Ask Jeeves - He Makes Dreams Come True

When I hearken back to my days as a mentor at TIP and my CELTA training in Costa Rica, I have fond memories of the ridiculous trainings and activities we used to do. As a 20-something college student, I have found myself doing icebreakers with toothpicks and fat smelly markers, building Macgyver-styled devices with rubberbands and legos, and reciting jazz chants to demonstrate past participle. Interestingly, one of the recurring themes that appeared at both jobs was the “criticism sandwich.” The general idea is that when you need to correct or critique a pupil, you should cushion the criticism between two pieces of positive encouragement to soften the blow. It would go something like this: You bring up a really good point. I’m not sure it’s the best solution, but you’re definitely not a complete idiot.

Get it? The ego-stroking is the “bread.” Cute, right? It sounds cheesy, and it makes the students sound like fragile, sensitive butterflies, but you wouldn’t believe what a successful strategy it was. I suppose it’s just human nature to like ending with a positive note, almost like closure. Well, if you scroll down a bit, you’ll see some traces of a Negative Nancy. Those of you know that know me well know that it’s just not my nature to be a complainer. In truth, it was always my intention to write a 3-part series about buses, and I was literally saving the best for last. I know I already shared my “good” experiences, but this trip wins in every category.

Interestingly, the best bus ride I took in Argentina happened to be the last one of our epic trip, and it mostly happened by chance. There were a combination of factors at play – both of us were slightly under the weather, we were emotionally drained, and we really didn’t have any desire to hang around the Buenos Aires station any longer than we needed to. Since it was such a high-volume station, there were frequent buses to Tucumán, and we just bought tickets for the next bus available. It just happened to be the first-class bus on Vosa, one of Argentina’s luxury fleets.

Wow.

I remember stepping onto the bus, and being greeted by a smiling young gentleman in a maroon vest, holding a small basket of mints and hard candies. He was going to be our attendant for the duration of the trip. I don’t remember his name, but I secretly wish it were Jeeves (linguistically implausible, because in Spanish, it would be pronounced ‘hee-vez’), because that’s exactly how bloody accommodating he was the entire ride.

Anyway, we headed to the upper floor as usual sank into our plush leather seats, and like little children testing out a new toy, immediately, we pulled the lever. We had no intention of actually sleeping right away, we just wanted to see what “class” our seats were. Fortunately, as an ejecutivo bus, all of the seats were the full cama, reclining back to an orgasmic 180º. Moreover, as the bus pulled out of the parking lot, we realized that there were less than 10 passengers on the top floor. It was going to be a good night. But it was still early, and we had several hours of reading, watching movies, and killing time before they would turn down the lights.

I shouldn’t have doubted, though, because Jeeves had everything covered. A couple hours into the ride, he pranced up the stairs, clapped his palms together, and gleefully asked if we were ready for dinner. Uhm… chyeah. I suppose on civilized buses, we must observe the formalities. He nodded as if to say, “Very good sir,” and proceeded to snap our tray tables into place -- the tray tables had attachments that connected them to the ends of the arm rests, creating tables, but essentially trapping us into our seats. As a young, 21st-century, independent-minded woman, I felt capable of matching Slot-A to Slot-B, but ever the gentleman, Jeeves insisted. It made me feel a like a baby in a high chair.

Selene hungry! Nom nom nom.

Absently, I wondered if they had any alternative arrangements for our more heavyset passengers, but then I remembered that we weren’t in the United States, and Kevin Smith wasn’t likely to take the Vosa bus.

Our meals were brought to us, vacuum wrapped per usual. Before we could get disappointed by the seemingly paltry portion-sizes of the servings (although they were still much better than any other bus fare we’d eaten), Jeeves was quick to inform us that these were just the appetizers. After we finished them, he brought out the hot meals which were wrapped in foil. There was something very satisfying about peeling off the foil and being bathed in steam. At that point, I was so impressed by the service, I would not have been surprised if they actually had a functioning oven somewhere in the galley. Next, it was time for drinks. In true unnecessarily cute fashion, Jeeves was carrying all the drink options in a wicker basket, as if picking your beverage from a basket was somehow classier. Aside from your typical fountain drink options (water, Sprite, Coca-cola, etc), there was also wine. Uh-oh, dilemma. The white wine would have complemented my entrée very well, but I wasn’t sure if the wine cost extra like it did on planes. Letting myself get wrapped up in the sheer spectacle of the entire experience thus far, I suddenly worried about making a social faux pas by asking whether it was free. To avoid any shameful acts of impropriety, I took the safe route and asked for a soda. In hindsight, I don’t know what I was so worried about… as if Jeeves would have cast me off the bus for asking a perfectly legitimate question. I’m not even sure who I was worried about judging, since there were only 4 other people within earshot – one of whom was my roommate, and the other 3 were French students who didn’t understand Spanish. At any rate, I allowed myself to indulge in my silly Austenite melodrama. That is, until I heard one of the French students behind me utter one of the few Spanish words she knew: vino. Chancing a glance behind me, I saw Jeeves graciously pour while the girl giggled. There was no exchange of currency, no transaction. Damn. It was like that episode of Family Guy where Peter ordered a salad, but really wanted soup. “But it was too late.”

With the timing of a competent waiter, after we all had an appropriate amount of time to nosh on our dinners but before we had cleared our plates, Jeeves came by again with his magical basket to ask if we wanted a refill. Gasp. Did I dare? Switch beverages? I decided to press my luck. I was feeling trepidation, but I played it cool and asked if I could try the wine. Jeeves didn’t even blink as he happily poured me a new cup. Success! Incidentally, the wine tasted awful, but I was in such a good mood at that point, I didn’t care. When he came around a second time, I had another one. It helped make the movie we were watching, a dubbed version of “Leap Year,” seem much more touching and well-acted than it probably was.

As to be expected, the pacing and service of this ride was impeccable. I’m fairly certain Jeeves came up and down the aisle a couple more times with more drink refills, but I had to turn him down. After dessert (yes, there was dessert!) they turned down the lights, but for those of us that weren’t quite ready for sleep, they had the courtesy to put on another movie, “I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry.” The cheap wine could not have been more appreciated.

As the credits started to roll, I think most of us were ready to turn in for the night. Ever the attentive innkeeper, Jeeves made one last run-through of the aisles. I assumed he was checking on the blanket/pillow situation, so imagine my surprise when he asked, “Whiskey?” Come again? The confusion must have shown on my face, because Jeeves resorted to pantomime, throwing his head back as if sipping a shot. Seriously? A nightcap? They were really offering me free liquor. I have never felt more bourgie. I felt like I needed a maroon smoking jacket to go with my brandy. It was one of those rags-to-riches “Pretty Woman” moments where I didn’t know what to do with the escargot pliers. It was like the first time I was in a European hotel and saw a bidet. I felt so undeservedly privileged, that I was too embarrassed to accept. That’s right. I was shamed into turning down free booze. I went to sleep feeling slightly dirty… both because I was being treated like a character in a Fitzgerald novel and also because it had probably been a couple days since our last shower. But the pillows were so damn comfortable and squishy that it didn’t make a difference.

The next morning, Jeeves was up bright and early. Like a doting mother, he wanted to make sure we were up and at ‘em, since we were nearing our destination. To gently wake us up, he offered us our hot, steaming caffeinated beverage of choice. It was just like a Folger’s commercial. Sure enough, shortly afterward, there was breakfast. Yes, it was an Argentinean breakfast, but the thought was nice. And either way, we were getting close to Tucumán. And as we rolled onto the platform, Jeeves gave us a little gift box full of treats to send us off.

It hung on our wall for the rest of the year.

Platos Estereo-Tipicos: Top 5 Argentine Regional dishes

It is difficult to quantify Argentine food since so much of it is regional, depending on availability and freshness of ingredients. For example, at home I usually stick to staples like beef and chicken, and occasionally pork on special occasions. While we have been traveling through Patagonia, however, there has been a greater abundance of fish and lamb. There are undeniable Italian, Arabic, and Spanish influences, as demonstrated by the prevalence of pastas, pizzas, and egg dishes. Nevertheless, the food endemic to the Andean Northwest is often credited with being the most "authentic" regional cuisine that can be attributed to the Prehispanic civilizations as demonstrated by their indigenous names. Indeed, some of our visiting Fulbrighters have confessed that they have never tried some of these dishes. As luck would have it, Tucumán is smack dab in the nexus of it all, giving me the false sense of authority to pick what I feel are the 5 stereotypical plates.

5. Minutas: This item really is really more of a category than an actual dish, but it was a convenient catch-all for several variations of what I consider the same thing. Literally "minute dishes," they essentially occupy the place between fast food and "special of the day" at a casual dining restaurant. Most restaurant keep minutas on the menu for people who want something cheap, hearty, and difficult to mess-up. A rough equivalent might be the "burgers and sandwiches" section you would find at a restaurant comparable to Chili´s or Friday´s. The three basic meat options are lomo (steak), milanesa (a thin, breaded piece of beef), and a suprema (a thin, breaded piece of chicken). These meats can be eaten in sandwich form (more common in street vendors) or as an entree. Naturally, the most common sides are fries or mashed potatoes. If you´re feeling fancy, these dishes can be embellished with a few different sauces: Portuguesa (chunky tomato), Napolitana (marinara and mozzarella), or Suiza (ironically a slab of cheese that is rarely Swiss). If you don´t care about your blood pressure, you can layer it with "the works": ham, cheese, and a fried egg, which is inexplicably named the Mexican.
   
4. Tamale: Although the geographically disinclined tend to make the sweeping generalization that all food south of the Rio Grande is "Mexican," I will concede that the tamale is pretty similar in appearance and taste. It involves cornmeal and shredded meat boiled in a dried corn husk called a chala. Although the dish is fairly common, it does not seem to possess the same ritual and significance as in Mexico.
   
   


3. Humita: On the outside it resembles a tamale, but the inside is a creamy filling of sweet corn (choclo), onion, and usually goat cheese. I get the impression that humitas are much more popular than tamales, especially as comfort food or special occasions. A particularly rich variation is humita en olla (in a pot). Rather than wrapping it in a corn husk to be eaten as a dish, the filling itself is spooned out as a hearty, stick-to-your-ribs soup.
   
   

   

   Humita unwrapped



2. Locro:I tasted locro for the first time in Cafayate, when we had just started our culinary adventures. The notes of my journal read "a big bowl of love." Pretty much, it is a meat stew with a choclo base. The meat can be any combination of beef, chicken, goat, sausage, tripe, and whatever other leftovers the chef decides to throw in the pot. Nationwide, it is traditional to eat it on special holidays such as 25 de Mayo or 9 de Julio, and each region, indeed each household, prepares locro a little differently. Most versions that I´ve tried have included vegetables such as canneloni beans or squash to give the stew a thicker, chunkier consistency. Any other identifying ingredients end there, and I would probably rather not know them, since I suspect that locro also functions as a convenient dumping ground for getting rid of leftover meat. All I know is that there is nothing better on a cold day than a steaming bowl of locro and a basket of bread.
   
   


1. Empanadas: They are the epitome of street food, but they are so prevalent that even high-end restaurants serve some version of them on their menu. Eat them as a snack, appetizer, or stuff yourself silly for a satisfying meal. Reheat them in the morning to nurse a hangover. Buy them to go, and eat them on your walk to work. You would be hard-pressed to find a more versatile food. In fact, it might rival pizza for the best food to accompany beer and a day of football (both versions).
   
   These dumplings come in a variety of shapes, sizes, doughs, and a wide array of fillings. The most popular savory flavors are meat, chicken, cheese, and ham and cheese. Some of the more original ones I have tried include caprese, lamb, tuna, and a weird fake cordon bleu. Within these subcategories, I have devised my own criteria for evaluating their qualities, which I will reveal when I finally complete the Ruta.
   
   

Rebuilding the Food Pyramid: A Primer to Argentine Food Groups

Part II: Food Groups in Perceived Order of Importance

1. Meat: Everything you have heard about the meat here is true. The grilled steaks that I have eaten here are some of the finest specimens of cow that I have ever had the pleasure of enjoying. That said, keep in mind that the filet is just one part of the cow. Given the price and quality of the cut, it is usually reserved for special occasions. On a day-to-day basis, the meat you would find in a typical sandwich, sausage, or milanesa (breaded meat, similar to chicken fried steak) will be a much lower quality of meat. Additionally, a traditional parilla (a restaurant that specializes in grilled meat) features food that some may feel less inclined to try. In Argentina, any part of the animal is literally, fair game. The offerings range from more benign offal such as kidneys, liver, and stomach to less common parts such as brain or even cow udders. To my knowledge, my most ambitious sampling has been blood sausage. That said, we’ve sort of adopted a “Don’t ask, don’t tell” policy regarding the mystery meat found in some regional dishes, so it is quite likely that I have unknowingly tried more exotic.
   
2. Bread: Argentina is a carb-tastic culture. Very recently, we watched in horror as two elderly ladies single-handedly destroyed a basket of at least half a dozen croissants. Lunch and dinner almost always comes with a basket of rolls or crusty bread. Between these larger meals, coffee and merienda comes with toast points, croissants, tortillas, cookies, and pastries. On top of that, there are additional sources of grains such as pizza, pasta, and rice, but good old white bread seems the most prevalent. Indeed, the lack of variety leaves something to be desired. It is not uncommon that a panaderia, literally a self-described “bread store” does not offer any type of grain or wheat bread, since there is such a low demand for them. Even at a supermarket, there is a high likelihood that the best offering would be the rough equivalent of artificially colored white bread.
   
3. Fruit: Although it is by no means a staple of the Argentine diet, the fruit offerings have always been fairly solid. Naturally the availability and quality depends on the season and region, but usually there are a fair number of offerings. Most of the juices are freshly squeezed, and licuado smoothies provide a lighter option at merienda.  Fruit salads are almost always items on the dessert menus, and they are more substantial than your elementary school lunch jello cup. Usually involve a combination of canned and freshly chopped fruit served in a glass of orange juice. Finally, a few of the desserts which featured cooked fruit (poached apples with cream, for example) have been delicious. The only thing to look out for is that the “juice” offered in some kiosks are really just sodas with the “sabor de” fruit.
   
4. Dairy: It seems that most Argentineans get their calcium intake from cheese, ice cream, and possibly the little splash of milk they use in café de leche. Yogurt is also fairly widespread – it is common to eat it with cereal. It’s probably some combination of lack of pasteurization and a disinterest with breakfast, but milk does not seem to be on anybody’s radar. Indeed, ordering a glass of milk with dessert would probably elicit the same reaction as ordering tap water. That said, if it weren’t for the lack of actual milk, dairy products would probably have edged out fruit for #3. They really, REALLY like cheese and ice cream.
   
5. Vegetables: On the whole, Argentine cuisine does not feature much in the way of veggie sides. Easily the “vegetable” of choice is potato. Restaurants take Bubba Blue-shrimp style pride in the “variety” of sides offered, including French fries, mashed potatoes, potatoes gratin, or roasted potatoes. One meal, I kid you not, featured an entrada of French fries followed by another serving of Spanish potatoes. That’s a lot of starch.
   
   On the off chance that there is an actual vegetable option, the most common method of preparation is boiled to the point of nursing home blandness. Similarly, a typical salad would be some iceberg lettuce and a sliced tomato. If you are lucky, they may throw in a shredded carrot or boiled egg. Although some upscale restaurants offer salad mixtos that are a little more interesting, they are few and far between. On the whole, somebody needs to teach these guys to do a proper sauté. Seriously, a little olive oil, garlic, and salt can do wonders. Which brings me to my final point.

I can´t rightly categorize it as a food group, but I feel that the seasoning and heat level (or in this case the lack thereof) is worth mentioning. Many people are surprised to discover that Argentinean food tends to be horribly underseasoned for American tastes. It lacks the bold, spicy flavors that we attribute to other Latin cuisines, such as Mexican, Caribbean, or even Brazilian (but shhh... don´t tell anybody I said that). I have been told that Argentineans take such pride in the quality of their meat, that they believe it should be enjoyed in its pure unadulterated form. Admittedly, the meat is quite tasty on its own. It´s disappointing and somewhat frustrating, however, that this mentality has extended to all other food groups. For example, the typical accoutrements to a salad are salt, oil, and vinegar. No dressing, no vinaigrettes, no lemon juice. Moreover, no pepper. I guess I took it for granted, since it´s a given that salt and pepper is a natural pair, like black/white, ebony/ivory, chocolate/vanilla and Brangelina.  But that has not been our experience. In fact, the use of pepper is relegated to the special occasions in which a “picante” option is offered, and usually the actual level of spice is laughable by American standards.

I generally like a little bit of kick to my food, but I´ve never been able to handle red-alarm levels of spice in cuisines such as Thai, Indian, or even Tex-Mex. I am very much a yellow curry, salsa verde, pico de gallo type of girl. That said, I have found myself sneaking dried chilis in every dish I cook, just because it is the only spice with any semblance of heat available. In visiting fellow Fulbrighter’s pantries, the prevalence of hot sauce and dried aji powder leads me to believe that I am not alone. For this reason, when Selene recently had the opportunity to return to the United States, I gave her an extensive grocery list of spices to bring back to Tucumán. On the whole, I adore Argentinean cuisine, but I would recommend that any visiting Americans come well equipped with a couple packets of black pepper. You´ll have no idea how much you´ll miss it.

I Have Measured Out My Life with Locro Spoons: A Primer to Argentine Mealtimes

Between living in Tucuman, one of Argentina’s largest, most historically significant cities and having a space as awesome as the Office, we get a lot of visitors. It was a very telling moment when we were circling the plaza, and a visitor inquired about an important looking building on the Paseo de Independencia. Selene replied, “We’re awful tour guides, but we can show you the best empanada places.”

Since our arrival in Argentina, our daily lives have been scheduled, categorized, and defined by the food. When we eat our oatmeal in the morning, we talk about where we’re going for lunch. When we’re at lunch, we discuss what we need to buy for dinner. When we are traveling, we are more interested in restaurants than museums, churches, or national parks. What started as a cheeky experiment to try some empanadas has evolved into an integral part of our cultural experience, so much so that I have unofficially assumed the ad hoc position of resident Fulbright Food Critic. Those who know me from home, especially the poor souls who had to share a house with me and endure marathons of “Top Chef,” “Iron Chef,” and “Next Food Network Star,” know that it is a role I take with great honor and pleasure (and relish…haha). As such, I have taken it upon myself to offer this comprehensive, three-part introduction to the wonderful world of Argentine cuisine.

Part I: Mealtimes

• Desayuno (Breakfast) – Argentineans are not big on breakfast. In fact, one of our biggest struggles has been finding a proper substitute for cereal, since the boxes they sell are so small and expensive, we were going through one every three days. Their version of breakfast is not particularly healthy or satisfying – a coffee with tortillas (not the ones we are accustomed to, they are more like wafers or crackers loaded with butter) or sticky croissants. If you are at a fancy establishment, you may be lucky enough to find a shotglass of orange juice. Many of our students are confused and a little disgusted by the idea of eating protein or anything more substantial than pastries in the morning. It really makes you wonder whether this notion of breakfast being the most important meal of the day (an assumption that I have taken for granted since childhood) is really just a big campaign by the FDA to sell more milk.
• Almuerzo (Lunch) – As with most Latin cultures, lunch is the meal of the day. The need for a five hour siesta in the afternoons is directly tied to the sheer, mind-boggling quantity of food consumed at this time. Many restaurants offer a menú del dia, a sort of combo-value meal which offers a set menu of courses for one flat rate. A typical menú includes bread, a side dish (usually potatoes, rice, or simple salad), a huge entrée, and possibly a dessert or coffee. Occasionally, a drink- usually Coke or some other carbonated beverage laced in corn syrup- may also be included in the price. On a sidenote, per capita, Argentineans must consume a ridiculous volume of soda -- it is not unusual for one person to clear an entire liter of Coke on his own. Ordering water is far more uncommon, and tap water is downright scandalous. Indeed, we have earned more than a few funny looks: “Agua... seguro?” ("Water...are you sure?") I have yet to determine whether the waiter is looking at us with confusion, surprise, pity, or some mix of the three.
• Merienda(Tea time?):– There isn’t an easy direct translation for merienda, since it’s not something common in American culture. In England it might be considered afternoon tea, but here it refers more to a coffee break and afternoon snack. Tea is an option, but it usually consists of the generic teabags that we can buy at most corner stores. The point is, after siesta your tummy may start rumbling again. Most restaurants do not open for dinner until at least 9 or 9:30 PM, so it is common to take a formal snack break between lunch and dinner. To my understanding, merienda is quite similar to breakfast (sometimes menus list their promotions as “desayuno/merienda” that functions for both meals), except there are a few more options. In addition to croissants and crackers, there are also a mind-numbing assortment of facturas, sticky sugary pastries that are filled with cream or dulce de leche. Another common snack is a tostado, a simple ham and cheese sandwich on white bread, pressed between what appears to be a waffle iron.
  
• Cena (Dinner)– If I am being completely honest, my knowledge of Argentine dinner is woefully limited because I rarely last long enough to enjoy it. As mentioned above, most restaurants don’t serve dinner until much later than we are used to, and it is not uncommon for people to dine well after midnight. When you tell an Argentinean what time most Americans eat dinner, it is also not uncommon for them to laugh uproariously in disbelief. The only times we usually go out for dinner is when we have company or are invited by our students, and the little exposure I do have did not strike me as particularly noteworthy. Dinner menus tend to rely on pretty common standbys: pasta, sandwiches, and pizza, and they rarely include side dishes. The only exception would be asado, which I will more fully describe in the next post.

I should mention that most Argentineans can handle the late dinners, because they usually stay out much later as well. On a weekend it’s no problem to munch leisurely into the wee hours of the morning, but during the work week when I am waking up around 8 AM to go to the gym, I would rather not have 3 pounds of red meat sitting like a lead weight in my stomach. As such, Selene and I have come up with what we feel is a fair cross-cultural compromise in regards to our eating schedule. On a typical day, we will scour the city for a new, undiscovered local restaurant and split the menú del dia. It is the best time to try more new, regional dishes, since the offerings change from day-to-day. It is also the more economical option, since there are an assortment of accompaniments included in the price. In the evening, I will prepare a dinner for two (usually front loaded with vitamin-rich vegetables) that we will eat at what I consider a respectable dinner hour. After gorging ourselves with over 500 empanadas over the course of the last few months, I like to think we deserve to maintain this little habit from home.

Eso es lo que dijo ella: Office Rules

The first rule of the Office is that there is no office. Not really, seeing as how I just mentioned it in my last entry. But before Selene and I made the decision to move-in together, we definitely set some initial ground rules to live by. For no other reason than our personal amusement, we officially referred to them as “pacts.” Although melodramatic nomenclature may be unnecessary, I do adhere to the belief that having a frank discussion about idiosyncrasies and personal habits is necessary for any people to live together. In this particular situation, it was especially crucial since we would not just be sharing an apartment, but an actual bedroom. It had been years since I’ve had a roommate in the literal sense of the word, and I’d grown accustomed to privacy, as demonstrated by the “No-pants Rule” implemented in Austin. While I’m pretty sure that the success of our current living situation has more to do with compatible personalities than anything else, I thought sharing some of these random, arbitrary ground rules might shed some light onto the random quirkiness that goes on in the Office.

1. Spanish – The primary reason that had any doubts about living together had to do with the fact that we both wanted to improve our Spanish and learn more about the Argentinean culture. After all, sequestering the two sole Norteamericanas in Tucumán doesn’t sound like a particularly immersive cultural experience. As such, we made a strict resolution to speak Spanish for an allotted time every day. Usually, we started in the morning when we were most awake and out running errands. The minimum was 4 hours a day. This requirement has slackened since we’ve started work, partly because we see each other less, but mostly because we’ve started hanging out with students and locals. A typical weekend night involves us sitting at a table full of beer bottles and chatting with Tucumanos into the wee hours of the mornings. That counts.
2. La Ruta de Empanada– When we all arrived in Buenos Aires for orientation, each becario received a welcome packet from their respective province with an assortment of maps and brochures. Most included information on the arts and culture of the various touristy activities. Tucumán provided us with a couple maps (which we’ve used to great effect) and this pamphlet called “La Ruta de Empanadas,” which is this list of the top 25 empanada eateries in the city. Since my proposed Fulbright side project was to learn as much as I could about Argentine cuisine, this endeavor made perfect sense. Eager to take on a new, silly project, we decided to follow this Ruta, which has been no easy task since it is laid out in an inexplicably spiral pattern which has had us running around the town. We’ve hit our share of setbacks, but the end is near, and a detailed review of the experience is to come. I’ve even finally managed to refer to the project as “academic in nature” with a straight face.
3. Health – One commonality that Selene and I immediately noticed was our desire to stay fit and healthy during our time here. In reference to the item above, this goal was particularly pointed since a diet consisting of empanadas is not particularly conducive to leading a healthy lifestyle. In many ways, the Argentine diet and lifestyle is in direct opposition to everything I consider conventional wisdom regarding healthy and good habits, let alone everything I’ve been taught as a fitness instructor. From the sad little nutrient-less breakfasts to the midnight pizza dinners, it was like being a slovenly college student all over again. Case in point, during the first week I was Couchsurfing with Mariana, I’m not sure I ate any vegetables. Just big slabs of meat with a carb or starchy side – I’ve never craved a tomato more than I did that week. Naturally, I was a gracious guest that cleaned my plate (eventually), but I was very much looking forward to having a kitchen where I could have some control over the portion sizes and quality of ingredients. Having a roommate who was on board definitely made it easy to accommodate. Also, having a gym buddy is effective when you don’t feel like getting out of bed at 8 AM.
4. Cell phone – And now we come to the biggest, baddest pact of all. For reasons unknown even to myself, I thought it would be a fun challenge to see how long I could last in Argentina without a cell phone. In the past, whenever I have lived or traveled abroad, I was never gone for enough time to warrant purchasing a travel phone or SIM card. With technological advances such as Skype, wide internet access, and Facebook, there were always different ways to get around it. Surely there are occasions where a phone call would make things more convenient, but at the same time, the work-arounds listed above can be hardly described as inconvenient. On top of that, I have always wanted to attempt a dramatic social experiment such as living out of a backpack, living a 100% sustainable lifestyle, 1 paragraph e-mails, etc. In the States I never used my phone that much anyway, so it seemed like a challenge I would have the easiest time transitioning to. Having a “fresh start” in a new country (no prior contracts, no local contacts, etc) seemed like the perfect opportunity to try it out. Luckily I have a roommate who is game for just about any of my random vagaries, so I’ve got a companion who has embarked on this fool’s mission with me.
   
   At this point, it’s been 2 months and counting, and we’re still going strong. More than anything, the external reaction to this pact has been more fascinating than its actual impact (or lack thereof) on our daily lives. For example, Argentineans are always shocked (“Imposible!”), because they are a culture that relies heavily on texting and phone calls. The reaction from home, however, has been surprisingly encouraging. I guess I never noticed it while I had a phone, but being separated from one has given me a fresh perspective. There was a surreal moment last week where I’d be sitting at a table of four. At one point, three of my friends were having three separate silent text message conversations with absolutely no interaction with the present company. Obviously, being without a phone, I was the odd one out. But as an objective observer, I’m not sure that I really want membership to this particular club.

At any rate, I’ll be sure to keep you guys posted on the status of the cell phones, and every other pact. In the meantime, we can finally share the beauty that’s the Office. The visitors that come always have a good time (That’s what she said!).

D

Defenders of our Apartment

Rocking the burnt orange on my side of the room

Panoramic view of the living/sleeping/work area