On Sunday we went to a bar-restaurant to watch the world cup. Since Argentina was playing, the place was packed. I think Dr. Anderson wanted us to see first hand how seriously the Argentine’s take the sport of Soccer.
There was a couple in the front of the room smooching like it was their last time seeing one another. They stayed in each other’s arms for the entire game.
I think this painting is by American artist, Norman Rockwell. I did not see his name anywhere on the frame but it looks like a Norman Rockwell painting. If it’s not, there is a good impersonator in Argentina.
When you are traveling, you begin to see how much the outside world is influenced by America.
There was a big picture of Charlie Chaplin on the restaurant wall in Buenos Aires.
Sunday, June 15, I was sitting in a bar restaurant in Buenos Aires, Argentina, watching the world cup. Argentina was playing Bosnia and Herzegovina. Okay, really, I was watching the people there watch the world cup. I had to keep reminding myself that it was Sunday because I am used to sitting still in church on Sundays, not sitting anxiously waiting for my country to score a point.
As you can see in the picture, it was packed in there and the streets were quite too. Everyone was inside somewhere, watching the game. Every time Argentina scored a point, everyone started to shout and holler. I just set and smiled. Only Jesus gets that type of reaction from me.
Notice the walls, how every where there is a picture of some sort.
In most of the restaurants in Buenos Aires, Argentina, they had a lot of old pictures and a sort of vintage feel. I saw this style in every restaurant we walked into.
Even though it’s cold outside, I gave in and ordered Vanilla ice cream mixed with nuts. It was so good.
Journal Entry
15 June 2014 Sunday
After that shop we ran out of time and went to the pizza shop where we all planned to meet. Since we were the first ones, we waited outside. It’s there we came across a cult of some sort, an American man from Utah, his wife and followers stopped us. They acted like they were Christians but their testimonies did not sound convincing. They did not testify to the water baptism nor the Holy Ghost and kept saying everyone lived in the same apartment. When they gave us a tract, it was over 30 people in the picture! Children included. It seemed weird. Juan pulled me aside and told me they were a cult and we quickly got away. It seemed also weird that they did not have a church even though they were trying to witness- of what? I don’t know.
After everyone came, we walked quickly to a bar-restaurant to watch the World Cup. By this time I was missing church. It felt weird being anywhere else and not in service. During the game, I sat beside Dr. Anderson who was great company. We spoke about the readings for the class. Her article in particular. It was something to actually read an article and have the author sitting right next to you willing to talk to you about their work! This was the second thing I appreciated that day (the first being able to make a video of the indigenous woman explain the meaning of her flag and Lisset willing translating everything).
I don’t remember all we spoke about Dr. Anderson did explain the last line of the article to me: “This treatment unfortunately sends the message that we are not really welcome in the country; every day that remind us in a million little ways.” I asked her why she used the word little as I thought little would damper the plight that the black argentines are suffering with. However she told me that little refers to the micro-violence’s of putting people in their ‘place’ and reminding them constantly of the color of their skin. Little refers to all the small events that break us down. I say us, because I can relate to their situation…or at least I think I can.
Dr. Anderson also explained to me, the word Enculturation. She told me that the term assimilation is now outdated, I guess because people are often mixing with one another anyway and the term enculturation means to be forced to let go of what you are (your culture) and forced to pick up a new one. In this case, you don’t really have a choice.
I ordered some good ice cream! I shared it with Juan who I notice loves to eat.
Argentina won against…well, I don’t know who they were playing against but they did win. The place went crazy and I think the most noise came from my table…a table full of Americans.
We ate dinner at another restaurant close to home…I think.
The empanadas were simply delicious! They were freshly baked and so unlike the ones I buy on the streets in the Bronx or even at the Spanish restaurants!
Look how golden they look. Just writing about them makes me want another one.
They served us every part of the cow…nothing wasted. It was all good!
Taken in Desninel
I am standing in the middle of the street during the San Telmo Feria. It was amazing. I think this is one of my favorite spots in Argentina. I enjoyed cruising through the streets and simply buying.
I think this is where we got great food. There was a restaurant called Desninel that we actually we went to twice because the food was really good.
Journal Entry:
15 June 2014 Sunday
After the Plaza Francia fair, we ventured to another fair called the San Telmo Fair. There, we first went to a restaurant that was popular for its meat of many kinds…particularly all the parts of the cow. I ate a little bit. I was breaking my Sunday fast and did not really want all the beef. I really wanted an apple or some vegetables but I learned that day that Argentina is not about full three course meals, it’s all about meat!
Later when we all picked a meeting spot, we split up again. This time I was with Juan and Valerie. I was happy to have company but even happier when Juan and I split from Valerie. She was “Jewing” the people down and I felt it was a waste of time and energy. Besides, if I would have stayed with her I wouldn’t have came across Mon, from the hat shop, who sold me a black, wool church hat. We promised to become friends and she gave me her information.
After that shop we ran out of time and went to the pizza shop where we all planned to meet. Since we were the first ones, we waited outside. It’s there we came across a cult of some sort, an American man from Utah, his wife and followers stopped us. They acted like they were Christians but their testimonies did not sound convincing. They did not testify to the water baptism nor the Holy Ghost and kept saying everyone lived in the same apartment. When they gave us a tract, it was over 30 people in the picture! Children included. It seemed weird. Juan pulled me aside and told me they were a cult and we quickly got away. It seemed also weird that they did not have a church even though they were trying to witness- of what? I don’t know.
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