The End: Part II (Last Will and Testament)

[Side note: I wrote most of this post on my last colectivo ride to my Avant-Garde internship. I've been revising and adding to it ever since in order to explain to the most precise degree my experience in Buenos Aires.]

Buenos Aires became real to me. It lasted beyond an escape, a vacation, a visit. I stayed and I lived there.

I immersed myself in my internship, my classes, the language, ultimate, a Latin-European culture. I got lost in translation, I was lonely, I grew independent. I became vulnerable to it all. I shed the shell of temporary times to more permanent perils. I didn't always have excuses or justifications. I didn't live a glamorous life. I didn't live everyday like it was my last because each felt like I was a step toward a seemingly infinite stay. I missed home, I ached, shed tears, spent numerous hours on Skype... I sometimes lived in mediocrity, flew down depression and back up to ecstasy in the matter of a day. I strolled down streets beaming and shook my groove thang on boliche dance floors. I found pure independence blissful at times, I hosted my loved ones, I found a family in Sapukay, Avant-Garde, and my program.

I didn't just thrive and exclude the bad, I experienced it all- the underestimated, emotional pendulum that is studying abroad. I lived a full life in Buenos Aires.

I lived a life in four months (stick with me as I try to explain study abroad via yet another metaphor):
Everything was new, I saw it for the first time. I was young and curious, easily fascinated and intrigued.
I went out often to play, make friends. I learned lessons the hard way, I fended for myself. 
I had a mid-trip crisis full of prolific questions and panic, a sense of helplessness, a loss of direction. 
I became content, aware, and experienced. I balanced work and play, I developed relationships, I gained patience. 
I hammered out my work and retired to one last city escape, Mendoza. 

Then I made this will -of things I refuse to let go, to disappear into the future- to impart on all of you: Those who know me better than I know myself, those who've never met me, my peers, my best friends, my family, those who plan to study in or visit Buenos Aires, those who already live there and are interested in what a gringa thinks. I've laid out my thoughts in this post and blog, the only real possessions I can claim. Take or dismiss what you will without the hassles of an attorney to distribute them accordingly.

I'm signing my name, I've flown back home.

Until next time,

-Anna

The End: Part I (The Great Melt)

Waiting at the colectivo stop with Ian.

I felt my composition -the seemingly stable ice structure- melt while my colectivo drove away from Ian and Diana, my fellow Sapukeños. As I've described earlier, I was numbed from feeling emotion by a mixture of excitement to come home and the surreal nature of leaving a place that grew on me with a chance of never returning.

Hugging it out with Diana and Sabi.

But then I realized why it had been mistakenly easy to pack my bags in anticipation of going home... I didn't realize my experience lied in the people that I shared my time with: my program companions, Carolina, my Avant-Garde bosses, the BA ultimate community in general, and most especially Sapukay.

I could easily wish farewell to my program because I could comfortably say a hello again in Columbia if I made the effort. The following, however, due to the unpredictable nature of life, I can't be so sure. These were the people who welcomed me so quickly, who adopted me and all my 'gringo-ness,' who showed me passion for playing and more importantly bonding as a team, who inspired me with their ambition, who placed trust in a foreign redhead.

My Avant-Garde bosses: Laura and Matías

My ultimate team full of characters, the one and only: Sapukay.

I would like all of them to know just how much I appreciate all their warm welcomings, acceptance, and patience. I'm so grateful for all intentional and subconscious actions made to help my experience develop in the way it did.

I felt the heated ice overwhelming me on that bus, drowning my mind with waves of thoughts that slowly melted down my cheeks.

I lived my trip without regrets, yet it was still difficult to accept this inevitable part to a trip, another benchmark in my life- saying hello and then goodbye, investing and letting go, living fully and moving on eventually.

I realized this great melt meant I was human. I did it. I lived abroad, I had grown attachment despite my having convinced myself I could return to the U.S. at whatever time I chose. I made the trip significant, meaningful, I did something right.

My Muse, Mendoza

Hola vacaciones!

Maddie and I enjoying some mate.

Kylie, Max and I had already said goodbye to work and the structure of our program before hopping on a bus to the land of wine, the Andes and beauty.... and best of all, my dear friend Maddie! Yep, you may remember her initiation to Argentina via a visit to BA way back when in 'Getting Her to First Base.'  It only seemed appropriate that we exchange visits at the conclusion of my trip to balance things out.

Unfortunately Maddie had homework and classes to attend (or dismiss, shhhh) on some days, and that's exactly where the equipo came in! We three took some adventures that would make those Musketeers proud.

We began with a day trip to Maipu to rent bikes, ride through the 'vineyards,' and taste wines. We embarked on our journey with the help of the Maipu Bikes company who supplied us with mountain bikes complete with baskets, a bottle of water and a (pretty unnecessary) glass of wine at the conclusion of our day.

The romantic and peaceful expectations we had of the ride quickly left us as we biked down the congested streets, scared sober the entire way... well, almost. We could not fathom how so many people who recommended this trip to us could gloss over this major detail. But alas, we sucked it up like Musketeers do and hit up three wineries to taste some of the best Malbecs my taste buds have been exposed to.

Stationed before the Andes, pre-tasting.

We made it home safely aside from one wine bottle's casualty on the curbside. We slept well to wake up to our next adventure: horseback riding in a valley overlooking the Andes.

Maddie, Max and Kylie clomping ahead.

Maddie struck gold by finding Cordón del Plata, a fabulous activities agency. It took us out a good hour and a half to an isolated ranch where we hopped on some horses (not so gracefully), spent hours viewing the scenery and soaking up the sun, and then gorging on a parilla. It was the epitome of a perfect day. We were in great company with a fine leader who showed us the life of a desert gaucho (slightly different than the gaucho experience I had before. Potatoes seem to play a much larger role for those in Mendoza).

Inventing my own way to seal carne empanadas.

We deemed it an early night and spent the next day lounging and resting our more-than-busted butt bones. Kylie, Max and I stressfully planned a relaxing trip for our last day (just like the planning contradiction I learned from my time in 'Córdoba'). We spend the rest of the day relaxing in a beautious park where Maddie and her friend joined us to sip up some maté. We proceeded to her, um well, her special friend's house to learn the art of making empanadas.

Finally we relished the last day since we saved the best for then: A trip to thermal pools smack dab in the Andes. We were dropped off in a deserted area shaded by the massive mountains surrounding us. We walked 20 minutes down train tracks (not up a stairway) to eventually find heaven. It was a dream of boiling water, gorgeous weather, feeling warmth, eating well and unwinding after four long months. Oh, and I can't forget caking ourselves with mud, to help our pores of course. 

We may have looked like lava monsters, but boy did it feel good. I began to loosen the screws of my attachment to studying abroad sitting there in the bubbling water. However, I still felt numb so there was only so much reflection I could do.

I'm saving that for the as-of-now liberal summer I have. Although the shock may sneak up on me in the airport, on the plane, on my second plane... who knows. There's plenty an opportunity to realize the great and terrifying last four months I spent here in Argentina. 

The Beginning of the End: Chau to our Mizzou Program

I realize the order of this series does not exactly line up with the priorities I listed in my 'Final' post. My finals are a little backwards now that Kylie, Max and I decided to extend our sur-reality another week in Mendoza. We paid an initial goodbye to our apartments and a more lengthy one to the rest of the program. 

[Context: Kylie and I will do the rest when we return to BA for two more days before our departure back to the U.S. Max will be flying home via Chile.]

Bianca and I got hooked up with an Ivory white apartment overlooking a park on Avenida del Libertador- a major street in BA (meaning at least twelve lanes wide) fortunately stocked with a plethora of bus stops.

The apartment provided a more than great refuge after late nights (synonymous with early mornings), long days of internship work and classes, and unpredictable weather. The doormen were plenty friendly too and helped me practice my Spanish small-talk. I learned polite phrases and tried my hardest to be clever with a limited vocabulary... usually by adding a little bit of sign language in the mix.

But a place is a place, and I wouldn't exactly call my apartment home. It was my study abroad home, sure. But I didn't actually have a family structure that tied me specifically there.

Instead, the program provided my sisters and brother (in addition to my extended family of 'Sapukeños,' of course). We began the program as ducklings, following Carolina around like blind youngin's. Then eventually we grew into it together.

[Preview: I'll touch more on this process of study abroad development during my final post here. Naturally, I'm saving the best for last. How else would I retain the attention of all my dedicated followers? I kid, I kid.]

The last supper with Carolina.

As I anticipated, I didn't cry. I didn't feel final when I hugged Carolina's small frame goodbye. I didn't feel sentimental as I wished a safe travels to Amy, Alyssa and Bianca. I felt like it was just another long weekend of traveling when I packed up all my possessions and left half at Carolina's office. I'm numbed mentally and physically. The time will come when the floodgates will open, but once again- Kylie, Max and I will be staying in Neverland for seven more days before returning to the reality of large, international airports and a full, final goodbye.

The actual beginning at Parque Rosedal.

The Beginning of the End: So Long to Work

My final words on my internship experience in Buenos Aires:

Reenacting my voice-over of M
at the Samsung event.

I thoroughly enjoyed both my internships this semester. I got to develop the exact skills I stated as preference prior to the trip and more. In addition to delving into graphic design, I was fortunate enough to see the process of launching a Website during my time at Artemisa Noticias and the organization of two entire marketing campaigns while at Avant-Garde.

Sitting pretty at the J&J 'Lideres'
event.

I learned so much without attending an overly populated lecture, sitting patiently as a professor demonstrated Adobe programs on a projector, or cracking open a dull textbook. Rather, I got to witness and contribute to all the hard work that went into two campaigns' events of which I also got to attend. I got to meet professional graphic designers, and learned about the blessing and curses of freelance. I collaborated with marketing geniuses (in my opinion) in a new culture under Spanish instruction. I researched like mad and learned an intriguing ideology that realizes a relationship between women and nature that I was more than excited to promote.

I was given two fruitful opportunities and squeezed as much juice from them as I could.

At Avant-Garde with my 'jefes,' Laura and Matías

My portside office (and classroom) for Artemisa Noticias

The Devil in the Jungle

I've just returned from Iguazu, one of the most highly ranked trips during my four-month binge here. I've never seen anything so foreign, so exotic, so mesmerizing before. I'd never been in the jungle, surrounded by diverse greenery, towering trunks and growling water. I look back at the photos I just uploaded and still can't fathom the beauty.

I stuck Iguazu at the top of my 'to-visit' list when I was in research mode before my trip. The picture in the Lonely Planet was like a little portal into my future because I knew I would end up there somehow. And there I visited.

But it wasn't just a visit, it was an adventure. I legitimately felt like Dora as I suited up in cargo shorts, my hiking shoes and long wool socks each day. All I needed was a bowl cut and a talking purple backpack.

We may not have hiked far from the paved path, but it's crazy the experience you gain with incredible natural scenery and activities among it. And it's probably better I didn't get too ambitious, seeing as something in that jungle already didn't get along with my skin... it was a quick turn from a Nick cartoon to an episode of Lost as an irritation slowly grew on my skin throughout the trip. The source looked like bites, but spread like a rash.

I couldn't let it stop me though as we experienced the best of it all! The most daunting, the most astounding, the most inexplicably beautiful, yet sinister natural wonder: The Devil's Throat (dun, dun, duuuuuuuuuuuun).

We saved it for the last day. I don't know how, but we dealt with the anticipation, and held out with other activities and the views of San Martín's falls. Finally the day came with dark grey clouds that slowly ate up the sky. It followed us as we walked to the Throat and blew us around. I swear it was as if the Devil were reincarnated right before my eyes and was trying to push me into its throat to swallow me, red headband and all. The wind kept blowing and soon enough, rain fell. We resisted the Devil's attempts to enter his throat or exit his hell (the National Park), instead just standing and staring down the infinitely misting mass of water.

It was the extremely large number of tourists that eventually drove us out. We maneuvered our way through the crowd of ponchos, to the train station, and finally on a bus back to town. We survived.

As for my skin? Well, that may be a different story as I use excessive amounts of itch-relief creme and will myself from touching the inflamed areas. Fortunately it doesn't come close to tainting the unforgettable experiences I had with the Jungle and the Devil this past weekend... all in time for Pascua! Happy Easter!

To Be Continued...

Sorry for the lack of posts once again. I'm in a rush to pack and get ready for my trip to Iguazu this long weekend, splishing and splashing my way North. I pinkey-swear (meaning a more serious dedication than promise or swear) to update you folk when I get back.

Hasta luego.... bébe.