Hello all,
Today is the first day of Ramadan in Morocco, and I am excited to experience this awesome cultural event! I have done a lot in the past 10 days, and I feel bittersweet knowing that I only have a few more days until I return home.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
مباركرمضان - Ramadan Mubarak!
Hello all,
Today is the first day of Ramadan in Morocco, and I am excited to experience this awesome cultural event! I have done a lot in the past 10 days, and I feel bittersweet knowing that I only have a few more days until I return home.
Monday, August 2, 2010
una montaña rusa emocional
This past week has been an emtional "montaña rusa", or roller coaster, of highs and lows. I have been impressed, frustrated, excited, nervous, exhausted, stressed, confused, satisfied, curious, touched, and encouraged, among other feelings, and have surely learned the importance of "thinking of the good times, not the bad."
After my time spent in the North Argentina indigenous lands among the poorest of the poor, I took the opportunity to travel to the famed Iguazu Falls. For those of you who know nothing about this natural beauty, here is the wikipedia site: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iguazu_Falls. Basically, it is Niagara Falls times 10. maybe times a hundred. After the long, stuffed bus-ride and seemingly never-ending trek to find a cheap hostel with free beds and internet access, I took yet another bus to the site of the falls, where I could already feel the mist of the forest. Having been in the dead of winter for the previous month, I welcomed the change of temperature and climate. Compared to the dry desert of Mendoza, this place felt as if it were raining all the time. After paying my discounted price (I told them I had an Argentine residence and showed them my study abroad card - and they accepted it!) I sauntered into the national park, ready for the ropes and chains and security that i so plainly remembered from my high school church trip to Niagara. But what I saw was minimal safety measures and wooden platforms with a simple railing so close to the falls that if you came up to the edge, you were sure to be drenched. Walking on the path to the central point, I noticed the thriving flora and fauna of this place, in particular the monkey-raccoon-anteaters that my friends and parents had warned me about. As a careless traveler, I let my bag with my orange and peanut-butter-banana sandwich hang at my side, and before I could react, one of these little creatures was tearing at the bag. With others watching and jumping, I snatched the bag off of the ground with the animal attached by the mouth, and shook it violently until the creature released its grip and sulked away. Normally I am not this intense with animals - in fact, I usually timidly sneak around and try my hardest not to disturb them - but this was my peanut-butter-banana sandwich he was after. And let me tell you, the two things that are not available in Argentina, which I bought in Chile and rationed out for the next 10 days, are peanut butter and sliced bread. He could take my orange, but he was NOT going to take my prized commodities.
Shortly after this episode, camera in hand, I approached the first bridge to take my first glance at the waterfalls that so many had raved about. I was excited to see the beauty and wonder of these falls, but as I approached the edge of a platform and looked out into the vast range of water falling all around, I became overwhelmed with awe. I had seen pictures, but they are nothing compared to the experience of experiencing these falls. The breeze through your hair mixed with the mist on your skin, the rich and heavy sound of water rushing past you with impenetrable force, the scent of forest plants and tropical air filling your nose make he Iguazu Falls so incredible. With more hiking, picture-taking, and occasional snacking, I ran into two girls I met at the hostel earlier that day. They were on their second day at the falls, and having just interned for 8 weeks in Paraguay were making a trip to see this hopeful New World Wonder. We discussed the different falls and took pictures of one another, and they introduced me to the "Devil's Throat," the most famous of all of the sections of Iguazu because of the sheer pressure and quantity of water, and full of myths and legends. Named the Devil's Throat because of the mist that eternally rises from the depths of the falls, it looks as if the Devil is breathing from the underworld. It is, to put it mildly, incredible. Times like these make me think of the awesome opportunity I've been given to experience these powerful sites.
A special opportunity I had during my time at Iguazu was to go on the "Full Moon" tour of the Falls. It is only offered during the full moon of each month, and I, by chance, had come during a full moon. Those of us who signed up for the tour crowded into a train and rode to the Devil's Throat, already knowing the power of it but excited to see it in a different light. The two most beautiful parts of this tour were the way the moon shown off of the water, turning it white, and the fact that there were less than 20 of us, engulfed in this uncrowded and strangely peaceful part of nature, stars shining alongside the full moon without a hint of light pollution. Though marketed as a romantic night to remember, instead of looking into the eyes of a lover, I was able to stare into the figurative eyes of God.
After my mini-vacation I took another long bus to Buenos Aires, to spend an action-packed week full of reading about, then exploring, then interviewing, a variety of governmental, non-profit, and religious officials who work in the fight against poverty. I will not bore you with the specific stories, but I invite you to read my final report once I have compiled all of the research into an essay overview. On the morning of Monday, July 26, with my two backpacks and plastic bags I stumbled into the Subte (Metro) station, and as I sleepily and awkwardly paid for my $1.10 ticket with a $10 bill, someone, through all of the hustle-and-bustle, managed to take my wallet out of my pocket. I did not find this out until much later, but after retracing my steps and learning about that part of town from friends, I realized that the Subway station is where someone made a pretty penny. I had recently taken some bills out of an ATM, and had my Driver's License and only plastic form of payment in my wallet, so needless to say it was (and still is) a bit of a hassle to cancel my card, order a new one (and Driver's License), and figure out what to do for the rest of the trip. Thankfully South America partners up with the US to deliver funds from home to a "Banco Frances," and I was relieved at how easy it seemed to just use a code and a passport to receive money wired to me from my parents. But little did I know, even after spending 5 months in the country, that Argentina's banks, like their government, are extremely inefficient and surprisingly bureaucratic, not to mention the fact that everything opens an hour later than they say yet closes promptly at 2pm. After multiple trips form one government agency to another to prove I was who I said I was, I gave up and decided to use the much easier yet far more expensive Western Union. What a pain.
Another setback was the fact that though I had multiple contacts with whom I had arranged meeting, 9 out of 10 times they were either late, forgot about it, or hadn't checked their e-mail in a while and assumed I would not want to talk to them anymore. And the worst was when someone asked for payment for a 15 minute interview. I know I was given a stipend for use this summer, but I don't remember budgeting for "interview fees." With all of this, there were some great interviews and interesting stories: a meeting with a friend who recently made a documentary on non-profits in Argentina, one with a company owner, and contacts with doctors, priests, and a goverenmental aide (though low on the food chain) about the 2010 Mercosur conference on the Millenium Development Goals (http://www.undp.org/mdg/) in Buenos Aires, the 2001 economic crisis, and the recent government corruption in falsifying statistics on poverty and unemployment.
It was great to see some UNC-ites as well in Buenos Aires. I spent much of my time with two Morehead-Cain scholars who are on their public service summer, and they introduced me to their host family and friends. I also spent time with a good friend Daniel Sircar, and reflected on time spent in this country. A Morehead alumna, Anna Marshall ('09), treated me to coffee at the famous Cafe Tortoni, where we delved into conversation and discussion ranging from the difficulties of vegetarianism to gender expression in Argentina, among others. As we kept telling stories and sharing points of view, the time for coffee was up, so we walked along the street and decided to go for pizza. After more discussion we resolved to end with some sweets (obviously with dulce de leche involved) filled with food in our bellies and thought in our minds.
Now in Montevideo, Uruguay, I await my flight to Sevilla, Spain, where I will try to decipher the difference between South American, North American, and European approached to tackling the ever-important issue of poverty. I am sure there will be plenty of adventures to tell soon!
Until next time,
Will
After my time spent in the North Argentina indigenous lands among the poorest of the poor, I took the opportunity to travel to the famed Iguazu Falls. For those of you who know nothing about this natural beauty, here is the wikipedia site: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iguazu_Falls. Basically, it is Niagara Falls times 10. maybe times a hundred. After the long, stuffed bus-ride and seemingly never-ending trek to find a cheap hostel with free beds and internet access, I took yet another bus to the site of the falls, where I could already feel the mist of the forest. Having been in the dead of winter for the previous month, I welcomed the change of temperature and climate. Compared to the dry desert of Mendoza, this place felt as if it were raining all the time. After paying my discounted price (I told them I had an Argentine residence and showed them my study abroad card - and they accepted it!) I sauntered into the national park, ready for the ropes and chains and security that i so plainly remembered from my high school church trip to Niagara. But what I saw was minimal safety measures and wooden platforms with a simple railing so close to the falls that if you came up to the edge, you were sure to be drenched. Walking on the path to the central point, I noticed the thriving flora and fauna of this place, in particular the monkey-raccoon-anteaters that my friends and parents had warned me about. As a careless traveler, I let my bag with my orange and peanut-butter-banana sandwich hang at my side, and before I could react, one of these little creatures was tearing at the bag. With others watching and jumping, I snatched the bag off of the ground with the animal attached by the mouth, and shook it violently until the creature released its grip and sulked away. Normally I am not this intense with animals - in fact, I usually timidly sneak around and try my hardest not to disturb them - but this was my peanut-butter-banana sandwich he was after. And let me tell you, the two things that are not available in Argentina, which I bought in Chile and rationed out for the next 10 days, are peanut butter and sliced bread. He could take my orange, but he was NOT going to take my prized commodities.
Shortly after this episode, camera in hand, I approached the first bridge to take my first glance at the waterfalls that so many had raved about. I was excited to see the beauty and wonder of these falls, but as I approached the edge of a platform and looked out into the vast range of water falling all around, I became overwhelmed with awe. I had seen pictures, but they are nothing compared to the experience of experiencing these falls. The breeze through your hair mixed with the mist on your skin, the rich and heavy sound of water rushing past you with impenetrable force, the scent of forest plants and tropical air filling your nose make he Iguazu Falls so incredible. With more hiking, picture-taking, and occasional snacking, I ran into two girls I met at the hostel earlier that day. They were on their second day at the falls, and having just interned for 8 weeks in Paraguay were making a trip to see this hopeful New World Wonder. We discussed the different falls and took pictures of one another, and they introduced me to the "Devil's Throat," the most famous of all of the sections of Iguazu because of the sheer pressure and quantity of water, and full of myths and legends. Named the Devil's Throat because of the mist that eternally rises from the depths of the falls, it looks as if the Devil is breathing from the underworld. It is, to put it mildly, incredible. Times like these make me think of the awesome opportunity I've been given to experience these powerful sites.
A special opportunity I had during my time at Iguazu was to go on the "Full Moon" tour of the Falls. It is only offered during the full moon of each month, and I, by chance, had come during a full moon. Those of us who signed up for the tour crowded into a train and rode to the Devil's Throat, already knowing the power of it but excited to see it in a different light. The two most beautiful parts of this tour were the way the moon shown off of the water, turning it white, and the fact that there were less than 20 of us, engulfed in this uncrowded and strangely peaceful part of nature, stars shining alongside the full moon without a hint of light pollution. Though marketed as a romantic night to remember, instead of looking into the eyes of a lover, I was able to stare into the figurative eyes of God.
After my mini-vacation I took another long bus to Buenos Aires, to spend an action-packed week full of reading about, then exploring, then interviewing, a variety of governmental, non-profit, and religious officials who work in the fight against poverty. I will not bore you with the specific stories, but I invite you to read my final report once I have compiled all of the research into an essay overview. On the morning of Monday, July 26, with my two backpacks and plastic bags I stumbled into the Subte (Metro) station, and as I sleepily and awkwardly paid for my $1.10 ticket with a $10 bill, someone, through all of the hustle-and-bustle, managed to take my wallet out of my pocket. I did not find this out until much later, but after retracing my steps and learning about that part of town from friends, I realized that the Subway station is where someone made a pretty penny. I had recently taken some bills out of an ATM, and had my Driver's License and only plastic form of payment in my wallet, so needless to say it was (and still is) a bit of a hassle to cancel my card, order a new one (and Driver's License), and figure out what to do for the rest of the trip. Thankfully South America partners up with the US to deliver funds from home to a "Banco Frances," and I was relieved at how easy it seemed to just use a code and a passport to receive money wired to me from my parents. But little did I know, even after spending 5 months in the country, that Argentina's banks, like their government, are extremely inefficient and surprisingly bureaucratic, not to mention the fact that everything opens an hour later than they say yet closes promptly at 2pm. After multiple trips form one government agency to another to prove I was who I said I was, I gave up and decided to use the much easier yet far more expensive Western Union. What a pain.
Another setback was the fact that though I had multiple contacts with whom I had arranged meeting, 9 out of 10 times they were either late, forgot about it, or hadn't checked their e-mail in a while and assumed I would not want to talk to them anymore. And the worst was when someone asked for payment for a 15 minute interview. I know I was given a stipend for use this summer, but I don't remember budgeting for "interview fees." With all of this, there were some great interviews and interesting stories: a meeting with a friend who recently made a documentary on non-profits in Argentina, one with a company owner, and contacts with doctors, priests, and a goverenmental aide (though low on the food chain) about the 2010 Mercosur conference on the Millenium Development Goals (http://www.undp.org/mdg/) in Buenos Aires, the 2001 economic crisis, and the recent government corruption in falsifying statistics on poverty and unemployment.
It was great to see some UNC-ites as well in Buenos Aires. I spent much of my time with two Morehead-Cain scholars who are on their public service summer, and they introduced me to their host family and friends. I also spent time with a good friend Daniel Sircar, and reflected on time spent in this country. A Morehead alumna, Anna Marshall ('09), treated me to coffee at the famous Cafe Tortoni, where we delved into conversation and discussion ranging from the difficulties of vegetarianism to gender expression in Argentina, among others. As we kept telling stories and sharing points of view, the time for coffee was up, so we walked along the street and decided to go for pizza. After more discussion we resolved to end with some sweets (obviously with dulce de leche involved) filled with food in our bellies and thought in our minds.
Now in Montevideo, Uruguay, I await my flight to Sevilla, Spain, where I will try to decipher the difference between South American, North American, and European approached to tackling the ever-important issue of poverty. I am sure there will be plenty of adventures to tell soon!
Until next time,
Will
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