Showing posts with label argentina. Show all posts
Showing posts with label argentina. Show all posts

26 May 2007

Ciao Argentina, You Will Be Missed…



Upon leaving I wanted to share some final lessons learned:

No matter how much you enjoy something, never verbalize it. For example, I told Patricia I really liked Dulche de Leche. She brought out the tub from the fridge with every meal, insisting I eat some. Then she bought me Dulche de Leche candy to take with me.

Argentinians drink TONS of carbonated beverages and eat more chocolate and sweets than any other culture I have EVER seen. Coke and chocolate. Coke and chocolate. Coke and chocolate.

Take your watch off before you arrive. Time is of the essence, and attempting to push that is a futile task and in the end, a big mistake. Just go with the flow. That in-between flex time ended up offering some of my most memorable moments. To note, that flex time increases as you travel further north. When we were in Humahuaca, which is just miles from the Bolivian border, the school had a room for students to hang out in when teachers “just don’t show up” or are “really late.” The culture show started two hours later than we had expected. If you know me, you can imagine how many times I asked if something was wrong.

Somehow, the Argentineans managed to cram another hour into the day! See below…



It’s not that they don’t have hot water anywhere, it’s just that it comes out of the right tap, not the left. Yeah, not my proudest moment(s).

Sometimes a 16-year-old might be driving you around in a large van with broken windshield blasting Beyonce while winding up the side of a mountain. Just breathe.


Finally, They LOVE “High School Musical.” I mean, obsessed. 100,000 people bought tickets to see them perform in Buenos Aires. I even saw them on MTV in Humahuaca. The one girl said “the best part of being famous is that a lot of people care what you have to say.” Um, I don’t. I care what the girls who started their own recycling center have to say though. How about we put them on TV, in magazines and on stage? But maybe that’s just me…

22 May 2007

Bus Journal – San Salvador de Jujuy to Buenos Aires


5:50PM – I’ve decided to bring back the style I used on the train from Beijing to Lhasa. I just realized that ride was 48 hours on a train. This is 22 hours on a bus. Almost half as long, only I don’t have my own compartment. Just me, this leather recliner that’s been nailed to the floor and “Monster in Law” in Spanish on the TV. Joy. Rapture. Oh, and I can’t forget my riding buddy. I’ve nicknamed him Captain, his wife Tennille. He spent the first 40 minutes standing in the aisle talking to me about I don’t know what. I kept saying “No Abla Espanol” but he kept talking. Then Marina, my travel buddy and Youth Venture (Avancemos) staff explained – in Spanish – that I don’t speak Spanish. He doesn’t seem to care. In fact, he’s talking to me right now. Now he’s watching me type pointing at the screen saying something that sounds like “typo, typo.” Oh man. 21 hours and 10 minutes to go…

7:22PM – The movie just ended. I had the lovely opportunity to go to the bathroom on board, which was quite an experience. We’re moving at about 75 miles an hour. The Captain is still milling. He made his way upstairs for a while, attempting to strike up conversation. The bus attendant brought him back down and asked him to please stay in his seat. He’s standing again, reading what I’m writing. You are weird. Sit down. He laughed. Hmm…

8:13PM – The Captain just emerged from the bathroom. He went in there at 7:40.

8:47PM – The Captain snores LIKE WHOA.

9:32PM – We just made our pit-stop and pick-up in Tucuman. Who do you think surprised us at the bus station? None other than Patricia and Pupe! They brought sandwiches, cookies and of course, soda for us as a mid-trip recharge. With those two, you never go hungy! Pupe has informed me that I am her “Yankee Grandson” and I can consider her my “Argentinian Grandma” forever. I can’t wait to come back and visit them!


9:54PM – We just watched the “bus safety” video, which included an overview of how to know how fast the bus is moving. “Look at the velocity meter,” it said. Will do.

11:20PM – The woman in the row in front of me started freaking out because her seat wouldn’t stay fully reclined. She was screaming at everyone. The bus attendant woman was doing everything she could to get it to stay flat, including literally jumping on the headrest. All the commotion woke Marina up, who offered to assist. For whatever reason, Marina solved the crisis in a matter of minutes then proceeded to yell at the woman for getting upset with the bus attendant, who obviously had nothing to do with the broken chair. Rock on, Marina!

11:54PM – Marina couldn’t go back to sleep so I introduced her to Desperate Housewives, courtesy of iTunes. I forgot how twisted and complicated the show is.

9:15AM – Just woke up from a less-than-wonderful bus sleep though feeling oddly refreshed. The Captain is still sleeping.

10:36AM – The Captain just woke up. He’s standing in the aisle again. He’s got major bed head and looks a lot like Don King right now.

11:22AM – The Captain just emerged from the bathroom. He went in there at 10:45AM. Man, what’s he doing in there? Now he’s watching me type again. Sweet. Almost there. Signing off for now.

21 May 2007

Smelly Buses and Beautiful Sunsets – The Road To The North Is Paved With A Desire To Sleep


We were up at 3:30am to catch our bus to Humahuaca, 7 hours from Tucuman. Patricia had breakfast on the table (our hostess with the mostess). All I want to do is sleep. We haven’t been doing much of that lately – at least not in beds. 4 AM and we’re out the door, arriving a full 15 minutes early for our bus, scheduled to depart at 4:30am. 4:30am comes and goes. No bus. 5AM. No bus. It turns out our bus was delayed because of worker protests along the route. Apparently people block all traffic for hours upon end in opposition to something, but no one is quite sure what, exactly. I later learned that the men who distribute welfare are – shockingly – corrupt, and force recipients to do this by threatening to withhold their monthly allowance. Awesome.

Needless to say, we end up on another bus that is heading all the way to the Bolivian border (and get a full refund for the delayed bus tickets. United Airlines, pay attention). This bus is about 112 degrees and smells of eggs, sweat and Doritos. I spend the next seven hours getting the worst sleep of my life before arriving “refreshed” in Humahuaca, the quaintest most adorable UNESCO World Heritage Site I have ever seen. Let the games begin. We quickly drop our bags before meeting Ayelen & Florencia, the leaders of “Basura Verde Proyecto En Accion” (Green Trash Action Project). These girls could be out of Brooklyn, they’re so hip. Their first question is “Do you know Beyonce?” I of course lie and say “absolutely!”


The rest of the day wass a whirlwind. Marina, Gonzalo and I were so exhausted we did all we could to be gracious guests, which wasn’t difficult given their planning and hospitality. They took us on a tour of their school before hosting an enormous lunch in the “room where we sit if a teacher doesn’t show up.” Ayelen had informed the local government of my visit and they in turn supplied all the food to prepare our meal.

Following lunch the four of us, along with their team’s ally – a teacher – and a half-dozen friends or so hopped into a big van to “see the sites” of Humahuaca. We went first to the town’s independence statue, followed by a casual stroll through the street market. I asked them why they weren’t in school today. “Because we have a special guest, silly,” Florencia told me.


Then it was off the beaten path, to the city dump, where people literally throw piles and piles of garbage into the desert and light it on fire. This is what Florencia and Ayelen are trying to eradicate through their Venture – dumps like these across their province. They’ve launched education campaigns in their school and throughout the community, teaching people about recycling and garbage sorting. Still, the local government continues to put up road blocks. The woman were able to get an entire neighborhood to agree to sorting their garbage into organic and non-organic, only to discover that the trash collectors put everything in the same bin and take it all to the city dump. “There is nothing we can do, because the people in the town will always support the government. They are scared.” Still, the girls press on, recruiting more volunteers, launching new education initiatives and leading by example. Imagine not just understanding but taking action to fight environmental degradation in a small town 9000 feet up in the Argentinian frontier?

We finished the day with a trip to “Hippie Mountain” (there is an enormous foreigner hippie community in this part of Argentina) to get a panoramic view of the area, followed by a trip to the school’s farm, where they hope to open a recycling center as soon as they have the funding (um, amazed yet? I was). Once we got back to school the ladies said we had twenty minutes before the culture show started, so we raced to the hotel to put on some pants then zipped to the internet café with the hope of posting a blog. Sadly, the connection was slower than anything I have ever experienced in my entire life, EVER, so no blog that day.

Feeling inconsiderate, we were back at the school ten minutes late, me thinking we had ruined the whole evening. Luckily, this is Argentina, where twenty minutes means two hours. We had snacks, drank Mate (the traditional Argentinian tea-like concoction) and chit-chatted from 6:15pm to 8:10pm before the extravaganza began. Gonzalo looked like he was going to pass out. Marina had a migraine. I was, once again, the guest of honor.


I can’t even begin to tell you how charming and wonderful the show was. They combined the traditional “Mother Earth” ceremony with local dance routines (in which Marina and I were urged to participate) before the big finish, which included dumping a bucket of confetti on my head. Hurray? Now closing in on 10PM, the ladies wanted us to go out for a nice dinner with them. We graciously declined, agreeing to meet them for breakfast instead. At this point I don’t think Gonzalo was actually conscious. Marina and I both had pounding migraines. Sleep was the only thing on my mind. In fact, I slept NINE HOURS. I honestly don’t remember the last time I slept nine hours all in a row. It was worth every minute, I tell you that much!

After another day of bus rides and team visits, we’ve just boarded our last and final bus back to Buenos Aires. This one is 22 hours. Thank god for Shania Twain remixes in Spanish!

20 May 2007

Tucuman, Argentina – The Whole World Wrapped Up In One Small Town

We rumbled down the dirt road to Patricia and Pupe’s house (a friend of a friend of a coworker’s sister’s aunt’s cousin’s priest, or something similar. That’s how it works in Argentina. They’re so incredibly open and kind. When Patricia heard we were coming to town through eight degrees of separation, she insisted we stay with her). Horse-drawn carts were sprinkled among old Ford pickups, an enormous fleet of Fiat taxi cabs and the occasional luxury car. People were milling about everywhere. “Everything” stores (those shops in the developing world that literally sell every possible food and household item that you would ever need) were everywhere!


We arrived to find Pupe (who has quickly made her way onto my “Top Ten Favorite People On Earth” list) had cooked up a big giant lunch including chicken, bread, sandwiches, hot dogs, fruit, coffee, tea, orange juice, Sprite and Coke. This would soon become one of two themes of my time in Tucuman. We were there for a total of four meals and I ate the above plus Empanadas with Coke, more sandwiches with Coke, rice, bread, spinach quiche and bread with Coke, cereal and yogurt with tea and Coke and an entire homemade flan, with Sprite (they were out of Coke). By our second night I had gained a solid twelve pounds and went digging for some Rolaids.

The second theme was some of the most incredible young people I’ve ever met. We had four teams in Tucuman when I arrived and after a 100% successful panel round led by Marina, YV Argentina staff, we had ten teams when I left. Thanks once again to incredible planning by Marina (she’s basically superhuman and amazing), I was able to meet all of them.


We began at the home of Natalia, who started “Delicioso Comidas Para Llevar” (Delicous Take-Away Food). She uses a home made mud oven in the backyard to cook Empanadas (which she served to us, along with a bottle of wine that I was asked to uncork as the Guest of Honor) and other local favorites for parties and special events, using the proceeds to prepare meals and buy clothes for families in her community who are in need. Her husband supplies the wood for the oven, donating scraps from the furniture he builds. Her kids now play an active role in preparing the meals and making drop-offs. “People found out that I do this – give away food and clothes – and now they many knock on my door all the time. How can I say no? They are in need. I must help.” She recently expanded her enterprise, opening a full-fledged store at the front of her home to raise more money and meet an even greater need.


Next it was Juan, who used his funding to refurbish the city’s library and rec. center so kids would have a safe place to study and play after school. Called “Ensenando Para Un Futuro Mejor” (Teaching For A Better Future), he got computers and internet service donated so the kids could connect with the rest of the world. Juan also found an English teacher to give lessons three days a week, because he believes English will give them “access to a better life.” At 25, he works a separate full-time job, maintaining the library on the side. In January Tucuman experienced major flooding. Juan opened his doors to more than 100 people whose homes were destroyed, sleeping on library tables for more than a week while managing food and showers for those affected. He also schooled me in futbol (soccer, duh).


We met Carla in what used to be an abandoned warehouse until she asked for and got permission to use it as a studio for belly dancing lessons. Aisha, the name of the program, is now in its third year of empowering young women by building confidence through dance.


Carla has not only given these ladies a creative outlet; she has also provided an after-school activity that doesn’t lead to baby-making, as well as rejuvenated a run-down building and neighborhood. She was also willing to teach me how to shake my thang.


I finished the day at a genv.net web training seminar hosted by Ely, a Youth Venturer who started “Centro Tecnologico Vecinal” (Community Technology Center), a local internet café where she and her brother not only offer access, but training in how to use computers. Her facility is completely FREE for the low-income kids in her neighborhood. She offsets operating costs by charging adults and other folks who can afford it. She is single-handedly working to bridge the great divide that exists between rich and poor by educating youth on what is becoming the great equalizer – technology.

More than twenty young people showed up to our web training, set up profiles on our site and connected with people in other countries. Some of them had started their own programs, others were just beginners. Everyone, however, shared an interest in making their community better.

Tucuman embodies every problem and every hope that we’re facing as a generation. More and more kids are snorting Paco, the crap left over after they’ve made premium cocaine. Teen pregnancy is on the rise. Schools are terrible. The divide in wealth is growing. Politicians care less and less about people and more and more about their own personal interests. It’s only my first stop and already I’m noticing that we really aren’t all that different. Poverty is poverty is poverty. The importance of education is borderless. Empowering young people is a universal goal and as I’ve begun to see, a universal reality. Join them. Find your inspiration. www.genv.net

16 May 2007

When Recliners Meet Celine Dion In Spanish – On A Bus


Our bus was departing at 8:15pm. I should have known at 8:02pm when we were still standing in the office that time was going to be tight. Combine our late departure with a 65-year-old cab driver who didn’t quite understand the severity of our situation and you’ve got one stressed out host in the form of Marina, the Avancemos representative escorting me to the North. Since she was so worried I didn’t have to be, so I just laughed about the whole thing. We get to the bus station at 8:14pm and Marina darts into the building. I’m a close second with Gonzalo, the Argentine venture rep bringing up the rear. Marina is literally “paving the way” for us, zigzagging through crowds of adults, children and luggage. The big digital clock now says 8:15pm and Marina is talking to herself in Spanish. I’m guessing she’s using angry words. I’m still laughing. I mean, how funny would it be to miss a 15-hour bus that wouldn’t leave again tomorrow after missing an 11-hour flight that didn’t leave again until a day later? Pretty funny!

We arrive at our “gate” (this bus station is reminiscent of an airport) and Marina flings the tickets in the man’s face. He takes them calmly, pointing to the luggage compartment. Marina smiles at me, relieved. I turn to smile at Gonzalo only to find that he is nowhere to be found. Gonzalo is gone. He was there we exited the cab and still behind me when we got into the building. Now the only thing behind me is an older, heavyset woman wearing lots and lots of gold jewelry. Marina tells me to find him. Um, ok?

I walk back to the central corridor and keep my eyes peeled, scared to leave the bus for fear that I’ll be gone, he’ll show up and I’ll have no idea how to get back to the bus. This really isn’t an effective search method. There are literally thousands of people milling around. So, for lack of a better idea I start yelling his name. “Gonzalo! Gonzalo!” People start staring. This isn’t like China, where no one notices anything you do. Curious heads turn and watch. It is now 8:19pm but it feels like an eternity has passed. I’m still cracking up inside about missing the bus. Suddenly, like in a movie, the crowds part and Gonzalo appears, shaking his head. “I went to far,” he says. I nod. We “check” our luggage and board the bus, crisis averted.


It’s now 11pm. I’m sitting in my luxo super reclining dream chair at the front of the top floor, so I’ve got a 270-degree view of the Argentinian countryside. At about 9:15pm the “bus attendant” told us to “put our seats in the full and upright position, lower our leg rests and insert our tray tables” for dinner. They really take bus travel seriously! She brought two small sandwiches and poured us each a glass of champagne (no, seriously). I assumed this was dinner, until about 40 minutes later she reappeared with a plate of rolled deli meats, cheeses and empanadas. Apparently the sandwiches were a “snack.” The champagne continued to flow. “This must be dinner,” I thought to myself. 10 more minutes pass and the woman appears once more, this time carrying a steaming tray of roasted chicken and mashed potatoes as well as MORE champagne. We’re now pushing 10:30pm and here I am eating two sandwiches, an enormous plate of deli meats and cheeses, two chicken legs and mashed potatoes, all while “Take My Breath Away” pumped through the bus speakers. This “jam” was followed by a DVD of Cirque du Soleil in Vegas. The evening concluded with a US feature film starring Vince Vaughn that I had never heard of. I don’t even remember the name. I’m just about to watch an episode of The Office before drifting off myself. Peace out.

Update: It’s 8:12am. The entire bus was forcibly woken up at 7:15am with Celine Dion’s “All By Myself” blasting in Spanish. In protest, I left my seat in full recline until just minutes ago. I missed breakfast, which is alright because I’m still full from last night (all I’ve really done since arriving is eat hunks of meat and cheese quiches). At some point in the night my eye mask fell off and is now nowhere to be found. Oh god…they’re playing Brian Adams…in Spanish…and we almost hit a guy on a bike…and now it’s Robbie William’s “Angels” in Spanish…

Webisode #3 - In The Middle Of Argentina, Somewhere

The third installment of my World Tour webisodes! This one comes all the way from Tucuman, Argentina, which is about 1000 miles North of Buenos Aires. Amazing stuff happening here!



Here's the direct link, if you can't see the embedded file: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G2PMM3kCXcg

15 May 2007

Kissing Babies On The Forehead & Shuffling Rival Newspapers Around


After an hour ride on a “traditional” Argentian minibus we had reached our destination – one of probably hundreds of Buenos Aires’ suburbs. Like most Latin American capital cities, Buenos Aires is home to nearly 35% of the country’s population and continues outward from city center for nearly 100 miles. The town was totally adorable, with it’s tiny single-family homes, main street with pharmacy, bank, super market (where we ate breakfast) and coffee shop and central school, which was our destination.

We met Gonzalo and Julia Souto there. Brother and sister, they started Abuelos y Chicos: Hagamos Teatro (Grandparents and Children: Lets Make Theater) in December with an Avancemos (Youth Venture’s Argentine partner) grant funded by Office Net, the name Staples uses in Latin America. We began with coffee and a roundtable discussion with their high school’s headmasters and teachers. Now 23 and 24 respectively, Gonzalo and Julia are “the only two students” to come back and work with kids from their own school,” the headmaster told me. “We are very proud.” They gave me an impressive book about their school, Newlands, as well as an official student pin. I got pinned in Argentina!


Then we hopped on a bus full of all the seventeen and eighteen year-olds from Newlands en route to a local nursery for children whose parents have to work all day to make ends meet, leaving the kids with nowhere to go. The bus ride was more than amusing. Laura, who would soon become our guide, strummed her guitar while the entire bus sang Madonna’s “Like a Prayer.” As we drove up to the Nursery I could see all the kids standing at the fence. They clearly knew today was visitor day. Half of the high school kids started in immediately playing with, teaching and mentoring the five to eight year-olds. The other half disappeared into a back room, which I discovered played host to the most adorable infants and toddlers I have ever seen. I honest to goodness wanted to take one home. I wheeled one around in his walker, made playdoh with Olivia and helped another boy secure his mask for the upcoming theater rehearsal. He was the lion.


In talking with Laura, my guide, I learned that what Gonzalo and Julia have done is find a way to improve cross-generational relationships between high school youth, underprivileged children and senior citizens that have been “left to die” in homes, as she described it. Gonzalo and Julia, along with their old teacher from Newlands, bring the high schoolers to the Nursery every Monday, where they not only feed the babies and make playdoh, but work with the kids to develop a short play with singing, dancing and costumes. Local senior citizens also come to the nursery once a week, adding additional insight into the production while acting as another role-model figure for these small children in need. The kids then take the production on the rode, performing at local soup kitchens, other low-income schools and senior citizen’s homes. This helps them improve their interpersonal skills while simultaneously building confidence in themselves; both necessary and crucial to early childhood development.

I don’t even know where to begin when it comes to addressing impact. Gonzalo and Julia have found a way to support at-risk youth, offer a positive outlet for teenagers and give abandoned elderly something to live for using an incredibly important and timeless medium – theater, something he believes brings generations together. When asked what inspires him to keep going, Gonzalo said “because I want to put the old people in a role that fits them and I am satisfied because I see the expression of the children when they do this and it makes me happy.” Plus, I got to make playdoh!

The afternoon played host to back-to-back media interviews with Argentina’s two largest publications, Clarin & La Nacion, who also happen to be major competitors. Clarin was at 3pm, La Nacion at 4pm, which meant we had to do a little dance to keep things flowing smoothly. We convinced the Clarin people that it would be a better idea to shoot photos and host interviews in the Plaza, since it was such a beautiful day. Per usual, things were running long. After I was done with Clarin and Gonzalo was being interviewed, Carolin (Avancemos staff) and I ran back to the office to catch the folks from La Nacion. Their photographer suggested the Plaza for photos. Carolin told her there was construction (half true) and that there was this really nice fountain the other direction, which was also nice. Now, this photographer was a total character. She had long hair down past her butt and kept telling me what to do in Spanish, which I don’t understand. “I don’t understand either,” Carolin told me. The other interviews were still dragging on, which meant more stalling. We walked back to the office and I started talking with the reporter. The photographer was busy redesigning the office to fit her photographic needs. Mid sentence she poked her head in and asked if anyone wanted coffee. There were nods all around. I assumed she meant she was going to run down to a coffee shop. Nope. She just popped into the office kitchen, made some coffee and returned to the room with a full coffee service – a plate of tiny cups, spoons, sugar and French-pressed brew. No one thought that was strange except for me. Could you imagine a total stranger, who just took your picture for the newspaper, in your kitchen making coffee? So friendly here!


The others eventually showed up and did their interviews, which were followed by another photo shoot with the wacky but lovably woman; only this time, she had me holding a map of Argentina, as if it belonged to me or something. After a few shots she realized this image was less than desirable and we regrouped. Now I’m just doing final prep before boarding the bus to the North. More soon, I promise.

14 May 2007

Buenos Aires – Latin Lovin’ Like No Other


After two solid days of traveling or attempting to travel, it felt good to finally step foot in Argentina. After passing through the most efficient customs I’ve ever experienced and being forced into a maze of Duty Free insanity, I grabbed my bag and hit the ATM. Well, I tried to hit the ATM. The first one I tried (HSBC) was out of money. I kept asking for lower amounts and lower amounts until finally I got to about $4 and figured that wouldn’t do me much good anyway. After a good five minutes of wandering I found a second ATM. Sadly, the “enter” button on this machine was broken, so there was no way to tell it to move on and go to the next screen. The woman at the info booth could not have been more helpful and guided me to my third (and this time successful) ATM attempt.

Then it was to the cab stand. I turned down every guy on the way, really wanting to get a “legit” taxi. The man at the official Taxi booth directed me to a guy standing a few feet away puffing a cigarette. “He’ll take you,” he said. This guy stolled up very “I own this country” and told me he was parked “over there,” waving his hand erratically. Heeding the advice of a friend, it actually felt alright so I went with it. Good decision. He set a land speed record and got me downtown in about twenty minutes. “Cars are made to be driven,” he said, while zooming around our fellow freeway travelers, cigarette in hand, radio blasting Mika’s ‘Love Today.’ “I love this song, he kept telling me, tapping his hand on the dash.

We arrived at my “crash pad” ( a coworker’s place) and I quickly showered before hitting the town on my only day off with another coworker – Carolyn. She and I really did it up right. We saw (in order, with pictures:

Casa Rosada (The President’s House)


San Telmo (Where are the foreigners hang out. These two were posing all afternoon)


Caminito (The old port part of town, where people painted their homes with the leftovers from the boat)


Tumba de Evita (Evita’s Tomb)


& Recoleta (a beautiful market/music park right downtown)


Buenos Aires is incredibly international, striking the perfect balance between South American charm and European sensibility. American brands are slim – only Levi’s, McDonalds & Burger King are all over the place (BK’s signs reading “Los Angeles”) and there are absolutely no Starbucks, a far cry from Shanghai. There are police officers EVERYWHERE enforcing laws that aren’t really publicized (like parking on the left side of the street. Oops!), the cabs and buses run on natural gas (so clean) and everyone is friendly and helpful, particularly with driving directions. Oh, and they play host to the most incredible ice cream I’ve ever tasted, not to mention enormous sandwiches that literally consist of a slab of beef and some tomatoes on a big baguette. Tango is HUGE too! I was exhausted by the end of the day and crashed before 10pm – a record for me. Got up at 6:30 this morning to take a short run (only got slightly lost) and now heading out to visit a team. So far so good!

02 May 2007

Wait, This Is For Real...


So I was in a meeting this afternoon with the entire Argentina team which is currently in the DC office for planning, strategy, etc. and we were going over the Argentina leg of the tour, which just so happens to be the first stop on the tour.

It started out simple: "We'll pick you up from the airport then visit a team, then let you unload your stuff." No big thing. Then it got to "and we'll take the 16-hour bus into northern Argentina to meet with teams working to bridge the gap between young and old through theater. They live in a remote village along the Bolivian border. No internet there." Ok, kind-of getting intense. Then it finished with "and the most popular magazine (The Nation) will do an interview on our last day in Buenos Aires, followed by a press conference for major media." I can't believe this is real, and I can't believe it's starting next week. So nervous, anxious and excited all at once!

Have to do some essentials shopping soon, so I'll keep you updated on what I'll be "equipped" with...Wow...for real?