Time to Leave, But Not Yet To Home

My arm stetched out to search the satchel hanging above my bunk, searching for my cell phone. I checked the time. I had awoken 10 minutes before my 7 am alarm had gone off to awaken all the young people in the 8 person dorm style room that I was staying in. I had arrived in Buenas Aires on Monday and was now staying in PAX Hostel, awakening 2 days later to meet my friend arriving from Portland.

I stumbled my way through the darkness to get dressed and showered up. Breakfast had not yet been served, and my stomache cringed in angst but a kidnapped Ham and Cheese Empanada from the night before would be the relief. For $8 a night I was still trying to get the most out of what the Hostel offered its guests.
I won´t have the money to be buying breakfast, to be sleeping in hotels, to be taking tours in Taxis in the weeks to come, but now I am glad to be here. I have met girls from Norweigh and Sweden, and guys from Germany and Australia. I have met the hosts who are extraordinarally hospital and friendly.

I met my friend at EZEZA International Airport in Buenos Aires at 9:30 heaving a duffle bag that I imagined was carrying a body. It was carrying a 45lb backpack, full of tent, campstove, eating utensils, clothe, books and a camera; everything he expected to need for a 30 day backpacking adventure through South America..
Over the next month we will be making our west to the Pacific and Chile, and then up North to Peru. On the 23rd of December we have a reservation for Machu Pichu, one of the most historic and most notorious ruins in all of the world. Once home to The Incan people during the 1400´s, this mountain city about 7,950 ft in the sky gets thousands of tourists a day and is in threat of being closed down from foriegners within coming years. The sad side of preservation.


Until then we don´t know where we will go, what we will see, or where we will sleep, but we know that we need to be ready and it will be a blast!

Today we will enjoy the day in Buenos Aires, taking bikes to the old historic sites, to the river, and maybe at night to a Tango Club or Dance show.

This is Caminito, in the neighborhood, La Boca.
These houses that once held up to 60 immigrant Europeans at a time during the 1800´s gave birth to a fabulous culture of Tango, and remains today as vibrant as before.

We are in Argentina, the possiblities are limitless when you are trying to see the world!

An Interview

On Sunday morning I met with a few good friends of mine at their church on Salta Street to grab an interview with a local middle-schooler.

In the midst of this blazing heat and sweating humidity that we are facing right now in this season becoming summer, I broke for a minute from packing my bags to see what I could learn from a youthful Argentine spirit.

Mateas is 11 and in 6th grade.
He goes to Colegio Rosario, a private school that teaches all grades up through highschool.

Below is the translated transcription of the intro to our interview.

Philip - What is your name?

Mateas - Mateas.

Philip - Good To meet you! I need to make a short interview that I would like to present to a middle school class in The United States, if you don't mind I have a few questions for you.

Mateas - Ok

Philip - So what school do you go to?

Mateas - I go to the school Colegio Rosario.

Philip - It's private?

Mateas - Yes, its private.

... and then he surprised me and starting talking in english.

As he talked I began to realize that he wasn't that different then the middle-schoolers of The U.S. He had dreams, ambitions, desires for travel and for college.
But what struck me as unique was his strong desire to learn english, and to continue going to english school after he was graduated. The contrast that it had to my own years growing up in which I dreaded learning another language, a foriegn language, I thought that English was all I would need. Why would I need to learn another language whpen English is the official? I realized that I was talking to a very bright person with big aspirations and a powerful motivation.


Think right now about all the images that come to your mind to when you think about an Argentinian. What do you think they like to do? What do you think they like to eat?
Now, as you watch a few clips from the rest of our interview think about what differences and what similarities you stick out.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3R1bRlRlURI

First Date

I went on my first real date last night in Rosario, finally I took the oppurtunity!

Our plan was to go to a free Tango class that I had discovered and circled multiple times in a local events brochure, right after an art exhibit, and right before a screening of Steven Spielberg's Amistad.

I waited at the address of the place under the sign of a Café titled "Londres" or London but no light shone through the bars of the gated windows. As I waited until 30 after, couples dressed in fashionable dress atire came and went dissapointed. It was very closed.

She arrived a bit later. She gave a kiss goodbye to her friend who she came with, and there was a hand shake goodbye to mine, and I explained what was obvious about the Tango class, and we walked.

Her english was little and my spanish remained vague, but we were able to make the best of the night that we had.

We talked about music, our favorite bands and travel. Families and friends, work and school. It was an introduction to understanding the other and discovering our connections, filtering through ourselves as we ate ice-cream sundaes at a parlor called "Buen Humor"; Good Mood.

Later the clock was past 11 and we had to split ways to allow time for rest before my final exam that would come today. (I wait for my turn to enter the class room at this moment as I type, to produce a conversation about Disc-Golf with my profesora.)

We hugged and left with a real kiss on the cheek.

Nos vemos! - She said

Nos vemos! - I said

We talk soon! - she said through a text

A Day in the Life

On a Saturday, what do you like to do?

On a Holiday or Weekend, when there is no school, no obligations?

One of the best perks for me of living in Portland is that you have a mountain on one side, the ocean on the other, and endless wilderness of forests and river and lake everywhere inbetween and beyond. It has created a culture of hikers, bikers, boaters and slope hitters. Local shops are specialized so that people can find anything that they would need. If you are the outdoorsy type then Portland is heaven. The city and the citizens have found how to utilize their environment.

Me looking over the edge of the abyss at Smith Rock

The environment of Rosario is perfect for other activities that the citizens here have set in to the culture. I have failed my role as a Sociologist overlooking the oppurtunity to discover these things, but have surpassed my requirment as a local by participating in double the required amount to become unoficially a "citizen." With the end approaching like a pooch to its food dish (Goodbye Dinner is Thursday!!???) I've decided that it is necesary to set aside hesitation and to go adventure the city as much as I can before I leave.

Saturday morning I woke up around 10:30, way to tiered to be getting up at this time because I had gone to a concert the night before that didn't start until after 12:30 a.m.... my ears still rang.

Rosario is a Culture of Late Nights

I wanted to go to a museum that I had read about: "Guided Visits of the Historial City!!" I thought it was something that would be neat to see before I left. Every trip needs a tour. (Am I a nerd? Yes? No?).

Rosario is a Culture of Education & History

The tours turned out to be private and I got asked to leave the museum as I was taking

pictures over the heads of the tourists. I walked across the street to a park that had been occupied by camping protestors for awhile and my curiosity led me to ask why they were camped out. I discovered that Occupy Rosario had been running for 8 days.

Rosario is a Culture of Political Activism

Down along the river I was looking through the merchandise of the small open-air merchants for a unique hand crafted Mate set to take home before I left. Have you tried searching for Mate sets in The U.S.? It is almost impossible to find one! Just walking along the river here I saw almost every one with drinking Mate, laughing, and chatting with friends and family.

Rosario is a Culture of Family and Relationships

Mate: a traditional Argentine drink similar to a tea. Uses the Yerba plant, drunk out of a dried

gourd with a metal straw, this very energizing drink has a strong taste that takes some getting accustomed to, but it avoids the nasty side-effects of caffiene, using Matetina. Mate is a deep part of the culture.

Rosario is a Culture of Mate

I embarked on the next ferry departing for the Island. In the middle of The Parana River are a group of Islands, one that has a beach stocked with cafes, restaurants, volleyball nets, and water based vehicles. The sand was almost invisible by the layer of people crowding the beach.

Rosario is a Culture of The River

Once the Thunerstorms started tearing up the umbrellas and throwing around our towells we

had to go back to the main land. Waiting for 1,000 people to take a boat set for maximum of 100 kept us posted up under half-exposed cabanas, and reminded me of a horror movie I had once seen.

Rosario is a Culture of The Sun

After a long and hot shower and the dressing up in a sweater and long pants, the rains had

passed and I went out to go meet up with a friend. As I walked the middle-lane side walk I was passed by a pack of rollerbladers, bicyclers, and scateboarders. I didn't know that rollerblades even still existed, but they are everywhere in the city! If you go to the scate park near the river you will find the same people there 5 to 6 hours a day. It's practically full-time job!

Rosario is a Culture of Rollerblades and Wheels

A bit further down I came across a house covered in lights, banners, and an aroma of sauerkraut. People were coming and going through the gated entrance, so I went to check it out. I enjoyed a fine German dinner with traditional polk music at this 2 day festival celebrating German Heritage.

Rosario is a Culture of a Pride in Heritage

I met up with my friend Karr around 11:30. He plays in a Metal band that is influenced by Metallica and Iron Maiden, so he took me to a party of Rock n' Roll that happens once a month. Everyone was delighted to hear the Misfits, Black Sabbath, The Ramones, and even a slice of Blink 182. If you know these bands, excellent, you are a true rocker, but all these bands left their prime a while ago. Asking people what bands they like, I always get a top 3: "U2, Coldplay, Oasis, Guns N' Roses". Yes. That is 4, but when you get that old you begin to lose track of things.

Rosario is a Culture of Older Musical Influence

A night of meeting new friends kept me up until the daylight shined through the windows, but

this is typical of Argentine life. I went home and sunk deep into my pillow and mattress, a fan blowing to distill the sweltering heat a bit to break the barrier that keeps me from sleep, but I know that the heat is also the reason for so much more life during the nights.

Do you think that this is place that you would enjoy to live?

The enviroment that is specific to Rosario has shaped the way in which people spend their time and gain their values in the same manner that Portland has been shaped by its. History and strong roots of heritage influence peoples likes and dislikes, and also influences from the past in the U.S. are discovered to not have died, but to have moved to a new home in which they are loved. Why do you think that is?

Do you notice how other cultures you may know are influenced by a different surrounding?

Rosario, oh Rosario, you give me so much to learn.

A New Form of Discrimination

What exactly is discrimination?

Is it not trusting someone intrinsically based on skin?

Is it not befriending someone because of their gender orientation?

Is it not letting someone play on your team because of their body size?

Is it making fun of someone because they don't have the financial ability to afford certain luxuries.

Discrimination is all of these things.

It is horrendous in all meanings of the word.

Do you think that these things still happen today as much as they used too?

Is it in the school? The workplace?

As a Sociologist we study why these different types of discrimination occur and what kind of effects they can have on people and future generations to come. But Mariano informed me last week during our interview of a new type of discrimination that I had no idea existed!

Political Discrimination.

With this latest Presidency of Cristina Krishner who has just entered her second term, there has been a lot of controversy around her actions and agenda. People ask, "who is she supporting?"

The district of Santa Fe, in which Rosario is located, and in which I live, chose as a majority to not support the Krishner administration, but this choice has left them feeling the reprocussions of choosing not to align with Cristina.

Their income from Federal financing was reduced, while the Cristina's hometown disrict of Santa Cruz gained more then 400%...

That means all those services I talked about last time - education, police, maintenace, health - all those that had been reduced in financing, have been cut back even more to manage the financial crisis. And as quality of services and life goes down crime rates go up. It is no different then any other form of discrimination.

This issue has been in court for the past 3 1/2 years.

A Breath of Fresh Air

Last weekend I was struck by an ill case of Wanderlust again. Wan-der-lust- n - "a strong longing for, or impulse toward wandering."

More or less I had to leave at some point, my passport stamped by Argentina upon my entering limited me to only 90 days in the country - the only ways to extend my stay would be to pay $140 or leave the country and return. I chose the journey to Uruguay.

That's Uruguay back back behind me, past the far River Uruguay.

Looks different doesn't it.

Uruguay neighbors Argentina, bordering it on the Eastern seaboard of South America. I arrived in Concordia Thursday night, the last city in Argentina before the river

in this region.

In the morning I traveled to Salto by ferry, crossing the Uruguay river, and then heading 20km south to camp at the Hotsprings of Dayman.

Salto is in the top left corner of the country, but still about 800 miles south of The Brazillian border.

After a night of soaking, socializing, horseback riding, Uruguayzing (I just made that word up) I caught a bus back to Rosario, along the way achieving the new 90 day stamp that had set out for.

Politics are a kick.

The Tuesday before I was given the remarkable opputunity to sit down talk with one of the local Politicians or Rosario, Argentina. Mariano Roca is The Treasurer of The City Council right now, but has intentions to become a State Congressmen with much patience and sacrifice.

Mariano is the man on the left.

98% of the Cities budget is under the control of City Hall, that means keeping laws enforced, the streets clean, and maintaining the integrity, beauty, and oppurtunity for education of the city. 27% of this is specific for three main areas in providing free Public Health, accesablle transportation, and functioning garbage and sewage desposal.

So why is this something that I would want to write about?

Because that 27% is not an area that is by The Constitution supposed to be provided by the Province. But the province has not stood up to its side of the bargain. It was seen that the job was not being done to provide adequate services in those areas, and about 20 years ago The City agreed to take responsibility. The City had to intervene in behalf of the good of the people, but think about how large a percentage 27% is to be taken out of a total budget for maintaining an entire City?

After hearing this the doubts about leaving fleed my mind. I needed a vacation from my vacation.

And oh, it gets worse.

Utilizing My Skills

Coming into Rosario with a background in Sociology I knew that I was going to have a very exciting time learning how to interact with the locals. You see, sociology is the scientific study of human interations, figuring out what influences the surrounding social sphere has on shaping who we are, and on forming what we may pursue for our future. That part might make it sound kind of boring, and maybe I am just a nerd, but what is so exciting to me is that I knew that coming into Rosario I was going to be the outsider coming in.

One of the best perks to being a Sociologist is that you

have an excuse to go to events that draws in fanatics,

and particpate; all in the name of research and Science.

Would I be treated differently? (Most certainly, yes, I thought). What would people think of me? How would I conform, or distance myself? The term Double Consiousness was coined by W.E.B Du Bois to describe how individuals of a minority think not only about how they percieve themselves, but how the surrounding society percieves them.

These flooding thoughts influence how people interact, how they restrain themselves, and what is considered taboo. Comfortability is found when we don't have to be thinking about how we are perceived as different, and it is part of the reason why the 24 Americans that I study here with prefer to spend evenings and weekends together as a group, eating together, studying together, going to the beaches together.

Now I know what it is like to have Double Consiousness.

I remember when I first arrived I had it set in my mind that I was going to spend this trip avoiding Americans as much as possible. No way was I going to come back home regretting that I missed out on a perfect oppurtunty to immerse myself in an Argentine Culture. Talking with locals from cafes, meeting people at churches, getting connected with friends that I prefered to have little to none background in English. Most people I have found were very excited to meet an American, the girls especially (for some unknown reason). But I remember one day that I went to a nearby grocery store to look for Peanut Butter, (I admit, that is very American, but I wanted to make Cookies for my host family). Looking through the aisles googly eyed and lost in all the translations, I am sure I stook out as a confused and helpless foreigner. When one of the ladys working tried to ask me what I needed I responded in words only resembling an extra-terrestrial dialect of murmurs in my attempt to simply say "I am looking for Peanut butter." Now there were 2 ladys trying to figure out a way to assist me in someone, or at least come to an agreement on what I was trying to commuicate, and be confident that I wasn't lost and stranded and needing immediate return to the other side of the planet. By this time I'm positive all eyes and all jokes in the store were on me.

The second lady spoke - "De donde sos?" Where are you from?

Now I was dumbstruck. My eyes glazed over. What matter did where I am from have on helping me find Crunchy Peanut Butter? I was fine with even taking Creamy by then! Were there different sections of the store designated to accomadating different nationalities and cultures? Was there a Walmart down the road? Slowly, the words "The United States" slipped off the tip of my tounge floating in the air like the Goodyear blimp.

"Aja, es un Gringo!"

I felt like I was walking through a zen garden, then suddenly hit in the face with a rake that someone left lying upside down. The word Gringo sunk in to my memory bank and returned with thoughts of all the racial slurs I had heard back home in the United States. I didn't know what to say, so I agreed. Yes, I am a Gringo. And I left the store.

I later learned upon telling this story that in Argentina it is not a racial slur, nor is it meant to be derogatory by calling someone from the U.S. a Gringo. They also say "Shanky" (the local pronunciation of yankee). The ladies in the store and myself had two seperate processes of socializtion in out past. I was socialized to think that Gringo was a racial slur, and they were socialized to understand terms like these as normal, and unmalitous. These ideas that we are brought up and trained to believe and used to guide our actions are called "Norms," and I realized that our norms surrounding this point are different. My professor later enformed me that there is no idea of Political-Correctness here in Argentina, and I have to begin to change my mentality and understand that this is not an inherent evil. It is different, it is not to be taken offensively, and here right now, it is not my job to tell people what actions are right and which are wrong.

As a sociologists I am forever burdened with lugging around the hefty " Social Lens", a idiom for how we look perspectivelly at our surrounding situtations and try to figure out what certain social interactions signify, and how they came to be. The Social Lens becomes a filter through which we see the world. And also, it becomes a clear proof to me that what you learn in school and do in your future doesn't have to be dreaded - I kind of digg being a Sociologist. The best title to bear in the world.

At least that is what I've been taught.

Hey, that's my textbook!!

- - - - -

What do you imagine are some of the difficulties faced by people coming into foriegn lands and becoming a minority? Do you think limitations are created?

What challenges do you think are faced when having to realign your sense of what is normal and acceptable behavior? Like... pedestrians not having the right of way when crossing traffic? I think it's a lot of confusion.

Whose responsibility do you think it is to try and correct a different cultures practices?

Do you think there is ever time when it is necessary?

Is this a trick question? Maybe...

Viaje en Iguazu

We embarked on our 18 hour (plus or minus) bus ride at 4pm last Wednesday and drove straight through the night.

In the morning we arrived in the city of San Ignacio where we enjoyed a breakfast of coffee and crousiants, and saw ruins of the conquistadores.

On Day 2 we went on a Jungle Excursion, riding an open air vehicle I think I saw in a movie about the war in Vietnam.

We hiked through the jungles and came to a bride crossing to the top of Waterfall. Here, one by one, we repelled down the wet rocks of the cliff, through the rusing waters and down into a small pool below.

Next we saw rare and exotic animals at a local refuge that takes in hurt and abandoned critters, like our friends the monkeys, the tucans, and the warthogs.

SOMEBODY STOP THAT.... MONKEY!

At this corner of Iguazu three countries meet.

It is called "Tres Fronteras"

Where Paraguay, Argentina meet with Brazil.

Day 4 was the Adventure at the Falls themselves.

I hope you have watched the video, at the magnificance of these creations cannot be described in words.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jim3oy24cBA

The closest would be to say that we are very very small.

Does This Answer Your Question? PLUS a sweet video of Iguazu!

Jajaja, you got the dating situation right on the dot! It is different, but it seems to work out here (somehow).

(J is pronounced as an h, therefore, haha=jaja)

Justin Bieber is everywhere in the world. I'm sure kids in a remote village somewhere even have JB posters hanging over them at night. Thats why they call it a fever.

I don't actually know this guy, but he is a pretty true fan.

Sky diving...

like an instance of seeing death and claiming life, and then floating in a sea of clouds

- for me anyways.

Just don't think about what could go wrong.

On a daily basis... this is tough. Well, first thing I do is take a shower in a bathroom that is a single unit (no stall/tub - I have to use a squeegy to dry the floor after).

When I want to go out for coffee I find myself experiencing a different type of coffee culture. Coffee to go is unheard of unless it is Starbucks or McDonalds

The best deal I know is a Café con Leche and 2 medialunas (crouisants)

ranging from 7 to 11 pesos.

I usually order one sweet and one savory.

I go to a café to study, to sit down at a table on the back patio and have a short conversation with the waitress. There are 3 basic options -

Lagrima (literally, means "tear," as in a tear of coffee in a cup of milk)

Cortada (mostly coffee with a bit of milk)

Café con Leche (1/2 coffee 1/2 milk)

About once a week I go out with friends to play Soccer at an outdoor arena around 9pm. Around 10 we have boys and girls get together for a big parrilla which is the traditional Argentine Barbeque, and eat untill we are stuffed, which usually is close to midnight.

We don't use in bbq sauce or flavorings other than the natural flavor of the grill.

There is never a lot of vegetables, I have to bring any I want seperate, even to the dinner table.

On weekends many people head to the clubs, but you don't expect to get in till around 2am. That is the time people really start to show up. I recently figured out why everything lively happens at night - it's been 92 degrees plus here recently during the heat of the day.

I hope I have answered some of your questions, really there is much much more to life in Argentina, but it's something that you would have to experience to fully understand. I do my best to share.

If you want, I made a video of our trip to Iguazu falls over the weekend.

They are always compared to Niagra, though regardless of what N.Americans may tell you Iguazu is much more impressive.

Make sure to watch the rafting :)

Enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jim3oy24cBA

One Event - Multiple Perspectives??

This is something that blows my mind. I have a feeling like I have never had before.

I feel like I am always on the same page, or even one page ahead, of what is being taught in the classroom. I don't know how you all feel at school, but for me, there are certain days when I feel like I am drowning in information that is going way over my head. I want to shout "stop! Let me catch my breathe! I can only take in so much at a time!"

But this has changed. I feel like I am surfing. It's like "whoa, I am actually understanding all of this!" It feels great, and I digg it because I know I can use it like a tool belt when I walk out the door and even more - I feel a desire to do it.

The teaching in the school becomes closer to a mix of needed review and perfecting touch up's.

I can relax.

I can breath.

The cool thing about school is that you don't have to be burdened by it.

Education can really be empowering.

In order to fully satisfy the full possiblities of education and of this trip, I need to learn outside of School.

At the Law School students put their skills and imaginations together to

create a program encouraging bicycling for alternative transportation,

as well as to give free bicycles to less-beneftited youth from the Villas

as another source of empowerment.

Here at the commencing of the program a youth picks his new bike.

Over the past few weeks as the exams have been multiplying in difficult, I have found myself breaking out of the bubble of a little United States that has been formed among the study-abroad students that I have been acompanied with here. I am seeking out new things to try, stepping into the shoes of an Argentine citizen. I didn't travel half-way around the globe to be a tourist, but to become a local. I think that if I had it any other way I would be robbing myself of an amazing oppurtunity to meet incredible people, and understand incredible experiences.

The natural first step for me was to not follow the group of 25 U.S. Americans to the typical lunch stop at Restaurant "Zona 36." Instead I made way down a street I had not walked before, and found a Café with seating in a back terrace surrounded by vines of white flowers, rustic steel gates, and baristas that would challenge my understanding and use of spanish, because they themselves spoke no english.

With my new Argentine friends we would talk for hours about politics, current events, about life, love, and poverty. I have learned that there are many issues of great importance here that are shed little or no light upon by journalists back in the U.S. Things such as protests for education in Chile, economic crisis in Argentina, and politcal outrage throughout Latin America.

For example: recently in Argentina a cap has been placed on the purchasing and importing of U.S. Dollars. This means that I can't go to a bank and ask for any Ben Franklins or George Washingtons. It's as if they are untouchable. This is really big news, and the people here are going crazy!

"La Nacion" is one of the major newspaper printed in Buenas Aires. An Article that was printed yesterday entitled "Dolarmania" explains that historically thousands of Argentines have depended on the investing of U.S. Dollars as a form of saving and investment. Why you may ask? The U.S. dollar is steady. It is what most other forms of currency are held up to, to designate the value at any given moment.

"Regardless of the generation, the dolarmanía is rooted among Argentines. Although," said the former Minister of economy Carlos Rodríguez, "it is not that people have so much confidence in the dollar, but what happens is that they have distrust in weight, a currency in its short history has traveled more devaluations as periods of stability."

Imagine the outrage now that this has oppurtunity has been shut down. Its something that not even I can fully understand. But trying to understand, and talking to people about it helps me to understand them.

What I hear is that right now the U.S. dollar is worth roughly 4.215 times that of the Argentine peso, but about only 5 to 10 years ago they were 1 for 1.

Recently the banks have been overflowing with investors who have been going crazy to try and buy and sell there saved U.S. Dollars in order to make a killing off of the exchange rate.

I know it goes deeper then this, but as I asked my host-mom over lunch what she thought, I was strucken by the reality of a language barrier. I was lost in translation.

I found a funny and remarkable comment in the article I was able to translate through an online website:

"Since I started to have my own money from losing teeth, birthdays and other gifts, my parents always said that the safest was to have it in dollars and I was exchanging it," says Guido Commenge, "although at the time it was not so important because we were in full convertibility and a peso was equal to one dollar."

It goes on to say:

"Dolarmanía is rooted among Argentinians".

Again, I looked and I looked on a grip of websites and newsources from The U.S. but could not find even one lead in to this story. Where are the perspectives from the U.S. bankers? From the ones who distribute the money at its origin? It seems to be quite silent, but here, it has become a a horrendous hastle, as I am needing U.S. dollars in order to make a payment from a bank.

Media sources like to pick and choose what they show and tell, and stories typically get cut that don't directly impact in some form or another the audience, or that the government has some political interest in. (Who do you think helps pay for a certian policitcal parties campaigning?) Maybe they don't cover stories that they don't have a beneficial reason to get involved in.

What stories get published, (I have seen some of firemen rescuing cats- its not just a myth!) whose voices get heard, (who has the power and influnce) and what side of the story is told reflect a certain news producers perspective. Everyone has a bias, so I know that it is important to have a critically thinking mind so our bias doesn't create blind spots.

From reading stories like these that are leaving marks in the society around me, I am getting a better understanding of what is considered important and what is not, and it allows me to engage in conversation with friends and to listen to the opinion of the citizens of Rosario. It lets me open up to new and unheard perspectives. With an open mind I am able to grasp a deeper understanding of what pushes the buttons of the people, and what kind of reaction they are used to producing.

Who do you think has control over what is broadcast on the news, or written about in the newspaper?

Do you ever feel like something is changed, or is being left out in a story that you hear?

What do you think the benefits are of hearing the mulitple perspectives of any story or issue?

5 Days to Iguazu

We left last night around 4 to the Water Falls of Iguazu. A 15 hour ride through the night in an Charter Bus, only stopping for quick breathes at fuel stations along the way, taking us to the most north-eastern province of Argentina, Misiones. Relentless games of "20 Questions" were played.

Other games were played as well.

I woke up this morning as the Sun was peaking over the green jungle hills of the country side, waiting, listening patiently to hear if the birds song would initiate the day.

At 7:30 we arrived in a small town in which the name escapes me for a traditional breakfast of coffee and croisants. It might not hold the same nutritional value as some would prefer in the United States, but it is light and never overbearing, satisifying the stomaches crave and saving room for lunch.

We were at San Ignacio Mini, located on the border of Paraguay

Nearby lied the ruins of a Conquistador Mission, built during the early pilgrimages made by the Spaniards to create communities fully functional thousands of miles away from the homeland. There were schools, were markets, were medical centers and a prison. Seeing these ruins let me imagine what the explorers must have felt when falling upon the Incan ruins of Machu Picchu.

This was the beginning of our adventure, only half of day 1: the best has yet to come.

BieberManía!

Justin came to town the other day - actually, to Buenos Aires, the city of Romance, Tango, and History. He had 2 concerts, one night falling in the wake of the last, tantalizing fans and appeasing the dreams of others, in the process, aggravating enemies.

Thousands of voices were heard on the news broadcasting from the television over drinks at a café "Donde está Justin!" "Pienso que le vea!" "Me encanta vos, Justin!" "Casáme!!!!"

The thousands were barracading his hotel.

(That last phrase is "Marry Me," in the command form of spanish)

The tickets began at a base price of 1500 Argentine Pesos - I don't want to imagine how high they could have gone.

When musicians come here from the States, people go crazy and pay whatever it costs - I gave 300 to see Guns N Roses. I thought that was steep.

Many say that they don't have music like we do. But 1500?

I guess this kid is some sort of growing cultural phenomenon or something.