Sharing Cultures

The only thing better then recieving something is to give something.

Rosario, Argentina has presented me with a once in a life time oppurtunity to open myself up to a new culture, and to grow into appreciation of new values that they hold highly, and that I too can grow to hold.

The host family that I am staying with has offered me the warmth of shelter and a free seat at the dinner table every night of the week. Really, over the past month they have become "my family," and I more then anything want to give something back. It may cost me losing some of the bills in my wallet, but their hapiness and their smiles are much better to carry around.

Last night I shared with them an experience I believed to be a favorite among families of The United States. - I made French Toast.

What are some traditions or favorite meals that your family holds high? Among you, what are the similarities?? I would love to be able share some of these with my family here and new friends, (and I bet you would totally be helping me to score some more points with the ladies... :) )

We Went to Buenos Aires

La semana pasado, fuimos a Buenas Aires -

We went to Buenos Aires over the weekend, the capital and largest city of Argentina. Over 12 Million citizens have claimed B.A. and its surrounding metro area their home, making it the 2nd largest city in South America.

After finishing our 6am, 4 hour bus ride to the city, we made it to the hotel with just enough time to unpack our bags before we were off to see the sites:

Art museums, exhibiting the works of influential Latin American, and social revolutionizing painters such as Diego Rivera, and Frida Kahlo...

we went to a famous cemetary built in the likeness of ancient Greek Civilizations where the upper class and wealthy families buried their loved ones in a competition to see who could have the greatest lasting monument left behind... .

and we experienced open air markets called "Ferias", selling handmade foods, crafts, clothing and vintage ware.

That night dinner was served along side one of the cities most reputable "Espectáculos del Tango" - A 2 and a half hour Tango Show, at Madero Tango. The 3 course meal was in the fashion of the traditional Argentine meal with an "Entrada" (appetizer), followed by "El Plato Principal" (main dish), and concluded with a rich and delicious " Postre," (the dessert) . One of the choices for dinner was, of course, Steak... the pride product of Argentina. I woke up the next morning to be greeted by beautiful, dependable, Domingo (Sunday.) Today we toured the architecturally very European Catedrals de la Ciudad, old Catholic Churches that have withstood over a century of revolution and civil transformation. A tour guide and expert historian shared with us many of these stories of revloution, but to place them all here would be to give little respect to all the parties involved, and to you, for of all that I would write in a 1,000 page text book is not what you want to read. A few of these stories do deserve a future post all on their own.

All these memories in recollection our weekend to Buenos Aires was priceless and totally worth putting off extra studying for my 9am exam the morning after we returned... Any of you future Profesoras or Profesors out there, DONT DO THIS TO YOUR STUDENTS!!

Me Llamo es Philip Muir, y Vivo en Argentina

Hola chicas (y algún chicos que lee mi blog)!
Esto es el primer blog post que estaré compartiendo con tigo,
but I think I will try my hardest to write in English.

Basically what I meant to say is "I'M STOKED!"

If you are reading this post before the "Me llamo es Felipe..." ect. ect.. section, great! You don't need to read that later, it's pretty much the same! Son el mismo!

But I should tell you a little bit more about myself, so here I go.

My name is Philip Graham Muir, born in the late 80's I have come to love many fads, fashions, foods and a free mind able to pick out pieces of myself in cultures, countries, and especially other people, throughout time and the world.

The next scene I am beginning to act in my life I will record for you, and it has dropped me in the center of South America, in a city about 4 hours north of Buenas Aires, Argentina named after the Catholic rosary, or cross, called in spanish, "Rosario". (My friend Tidus never has his feet on the ground if he has the the choice to be in a tree.)

Here in Rosario, as in Mexico when I built houses at age 15, my name is "Felipe El Torro!"
Ok, I don't go by Phil The Bowl in the middle of conversation over a steak and egg-spinach tortilla meal, but once in awhile I like to introduce myself as El Torro and get a reaction that is justified by a curiousity in how my personality, seemingly so opposite that of a raging bull, has any connection to one that would have gotten me that name.

Back to being named Philip by my parents, I was born and raised in Portland, Oregon for 22 years of my 23 years of being able to laugh, cry, and attempting to communicate with other human-beings. About 6 months ago I began my final year at Portland State University, where today I am close to walking with my Major in Sociology. That's my family.

Don't get me wrong, of all the things about me that I would never change, being raised in Portland my whole life would be up on the top of the list next to the good people in it and my spirituality, but at 22 years of built up angst to get out of the country and see the world, I was like a pepsi can shaken during an entire class period.

"Wanderlust" is defined by Meriam-Websters Dictionary as; Wan-der-lust- n - "a strong longing for, or impulse toward wandering." that frankly defines what I have.

So here I am today, age 23, single, blonde (1 of about 5 in all South America) and ugh... yeah, im in "no one ever knows what I'm saying," South America!

I am so stoked to have the prime oppurtunity to share my experiences with you, to bring this place to life for you with vivid photographs, videos, journalism.

I hope I can share with you an enthuthiasm to travel and to discover other cultures that for me today is gained simply by breathing the fresh, spring air of Rosario, Argentina every time I take a step outside of my front door, and say good morning with the customary beso on the cheek.

This can be a reality for you to.

- - - - -
Have any of you traveled to a place before that has been culturally different from your own in a remarkable way?

You don't necessarily have to go to another country to run into new customs.

How were these customs and values different then your own, and how do you imagine that the people who held them saw yours?

Were the greetings different?

Would you do it again?


For now, Chau.
Hasta Luego.
Te hablo pronto,

con amor y excitement,
Philip "El Torro" Muir