Second Block Edition: Tales from Miami Ad School Account Planning Bootcamp. Location: Minneapolis, MN.


gluttony for dinner in a sin city

The weather is getting warmer, therefore any excuse to prepare an asado is made. I love the Argentine asado. Last night was no different, except for the fact that it was finally nice enough to eat on the terrace. I had just come from work, so I didn't have my camera, pitty! The key to an asado is to designate the cooking to one person. In our case it was Gustavo, because he's the parilla master, so the rest of us sit back toss around the soccer ball, listen to music and drink beer. Then commences the eating: sausage, beef ribs, chicken, steak, more sausage, salad, potato salad (but not smothered in mayo like in the Sates) and bread. I suppose there was a grilled pepper in there somewhere, but I was more concerned with the delicious array of meats. I'm too poor to afford meat much anymore, so this was a nice change from my beans and rice diet.

Last weekend I was invited to a concert with a friend and before I start this story I have to explain my hesitations about live music in Buenos Aires. Normally 'live band' here means one of two things: Cumbia/Reggaeton or Tango; neither of which I particularly care for. Much to my surprise upon arriving at the concert the music was wonderful. It was a 8 or 9 piece band made up a cello, flute, bass, violin, keys, drums, accordion and various other music makers. Impressed, I was. Then it was followed by one of my very first conversations in Spanish. I held my own quite well, I was very excited. The first few moments are the worst, and usually incomprehensible, but then after that, it's not smooth sailing, but let's just say I'm no longer a ship wreck. It's a good feeling.

Tonight I start my dance classes. I'm nervous, but I'm not as nervous going into things that I used to be when I first arrived. I could hardly stand in line at the bank without the fear of having a panic attack. Most of these anxieties stem from the fact that every time someone goes to speak to me it's gamble for understanding. At first my normal reaction to not understanding was simple: deer in headlights. Nothing. I tried responding with "Sí" for a while, but people caught on fast that I really had no idea what they were talking about. Apparently not everything in this world can be replying with simple 'yes' or 'no' answer. Politicians have gotten away with it for years, why can't I?

After three months here I have made a wide stride in progress; in my Spanish, in myself, in my happiness, and in finding work. Some days it's hard to put it all in perspective and be proud of myself, rather it's easier to focus on all the things I still want to do or have yet to set goals for.

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