Iguazú Falls and Friends

There is a waterfall under the Petit Jean River Bridge just before Corinth Road in Danville. It's probably a good 2 feet of waterfall, and a sunset at the riverside is hard to beat. Plus, it has a good story: it's named after a woman who disguised herself as a man to come along with her French explorer husband in a time when women weren't encouraged to go exploring. That's a cool story.

Another neat story is of me and Jennifer meeting up for this photo! She was walking the same trail that I was on the same island at the same time, and she's a Fulbright Scholar working in Uruguay. We met in Brazil a couple of weeks ago and were not planning to meet in Iguazú, but it worked out. Ha! This will be among my quintessential South America pictures; that's right, Dad, this one is going on the travel picture wall!

Iguazú also has a cool story behind it, a couple, actually. According to LonelyPlanet: Argentina, my guidebook, "According to Guaraní tradition the falls originated when an Indian warrior named Caroba incurred the wrath of a forest god by escaping downriver in a canoe with a young girl, Naipur, with whom the god was infatuated. Enraged, the god caused the riverbed to collapse in front of the lovers, producing a line of precipitous falls over which Naipur fell and, at their base, turned into a rock. Caroba survived as a tree overlooking it.

"Geologists have a more prosaic explanation. The Río Iguazú course takes it over a basaltic plateau that ends abruptly just short of the confluence with the Paraná [River]. Where the lava flow stopped, thousands of cubic meters of water per second now plunge down as much as 80m into sedimentary terrain below. Before reaching the falls, the river divides into many channels with hidden reefs, rocks and islands separating the many visually distinctive cascades that together form the famous cataratas (waterfalls). In total, the falls stretch around for more than 2km."

Steven Skattebo came to visit me! He is my second Fayetteville friend to come see me in Argentina. He was sitting relaxed in the coffee shop downtown when I spotted him. He had been eating meat in the countryside for a few days and was very excited to stay with me because ordinarily he's a vegetarian, or at least a "beady-eyed vegetarian," meaning he only eats birds and fish.

ha!

So he gave a couple of presentations at my university then we headed northeast to the falls! Wow!

The first day was completely nublado, it was so cloudy we could hardly see, and the spray from the falls meant it was best to keep the camera in its case. But day two was fantastic.

In lieu of an aerial shot, here is a photo of an Iguazú model. ¡Qué lindo, che! And the next three photos are of my friend Steven and a friend we made on the way to Iguazú from Spain Juan Cardiel.

In this last one we'd just hiked up the island in the middle of all the falls, Isla San Martín, and were standing just in front of a couple of big ol' falls!

And below are a couple of pictures from Steven's presentation at Instituto Terciario San Fernando Rey, the place where I'm a'workin'.

Here he's judging a game (also known as a "communicative activity," as I learned), wherein two competing students draw something while the rest look on and guess what it is.

A winner is declared.

This is the lovely Chabela and her family. Chabela is the head of the English department at San Fernando Rey, and she is awesome: kind, organized, intelligent, and she made sure that I had some vegetarian food at the table.

Iguazú was certainly one of the coolest things I've seen. It got me thinking about a world of peace and social justice, specifically about sacred, ultra beautiful places like Iguazú. 'Seems like we--humans--should only go a couple of months out of the year and leave it to the animals and people that have lived there for a few thousand years the rest of the time. That goes for a lot of places, me'sa thinks. But let's move along through this, another stream of consciousness blog entry...

Jacob and Angela left for home! That's right, my new friends and neighbors, wrapped up their 11-ish months in Resistencia. They are among my first Lutheran friends.

Raquel and the Britoses had us all over for lunch before Jacob and Angela left.

Here we are celebrating a birthday party at the Britos'. It was my Argentine mother's birthday: Raquel. She's the one in the middle.

Jacob can make some mean pancakes, and they even had maple syrup! What!

Jacob, Angela, and I shared the same landlord, Señora Cuesta. And her daughter took us to her weekend getaway last weekend where we walked, played frisbee, and they ate a lot of asado, barbecue. In the picture above, Jacob, Angela, and their pastor and pastor's wife are all walking away. I like to take pictures of people walking away.


The señora and I rode in the back of the pastor's van on the way.

Homero, the dog, had torn his sweater (in my experience in Argentina, all dogs with families have sweaters) and the señora protested this picture saying that I ought to wait until his new one arrived. I didn't want to tell her that I was taking a picture of his old sweater simply because its tearing was the most exciting thing that had happened all week. ha! I really am happy here.

OK, a little more about Iguazú and we'll be ready to wrap things up.

There is a couple from Fiji in the beginning of the video; I happened to start a conversation with them on my way to Iguazú the first time and as it turned out we shared breakfast together a couple of days later. They were passing through Resistencia (where I live) and so once we got here I helped them book their bus tickets to Salta. The person with whom I'm talking is the Fulbrighter who by chance was walking along the same trail at the same time on San Martín Island. ¡Qué casualidad, che! What a coincidence, che!

On a related note, here are a couple of people walking away, Indian spiritual teachers known as swaminis.

It was because of my time at this ashram, or retreat center, that I have a connection with the Britos family here in Resistencia. All thanks to my teacher, Swami Dayananda. Here is a picture of us!

Pujya Swami Dayanandaji sent me to the Swami Vivekananda Yoga University (http://www.svyasa.org/) where I studied yoga and met a friend whose brother lived with the Britoses three years ago. Swami Dayananda Saraswati, as he is also known, taught me one of the most important things yet. That is, "Life seems burdensome because we only know how to relax in between action and life is mostly action. The trick is to discover relaxation during action. Then one is really free..."

Here is the final picture for this entry. It is of the "Tea with Stephen" group.

We read poetry and hung out. What a great way to share Saturday afternoon! It was some dozen or so English professors and me, and we had a blast.

Dancing and the Sand

There are people who have friends that aren't really great friends. Some people are fortunate enough to have one friend. I mean somebody with whom one is and feels safe, with whom one can be silly, learn, love and play. The selection committees responsible for choosing the 15 Argentine Fulbrights somehow managed to choose 15 such people. Each of us is kind, creative, and an unstoppable, flexible force of imagination...

Thanks to Tim for making this map so that we can see where all of the Argentine Fulbright ETAs are located.

We English Teaching Assistants (ETAs) met just briefly at the beginning of our time in Argentina, and on June 12 we all met again in Buenos Aires at the Fulbright Commission. The Commission sat and listened as each of us told about our experiences: some of us talked about living with wealthy chain smokers, others about eating peanut butter and jelly with their students (that's me!).

As you can see from the pictures above, the Fulbright English Teaching Assistantship Enhancement Seminar (facilitated by the Commission for Educational Exchange between the United States and Brazil, Fulbright Commission Brazil) took place in a beautiful place. The first two pictures are from our day on a Brazilian island, and the third is from our visit to the US Consulate in São Paulo.

The Seminar was perfect. Fulbright ETAs from Brazil, Uruguay, Chile and Argentina met up to exchange stories, ideas, to network, and to generally be energized. We had a video conference with the State Department folks in D.C., and one of them even flew down to join us. He danced with us.

We did a lot of work, and it was a lot of fun. My presentation (we each presented) was entitled, Crema de Maní, or peanut butter, and was mostly about the extra-curricular activities that my students and I have created here in Resistencia, Argentina.

These next two pictures are from our trip to dinner in Buenos Aires before we all headed to Brazil.

I finally got to meet a friend's daughter, Anna Newman of Fayetteville, Arkansas, and she got to meet Krishna, you may remember him from my first blog entry. We ate at the second best restaurant in Buenos Aires: 26 pesos for a vegetarian buffet. What!

Here is a picture of our group reunited, telling the Fulbright Commission and each other about our experiences.

In the hotels in Brazil, we visited until we could visit no more.

This would be a great cover for our band's album, though we don't have a band or an album. This was on our walk to dinner. Notice the ever present and vivid graffiti. Brazil has the best graffiti of any place I've been.

Eric, Jenny, Hallock and I befriended the waiter at a restaurant just down the street from our hotel.

Here are Jenny and I getting ready to fly after dinner.

Here I am on the beautiful Brazilian island's beach. To get to the beach nearest our hotel required a dream-like journey. Paige and I made the journey running through the night. We had to sprint down an ever-narrowing dirt path until in nigh total darkness we were slowed to a walk between an aged stone wall 6 feet tall on either side. We could hear the ocean and then see it at the end of this veritable tunnel, and it looked as though we would step from the walled path and fall right in. Paige and I were the first ones to the ocean. Once there some of us danced to ourselves, some of us sang, some of us visited quietly about our most sacred places in the world.
That, our first night on the beach, will remain one of my favorite memories for a while. Walking along the moist sand the indentation of our footprints would sparkle as phosphorescent algae reacted to our steps. They sparkled like stars in the sand, and I walked along the beach turned like an owl watching the sand stars behind me. I haven't felt such like a child since... I was a child.

Paige, Jenny, Tim, me, and two Fulbrighters from the Chile contingent, Lucy and Brad. We ran, climbed, frisbeed, and some of us even played Red Rover. They are brilliant.
And fun!
And we danced so much (elsewhere, not on the island)... samba, capoeira, as well as dances without names.
That was my first time dancing capoeria. What a blast. It's like interactive yoga put to great music.
(from Wikipedia: Capoeira is an Afro-Brazilian art form that combines elements of martial arts, games, music, and dance. It was created in Brazil by slaves brought from Africa, especially from present day Angola some time after the 16th century.)

Matt has a great sense of humor and can sing like nobody's business. He's of the Chilean contingent. Among other great tunes, we sang Dispatch's "The General, Barefoot Truth's "Changes in the Weather," and in the Gospel vein, "Precious Lord, Take My Hand," "People Get Ready," "In the Garden," and "How Great Thou Art."

We sang quite a bit, actually. And Mary Ellen there brought her guitar. (She's lived in Fayetteville! It felt so good to talk street names!)

After a day at the beach and before presentations got started...

OK, from here on out the pictures have to do with a presentation my high school students put on for me. It included local food (they made sure none of it had any meat) and local dance. After I ate and they performed, they tried to teach the French teaching assistant and me a little about folklórico, folk dancing.

Tell you what, these are some talented English students.



The above video is from my first day with the Fulbrighter's on March 15, 2009. It's fairly obvious that I'm exhausted in this video, but it's obvious in a really funny way.

One final thing, a summation of my last four July 4ths.

July 4, 2006. Cuernavaca, Mexico. The other Americans studying abroad went out all night. Fortunately, my roommate Chris was 26 and had passed his partying stage and so we went out only to make an appearance. I had what might have been my second alcoholic drink of all time, a bluish liquid with fire on top, and returned extra talkative to Silvia, my Mexican (host) Mom.
July 4, 2007. The Woods, Northwest Arkansas. Josh Culwell, Lydia Michaels, Ryan Denham and I arrived at the Rainbow Gathering the night before and (unbeknownst to us and as we would later discover) pitched our tent in poison ivy. On the 4th itself the first half of the day is passed in silence, no one utters a word and even motions are used sparingly. Silence flows until sometime in the afternoon when everyone gathers in a thousand-person circle and chants “OM.”
July 4, 2008. 25 kilometers from Coimbatore, India. The night before, a great Indian musician and teacher played a British melody which also serves as one of our patriotic tunes in the States (can you name that tune?). After his performance, Swami Dayananda declared that the next day would be one of meditation and of silence until he returned from a trip to Chennai. We didn't utter a word and even motions were used sparingly.
July 4, 2009. Resistencia, Chaco, Argentina. I resolved not to talk this morning and actually scared myself when I accidently broke the silence with song! Ha! I took a practice LSAT and began my personal statement for law school applications. Then some twelve or so English professors and I got together and read poetry.

Thank ya'll for keeping in touch with me via the blog. As my Dad would say, "Write me a letter when you learn to write!"

The Original Wailers and Me

When I was about 16 I really heard for the first time No Woman, No Cry (from Bob Marley and The Wailers’ Live! album) on a compilation CD that my Dad created. Then I read the biography, bought a couple of Marley CDs and then eventually hunted them all down and started growing my own dreadlocks and was the disc jokey for the Reggae Roadblock on KXUA 88.3, the University of Arkansas’ radio station. Well, I combed the dreads out with the help of my friends Jonathan and Grace and my sister Sarah (mostly Jonathan), and now I’m balancing between a love of hip-hop, folk, reggae, and spirituals.

Thanks to Bob Marley and the Wailers, a nascent and unacknowledged idea was given assurance, that of a world with social justice and peace, a world without borders, a world where we understand that our family and nation's well-being is not dependent on independence and competition, but that our own happiness and those we love most are best served by working in interdependence and cooperation with everyone in the world. Dad also introduced me to Alexei Panshin's "The New Celebrations," a collection of stories that according to Dad is about the human condition. So because of this and because of reggae I began to stir, to consider the possibilities of a mature world.

And about eight years later, on Tuesday, May 19th, 2009, thanks to my friend Rochelle (the first friend from home I've seen in Argentina!), I got to hang with Bob’s old group, The Original Wailers! Yippee!!



In the photo above you can see all but one of the current band members. To my left is Junior Marvin and to his left is Rochelle Bradshaw. In the video clip you can see everyone gettin' with it. We had sooo much fun, and the value of meeting and hanging with these unselfish and fun musicians... well, it meant a lot to me.

They played at Luna Park ( http://www.lunapark.com.ar/ )It is a major place in the microcentro of Buenos Aires. It’s also hosted a pope or two.

Here are Rochelle and me! Their schedule had been hectic and this was one of the few times she'd been able to sit down and have a meal.

I had arranged my work schedule to fulfill my hours, and then took a bus to Buenos Aires. Argentina is famous for its buses, and rightfully so; the super soft seat turns into a bed, literally, and a pillow and blanket are provided. The only drawback was an amusing one: I had to watch a string of mixed 80s music videos, and there was no way to turn off the plasma screen or the music. Ha!

Buenos Aires further enchanted me. I left on the night of the 15th from Resistencia and arrived the next morning in BA. I ate at Spring Restaurant, Bio Restaurant, and a great little French place, and visited my friend and Gurudev disciple Krishna. He founded this yoga/thai massage place: http://www.espaciothai.com/ He and I saw Star Trek together (Two thumbs way up!). I spent the days meandering around Palermo, which reminds me of Westminster in London, and I studied just a little on the side for you know what. (In case you don't, I'm referring to the Law School Admissions Test, aka the LSAT.)

And the leaves were falling and the air was chilly... it is fall in May! Which is totally strange. Seeing that previous to 2007 I spent 10 years marching in fall football games, I still feel like I should be suiting up and marching around whether it is to play Danville's fight song or the UA's.

While in Palermo, I stayed in the Palermo House Hostel and recorded a video for ya'll:



I'll eventually put a few more videos on youtube.com from The Original Wailers show as well as one from my favorite restaurant in the country, Spring Restaurante. It's oddly dramatic website is at http://springrestaurante.com.ar/

After having lunch (pictured above) at a really great French restaurant, I took care of some visa business for the Fulbright Conference trip to Sao Paolo, Brazil. In response to Bush's stiffer visa requirements, Brazil has made similarly bizarre demands of US citizens entering Brazil. They wanted a credit card statement, bank statements, and bla bla bla. But it all got taken care of, 'seems like.

After two nights in the Palermo House Hostel I moved to a hostel near Rochelle's hotel. We got to hang out the whole afternoon on Tuesday because the band didn't have to go to sound check. While we were hanging out, Annicia, a lovely mother of ten with perfect posture who also sings harmony, worked on Rochelle's hair... and Rochelle hooked me up with an All Access pass!! Thank you, Rochelle!!

And I took a picture of two exciting and important items (above): the All Access pass Rochelle got for me and my LonelyPlanet: Argentina tourist guidebook.

We all met in the lobby and rode the bus to the venue, hung out back stage, and then Rochelle, Annicia, Junior Marvin and I said a prayer and they all got to work. What a GREAT show. It was soooo much fun, and we visited back stage together before the encore... what a dream. And then Al Anderson played an awesome, soulful, beautiful solo for the first song of the encore. Loooooovveely.

So like I said... this show in Buenos Aires was VERY important to me because reggae was among the first things to share with me the idea of an international consciousness, an awareness that love for ones own backyard and immediate family is insufficient and even detrimental to that yard and that family. We are all called to love our whole planet, to “imagine it pretty and whole” to quote the poet from the last blog entry, and to work toward a planet of social justice and peace. Thank you, Reggae! !!

But I was in Buenos Aires for a few days before the show, and so I visited a few neat friends and neat places while I was there, including...

Katie and Kat! Fellow Fulbright ETA Scholars who made it to the show...

and who after the show met Rochelle and Annicia! Fulbright Scholars and harmony singers... totally sweet. Annicia made a huge impression on me; at least one band member was ailing and she cared for him, and she brought Rochelle some preventative medicine, and she is wise. Really tuned in, and wise. She's an inspiration. And like I said: perfect posture.

The Casa Rosada (The Pink House) was between me and the movie theater where Star Trek was playing, so I snapped a photo and kept trucking. It's like Argentina's version of our White House. It's the official seat of the executive branch, and when Evita famously greeted folks from its balcony, well, that would be one of those balconies to my right.

This is a picture of Puerto Madero (Port Lumber or Port Timber would be the direct translation... but madero can also mean oaf) I found on Google. It looked a lot like this on my walk to Star Trek except that it was drizzling.

There was a really fun band, La Todo Mal Orquestra ( The Totally Bad Orchestra, www.latodomalorquestra.com.ar ) in Plaza Palermo Viejo near my Indian restaurant and the yoga studio.

That's almost all for now, family, friends, and blog readers! I'd like to leave you with one more thing. The murder of Dr. George Tiller has me thinking about what is sustaining violence in our global society. Addressing violence at every level and responding non-violently, we will walk into a non-violent paradigm. But before then we might address what perhaps is the most prevalent form of violence: consumerism, buying things we don't need.

George W. Bush, perhaps the most terrible perpetrator of violence in recent history, had a three-
pronged violent response to the violence of 9/11. He had us invade Afghanistan, he had us invade Iraq, and when asked what the average American could do, he told us to go shopping. From the oil fields of Saudi Arabia from whence oil and thereby plastic can come, to the underpaid (and probably young and female) worker in China or Brazil or India or elsewhere making the junk, all the way to our homes, President Bush urged us to perpetuate this cycle of violence. For some, Bush's urging consumerism could be proof enough that it is a serious form of violence.

Bush's violent response correlates to the triumvirate of violence that was called out by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. in a speech against the Vietnam War: "I am disappointed with our failure to deal positively and forthrightly with the triple evils of racism, economic exploitation, and militarism." If we are serious about delivering to our offspring a world wherein they might live safely and healthfully, we have to stop buying things. The true cost to the Earth and to ourselves is too high.

And so, clear as day I see the common trajectory of the bullet that killed Dr. Tiller and consumerism's violence. Clear as day are the common trajectories of bullets and violence in Iraq and Afghanistan and Tibet and Sudan, and the unnecessary junk (plastic, cotton, wood, diamond and otherwise) that I too often purchase.

"Planned obsolescence" keeps coming to mind, too, the building of stuff so that it falls apart after a few years so that the consumer then buys new stuff. There's a great and sufficiently brief documentary that you might enjoy about such stuff at http://www.storyofstuff.com/

Until next time, if I can't eat it, I'm not gonna buy it! ha!

And here's some lyrics (¡las letras, en español!) to a couple of great anti-television-pro-creativity songs. The first is, "Turn off the TV" by Still on the Hill. I heard this song in the days of my playing trumpet in a hip-hop-reggae band called D. West and the Unknown Soljahs in Fayetteville. It inspired me to get rid of my television. The next song lyrics come from "Television, The Drug of the Nation" by The Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy.

Turn of the TV by Still on the Hill
(from their album Mouth Peace , you might like to check out my friends’ website at http://stillonthehill.com/ )

The expressions that we use
the values we choose
the shoes we wear on our feet
the kind of car we drive
how we live our life
‘learned it from the TV

we’re like a sheep bein’ led to the slaughter
like a horse that doesn’t know how to quit drinkin’ water
drawin’ like a moth to a flickerin’ light of a television set
everyday and night

oo turn off the tv
turn off the tv
turn off the tv if you want to be free (2x)

you picked up a Gucci bag
you noticed that the tag
was a’whoppin’ hundred and three
but you couldn’t put it down
it was the hippest one around
‘learned it from the TV

so you reached in your pocket
pulled out your credit card
even though that you knew it was gonna hit ya hard
drawing like a magnet to a shopping spree
you learned to consume watching TV

oo think for yourself
think for yourself
the TV’s controlled by the ones with the wealth

oo turn off the tv
turn off the tv
turn off the tv if you want to be free (2x)

well the men in the suits
on the 6 o’clock news
decide how we view the world
if the news of the day says war’s OK
just watch the flags unfurl
if we believe everything
on the television screen
we’re just puppets on the ends of a string

media head, media head,
don’t believe everything that the television said

try to think for yourself
think for yourself
the TV’s controlled by the ones with the wealth

soo turn off the tv
turn off the tv
turn off the tv if you want to be free
oo turn off the tv
turn off the tv
turn off the tv if you want to be free

At the end of the day
when you gather your pay
you feel you deserve a break
settle in your easy chair
pop a cold beer
make the world go away
but whatever happened to all of your dreams
did you park them in front of a television screen
trying to convince yourself all the while
that you’re not drowning in a sea of denial
o zombie woman, zombie man
do you want to keep living in zombie land

oo media head, media head,
don’t believe everything that the television said

try to think for yourself
think for yourself
the TV’s controlled by the ones with the wealth

soo turn off the tv
turn off the tv
turn off the tv if you want to be free


Television, The Drug of the Nation
by The Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy
(www.spearheadvibrations.com is the website of the Heroes' lead singer's current band)

one nation
under God
has turned into
one nation under the influence
of one drug

Television, the drug of the Nation
Breeding ignorance and feeding radiation (2x)

T.V., its
satellite links
our United States of Unconsciousness
Apathetic therapeutic and extremely addictive
The methadone metronome pumping out
150 channels 24 hours a day
you can flip through all of them
and still there's nothing worth watching
T.V. is the reason why less than 10 percent of our
Nation reads books daily
Why most people think Central America
means Kansas
Socialism means unamerican
and Apartheid is a new headache remedy
absorbed in its world it's so hard to find us
It shapes our minds the most
maybe the mother of our Nation
should remind us
that we're sitting too close to the...

Television, the drug of the Nation
Breeding ignorance and feeding radiation on
Television, the drug of the Nation
Breeding ignorance and feeding radiation

T.V. is
the stomping ground for political candidates
Where bears in the woods
are chased by Grecian Foremen and
bald eagles
T.V. is mechanized politics
remote controlled over the masses
co-sponsored by environmentally safe gases
watch for the PBS special
It's the perpetuation of the two party system
where image takes precedence over wisdom
Where sound bite politics are served to
the fast food culture
Where straight teeth in your mouth
are more important than the words
that come out of it
Race baiting is the way to get selected
Willie Horton or
Will he not get elected on...

Television, the drug of the Nation
Breeding ignorance and feeding radiation on
Television, the drug of the Nation
Breeding ignorance and feeding radiation

T.V., is it the reflector or the director?
Does it imitate us
or do we imitate it
because a child watches 1500 murders before he's
twelve-years-old and we wonder why we've created
a Jason generation that learns to laugh
rather than to abhor the horror
T.V. is the place where
armchair generals and quarterbacks can
experience first-hand
the excitement of warfare
as a theme song is sung in the background
Sugary sweet sitcoms
that leave us with a bad actor taste while
pop stars metamorphosize into soda pop stars
You saw the video
You heard the soundtrack
Well now go buy the soft drink
Well, the only cola that I support
would be a union C.O.L.A. -- Cost Of Living Allowance
On

Television, the drug of the Nation
Breeding ignorance and feeding radiation on
Television, the drug of the Nation
Breeding ignorance and feeding radiation

Back again, "New and improved"
We return to our irregularly programmed schedule
hidden cleverly between heavy breasted
beer and car commercials
CNNESPNABCBCBTNT but mostly B.S.
Where oxymoronic language like
"virtually spotless," "fresh frozen,"
"light yet filling," and "military intelligence"
have become standard
T.V. is the place where phrases are redefined
like "recession" to "necessary downturn"
"Crude oil" on a beach to "mousse"
"Civilian death" to "collateral damages"
and being killed by your own army
is now called "friendly fire"
T.V. is the place where the pursuit
of happiness has become the pursuit of
trivia
Where toothpaste and cars have become
sex objects
Where imagination is sucked out of children
by a cathode ray nipple
T.V. is the only wet nurse
that would create a cripple


Television, the drug of the Nation
Breeding ignorance and feeding radiation on
Television, the drug of the Nation
Breeding ignorance and feeding radiation (2x)

PS:

The new haircut! Much thanks to my friend Claudia's friend, a hairdresser who donated her work, time, shampoo, and water to the project.

This photo was an accident; I was trying to get a shot of my new do. But something about the composition is cool.

Here are a couple of gifts given me by a college student and a high school student, respectively. The latter is pretty funny and interesting because, firstly, they consider me blond. Ha! Secondly, the cow and it's representating dulce de leche, or sweet of milk, a popular desert. Then there's maiz, or corn, and then algodón, or cotton, and then soja, or soy. Argentina exports a whole lot of genetically modified soy to Europe for animal feed.

Here's my students! This is not all of them, but it is all of those that came out last Saturday to practice their English for fun.

OK, the next blog entry will feature the upcoming trip to Brazil, so check back in a couple of weeks!