Work hard, play hard.
Doing my usual, just a bit to the south.
Research—it’s happening!
Friends, I promised a post that includes a bit about my research, so to kick it off, here is one minute of ambient cow mooing for your listening pleasure.
Let’s just start with the fact that my expectations for my research here were low. I proposed a fairly ambitious project and had no idea whether or not I’d be able to pull it off. I still don’t know if it will amount to anything, but I am pleased to report that it’s going SO MUCH better than expected.
So here it is: My idea here is to go live in three different provinces and report and write a series of three articles on what local communities are doing about wildfire prevention.
I have been so pleasantly surprised by the reception I have gotten as a journalist here, how open people are to talking about the struggles they’ve faced with wildfires, and how LONG their answers are to my interview questions! In the States, I am often having to repeat questions or basically pull teeth to get anyone to talk to me, but that hasn’t been the case as much here, which I am proud to say has resulted in a grand total of 20 interviews already!
That may not sound like much for nearly three months of work (and it’s not, do you see how much vacation I am taking?) but when I consider that I am doing all of this in Spanish while adapting to a new culture, I am pretty proud.
I put in my Fulbright proposal that I would be using the “snowball sampling” method for my sourcing, which, to be honest, is a term I stole off the internet at the time, but it actually perfectly captures how I have been able to connect with sources here. Basically, for every one person I meet, they introduce me to one or two others, and my network has quickly multiplied.
But beyond the basic sources, I knew the big struggle would be to find a personal story from each area to really understand what was going on. I got super lucky here in Córdoba, where I was connected to Monica, an agricultural engineer and farmer from a rural area that was devastated by the 2020 wildfires. After a two-hour bus ride to Villa de Soto, the main town in the Cruz del Eje region, she took me in her truck an hour’s drive down a gravel road to get an idea of the landscape and to meet with the residents and ranchers who lost their land and livelihoods in the fire.
I also had the chance to visit a 17th-century UNESCO World Heritage Site and talk to the docent there, who lives on the property and watched as the fire passed just 20 meters behind the historic church.
It has been powerful meeting people who have experienced the same (and different) things as the communities that I cover and call home, especially as news of wildfire smoke blanketing the East Coast has reached my social media feeds. It’s not quite fire season yet here, but I am anxious to find out how it will affect life this year.
This coming weekend I am heading back out to the field to interview some more farmers and to visit an agriculture school to interview students, which is super exciting! Obviously, the annoying self-doubting voice in my brain does sometimes creep in and make me feel like I am not doing enough here or that I am falling behind, but I try to ignore that as best as I can!
Flatball is (still) life.
Frisbee never stops, even a world away! I had the absolute privilege to attend an ultimate frisbee tournament this month in Santa Fe with a few members of Córdoba’s team, who joined fragments of two other teams (including one very good team) to form a decently formidable group, aptly named Peor es Nada after we took second place at the tournament. I got to trade my Georgetown pinnie for a jersey from one of my teammates, and I think I may have even been invited to Nationals in October!
The whole time I was there, I couldn’t stop laughing at all the frisbee things that simply defy borders and cultures and the others that were so new and funny to me, so I have listed some of them below.
We took an overnight bus to get to Juli’s, who had generously offered to host us for the weekend, and the scene we walked into the following morning was what can only be described as a frisbee house. It was full of random people from all parts of the country and world with gear and food everywhere and people crashing on couches and the floor—a beautiful, familiar sight!
English is the default frisbee language, so a lot of the words were the same, but I had a ton of fun learning the Spanish versions, like manejar for handle and fondo for backfield. And I even successfully resolved a contested drop call in Spanish! I did, however, revert to English when stall counting because I kept fast counting in Spanish. And after hearing everyone else do it all weekend, I eventually unironically shouted dale! on the sidelines as if I were Pitbull.
Similar to my previous post about backpacking Argentinisms, I still find it hilarious that mate, the green tea that everyone drinks all day here, never stops—even at a frisbee tournament!
I think I unlocked a new tournament secret, which is empanadas. They are the perfect sideline snack, packed full of protein and carbs to keep you going all day long! And these fried ones were divine.
Because we were playing by World Flying Disc Federation (yes, that is really what it’s called) rules, after each game, each team would discuss and rate the other’s spirit, and then we’d have a big group spirit circle to discuss. That was a new experience for me, and I kind of loved the honesty that everyone brought to it, unafraid to call out others for their mistakes in an effort for everyone to improve their spirit and understanding of the rules in the future. We also high-fived everyone before and after each game, which was precious.
Some shots from the weekend in Santa Fe!
Frolicking with the fam.
And of course, the biggest joy of my month was an incredible visit from Michaela and Noah, my sister and brother-in-law, to whom I got to show off my Spanish skills and (still shaky) knowledge of Argentina’s history, politics and economy, plus find new adventures as we explored the region!
Some highlights include the funicular and gondola in Santiago de Chile, wine and olive oil tasting in Mendoza and some truly tasty meals, cool museums and gorgeous walking tours in Buenos Aires.
I also got to have truly spicy food for the first time since getting here, which was much needed for my taste buds and soul. I am so grateful for all the family and friends who are visiting and am eagerly awaiting my mom’s visit in a week!
Also, honorable mention in the family section goes to the “families” who have adopted me these last few months. An Argentine tradition is to have a big full-day barbecue, called an asado during holiday weekends or on Sundays, and I have been so lucky to have been invited to a few asados and welcomed as if I am part of the family! What’s funny about them, is you never really know how long they will last or if you’ll accidentally end up staying the night, so I have started packing my phone charger and some deodorant for the trip!
Relearning how to do life.
Let’s kick off the introspective section with some boygenius, because they’re having a moment, and so am I.
Flipping through my journal to try to find an excerpt for this blog post was honestly hilarious, because you can really tell when I am having a good day versus a tough day—it’s either a whole lot of excitement or a whole lot of angst. I don’t feel like any of my entries really reflect the whole story of how I am doing here three months in, since every day is so different. For example, today I woke up and went for a run with my roommate and had a super interesting interview and went to a gorgeous little cafe for a giant slice of cake and did some writing before coming home and lounging on my rooftop with a beer. It’s the good life, without a doubt, but that doesn’t cancel out the many days where I feel totally lost in what I am doing here, missing my friends and family, stressed about my research, frustrated by my Spanish, or hyper-fixated on something (usually food) that I miss about the U.S.
The only solution I have found so far is try to throw away the idea that I can create a life here that’s the same as it is at home—make peace with the fact that I will probably never find a real loaf of sourdough bread—and take it with all the good and the bad, realizing that it’s mostly good.
Speaking of food, as always, here are some takes of all the great things I have been eating.
