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Yea, being an exchange student is kinda like being a ringbearer... here i go with a cheesy lord of the rings analogy, forgive me.... but its true... to be an exchange student is to be alone... and the only other people who understand you are the other exchange students, but they're off on their own adventures of self discovery, and although you may meet somewhere in the middle, it's simply a crossing of paths, and they will not accompany you for the entire year.
But that's just it... it's a year. ONE year.... out of an entire lifetime. And seeing as how no one really knows how long a liftime could be, and you might just die tomorrow, it's really a waste of time to be sad about being alone because that might lead to wandering around the house aimlessly, opening the fridge and cupboards just to look into them for 10 minutes and closing them again just to return in 10 minutes to do it again... or reorganizing the closet even though you just did it yesterday... or moping... and what is the point of being in a foreign country if you wander around the house aimlessly like that or mope...
And then at the end of the exchange you look back and think, wow, what did I do here that I couldn't have done in my own country.
I dunno. Maybe if I could stay in my country till June I would spend more time pondering the meanings of life and paying attention to the not-so-happy things... Maybe I'm just thinking like this because i only have 2 months left in place of 4 and a half. Either way I've still figured out that sometimes you just have to get up and go out and do something for yourself in order to get anywhere. I mean, it's been 6 months and I haven't met ONE other inbound exchange student. I haven't been on ONE rotary trip. Not to mention the rotary hasn't paid me one centavo of my stipend... and for this, I send myself on trips... for example, I went on a very contraband trip to Bariloche with my friends from school and had a blast.... and rotary can shove it if they don't like it.
I dunno... i guess what I'm trying to say is that some people seem too unhappy with their exchanges... and it seems that they've been getting more out if it than I've been getting out of mine but are still not looking at it as it should be looked at maybe... I'm not perfect, and my exchange is FAR from it, but it's still manageable to find its overall goodness. I guess I just don't understand why other people think it's a lot of misery. It's something we chose. We wanted it. And look, we're the LUCKY few who got it.
Anyway... I really want to tell a good story about my life here in Argentina... and even though this one is pretty bad, it's kinda funny.
So here in Argentina, life is fun.... almost nothing more. Right so there are some boring times, but when the weekend comes, LOOK OUT! So here's how it is; most Fridays there is a bailable (dance) in some pueblo around here, if not here in the wonderful pueblo of Melo. And then on Saturdays there exist 3 clubs. Hache in Laboulaye, XCaret in Jovita, and another one in Serrano that I've never been to.
The fact is that when I started clubbing, we always went to Hache because it was the ONLY one. I LOVED IT. But then one day XCaret opened and I went and loved it even more. So I continued going to the two of them, always wanting to go to XCaret, and then one day I went to Bariloche. My DOOM.
See in Bariloche, we went to clubs not just on the weekend but EVERY NIGHT! And the clubs were SPECTACULAR. And the fact that it was Bariloche and NO ONE knew me made it even better. I remember the second night I did a fondo blanco, which I honestly don't remember if there is a word for it in English, but it's where you drink an alcoholic beverage continuously until it's either finished or someone tells you to stop. I did that. With Fernet con Coca. Espectacular. Then I drank some other wonderful alcohol, and I was happily on my way to ditz land. So I went off by myself to dar una vuelta in the club... what the heck. It was also a costume party so everyone was dressed up... So I was on the dance floor strolling along to the beat of the music, and this nun stopped me and asked me to dance. We started chatting, and then well... the inevitable happened when you have drunken teenagers dancing in a club in Bariloche dressed up as a nun and a clown. And then he asked me where I was from... California, Estados Unidos. And he was the most happy person in the world. Oh my god I kissed a foreigner!!! I kissed an estadounidense, oh my god.
And then there's me, unimpressed by the fact that oh my god I kissed an Argentino, because he's like the 4th one and yeah... So what was I talking about? OH... the clubs.... yeah that.
So Bariloche was my doom because the clubs were all spectacular and no one knew me and I loved it because I could do such things as the above... (and after I made out with the nun I made out with 2 maids) (no, not at the same time), and I danced every night... and I LOVE dancing.
And so when I got back to Melo, I was super-bummed. And Hache would never work again. Never. So where did I go the Saturday after my return from Bariloche!? HACHE. La puta que lo parió. And I had a HORRIBLE time. And said I was NEVER going back...
And so that was how I spent the weekend of my birthday... bored off my ass in Hache, bothered by all the damned nasty ass old guys, verdes. Hache reeks of verdes. And in Barilo, there are like NONE. Hate verdes. They seem to get the idea that just because I'm not the most attractive person that I'm the one with the least self respect and most lonliness. They can go fuck themselves, and I'm sure that's what they do when they find that they can't get some younger girl to do it for them due to the fact that they're old wrinkly ugly bastards.
Anyway, god, the tangents... So, thank god, the 14th of January I went to Jovita!!!!! WA HOOO!!! FIESTA DE LA ESPUMA! Or the party of foam. Espectacular. And then... the weekend after that what happened... Back in Hache. La puta madre.
So... I knew I was going to Hache, and I was bummed about it... like super bummed. So... before we left for the club, me and my best friend met up at her dad's ice cream shop. And I purchased a 15 ounce cup of Fernet con coca... Drank almost all of it by myself. Then some of our friends came and they brought more fernet. So I had more. Then we went to the bus terminal and I bought a can of beer... drank all of that, and the last half was fondo blanco because the bus came and I couldn't take it on the bus. I wasn't going to let it go to waste.
So we got to Laboulaye, and we went to the bar. I had 250 cubic centimeters of beer... Then we went to the club, and I bought 2 tickets for tequila shots... My absolute favorite.... I had ONE. Then me and my friends bought a huge drink to have between the 4 of us... and we went to dance and drink and be merry. I saw Chíchu. What a wierd guy. And I saw Juan Marcelo a bit later, after I had finished off the drink that the 4 of us had purchased. He had shaven of his beard, and he was very pretty. And I was quite drunk. And so was he. And we were all in good spirits due to the alcohol and lighting, and so I asked him to give me a pico. Which isn't really a kiss, it's like a peck. So he did! And I almost died. And then I went to get a small cup of Fernet con coca. And I took like 2 drinks of it and thought, this doesn't have enough fernet. So I asked the barmaid to put more fernet in it. She filled it back up. Then it was REALLY strong. FUERTE. And then I drank it all... quite quickly. Too quickly. So I was dancing, and Juan Marcelo came back over, and I don't remember if I asked him again, or if he just did it, but he kissed me again. Dios mío!
And then I had to go to the bathroom. So I went. When I came out of the bathroom, someone told me to sit down. So I sat down. And when I sat down I couldn't get back up again. I just kinda sat there I guess. I mean, I don't remember much of what happened while I was sitting there until some people came over and lifted me up by the armpits to drag me to another bench in another part of the club. And I vaguely remember them bringing me water. Afterward my friend said they gave me like 2 bottles of water, but I only remember having like 3 sips...
Anyway, I don't remember a whole lot of what was going on while I was sitting on the bench, nor who was around me, but some people lifted me up again but in place of holding me up, they let me fall on the floor. And fuck dude, I couldn't get up! My legs couldn't function... But I didn't know what the fuck was going on... And it seemed like I was on the floor for a long time. Then they lifted me back up on the bench... and I was there for a while... Then Silvina's brother and Jimena's brother lifted me up by the armpits again, and it seriously hurt, and they carried me out of the club to the street corner, and my friend Carla followed. Then the 2 Silvina's came. And then the History teacher...?
So then we all got into Silvina's brother's car, me, the 2 Silvina's, Carla, and the History teacher...? And we went to Melo. We stopped at a service station and I had to pee sooooo bad... and I was in the stall doing my business and someone kept opening the door. I didn't have the fucking wits to lock it. It was one of the Silvina's telling me she'd help me. I didn't need any fucking help. It took me like 5 minutes to zip my pants and button them, but I managed. Then when I opened the door the other Silvina came in and told me to vomit. I told her I didn't want to vomit. She told me to vomit. I told her I couldn't. Then she told me to stick my fingers down my throat. I didn't know how to say "I don't have a gag reflex" in spanish, so I showed her that it wouldn't work, and told her I couldn't and that I didn't feel like upchucking. She said fine.
Then we went out and sat on the curb, and the history teacher came out with a small plastic cup of coffee. Then Silvina brought a small plastic cup of coffee, told me to drink of it, and shoved it to my mouth. I took one sip and it was straight coffee, nasty, like shitwater, and so I told her no. She told me to drink it. I told her no. I told her I'd drink water. They brought me sprite. I took a drink. Disgusting. I didn't want to drink anything. So we got back into the car, and I started singing with the radio, even though I didn't know the words.
Then I started talking to the history teacher... I told him that he was going to get married to a wonderful woman and have 53 kids and I was the aunt, and that I knew the perfect woman for him and she was in love with him... and I wouldn't shut up. And I told him I was in love but that he wasn't in Melo right now because he was busy.
Don't remember much else of the car ride... Nor do I remember what songs I sang... but they let me, Carla, and the 2 Silvinas out at Carla's house, and then they brought me bread and water (the 2 best things after drinking too much) and so I ate some bread, commented on how good the bread was, and drank water from a pitcher, and managed to spill it all over myself. And it was fricken cold man... and they told me that I talked to the dog. I don't remember talking to the dog.
And then I walked to my house, as walking had been made manageable by the consumption of bread and water and the expulsion of what seemed like 4 cups of alcohol when I was in the service station, and I went in my room and thought, I need to rest for just one moment before I change and take off all my jewelry... So I lied down, thinking just for a moment, and I passed out.
3 hours later I woke up in the same position I had passed out in, and I got up to change. I was still rather drunk, and couldn't walk straight... I ran into the door jams and almost fell over when I was changing my pants... but I managed. Then I went to sleep until like 2PM, thank god my host dad is a bastard and prefers not to have lunch with me. So I ate a bit of rice and bread, and drank a TON of tang and then I went back to bed... And when I got up again I felt like crap and thought oh shit, what have I done?
Besides all that I felt really crappy for like 2 days and even to LOOK at an alcoholic beverage made me nauseaus. Conclusion, I don't drink anymore. Beer, maybe if I feel like it, but beer doesn't do anything to me. And it really sucks because if you recall, I bought 2 tickets for 2 tequila shots and only used one... And I still have the other one. And now, even if I wanted to drink tequila I couldn't (well I could but...) because I got my tongue pierced and strong alcohol, well, it burns. Put alcohol on a cut and it will burn you.
So there you have it. A long story to get to the drunken part but all in due time I've gone from crazy to angel. Ha ha haha ha.
Downside to tongue piercing... they said I couldn't kiss for 2 months.... yeah fucking right dude... like I can live by that rule.
Well that is all for now.... | 
