Semester Abroad: South America

Spring 2016

I've always joked that I come back more heartless from each trip because I leave a piece of my heart everywhere I go. Oh boy, is that true for my semester abroad in Argentina. I originally wanted to study there for a couple of reasons: (1) I had studied Spanish for so long that it was probably time to really test it out; and (2) Visiting South America was on my list to explore all seven continents.

After solidifying my plans through the exchange program and my own undergrad (the University of South Carolina), I remember receiving a random message from another American girl doing the program seeking to organize a living arrangements. That girl was Emma, from Palo Alto, California, and it was Emma's doing that set me up for one of the best, most rewarding aspects of this study abroad experience: living in a three-story loft in the coolest neighborhood in Buenos Airs for the four+ months we lived there.

The other roommates were Jackie (from Chicago), Brielle (from Connecticut, and a fellow Gamecock), and Rebecca (from New York). We also adored our honorary sixth roommate, Kelli (of Washington State), who often stayed on our couch since she lived with a host family and was respectful of the family's quiet hours.

I'll never forget our adorable "home." It had a red door off Uriarte Street in Palermo Soho, a fun, hip neighborhood of Buenos Aires' Palermo District. We lived directly next door to a market where we purchased bottles of red wine, cheese, and fruit nearly every day. Palermo Soho had a cool weekend market, tons of bars, restaurants, shops, and cobblestone streets, all of which made it simultaneously charming and buzzing. It was our little piece of paradise. I ended up joining a gym while I was there and would walk to the studio from our apartment for spin classes a few times each week.

Another memory imprinted on my brain is the learning curve we had to navigate the bus and public transportation systems. Once we eventually got it down, we explored all over the city, with its many tourist attractions, local gems, and daytime population of 12 million people. And although we adored our Red Line 39 bus to and from school and Buenos Aires' City Center, it wasn't always kind to us. Sometimes it was late in the pouring rain. Other times it was packed to the brim with people commuting to school or work and we'd stand, gripping the railings as it bumped along the narrow, trafficky streets.

One time, a man snatched Jackie's phone from her hands as the bus doors opened, ran off the bus, and disappeared around the block. We all watched in horror as Jackie felt so scared and confused about what to do next; the other people on the bus apologized profusely, but it's safe to say we were pretty shaken up after that incident.

Our exchange program, which occupied one floor of a municipal building, was located in the downtown area known as City Center where Recoleta (the main residential neighborhood of the city) and all the main monuments and landmarks are, including the Obelisco, a pencil-like structure commemorating Argentina's founding.

As for the exchange program itself, I loved my classes, adored my professors, and especially appreciated the field trips we took to local art museums, business centers, and financial districts, tying in what we were learning in the classroom about Latin American economic frameworks and real-world examples. I remember that, on one such occasion, my professor cancelled class last minute, informing us that she'd unexpectedly lost her father. We had only known her about a month by that point, but she'd had such a profound impact on us already that we quickly rallied to sign a card and prepare a goodie basket for her from our class.

When we first arrived to Buenos Aires, our program took us on a bus tour of the city, where we were able to see La Boca neighborhood meaning "the mouth" (of the river). La Boca is rich is culture, with bright, boldly-colored buildings serving as the backdrop for people performing tango in the streets, artists painting colorful portraits and landscapes, and local vendors offering fresh-squeezed juices.

On the bus tour and many times after, we also saw La Casa Rosa (the Pink House) where the President of Argentina lives, situated at the Plaza de Mazo. On that tour, we ventured around La Puente de la Mujer (Women's Bridge) which is an architectural work of art visible from the port of Buenos Aires. Also at the port lies an ecological reserve that separates La Plata (the river separating Uruguay and Argentina) from the skyscrapers and reflective, teal buildings of Buenos Aires' main financial district.

With our program, we also took a variety of out-of-town field trips, including one such weekend trip out to the wineries of Mendoza, a small city in Western Argentina that sits at the foothills of the Andes (the largest mountain range in South America), known for its Malbec and gorgeous views. As a group of college-age tourists, we had as much fun as you'd expect. We sipped the world-famous red wines, rode horses through the sprawling hills of the Andes, and hiked towards Aconcagua (since the highest mountain of the range certainly demands a multi-day trek in order to summit). We picnicked together with all of our classmates and program support staff in soft grass at the foothills of the vineyards as we learned about the area's rich variety of indigenous populations.

After that trip, time moved quickly, seemingly because we kept having a lot of fun. My roommates and I plus some friends from the program quickly organized a weekend trip to Montevideo/Punta del Este, Uruguay for the world-famous Carnaval festival. We ferried across La Plata from Buenos Aires to Montevideo, roamed around Montevideo (the Uruguayan capital city) for a day, then boarded a huge, wobbly double decker bus to a place called Punta del Este (an easterly beach town of Uruguay that sits on cliffs that drop into the Atlantic Ocean).

The bus dropped us off at a dirt road intersection in the warm summer heat, and we had no clue where to go. With no cell service, and limited brain power due to sleep deprivation, we wandered around until eventually finding our adorable little hut we reserved on Airbnb. Our group of 12 quickly took it over this adorable little hut, which was probably best suited to sleep six, but we made it work by doubling-up and hanging hammocks.

Knowing only what we could gather from Google about Carnaval, we were somewhat thrown off when locals and other South American tourists started bombarding us with water guns and soapy blasts as we roamed the streets of Punta del Este. When we expressed our apprehension to a waitress that the locals didn't seem to want us there, however, she enlightened us that the opposite was true: for the week-long festival, people dress up in costumes, drink/party in the streets, and engage in water-gun fights. So they weren't rejecting us, they were in fact welcoming us into the festivities.

After the initial confusion, this weekend easily became one of my fondest travel memories. All of us American students, from every corner of our own country, with limited familiarity with one another, jumped into the Carnaval festivities head-first... We hit the beach, the bars, the cafes, and the streets, armed with our newly-purchased water guns and foam sprays. We even equipped ourselves with buckets of water for extra special targeting of other party people.

Once back in Buenos Aires and in the routine of classes, dinners, full-on immersion, I was lucky enough to have some visitors. Over my spring break, my grandma and mom joined me in the city and we hit all of Buenos Aires' touristy gems, including the world-famous cemetery in Recoleta with tombs as large as the hut we stayed in for Carnaval. Eva Peron is among the many famous (or infamous) persons to be buried there. We also went to Fuerza Brute, which is one of the most bizarre yet coolest shows I've ever experienced. Fuerza Brute is basically interactive cirque du soleil, and of course, my grandma easily became a fun and engaging target for the performers, who requested her assistance with certain acts as the crowd of mostly 20-somethings cheered her on and applauded wildly.

On one of the days of their visit, we drove about an hour west of Buenos Aires to a town called Lujan in search of Lujan Zoo, which was located so much in the middle of nowhere that it took us an extra two hours and four stops to ask pedestrians for directions to find the zoo's entrance. Now, this was one of the craziest, most unique, and probably stupidest things I've ever done, and I genuinely do not recommend. This "zoo" let us inside the enclosures with lions, tigers, and bears (literally).

In the moment, I was having the time of my life, and felt so lucky to interact with all these animals -feeding them, cuddling them, and loving on them. But after my excitement and anxiousness settled, I realized just how horrible of a situation those animals were in. For that to even be remotely safe, the animals must've been heavily sedated, and likely somewhat malnourished to cause lethargy and lack of mental stimulation. So, yes, it made for some pretty insane pictures holding lion cubs, feeding camels, and crouching behind tigers, but was it worth it? Not at the animals' expense.

And just like that, Grandma was set to return to American while my mom and I ventured south to Ushuaia, Patagonia, accurately dubbed "El Fin del Mundo" (End of the World). Patagonia is one of the most strikingly beautiful places I've ever seen with my own eyes.

A favorite memory includes the day that mom and I were scheduled for a hike up towards a glacier, along waterfalls, pastures, and creeks. I didn't have a warm enough coat so mom treated me to a nice, down feather one from one of the shops in town. The day of the hike two days later was ironically the second-hottest day all year and we ended up in tank tops by the end of the trek. We laughed that of course the time I was prepared for freezing temps was the day the sun decided to shine brightly and boldly on that mountain.

Patagonia is such an amazingly unique place for reasons beyond its natural beauty, too. For example, we secured a taxi driver who took us all around the main national park of Ushuaia one day, and waited for us as we explored the many glaciers, lakes, waterfalls, and undisturbed greenery at each stop. We even encountered penguins along one of the pebble-clad beaches, and our sweet taxi driver sometimes joined us as our cameraman... we were truly humbled by the gorgeous views and exceptional service!

The other days and nights of our trip to Patagonia were marked by making friends at a local pub that was roughly 10x10 square feet, enjoying the breathtaking views from our hotel overlooking the ocean, and exploring the homemade crafts of the boutiques, shops, and vendors in Ushuaia's quaint downtown area. But, we blinked, and it was time for Mom to return to the States, and for me to resume classes after my week off for spring break.

I was lucky enough to have another visitor the following month, though. My friend from home, Sam, came to Argentina for a long weekend, venturing around the city taking pictures, capturing the hustle and bustle of the nightlife, all while I had classes throughout his visit. During his time there, nonetheless, we managed to visit both the Japanese and Botanical Gardens, MALBA Museum, and some of the many beautiful plazas/statues scattered around the city. We had the coolest time while he was visiting, and showed him the wild club scene of Buenos Aires, in all its up-til-sunrise, pounding EDM glory.

Throughout the semester, my friends and I were living it up every day, every moment. We played soccer once a week at a nearby field with local friends, went boating one weekend and lounged at this mansion with the sweetest local girls, visited the amusement park, explored Chinatown, and went to a variety of performances, including tango shows. We took weekend trips to nearby beach towns, partied 'til the sunrise every weekend, and attended asados, world-famous Argentine 'barbecues,' whenever invited. During the school weeks, we cuddled up on our tiny sofa watching movies together, sipped wine and chowed on gnocchi, and spent a lot of time trading clothes, stories, and laughs.

One weekend, we attended the Lollapalooza music festival in San Isidro, an hour north of Buenos Aires. We even dined in the same speakeasy as the bands Mumford and Sons and Of Monsters and Men a couple nights before the festival began since they and many other artists were in town for the festivities, and I actually ended up taking some of the band members (many of whom were British) to an Irish bar to celebrate St. Patrick's Day that weekend!

For the festival, we dressed up in ridiculous outfits and donned braided hairstyles the way people do in the US only to realize that we stuck out like sore thumbs at this one because all the Argentinians and other South Americans were wearing totally normal concert-goer attire; after the initial embarassment and giggles, we partied and danced and laughed and ran all over the acres-big festival, catching performances by all of our favorite artists including Florence and the Machine, Skrillex, and Deadmaus.

Funny enough, we also saw Lauryn Hill in concert one weekend in downtown Buenos Aires, so a large group of us from the program went to the show and enjoyed an evening of food trucks and R&B. During another weekend, some of us took a trip to Iguazu Falls, an enormous waterfall that straddles the borders of Argentina, Paraguay, and Brazil. My roommates and I stayed in the most chill little Airbnb in town with a straw roof and pool, and went to the Argentine side of the falls one day, where we spent the day exploring the misty trails, stunning views, and expansive falls; we were even able to raft right up to the major waterfall, reveling in the beauty of the crashing water and rainbows.

During the other day of our visit, we planned to enter Brazil and explore the Brazilian side the park, which led to a situation that I can finally laugh about, but that was not funny at the time. This wasn't initially on our radar, but the workers at our Airbnb recommended we do it, and they even coordinated the taxi driver for our border crossing and day at the falls.

Some context: Argentina and Brazil each require entry visas, and since I didn't have official plans to go to Brazil, I never acquired one for Brazil. The Airbnb staff and our taxi driver, of course, assured us this wasn't a problem. So we left Argentina by taxi and crossed into Brazil just fine... driving just a couple of miles before being dropped off at the park entrance. We enjoyed the park's many overlooks (more panoramic, less up-close views than the Argentine side), and reveled in the breathtaking beauty and enormity of the falls.

When we hopped back in our taxi and attempted to re-enter Argentina, however, we were stopped by three Brazilian border control officers donning weapons and serious faces. Because I, and one of the other girls in our taxi lacked official visas, they demanded that I come inside the small administrative building situated right there at the border crossing and speak with them privately...or else pay an exorbitant fee to re-enter Argentina. Our whole vehicle became confused, irritated, and eventually scared enough that we pooled the cash we had and handed over a wad to the border patrol officers towering over our car window. After scrounging together the money and handing it over, our taxi driver sped off as quickly as possible, and we all rode in silence, imagining how differently the whole situation could've played out.

Towards the end of the semester, we also went to Colonia del Sacramento, Uruguay with our program, a place rich in history and small-town quaintness, and enjoyed a weekend there exploring the local culture. The ferry from Colonia del Sacramento to Buenos Aires was delayed many hours though, and I have flashbacks to that travel day being nightmarishly hot and stuffy as hundreds of tourists crammed into a small, open-air room demanding updates and discounts.

Some friends and I also made a weekend trip to Santiago/Valparaiso, Chile to visit a friend of theirs. This weekend sticks out to me as one of my favorites from the semester abroad, because I absolutely loved Chile, including all the cool sights in Santiago and the many beautiful memories from Valparaiso, a small, beach town on the coast about an hour from Santiago. It's a quaint place, overflowing with vibrant murals, blooming flowers, and smiling locals.

We had the most incredible time there that weekend, including our walks along the beach spotting sea lions and pelicans, and were so thankful for the friends who hosted us. They took us surfing in a rain storm one day, let me drive the teeny tiny manual hatchback through the narrow streets, and hosted a brunch for us one morning at the apartment.

As the end of the semester drew near, some of my roommates and I took one last weekend trip to Mar del Plata, a fairly quiet beach town to the south of Buenos Aires. This trip was the most emotional for us, as we reflected on the semester we so thoroughly enjoyed and promised to stay in touch as we headed back to our "normal lives."

We laughed until we cried thinking back to all the questionable decisions we made that had led to such fond memories; we dissected all the fascinating perspectives we'd heard from Argentine taxi drivers and professors alike regarding geopolitics and recent social issues; and we really just squeezed each other in naive denial that when we returned to our families, friends, and hometowns, we would never forget our semester abroad and the friends we'd made exploring the world.

All in all, I left South America with 15 credits, a dozen new friends, countless memories, and almost zero dollars. But it was worth every penny to learn from fascinating professors, visit art and history museums, venture to far-off places, practice Spanish with anyone in ear-shot, and discover myself as a 20-year-old student pushing the boundaries of her comfort zone. During my 4.5 months living in Buenos Aires, I visited many parts of Argentina, Uruguay twice, Chile once, and Brazil once (perhaps unlawfully), and explored capital cities, beach towns, mountainside villages, wineries, tourist destinations, and so much more.

In the years following our semester abroad, various factions of our cohort would run into each other - in LA or NYC or in shared college towns; I was lucky enough to stay particularly close with two of my roommates, with whom I've since visited Las Vegas, Park City, Chicago, Seattle, and Mexico, and whose wedding festivities I happily attended, in all their joyful nostalgia about having originally connected during a once-in-a-lifetime experience studying abroad.

Gallery

To Do or Not To Do?

If my answer to this wasn't already clear enough: Yes, a million times yes. I had one of the most incredible and transformative experiences during my time exploring the southern parts of South America, and would recommend that anyone interested in doing so immerse themselves in the beautiful cultures of Argentina or Chile orUruguay or Brazil. But pro tip: secure a *legit* Brazil visa. And be sure to build in enough time that you can really experience the local cultures.

Final note: if you love dogs even a tenth as much as I do, then this is the place for you, too. We spotted dog-walkers sometimes handling 15 pups, all connected to the walker as a dog-leash straightjacket of sorts... It was hysterical and one of the random, but fond memories I cherish from this truly special voyage abroad.

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