Roofing and 'Septic Tank'

I've been slacking on the blog, but for good reasons. The net is slow here, and honestly, I haven't worked this hard physically before. I am happy to report that I have accomplished much this week, plus learned a ton.

First, on Tuesday and Wednesday, I helped nail in a wooden roof covering. We used the cement gridded walls to climb our way up to the wooden beams up top. Then for the next eight hours, we hammered away and nailed the roof together. I managed to catch some sun and a tan up there as well. It is tough work.

More challenging though, were the past two days. The new houses we are building all need their own waste disposal systems. That is where we volunteers come in - especially with all the sewage system experience someone like I have...

Anyway, so along with four others, I helped to dig a hole in the ground about 150 cm wide and 1.6 meters deep. My clothes, face and hands have been sloshing around in mud and water these past two days. On the way down, we hit the water table so were soon drenched. We shoveled and shoveled, but every ten minutes or so, the hole would fill with water. That is when the handy pump came into play. So it would alternate between shoveling and pumping.

But one big component of this whole operation was the bucketing and dumping. Two people would be at the bottom of the hole, filling buckets with mud. Two people at the top would be holding onto rope attached to these buckets, and pulling them up then dumping the brown gunk into piles. My lower back and upper back and shoulders are through right now.

Anyway, this weekend we go to some Estancia for R&R. I am looking forward to that.

As for tonight, we are going out to eat then out to explore the Santa Fe nightlife. David met some girls at dinner last night who told us the hot spots, so I guess we are headed there tonight!

I hope to upload pics tomorrow...

Santa Fe, Argentina

I am on the verge of peeing in my pants so I will keep this short.

1). I am now in Santa Fe, Argentina, approximately six hours northwest from Buenos Aires.

2). We completd Day 1 of our build in a 'shanty town' in Santa Fe where the monthly income for families is about 200 pesos, which converts to about $70 USD per month. People take odd jobs to make ends meet and to provide for their children.

3). #1 & 2 new additions to my resume: bricklayer and professional wheelbarrower. I went back and forth about 20 times moving bricks from one side of the street to the other. Furthermore, I laid bricks on top of each other.

4). #3 new addition to my resume: cement destroyer. I broke up big rocks into smaller rocks. I will even upload my hot, yellow hard hat plus fancy safety goggle-donned photos soon.

5). Most of the Habitat team members could be my parents or grandparents. All are extremely intelligent, interesting, and well-traveled people - having done all kinds of work. The ones I kick it more with are a Canadian girl a little older than I, plus a trio of Puerto Ricans who have funny Spanish and a wild sense of humor. But I have had a number of interesting conversations with a 78 year old man on his experiences in Mongolia to Bolivia, as well as learned from an M.I.T. Ph.D man of the intricacies of electric voltages and lighting.

6). Vino is starting to replace water...

7). i AM ABOUT TO BREAK INTO A SWEAT NOW AND NEED TO GO FIND EL BANO. WRITE MORE LATER. AND WILL UPLOAD PICS TOO. CHAU.

I feel violated...

Update: And I forgot to mention that it was not just the regular Latin greeting of meeting someone and kissing one on the cheek as a cultural thing. The guy's hand had started to gravitate to my pants pocket. Yes.

...I am usually on guard and very aware of people and things around me. But as I was walking to the market this afternoon, a 30-ish Argentinian man came up to me, out of nowhere, and kissed me on the cheek. I was like WTF but did not really say WTF because I do not know WTF in Spanish. The dude muttered something - probably perverted - proceeded to kiss my cheek and then walked off. Ma / Ba: you are probably reading this but don't worry, I am fine. I just thought it was shocking because it was in the middle of a pedestrian crosswalk with loads of people around.

Well, the Habitat peeps (of which I will describe in more detail later) and I are going to a Cinderella ballet tonight. I hope I don't fall asleep...because I took a nap at the last one I went to...

In Buenos Aires

Pollo, Humita, and Jamon y Queso empanadas
Originally uploaded by michellechang

I will have to keep this short because I am transferring to the Hotel Marbella in the Plaza de Mayo area to meet with the Habitat group. They are arriving some time this morning.

So by now, all three of you fellow blog readers of mine know that I am in Argentina. And all of you know that I like to run. This morning, I kicked myself out of bed to go for a run. Now let me tell you about it -- aside from the runner's high I got out of it while pumping techno beats in my ears.

First, I am Asian. There really aren't that many here in BA, though the Japan Gardens and Chinatown hold a higher concentration. But the fact is, as I walk around in my bright jackets, I get stared at. Probably because I dress horrendously compared to the Latin women, but also probably because I look like a tourist. Yesterday, I caved in and bought a decently trendy jacket at a local store. Even with that on, I got stared at.

Second, I am an Asian girl running through downtown BA. I think they just thought I was crazy. Apparently, the gym is the place to be - where women and men wear spandex to show off their hot bods to each other. I guess that is also the case to some degree in the states.

And third, I am an Asian girl running around in shorts. I felt naked, but these shorts were my 'longer' pair! These weren't those awfully short shorts that skinny old men-who-need-to-go-tan-their-pasty-white-legs-before-wearing-shorts wear. These were very appropriate, reasonably length shorts. Oh well.

Nevertheless, I got in an hour-long run around Recoleta. This is my problem with big cities; it is always a trek somewhere to find open space. But I really can't complain about the dozens of museums and monuments I passed along the paths. It is definitely a nice change of scenery from Cupertino. =)

My New Latin Lover

Tango on Florida St.
Originally uploaded by michellechang

She darts her eyes around the room - it is lit only by a disco ball. Dressed in a simple floral skirt and a tank top, she sits cross-legged, with black, strappy heels propped over her knee with sex and flair. Across the room, a gentleman who looks three times her age catches her gaze. She has no need to be anxious. The music starts and they walk slowly and seductively to each other. In seconds, they dance as if they have been in love for years.

No, this is not a scene out of a cheesy romantic comedy. This is a scene straight out of a local tango bar in Buenos Aires, Argentina. However, the lady oozing sex is not me. In time, perhaps, I can magically captivate a man by a single, slight glance; I just hope it doesn't have to be a man as old as my grandfather.

Yet, this is the beauty of this dance called the Tango. Each couple looks madly in love with each other. Eyes are closed, bosom is pressed against chest, and hands are clasped in an eternal, burning passion. Tango's prerequisite is passion. And a lot of it. And a white-haired, Argentinian man can even ask a 24-year old Chinese-American girl to tango -- even if she can't dance for her life.

The old, Argentinian man, later known to me as Alberto Dassieu, made his way to the dark corner we three girls made out hideout home. Apparently, it was not effective enough to guard us from intoxicated, old Latin men. He approached with a sly yet sweet smile. Out, he reached his arm, with wrinkled hand wide open. I wanted to run to the bathroom. The dance floor was not filled nor were there beginners here. This was the tango bar - for true tango dancers.

Without much choice (rejection means not letting the man have his fun and enjoyment -- that would not be respectful), I followed him onto the dance floor, hand in hand. He pressed me close to him, leaned his 74-year old face against my smoother skin, and held my hand.

Around the circle, we danced. If tango were sex, all the other couples were having sex right on the hardwood. Not I.

By the end of the number, I think I had dirtied the old man's shiny black shoes. I did my best to follow his lead, but I am forever cursed with three things: 1) I have no sense of direction (some may vehemently raise their hands in agreement), 2) I am pretty stiff in the shoulders, and 3) I cannot dance for my life. Alberto politely said to me 'Very Good!' which all I could say was 'Gracias!' But we both knew we were both lying.

Shortly after, he handed me a business card. It was not to ask me to call him for a future date, but instead, to tell me to set up tango lessons. The man is a tango instructor! Brilliant. He is making business at tango clubs on Tuesdays at midnight...with little Californian girls.

Though I have not yet called him, you'll be happy to hear that I put on my fancy heels for free tango lessons at the hostel last night. For a couple of hours, I learned some hot moves and Latin beats. It was six females, but we did our part to make things work. Maybe one day I can put a rose in my mouth...but not that soon.

******

Buenos Aires is a crazy city that never sleeps and eats at my bedtime hour. I've visited almost all the top destinations and districts so will be spending more time just roaming the streets and getting lost. Check out all my photos on my Flickr site at www.flickr.com/photos/michellechang. I'll be posting here on my blog whenever I get some downtime from tango, beef, wine, an futbol. Oh yes. Don't forget about futbol.