Days 68-69: The Busy Friday

To start this post off I would like to explain a little about what is "mate." I think that it is important enough to deserve this paragraph. The drink mate is an herb, actually called yerba mate, that is dried and crushed and sold in packages like sugar, flour or salt. The container from which it is drunk is a hollowed-out gourd (sometimes with decorations and/or stand) that has a special metal straw that also acts as a filter. The yerba is poured into the gourd, called 'the mate,' and then hot water is poured in just so that it reaches the level of the yerba. Supposedly for the best mate experience the water should be as close to boiling as possible, while not actually boiling. Sweetener can be added to preference and different flavors of yerba (ie the fruit orange) can be purchased in stores. The bombilla, the developed straw, is made from metal and acts to filter the yerba pieces. It is placed into the mate and not moved or stirred. There are a few customs associated with drinking mate, two of the more important being that you drink all of the water in the mate before refilling or handing it back to the preparer and that you only say gracias when you have had enough mate. It is a caffeinated beverage and is usually drunk in the morning or mid-afternoon.

Mendoza mate drinking (Diego, Flor, and me)

Okey-dokee enough of that. If you really want to hear more, wikipedia actually has a pretty good article on mate.

Yesterday was a rather full day. I went to the hospital in the morning, as planned, and that was probably the slowest part of the day. I was following two other neurology doctors since Dr. Mazia was flying out that day and we saw very few patients. There was a little farewell celebration for one of the rotating doctors who is going to join Doctors Without Borders for a while. We had some tort and coca-cola.

Germán with Estudiantes' victory image (below)


After the clinic experience, I dropped home for a little while before heading out once again. I dropped by the Spanish school to say hi to some of the teachers, and to take a photo with Germán. At about 4.30p I walked the goodly ways to the Tango bar for a 1.5 hour private lesson. My instructor was really nice. He definitely did not look like the stereotypical dancer, more of an office worker if anything, but we worked on the subtleties that make the tango the Tango. He also taught me some basics that I could use to navigate a crowded dance floor.

Yes, she died her hair.

Once the lesson was finished at 6.30p I received a text from Betty telling me where I could find her at a march that was organized in the middle of the city. Originating at the Obelisco, a huge group of people gathered in protest of a topic I believe I mentioned a while before. There is a current conflict between the owner of the major newspaper Clarín owner and Las Madres of the Casa Rosada. The owner, a rich woman, has two adopted children who are suspect of being illegally adopted during the dictatorship. The children (now adults) are unwilling to take a DNA test and run the risk of losing their ties to the Clarín business. Anyway, the rally was against the Clarín, organized by a television program called '6-7-8' on Facebook.com. People were chanting/singing/yelling, jumping, waving banners and flags, handing out pamphlets, and there were some fireworks too. After finally finding Betty (a difficult business) we decided to leave after waiting for a while for the 'marching' part to start. So we went home and at some savory crépes while watching the protest on that night's show of 6-7-8 that was broadcasting live at that time.

After eating I went to Paula and Andres' department where we met up with three other friends and headed out for the night. It was a late one, but filled with a fantastic mix of American and Latin music.

This morning I was able to talk to my Grandma and my Dad. One via phone, the other computer. I almost forget sometimes that life is happening outside Buenos Aires.

I dropped by Paula's again in the afternoon and we went for a walk and listened to a live band in the park nearby. I had to rush back though at 8.00p for Betty's dinner. This dinner was a meal three days in the making. It started when her grandson asked how is the Jewish Easter dinner. She wanted to cook it all for the actual Easter Sunday, but did not have the time. For tonight, though, she created a complete meal with lots of traditional food including of course matza and kosher wine. We finished it all off with some of the same chocolate tort that I have raved about before since it uses no rising ingredients. It was super yummy.

My plans for tomorrow are pretty open-ended, I have nothing particular planned and I am liking that situation quite a lot.

Chao.