Day 71: The Neurology Class

I had my first experience as a medical student, and it was all in Spanish. I attended two classes today, with a 15 minute recess between. The first was on central nervous system infections and the second on tremors. It was fairly hard in the beginning, I was overwhelmed with new words and the speed at which everything was presented. I quickly how much I relied on listening to the teacher while I wrote notes during high school, and how much harder that was to do in a foreign language. Well in reality two foreign languages since medical language is never easy for natives of any language to understand. But by the end of the first class I had settled into a pretty good rhythm of taking simple notes and listening to the language as well as the content.

The group was fairly small, there were maybe 13 (with a few absent from the roll sheet), and the room we were in had seating for about half as many again. The teacher was one of the doctors I had seen in practice before, not the one I had thought it would be, but as it turns out quite a few doctors are taking turns teaching the 20 classes (plus practical time and two seminars) that are in this course. She was very brisk and confident in her presentation, adding personal notes to the PowerPoint information. She came over and talked with me briefly during the break, which was nice of her, and asked me if I was understanding anything. I told her I was. I think she was surprised/disbelieving. 

I got a little sheet with the different lectures during the course so I think that I might ask to sit in a couple more that interest me later on during my time in Lanari.

When I got home I looked up a couple of the acronyms that were used in the presentation that I had no idea of their meanings as well as 2 or 3 words that I wrote aside. I then researched (for personal interest) meningitis and encephalitis some more since they were talked about in the class and I wanted to hear more. The students all have text books, so I will have to make due with the internet. 

I had lunch at home, I bought some pizza from the pizzaria right across the street, and talked with Betty. She has been feeling a little under the weather recently, but she is taking vitamins, drinking and resting lots and I think she is on the recovery. I also dropped off my laundry when I got back since they are not open at 07.50 in the morning when I am dashing off to class. Therefore I will pick up the clothes tomorrow when I return from school. The whole deal is slightly inconvenient, but not a bother. 

I took a group Tango class this evening at 6.00p. I had the same two teachers as last week Thursday, Natalia and Gonzalo, who are very friendly and very sure of what they want and how badly I do all of it. It is good, though, because when they compliment they mean it, and when they criticize it always constructive. The hardest part for me, and this is slightly strange, is how freely the Tango is danced. There is a 'basic' step, but even that is extremely variable and for every pattern taught there are an infinite amount of variations. It makes it great fun to watch, very difficult to learn, and (for me as a novice) super challenging in that I am thinking of a million things all at once. It is fun, when I finally get it right. 

I think that I will be taking a class tomorrow (Tuesday), not Wednesday, and then either Thursday or Friday. How fitting that I was just talking about the freedom of expression in the dance, and I just realized that is exactly how loose my schedule has become. There are many options for times and teachers, so I will just decide based on what else I am doing during the week when I will take classes, not minding who instructs the classes. 

Just finished up some pasta for dinner, ravioli some filled with cheese and others with chicken and veggies. Very good with sauce and parmesan. I am going to bed right now because I am typing sleepily and I must be attentive for tomorrows topics of heredoataxias and enfermedades desmielinizantes. Oh boy, oh boy.

Chao.

Day 70: The Chill Sunday

A store with too funny a name to not be recognized

Quite the opposite from yesterday, today's events were very quiet. I slept in quite late, despite having done nothing the night before. As is my custom for the majority of my excursions, I went to Paula's house in the early afternoon and met up with a new friend of hers, Pitu (a nickname, I cannot remember his full name).

Together we all went to the Plaza Francia again and sat on the grass listening to live music, drinking mate, and munching little cookies with jam centers. It was very relaxing and enjoyable. Afterwards we went inside the Cultural Center that is located right on one side of the park, the very same complex where I visited the childrens' science museum. We went to a different part, though, and we saw some amazing photography (among other art). There was an exhibit of an artist with images from the shanti towns, very poor areas in the city of Buenos Aires, as well as a little film. There was another exhibit that was a small room covered on all the walls and the ceiling with black and white drawings. They were all slightly contorted, of all sizes and topics. Very cool.

Pitu and Paula

Paula

After leaving the art exhibits, we walked back to Pitu's house, and after dropping by a grocery store, cooked up some pasta and cream sauce for dinner. He had a great apartment, full of artwork and very homey. I took some photos from his balcony that stretched the full length of the apartment. Because of the darkness they are long-exposure shots and I like the lights.

Paula on the balcony

Nothing more really happened today. I am going right to bed now, actually I only need to close my eyes since I am writing this (as is my habit) from my bed. I have to get up rahther early tomorrow morning for 08.15 classes at the hospital. I bought some munchies for the break between classes since I know that I will get hungry. I may not be a drinker or smoker, and thereby save on those costs, but being continually hungry does have a hefty price on the wallet.

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.

Day 67: The Second Tango

Today was Day 2 for the hospital and the tango classes. I arrived at the hospital this morning at 08.30 and I waited for a short while while Dr. Mazia finished some other work before the patients arrived. Today was Carpal Tunnel Syndrome Day, two of the three patients having this condition, the third something closely similar. With each patient we worked in a different room from his consultation room, one that had an electromyogram machine. This machine using electric stimulation to record nerve conduction. While trying not to make my blog into a sort of medical journal, the machine projects a wave-form graph along with a calculated speed at which the impulse traveled along the nerve. The first patient, an elderly male, jumped around quite a lot with each impulse of the test. The second (who was complaining of pain, not insensitivity in the wrist) was an adult female who whooped an hollered with each impulse. I began to think that this machine was emitting some sort of current equivalent to 10 electric fences or something similar. The third patient, an elderly wheelchair-ridden female, hardly reacted at all. No noises, no jumping around. I presume each reaction must have something to do with each condition because the responses were so varied. Dr. Mazia offered to perform the same test on me so I could understand the patient side, and of course I eagerly accepted.

First he pulsed a small current that twitched my thumb involuntarily and was less 'shocking' than an electric fence (I thought). The second test was with an impulse sent from the elbow joint and it twitched my entire arm. It is a very strange sensation to have muscles act without me "giving" the command. I did not experience any of the pain or shock that the first two patients did, so I think that my presumption holds true.  When Dr. Mazia measured the speed of the impulse, he told me that my nerves were functioning perfectly well and that I did not have carpal tunnel syndrome. Any speed over 50m/s is considered 'normal' and my reading was 66.9m./s.. That is about 150mi./hr., now if I could only translate that, somehow, into voluntary movement, I would definitely be looking to join the track team at Davidson College. I will have to work a bit on that idea.

Dr. Mazia had to go all the way out to the airport today to declare some of the equipment that he is bringing to (and back again from) Canada for the conference, an inconvenience since the airport is terribly far from the city center. He plans to be at the institute tomorrow morning for an hour tops, I will be following a different neurology doctor. The same one who will be teaching the classes I will attend this next week.

I am thinking about asking, in the future not tomorrow, about observing in other areas in the hospital just a bit. I am definitely enjoying the situation as it is, but since I currently have a large section of my afternoon open before the tango-ing, I might be able to work something else out for after I finish my time in the neurology department for each day.

I dropped by the Spanish school today and picked up my certificate from the program. I am going to share this with you all, not to boast, but so that you can all be as surprised as I was at the amount of hours I completed there: 170 hours in "group" classes (including the groups of 1 when I was alone) and 82 hours in private lessons (including the medical Spanish). I had no idea I had spent that long there. Two months sounds like a lot less. Well, I am very happy with how that all worked out, and I could not have asked for a better way to improve my Spanish.

The tango class today was at 5.00p with two different instructors. There are quite a few instructors that teach in the studio (for lack of a more appropriate term) on different days at different times. I talked with Ceferina and she had spoken with my program coordinator about the financial part of things, so everything is in place. I have the option to take 5 group classes each week, or 1 private (equal to 3 group classes in price) and 2 group. I think I shall do the latter since I will benefit from one-on-one attention. Hmm, how interesting how that configuration is exactly the same as my academic plan. I just realized that. The class itself today was great. The two teachers were very friendly, helpful and definitely knew there stuff and I was the only foreigner (which I liked). There was no English spoken (well maybe 3 words) and so I felt much better than yesterday when things were in Spanglish. After some exercises we started working with a short little routine of about 7 or 8 steps (it is hard for me to count the steps since they are all so new to me). It was definitely a challenge, but I think I stepped up and did alright. At least I made the barman smile. Yesterday he was actually grimacing at me. How embarrassing. The phrase of the night tonight was poco a poco since I had to keep asking questions about where is the weight, what is the position of (insert body part) etc, etc. Those two instructors are there every Monday, they are dropping the Thursday spot after next week, so I think I will make an effort to be there for their classes.

There is just one more, non-activity, thing that I would like to share tonight. I intended to mention it a few days ago, but I always remembered that I wanted to include it while walking, not while writing. I frequently think about how I am going to write up the days events in my blog just after they happen, or even while the are happening. The funny thing is that I am now so accustomed to mentally translating all my thoughts, or in the best circumstances, thinking them directly in Spanish, that I forget that for the blog I can use English. This is the only time in the day that I actually use English for more than a sentence at a time. I have also caught myself translating my thoughts, however random the are, during the day. I wonder how long, when I return to the U.S., that this custom of translating will continue even though it is no longer required.

Anyways, off to bed. I get to sleep an extra half hour tomorrow morning since the other doctor does not start until 09.00. So to not spoil it by staying up later, I will head to bed now without reading any of El eternauta.

Chicken for dinner, super yummy.

Chao.

Day 66: The First Clinical Day

Tonight the post will be shorter, since I have to get to bed earlier; I have to adjust my body to get up earlier than with the Spanish classes.

Today I arrived at the hospital at 08.30 and the first patient entered the room about 5 minutes later. He was a Myasthemia case that was not yet too severe. Myasthemia is a disease that affects the neurotransmitters that are located inside the voluntary muscles. Simply put, the immune system produces what are called antibodies and they block off the nerve passageways, stopping the signals from reaching the muscles. In extreme cases the muscles that control breathing can be affected, and essentially stop working. I did some more research this afternoon to better understand what I had seen and heard during the day. The guys is participating in a study being conducted from the University of Alabama of global cases of Myasthemia. There are 12 cases in Buenos Aires currently, and Dr. Mazia is heading the case study here. He sent a sample of blood off to the United States because when the antibodies block or destroy the connection between muscles and nerve, the change is visible in the bloodstream. Dr. Mazia and another female doctor conducted some other muscle resistance and strength tests. The patient today was not a very advanced case and from what I understood he was not getting any worse while taking the study's medicine.

Apart from that there was only one other patient during the day. This patient had quite the mouthful of a condition: Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS) which is also commonly known as Lou Gehrig's disease after the famous baseball player who died from ALS. That was an interesting case in which the neurons slowly stop 'working' and muscle control drops along with muscle atrophy. The patient had had tracheal surgery and could no longer talk or control some of the mouth movements, particularly the lower lip. He had to frequently use a kleenex to dab at the saliva that he could not prevent from exiting his mouth. The rest of his body seemed to be functioning well enough, he only had complaints (voiced through the assistance of who I believe were his wife and daughter) about his right arm which was weaker than the left and had a more limited range of motion.

Dr. Mazia is currently writing a book, so an illustrator stopped by towards the end of morning to discuss the first of a few images he wanted to include along with his writings. His topic was related to Myasthemia, but I am unsure of exactly what other topics it is to cover. I only was able to glance at the first page, where the image is supposed to go. Dr. Mazia is leaving tomorrow afternoon for a conference in Toronto, Canada for next week, so my schedule will be a little different from expected, although I do not know now if it will be better or worse:

While Dr. Mazia is out of the country I am to observe in some of the classes offered to medical students in the hospital. I met with the teacher, a doctor, today briefly and she told me that there would be two classes every day except Wednesday. I am quite interested to see how much (if anything) I will be able to understand in these classes; I do not know at what level they will be. No matter what, I am looking forward to the opportunity.

Alright, to talk a little about the Tango class. There were only 3 students: another beginner girl from California and an Argentinean guy who as slightly more competent. The class was 1.5 hours long, with two instructors who were both super nice and helpful. I learned quite a lot and learned that the Ballroom dancing that I know will not really help me at all here. The comment I received most was to drop the posture I had learned to adopt for dances such as the Waltz. Quite the opposite here. But I had fun, which is most important, and I feel like I really will learn a lot. The only problem (yes, as always there is some problem) is with the payment for the classes.

The man who arranged my visit, the school, the hospital, the dancing, made some sort of communicational error. The owner of the studio was expecting some 'Dylan' to take classes between the 15th and 26th of February. I have no idea who that was supposed to be, definitely not me since the receipt that I was given after paying for the program said that I would be taking classes during the month of April a long with my time in the hospital. So... somewhere something went wrong. I just hope it can be resolved without too much fuss and I can just take the lessons, I am really not ready for a bunch of complications.

Alright, off to bed shortly after sending a message to the program coordinator. I am tired, it is late, and I have to get up at the snap crackle and pop of dawn tomorrow. I think I have just invented a fantastic new expression. I plan to use it more frequently, and I give all of you readers full permission to use it if you so care. I do not know if this post was exceptionally short, I guess I had plenty to say.

Chao.

Day 65: The Double Blowout

I woke up a little later than I had while going to school as my meeting at the hospital was scheduled for 10.00a. I got to take the subway in the opposite direction since the hospital is located almost equidistantly to the west from the school. I found the hospital with essentially no problems, I only had issues with finding the doctor. After waiting outside what turned out to be an empty consultation room for a while, I was finally directed to a different office. Doctor Claudio Mazia is a neurologist, and we met today after talking briefly via email. He was very nice, from what I understand he speaks some English, but I am proud to say that my comprehension skills are now such that we conversed sin problemas in Spanish. It turned out that I could not start my practical today, but instead I am to arrive earlier (08.30a) tomorrow to start my observation. Apparently the man who coordinated everything for me did not tell Dr. Mazia that I have not yet started medical school. I think that was a bit of a surprise. So, after less than 2 hours I left the hospital.

I had planned on spending longer there, naturally, so I decided to go for a little bit of a walk. I followed the route of the subway and walked a good ways, past a cemetery and through new neighborhoods. It was quite freshly cool today outside, so it was a very nice experience. The woman with whom I had contact for the classes in Tango that I am going to be taking told me that I could meet with her after 4.00p, preferably 5.00, to discuss hours and times per week of the classes.

After a small snack after midday, I studied a bit of vocabulary (how nerdy, I know, but I felt obligated somehow) and read some of a comic "novel" I must call it since it is so substantial that I was given by Germán on my last day, El eternauta.

At essentially 4.30p I headed out to the studio, which turned out to be a bar/restaurant that has a dance floor and hosts classes during the week. The woman I had talked with, however, called Ceferina was not there having gone to the doctor. She was supposed to return at 6.00p, but knowing Argentineans and their concept of punctuality, I knew it would be later. I hope nothing is seriously wrong with her and it was just that she forgot about the appointment when we last talked before I left for Mendoza. Anyways, I decided to go for another little stroll through the city. I walked east and then north and went right past the school about half an hour later. I rang the bell to see if on the off chance that someone would be there, but there was only the cleaning woman.

I decided to take the subway line that is closer to the school and change lines on the way home, a variation on my routine that I made off and on while at the school. There is a square near the subway entrance and as I was about to enter I heard the sound of bagpipes being played in the from the other side of the square. I could not see the player, but the music was great, and so I followed it around the statue that is in the middle of the square. I sat down on some steps and listened to the man playing the bagpipes for half an hour. It was really nice. I love how unique the sound from that instrument is. Anyway, I left after he played the song that to me is the classic 'bagpipe' song, I do not know the name, but every time I think of bagpipes, that's the song that comes to mind. It really made my day.

I came back home, ate some empanadas and I just finished watching a terrific television program in Buenos Aires that is a series about female murderers, all real-life stories. The acting is great, and it is a really good opportunity for more comprehension practice. I have seen two now, two weeks in a row; apparently the show runs every Tuesday.

Now it is off to the bed with me as I have an early start to what will hopefully be a busy day tomorrow.

Chao.

Days 59-64: The Semana Santa en Mendoza

So, I got back this morning from a fantastic weekend in the province of Mendoza. I want to share lots about the trip, but I will aim to be brief enough as to not be a bore.

I met Flor at the assigned gas Shell station on Wednesday at 6.30p where we waited for quite a while for the bus to arrive. We were a little frustrated at the start of the trip with the lack of punctuality, we left the station a good hour later than scheduled. Our other complaint, that really was the only lasting issue was the volume of the music that was continually played in the bus. At times the music was great, for energy and a feeling of excitement, but there were many times when sleeping was difficult because of all the noise. The bus was fun, however, Flor and I sought to get the front seats on the top floor (double-decker) and we did so, with only one exception, every time. There we had lots of leg room and next to us were Carolina and Lucas two very friendly and quite hilarious people with whom we bonded over the trip.

The rest of the journey there was a bit of a blur, we drank mate that Flor had brough with her, an action that was repeated daily, stopped at a gas station for dinner, and I slept in and out of consciousness throughout the rest of the 13+ hour journey across the country.

Before arriving at our cabins, we stopped at a winery, a Bodega, called Eclipse where we got to observe different stages of the wine-making process. We also sampled grapes and of course different wines.

We continued on to the cabins that were situated in the foothills of the Andes mountains. The place was gorgeous; well kept vegetation in a very arid environment and cozy wooden cabins. I shared a cabin with 8 other people, including Flor, Carolina and Lucas. I hate to admit this, but there were 57 people on in the group and I failed miserably at learning names. Everyone immediately learned that the "yankee," pronounced shankee here, was called Dylan since the only other non-Argentineans were 3 French guys. I, however, was overwhelmed with foreign names all of which sounded too similar.

The next day we went rafting on the Rio Mendoza, a fast-paced river that was quite the ride. We occupied 8 rafts, and despite the very cold conditions I had a great time. There was a girl in my raft, called Paula (how confusing) who fell out not only once, but twice. The first time she fell out but was rescued as she swept by the stern end of the raft by the instructor. I grabbed her paddle as we moved past it. A short while later when we were going over a rough patch with another raft right alongside, she essentially bounced right from our raft onto the other! We all had a moment of shock, and then a good laugh. I sat in the bow of the raft and got many a smack in the face by the waves, but I did not lose a contact, so everything was fantastic. Afterwards we had some snacks and warmed up inside the little cafe at the rafting business.

The following morning a bunch of us walked down to the riverbed that is right behind our cabins and sat by the little amount of water that was moving through. In the afternoon we went to do trekking as they call it, a little hike up into the mountains in front of the cabins. We walked 12km (c7.5mi), 6km up and, naturally 6km down the mountainside. We had some gorgeous views and stopped to rest halfway next to a little stream that was flowing down by the path.

I opted not to go out partying that night, as was offered by the group. The Argentineans have a warped perspective of time and sleep and I knew that if I went out between 02.00a and 06.30a I would be smashed for a wake-up call at 9.00 the next morning. So, instead, Flor and I stayed and played (well, I learned how to play) the local and very popular game of Truco. Truco is played with a special deck of cards (which have the faces of 'cups,' 'gold,' 'clubs,' and 'swords' and the numbers 1-7 and 10-12) and involves lying, luck, skill, teamwork and a bottle of wine preferably with some cheese. There are a ton of rules and nuances that I think I now know, but I am sure that I do not, but the game has similarities to Poker, B.S., and even Go-Fish. I hope to buy a deck to bring home and continue playing. If anyone remembers my blog from a while back where I took pictures of men playing a game in the Parque Rivadavia, they were playing Truco.

The next morning, we all jumped into the van (the majority wearing sunglasses and wincing at loud noises, but not me...) and enjoyed the first music-less journey to the base of the highest peak in Mendoza, Aconcagua. The peak is some 6962m tall (c22,840ft) and is regarded as the Argentinean Mount Everest, requiring oxygen supplements for those who attempt to climb the full height. Needless to say we did not climb the entire mountain, rather we did a nice little loop at the base that was full of photo opportunities. There was some water there, and so the whole experience was a mind-blowingly beautiful (if you do not like the use of mind-blowingly as an adjective than that is just too bad). Again the wind was the only negative issue, blowing fiercely across the hills and freezing off our warm-blooded behinds.

Before heading home we stopped at a second location called El puente de incas where there was a little crafts market. There was a little canyon that had beautifully colored rock walls, ancient structures built into one side and a natural bridge spanning the gap. On the other side was a church that was the only remaining building after a disastrous landslide wiped away the rest of the structures. In the market there I picked out a gift of  membrilla which is a gelatinous jam that is sold in square blocks and has a thin dusting of sugar all around for Betty. We had had some during breakfasts during February, and Mendoza has a bit of a legacy for the stuff.

That night was the costume party. Flor and I dressed up as tourists, since I had no 'normal' costume attire with me, and adopted brutal American accents for the evening. There were all sorts of costumes that night, from bunches of grapes, to a Gaucho (the Argentinean equivalent of a cowboy), to cowgirls, Little Red Riding Hoods (yes, there was more than one...) and one of my favorites was Lucas and Carolina's: Megabytes. They had printed out sheets of paper with binary code and covered themselves in the 1s and 0s. We had a great time dancing the night away to Cumbia music. I learned how to dance Cumbia, with Flor and Carolina as instructors, it is very fun and can be ridiculously fast and yet always remains relaxed and happy.

On our last day we visited a monument to San Martin before heading home. The monument commemorates General Martin who freed multiple South-American countries from the rule of the Spanish. The monument was set atop a giant hill and was appropriately large. We all took pictures and heard a little history and explanation as to what and who were represented. It was quite a significant stop for the Argentineans. However, not to ever remain too serious, we sang a song on the steps of the monument and made a little film of our choreographed dancing. There was this song called 'Y Apareciste Tu' by Los Reyes del Cuarteto that is crazily catchy song and it was played close to a million times during the bus trips. We all had it firmly in our heads, had learned the choreography to the chorus during the costume party, and so we filmed the whole group dancing along under the gaze of San Martin. I think he would have approved. I still have the song in my head, I have been singing it all day long. It is way past the point of ridiculous.

Today we arrived at about 7.00a back at the Shell station in central Buenos Aires and I took the subway home. It was weird to be moving about solo, not thinking about where everyone else was. It is also weird to be back in the city. I cannot believe I was only gone for 4 whole days. I had a super breakfast with Betty and Ana (the housecleaner who visits biweekly and much more of a friend than an employee). I took a nap today, read a little, and uploaded the 219 photos that I took onto my computer. Betty cooked a delicious meat dish with rice and we had some flan for desert.

I should mention that the food in Mendoza was also spectacular. The cook was a Chilean called Fernando who did a fantastic job of cooking fresh, flavorful food for all of us with hot meals for lunch and dinner. We all ate massive amounts.

As mentioned above, I have a large amount of photos that I have uploaded onto the website Facebook.com. I believe that the following two links should provide access to these photos:

This has the first 200 photos:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=404228&id=802990315&l=d414cf05f2

The other 19 that did not fit in that album are here:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=404268&id=802990315&l=482a42cee8

I cannot possibly add all the photos to the blog, not only would that be a horror to load, but inconvenient to view. Leave a comment if the photos are not accessible and I will add a couple 'best of' pictures in my next post.

I am off to the hospital tomorrow morning, and I will be stopping by the Tango studio to arrange my schedule there as well. I am very excited for this new segment in my time abroad!