Sunday, December 20, 2009

Adventuras en Empleo (cont.)

Realizing that it has been exactly two weeks since my last post, I have decided that it is time for an update. I realize now that my lofty goal of one entry per week is not exactly compatible with my procrastinatory nature. Yeah, I know that's not a word. I just made it one. Think of me as this generation's Dr. Seuss.

So I suppose you're all on the edge of your seats wondering how our job at El Palenque is going -- the answer is: Great! As the ships dock and tourists start pouring in, Andrea and I find ourselves to be more and more appreciated, both by dizzied elderly couples desperately seeking English speakers, and by staff at the restaurant, frantically searching for a way to lasso the Americans and Brits and yank them into our parrillada.

Our role in the restaurant has thus far grown to include responsibilities as promoters, translators/interpreters, make-shift seating hostesses, and hotel correspondents. As of yesterday, we were able to check off another box: Tour guides. Let me explain...

A smaller, very luxurious cruise pulled into the port yesterday morning. After an hour or so of handing out flyers and coupons to little avail, the two of us found ourselves chitchatting with some of the younger, hipper cruisers from the ship -- please bear in mind this places them in the 50-60 year age bracket. Spring chickens and roosters, as far as most cruises go. Anyway, the lot of us hit it off right away and they ended up inquiring about the possibility of us giving them a tour of good old Monty-V. Walking around the city with four friendly Los Angeleans in the December sunshine? Sounded like fun! Nevermind the fact that Andrea and I are essentially tourists ourselves, with little to no concrete knowledge of the city. We went to Penn and we can bullshit with the best of them.

We headed back to the restaurant and, after getting the "ok" from our esteemed manager, set out on foot from the Mercado del Puerto and weaved our way through the crackly sidewalks of Ciudad Vieja to the Peatonal (an idyllic little pedestrian walkway) all along the way pointing out whatever little historic landmarks we could and hurling out any interesting facts about Uruguayan life that popped into our minds. Fast forward through an hour and a half of jewelry, leather, and trinket shopping (and two very bored husbands), and we were back at the restaurant.

After regrettably insisting that no, we really could not join them for lunch, but that we would be sure to check up on them later, our group sat down in the secluded, air-conditioned upstairs while we headed down into the madness that was developing on the ground level of the market. We had no idea that the Saturday before Christmas at el Mercado del Puerto is tantamount to swarms of rambunctious youngsters imbibing glass after glass of medio y medio (a saccharine sparkling wine) and clogging up the doors and walkways of every restaurant in the building.

Andrea and I ran around for un rato (a little bit), looking for open tables, seating hungry guests, and checking in on a bunch of English speaking groups. We make friends with the tourists fast. What can I say? They love us. At points this job makes us feel like moviestars, with many of them asking us to pose for photos. Ah well, if you insist...

Between the photo opps and autographs, we nearly missed our L.A. amigos heading out the door after polishing off the last of their meal. We pulled ourselves away from the mania long enough to snap a photo with them, divvy out some hugs and air-kisses, and allow them to surreptitiously place some much missed American green into our hands. $50 each! Such sweet, generous people. Major props to SoCal.

So after 7-hours of constant motion on our feet, Andrea and I wearily collected our belongings and headed out the door. I have a whole new appreciation for the organization and efficiency that came with hostess work at Tinto in Philadelphia -- chaos seems to be the name of the game down here in El Palenque, where the only speed available is hustle. Que puedes hacer? When in Rome...

More soon!

Un beso,
Emily

PS- I did get that job at the other restaurant where I interviewed. After learning it would be Monday-Saturday from 6 pm to 1 am, with a laughable wage (and probably even more comical tips) I decided it would be best to stick with my current situation. Regardless, it was encouraging to find out that someone would have actually hired me, broken Spanish and all.

PPS- Everyone bid adieu to Kara and Sarah, as their time in Uruguay draws to a close. Come tomorrow morning at 4 am, they will be gliding back to the U.S. courtesy of Copa airlines. They'll be missed, but the apartment won't be empty for long. We're expecting our fair share of visitors and riffraff passing through in the coming months: My sister Becky, our blonde friend Carolyn, and a twinkly-eyed Penn alum named Noah who has been backpacking around South America for the past few months. New faces mean new adventures, so keep checking back!

Sunday, December 6, 2009

From Ciudad Vieja to San Carlos: Adventuras en Empleo


Life is funny. It appears that I have traveled to the other side of the world just to be working in the restaurant industry again. Ah well, why fight what the people want? Perhaps I should rewind a bit...

TUESDAY: Andrea and I hopped the 121 omnibus to Ciudad Vieja and canvassed the neighborhood with resumes in hand. We tried to hit every possible tourist location or tourism-related business that we could, which inevitably led us to el Mercado del Puerto, a food court of sorts with a myriad of restaurants that draw people through the doors with the smokey allure of steak, sausage, lamb, and chicken sizzling on la parrilla.
We entered each of the four lovely restaurants that dotted the central courtyard and were told repeatedly to come back tomorrow during lunchtime when the owners and managers would be around. This seemed strange to me, as dropping in on a restaurant in the States during lunch or dinner service is as good as throwing your resume out and getting the evil eye at the same time.

WEDNESDAY: Regardless, we returned the next day around 1:30 and had words with a couple of managers. In fact, we had many words with the manager at El Palenque. Servers were weaving around us frantically, the chefs were yelling in the background, and the asaderos working la parrilla couldn't even pause to wipe the sweat from their foreheads as they tended to the meaty masterpieces in front of them. Amidst all this chaos, Paula Machado led us through the huge restaurant and upstairs to the airy loft-like office space where we sat down with her. I proceeded to furrow my brow in concentration as she rattled off her ideas to us in rapid Spanish.

20 minutes later, we walked out of the restaurant and Andrea immediately started translating the things I was not able to pick up on. I came to learn that the restaurant was in need of some English-speaking employees for the tourist season. They were looking for a couple of girls to promote the restaurant to tourists as they came off their cruise boats and headed into Montevideo for the day. They also have a huge pimped-out van that they wanted us to drive around in to different hotels, offering the guests free transportation to and from the restaurant or even offering to drive them to the El Palenque in Punta del Este for the day.

It seems like we have found a place where we fit! We bring the English and the American charm, El Palenque brings la plata. They're even setting up a little desk for us with our own phone and computer! It's the little details that mean the most to us. Speaking of little details, feel free to peruse the website to get an idea of our new place of employment:

http://www.elpalenque.com.uy/el%20palenque%20ingles/ingles.htm

THURSDAY: The highlight of my Thursday came in the form of an interview for work in a restaurant. I had sent my resume to a guy in response to an ad posted in El Gallito, which is essentially the classifieds for El País, the most popular periodical in these parts. The next day, I received a phone call asking me to meet up for an interview! I was excited and horrified.
So I made my way to 1344 Osioro in the late afternoon sunshine and knocked on the door of what appeared to be a regular old house on a quiet residential street of el barrio Buceo. I tried to shove away the feeling of being sketched-out, which was replaced by a feeling of confusion as no one came to answer the door. I wandered down the street a bit, trying to make sure I was in the right area, when a little white coupe zipped past me and parked in front of 1344. Two young guys got out, mate and thermos in tow, and headed to unlock the door. I called out to them, "Ignacio?" and upon hearing a "Si?" exhaled and introduced myself. We headed into the house and up the stairs where I was greeted by a trendy little office with a glowing red sign on the wall reading "Uopa" and an Ikea-esque red couch. We took a seat, I took a breath, and we were off!
I explained to them my fickle relationship with the Spanish language, which didn't seem to bother them all that much. They explained to me about the restaurant that was opening up in the World Trade Center (Yes, they have a building here that is called the World Trade Center. It's a little tower in a spiffy part of town that houses offices that deal in international finance and the like). We discussed my experience in restaurants, what I would want to do in the new place, and what my schedule looked like. Overall, I think the interview went great! I got along well with the guys, I was able to understand the bulk of what was being explained to me, and I left feeling very proud of myself for just having gotten through the interview on my own. Hopefully I will hear from them tomorrow, but if not, asi es la vida. It's still a little victory for me.

FRIDAY: On the English teaching front, we got an email from the International House the other night when they had to scramble to find a substitute for two of their classes. Andrea took one group, and I took the other. My class ended up being half a dozen kids, ages 17-19, prepping for some sort of Cambridge English exam that is taking place on December 14th.
After having them do some practice with the listening portion of the exam, I tried to move on to the speaking exercises provided for me in a corresponding book. That was dull and boring and the kids were not the least bit engaged, so we ended up just shooting the shit. I would ask them questions about Montevideo, and they would enthusiastically fill me in. We covered everything: mate, fútbol, politics, learning to drive, the best clubs and bars in the city, the drug culture here, etc. The International House probably would not have been pleased to hear some of the topics that were being discussed, but I was having fun and I think the kids were too. They were very polite and talkative and spoke very good English. Definitely an enjoyable couple of hours.

SATURDAY: My Saturday was spent waking up at 5 AM, catching a cab to Tres Cruces bus terminal with Kara, and heading off to San Carlos to give English exams to a school in rural Uruguay. We arrived with our fellow International House proctors to the bus station and waited around for a bit for the school representative to meet us. When that didn't happen, we decided to navigate the streets of San Carlos ourselves. We made our way to the International House of San Carlos, only to be greeted by locked doors and the peaceful silence that can only be found in small towns. Starving, Kara and I walked across the street to the flamingo pink panaderia (bakery) to kill some time. One banana croissant (ew--a choice that was both blind and bad) and chocolate milk later, and still no signs of life from the school. That was when we realized we were in the wrong place.
Back through the streets we went, while I sang a version of "Here We Come a-Wassailing" amended to "Here We Come a-Proctoring" that I am pretty sure only Kara appreciated, and mildly at that. We made it to the correct venue without a problem, and immediately were thrown into the fire. I scooped up some folders that held the tests for Children 2 and Juniors 1 and made a beeline for Room 6, where 24 chicos y chicas were waiting patiently to be given their exam. I called roll, introduced myself, passed out the tests, and pressed "play" for the listening section to begin. An hour and a half later, I had read a couple of pages of The Looming Tower and had attempted to answer a lot of questions posed to me in the rushed and angelic Spanish that tends to accompany nervous Uruguayan children.
After a 15 minute break, my next group entered the class room -- 12 teenagers. Wonderful. Some snotty remarks and rolling eyes aside, they were a decent group of kids. A couple of times I meekly demanded silence from them in my broken Spanish since they were treating the occasion as a conference and not so much as an exam. Other than that, they were pretty well-behaved, even if they did keep asking me to give them answers to the questions:

Gustavo: "Debajo?" (under?)

Me: *blank look*

Gustavo: *puts knick-knack under the desk* "Debajo!" (under!)

Me: *annoyed* "Si, entiendo la palaba 'debajo.' No entiendo tu pregunta." (Yes, I understand the word 'under.' I don't understand your question.")

Gustavo: "How you say 'debajo'?"

Me: "No puedo contarte en ingles! Esto es un examen!" (I can't tell you in English! This is an exam!")

Gustavo: *Grunts. Rolls eyes*

Cue the leisurely lunch break, followed by several hours of oral exams. I felt terrible about how nervous the kids were and how frustrated they would get -- I remember only too well the terror that comes with being tested in another language. Hell, I know only too well the terror that comes with having to speak in another language everyday. Because of this, I tried to be as comforting as I could without being a pushover, but to be honest I think I leaned more toward the latter than the former.

Which brings us to SUNDAY: I just woke up an hour and half ago so sadly there is nothing exciting to report yet. As always, stay tuned.

If you read through this monstrously long post without needing a break, major props. If you didn't, better luck next time.

Besos!

PS - I finally understand the Uruguayan obsession with milanesa. I have to say, I was confused at first as I had yet to experience a truly delicious example. And then came dinner with Tia Adriana, Tio Cesar, and prima Guille on Thursday night. Tia's homemade milanesa was crispy, tender, and heavenly. I'll do my best to wrestle the recipe from her delicate little hands.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

The Future of English Education: As if the recession wasn't reason enough to depress you

Let me begin this blog by tossing out some props to my boy José Garces on recently being named the Next Iron Chef! For those of you loyal followers who are unaware, I worked in one of Chef José's restaurants (Tinto) in Philadelphia for a stint, so I was in a tizzy to hear he prevailed in beating out nine other chefs to win a place in Kitchen Stadium among Chefs like Bobby Flay and Masaharu Morimoto. I like to think I had a little something to do with his victory, even if there is no "measurable" basis for my claim.

I am happy to report that things seem to be chugging along on the job front, at least compared to the position we were in a few weeks ago. Lets go through this point by point:

1) The Anglo School: It seems we have secured a position as teachers for some English courses with the Anglo School in Montevideo. Come the end of January, Andrea and I will be jointly teaching an intermediate English class while Sarah and Kara will take on the advanced English course. Each level is divided into two classes, a morning and an afternoon, that meet Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays for four weeks. We have a meeting with some administrators on Friday to learn more about the training we will need to go through before we can start teaching, as well as to present them with any ideas we may have for the classes. I'm very excited for this gig, though I'm sure it will prove to be a substantial amount of work.

2) Profesoras de Inglés: In case you were unaware, that is the namesake of our private tutoring business we have been touting around Pocitos. Kara and I gave our first lesson on Monday, to a woman named Leticia. Leticia is a metropolitan mamacita with a beautiful house just a few blocks away from our apartment. Aside from having two lovely daughters (we were introduced to them via the framed photos on the mantle), she also has access to as much pizza as she wants! Her husband owns Princess Pizzeria. We sure know how to pick 'em. Anyway, the lesson went well. She already knows a fair amount of English and you can tell she is dedicated to her education -- She is very patient, doesn't really get frustrated, and stays enthusiastic. Our maiden voyage into the world of one-on-one teaching was a peaceful one.

3) The International House: Stroll down Avenida Soca for a few blocks and you'll run into The International House, with it's cheery yellow sign and a macédoine of flags from around the world (sorry, that was my word-of-the-day from Merriam Webster, I promised myself I would use it today). A little while back we had an interview with a chipper Canadian named Adriana, and we heard back from her today! After a quick trip to her office, we learned we each had an assignment to proctor English exams being administered around Uruguay. Andrea will be heading to Paysandu, Sarah will be on her way to Fray Bentos, I'll be schlepping to San Carlos, and Kara will make trips to San Carlos AND Maldonado. Now I'm not saying Kara used her womanly wiles to score the double gig, but I'm also not saying she DIDN'T come back from International House disheveled and breathless. Just kidding ya'll...kind of.

Funny anecdote: My flipflop broke on the way to the International House. I was stuck trudging down Avenida Soca looking like something out of a Mary Shelley novel. Being the charming American girls we are, we have made friends all over our neighborhood, and I received some help from a sheepish chico named Rodrigo at the local gas station. He was able to MacGyver some sort of paper-clippy contraption and essentially made my havaiana as good as new! Then again, maybe the gas-station gents were just trying to thank us for our generous patronage of there establishment (our collective alfajor habit probably pays their wages).

Well there you have it, more evidence that it's not ALL fun and games down here in Montevideo. I mean, sure, our days are spent going for sunny walks and runs along the Rambla, sipping mate on the beach, flirting with our adorable doorman, playing jovial games of Rummy and Congas, gorging ourselves on faína, watching Felicity and debating the pros and cons of Noel and Ben (I'm team Noel, for the record), and . . . yeeeah, I think you get the idea. It's hard out here for a pimp.

I'd like to end this post by giving a shout-out to Becky Steele, who will be visiting me for Christmas/New Years. And while I'm a little concerned about her delusions of Montevideo (she seems to have expectations of a tropical utopia, complete with champagne rooms at beach-front clubs and horseback riding through the ocean), I have no doubt she will have the time of her life. After all, a tan Becky is a happy Becky, and if there is anything that is basically a sure-thing here, it's sun so strong it could fry the freckles right off your face.

You stay classy, blogworld.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Closed Doors and Open Windows

I woke up this morning to the sight of a finely-groomed Kara Kopp gently telling us it was time to rise and shine. We had an interview scheduled at 10 AM with Ettica, a promotion company that we were hoping would offer us temporary relief from our unemployment woes. We know that we can pass out flyers and move food samples with the best of 'em -- with killer smiles and charming attitudes to boot!

13 minutes into our journey down Echevarriarza street, it occurred to me that I had forgot my passport, which I had been told specifically to bring with me. Andrea and Sarah were already prepared, so while they soldiered on Kara and I raced back to The Penthouse (read: our apartment), rushed past our portero/crush Ramiro, and tore through our apartment before we breezed out the door once more. All of this stress and perspiration just to be told that, sorry, we can't employ tourists. Chins up, kids, better luck next time.

Deflated and dejected, we dragged our feet back to our apartment and sulked a little. The sulking was soon interrupted, however, by an unexpected *RING*. Expecting to hear the voice of Abuela or Sarah's boyfriend Drew (by far out two most frequent callers), Kara answered the phone and was greeted by the voice of an interested party for our English-tutoring services! Panicked by the Spanish rhetoric being hurled her way, Kara calmly replied "Un momento," and then cried out for Sarah and myself. I promptly ended my Skype conversation with my sister, while Sarah roused herself from her nap and grabbed hold of the phone. 5 minutes later, we had an address, a name, and a date and time set up for a diagnostic meeting. Salado! Wish us luck, our first meeting with a real live client takes place tomorrow. Sarah and Andrea will be going as our representatives.

A few hours later, yet another opportunity unveiled itself: We were able to schedule a group interview with the Uruguay Anglo School, which seems to be very enthusiastic about the prospect of having us teach English in the upcoming weeks. This gig would be ideal, for both monetary gain and resumé building.

And so my friends, even when you think all is lost, don't lose it all! You never know what is creeping around the corner. It could be a groncho or it could be a golden ticket! Alright, I'm getting ahead of myself, but optimism is just about all we have at the point.

Say a prayer, think good thoughts, or just send out groovy vibrations. We'll take what we can get.

Besos!

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

You're Such an Alfajor

And now, please enjoy a disorganized post comprised of random information that you don't really need to know:

-I got sunburned yesterday, and I am actually surprised it didn't happen sooner. We took advantage of the clear blue skies and headed to the beach for about 2 hours. We headed back to our apartment at which time I became aware of my sunkissed cheeks, nose, and chest. As far as sunburns go, however, it was relatively painless and has already faded into a tan with a less offensive tint. Lesson learned, though: Don't mess with the Uruguayan sun. It's on their flag for a reason.

-Our love affair with faina and dulce de leche continues to grow. In case I haven't mentioned faina up to this point, let me just say that it is a crispy, salty, chewy, oily, obscenely good kind of bread down here. The restaurant on the kitty corner from our apartment makes some mean faina and charges only 35 pesos per portion (which comes out to about $1.75). They now know us as the girls across the street who like their pieces "grueso," or thick.
The Dulce de Leche addiction has also expanded, to the point where we're consuming more alfajores than we should. Rather than try to describe exactly what an alfajor is, just take a gander at this visual learning tool:



While we're at it, here is a picture of faina as well:


-We have our flyers all printed up and ready to hang, in both Spanish and English! We have begun to walk around Pocitos and stick them up in the windows of little shops and markets where we can. We've also begun stopping in at English schools and Universities to speak with the directors and see if there are any English -teaching opportunities available. We stopped by The International House the other day, which is an institution that specializes in teaching English (with a minor focus on teaching other languages as well, like Japonese, German, and French). We dropped off our resumés and even snagged an opportunity to speak with the head of the coordination department, Adriana. We learned that although English-Teaching-Season is winding down now as the school year is ending and exams are wrapping up, there may still be some opportunities available to us as markers (aka grading exams) or serving as proctors for exams. We (very enthusiastically) made Adriana aware of our availability and eagerness to work. We shall see what becomes of it...

We will not rest until we have an income. Mostly because, well, we don't have a choice.

In the meantime, the sunshine is a great distraction from job woes. As long as I pair it with some SPF 30.






Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Job Hunts and Jack-O-Lanterns

Tuesday, 10-27: Tired of depending entirely on our Uruguayan friend, Sarah, Kara, and myself soldiered out on our own today. After some pleasant (and at times confusing) chitchat with Mariano, one of the Fruit guys downstairs, we opened up our gargantuan tourist map and plotted out a course to Ciudad Vieja. We figured said neighborhood of Montevideo would have the most to offer in terms of jobs for during Montevideo's tourist season. Hotels, bars, and nightclubs were the blips on our radar.

Fast forward through some awkward conversations, broken Spanish, locked doors, and tired feet and there you have it: Our first attempt at cracking into Montevideo's job market. While our maiden voyage into Uruguayan Employment may not have been a successful one, we plan on returning with curriculos (resumes) in hand and more practiced and refined Spanish. The important thing to remember is that we tried, survived, and know that we can do it again.

Thursday, October 29: The sunshine beckoned and we found ourselves on the beach in Pocitos with our new friend Popi, her sister Vicki, her Aunt, and her Mom. The outing included some much-needed Spanish practice, searching in vain for an abandoned soccer or volley ball, and a quick tutorial on how to spot young hooligans who are up to no good. (Note: they usually wear sneakers and baseball caps tilted low) We also learned that Uruguay has no system for incarcerating people under the age of 18, so even violent crimes are treated with a mere slap on the wrist. All the more reason to keep our eyes peeled and ears perked up, for fear of having a run-in with some kids that don't have much lose.

Saturday, October 31st: Happy halloween! The holiday is not nearly as popular here as it is in the U.S., so we become ecstatic whenever we see a hint of Halloween decoration: a neon orange plastic pumpkin here, a skeleton decal on a window there...we take what we can get because the Halloween spirit here is sparse.

We spent the day cheering for Defensor, the fútbol team for which Andrea's cousin Leandro plays, and then cheering for Popi at her swim meet. We made it home around 9:00 and got to work on putting together our costumes.

After going back and forth about what we wanted to dress as (We thought about being Yankees, the Kardashians, and even dominoes) we settled on the Spice Girls when we discovered that Popi had her heart set on finding 4 other Spices to compliment her Ginger get-up. So Spice Girls it was! Easy to throw together, fairly recognizable, and well-worn territory for us gringas. Unsurprisingly, I was to be Posh spice. My dark hair and penchant for wearing black aided in the tacit assumption.

We hosted a Halloween previa (pregame) and actually had a fair number of guests show up! After a couple hours of carousing we made our way out to club and danced the night away yet again.

Sunday, November 1st: We woke up this morning bleery eyed and craving cake, as we have been for days thanks to the New York Time's write-up on Montevideo and a spotlight on a little cafe that is called simply Cakes. We checked it out and, despite some turbulence with a delay in the order, found it to be an adorable space with delicious nibblies. Definitely a spot to return to on another soggy Sunday.

Thats all for now. Plans for the near future include printing out flyers (EXPERTLY created by my artistic sister Becky) for our English-teaching enterprise and looking for a way to attend a Peñarol vs. Nacional (the two most popular fútbol teams in Uruguay) game. Contrary to the wishes of Andrea's mother and brother, who are Nacional fans, we will be cheering for the yellow and black. Vamos Peñarol!

Monday, October 26, 2009

Que de mas!

Devoted readers, I apologize for my overdue update. It has been quite an adventure in itself getting settled here in Montevideo. Between battling cell phone and internet representatives, trying to learn Spanish, and gorging ourselves on Uruguayan cuisine, I haven't had much time to collect my thoughts, let alone transcribe them.

I will start at the beginning:

I somehow managed to survive 22 hours of travel which included a fainting spell on the flight between Atlanta and Santiago. Not sure what triggered such an event, but I'm going to guess the combination of hunger and a rather strong sleeping pill had something to do with it. Regardless, on Thursday I arrived only an hour and half late and rounded the corner of Carrasco Airport into the open arms of Andrea and her tia (Aunt) Marta. 4 hours later, we returned to the airport to retrieve Kara and Sarah with her other tia Adriana.

With our group finally united, we got to work setting up our quaint Pocitos apartment (Pocitos is a neighborhood in Montevideo, considered one of the more up-scale areas of the city). Andrea and I share one room, Kara and Sarah share the other (obviously -- their names do rhyme, after all). There is even an unoccupied single room, should a flaxen-haired Bostonian who's middle name is Fox decide to join us.

Our first full day in Montevideo was spent meandering around the city and running errands: Unlocking cell phones to make them international, securing health insurance, buying plug adapters, and stocking up on groceries. Dinner that night was a healthy spread of brown rice, chicken, vegetables, and salad. This seemingly lean meal has proven to be the exception rather than the rule, as Uruguayan food has since been calling our name.

On Sunday we hosted a wine and cheese party at our apartment for some member's of Andrea's family. We used cheese that we bought at a feria -- these are plentiful streetfairs found arround the city where you can buy everything from strawberries to blue cheese to bathing suits to jewelery.

Another journey worth mentioning was the one we made to Mercado del Puerto, the literal "Port Market" in Ciudad Vieja (Old City) and one of Montevideo's (few) tourist spots. After a two-hour walk we found ourselves sitting at a table staring at hunks of garlic bread, bowls of fresh salad, a big pot of chimichurri, and a platter mounted with two types of steak and pork Pamplona (meaning stuffed with cheese). Hands down, it was some of the best food I've ever had. The desserts -- dulce de leche crepes and dulce de leche flan -- weren't too shabby either. All for the equivalent of about $17 each.

We've gone out on the town a couple of nights so far, both in Ciudad Vieja and Pocitos. The nightlife is fun but adjusting to the schedule is rough. People don't even leave their houses in Uruguay until 2 AM! Previas (pregames) usually start around midnight or so. We've taken to napping briefly before going out to dance.

Other things worth mentioning:

-The people here, men and women, are unnaturally attractive. It's not fair.
-One of the aforementioned attractive men works at the fruit store right next to our apartment building. His name is Rodrigo and we love him.
-We have become fast friends with our portero, Ramiro. (Note: a portero is someone who acts as a doorman/super/custodian for an apartment building)
-The Rambla, which is essentially a paved pedestrian pathway all along the coast, is my new favorite destination. I've been running on it almost everyday. It's a popular spot for Uruguayans to go and spend time with friends while sharing mate (pronounced mah-tay) which is a supremely strong loose-leaf tea that Uruguayans seem to be nuts about. It's a little bitter for my liking, but my goal is to acquire a taste for it.
-The fashion for girls here seems to be skinny jeans as far as the eye can see, along with boots. Apparently it is also socially acceptable here for guys to sport mullets and rat-tails, a fault we cannot so quickly look beyond.

That is just about it for now. Unfortunately, posting pictures via this blog doesn't seem to be working out so well, so I suggest you count on my facebook profile for that.

Besos!

Friday, October 9, 2009

Please Allow Me to Introduce Myself


My name is Emily (see photo at right). I recently graduated from The University of Pennsylvania and have decided to put reality on hold (thank you, recession!) and travel to South America for a bit of life experience and adventure. I plan on staying for 6 months and I have the pleasure of sharing this experience with some fantastic travel buddies:






Andrea
Andrea is our rock. She is the glue that will hold us together. She is our secret weapon. A native Uruguayan, she was born in Montevideo but grew up in the United States. Her fluency in Spanish makes her an invaluable asset to our operation. Many of her relatives still reside in Montevideo, thus offering us a "home base" of sorts and accordingly a good amount of comfort. Andrea is known for her easy-going friendly attitude, affinity for chick flicks, love of swimming, and extensive sweatshirt collection which is habitually exploited by her friends (myself included). I love her.




Kara

Kara is a lot like me -- Sarcastic, direct, and an avid Seinfeld fan. Though her seemingly stony facade has been known to intimidate the feign of heart, she is one of the sweetest and most sensitive people I know. She also might be the bravest, as she is the only one of our group who is diving into South America with virtually no knowledge of Spanish. Don't let that fool you: Her near 4.0 GPA at Penn should be proof enough that this brainy beauty will pick up la lengua in no time at all. If all else fails, she can get a job working the parillas (special grills) and cooking up some steak -- growing up on a beef farm has provided ample practice. I love her.



Sarah
Truth be told, I still have much to learn about Miss Sarah. She is Kara's very best friend since childhood and a recent graduate of the prestigious Yale University. I've only had minimal time with this sassy gymnast, but what a good time it was! There is something to be said for a girl who hops on board for a 6 month trip to Uruguay with 3 young women, 2 of whom she barely knows. I am looking forward to getting to know this Yalie better and sharing this time with her. Love you too, Sarah!


That is just about it for now. My plane departs from Philadelphia in 5 days and 22 hours later (I don't want to talk about it...) I touch down in Montevideo and the real story can begin. Stay tuned!