We're Going Through Changes

This blog used to be my Argentina blog but has slowly transitioned into my teaching blog. That's where my life has taken me and I'd love to share my past, to get to my present. My time in Argentina shaped and formed who I am today. And although there are many errors in judgement, and definitely grammar, I'm very proud of where I've been and what I experienced.

As for my teaching blog, this will be a place I come to share my stories and experiences within my classroom. I will be unapologetically honest because this is for ME. This is to hopefully, shape and form my views and opinions on education and what I do as a calling.

I am looking forward to my future as a teacher, mentor, teammate and friend. Let's do this!!

Comin' Home

I sat by a guy on the plane ride back.  He had been studying for 5 months in Cordoba, a town near Mendoza.  He was headed  back to North Dakota.  I asked him if he had ever seen Fargo. He just looked at me and said, "That's not North Dakota!" to which I replied, "Well, you don't talk like you're from there!" It was going to be a long flight.  This said guy was tall. Giant.  Gigantor was his new name.  I named him already.  Geese, what a weirdo I was.  Okay, am.  What a weirdo I am.  I tried squishing my side to the window as much as I could, but his legs were so long he needed all the space he could get, so I slept in a ball for the next 8 hours.  A ball.  On an airplane.  I was more than ecstatic to get off that plane in Dallas and head to customs.  Nothing feels better than hearing, "Welcome home, ma'am", as I walked through the gates.  They didn't even know where I had been, but they were glad to have me back.  I was glad to have me back.  Another line of customs and them riffling through my belongings looking for the goods and I would see my family.  My real family.  Plus, I was really excited about getting out of the airport after replying Hola and Gracias! to my fellow English-speaking Americans.  I see this old lady trying to steer people like cattle in the right direction and I nearly run to her giving her a hug.  I love old ladies.  Plus, I was home.  She was excited for me too, don't worry.  I walked through the sliding glass doors and see my family waiting on me.


It was hysterical in my mind to see my family positioned the way they were.  Bethany was just staring at the doors waiting for my body to emerge like I was a ghost.  She sees me and all I can think is, Is this real life??  Then I see my Mom, who was looking at the soldiers coming home, see Bethany out of the corner of her eye moving so she looks to see me coming and runs to me.  I love the women in my life because if more women had been there like my older sister, Cortney or my bestie, Sierra they all would have been running for me.  The men in my life are a completely different story.  Of course they are excited I'm home, but running excited? Not much.  My Dad walked quickly to hug me and my brother stayed back at the Donut Stand until I could get to him.  It was awkward seeing them again.  It was like my first day in Argentina meeting my host brother at the airport.  Everyone was just STARING at me and making me feel like I was a newbie.  Even the car ride home was awkward for me.  I was trying to think of things to say and it was like I had to start over with my family because I hadn't seen them in such a long time.  Going from seeing someone errday, all day to not seeing them for six weeks straight is weird.  


We got to my Grandparent's house where a real Texas breakfast was waiting on me.  I re-lived as much as I could and soon enough realized I had been talking for 8 hours straight.  My Mom put me to bed and I woke up a couple of hours later not even realizing how tired I had been.  I spent the next couple of days getting used to the Texas heat (luckily my Grandparents own a pool), retelling stories from Argentina and trying to get used to being home.  We went out for dinner one night and even that was a hard time for me.  It was all I could do not to listen to people speak English and try to translate it to Spanish.  Or talk to the waiters in Spanish since they were speaking in Spanish.  Then I changed my mind because they might have thought I really knew my Spanish, but I don't.  It just felt so different being home.  I was really missing people in Argentina, the lifestyle I had formed, and my city.  Coming home was nothing like I expected-it's been better.  Coming home from a trip to Argentina has given me insight on all I experienced.  I have a great support system around me that encourages me to find the truth of what I learned and experienced and to continue to discover things about myself from my journey.  I still have so much I can share with others to spread love and knowledge, but I know for right now, I'm just satisfied that I am finally home. In my heart, with my family, I am home.  

Coleman's new pup, Zeke.

They're just being weird because I was about to be home.  

How precious!

My nephew, Bryce.

Mia and Zeke!

Attached to the hip.

I lovers my seester.

Cousins.

My cousin, Tara.

Terd.

Terd.

Sweet brudder.

Tango like Rango

TANGGGGOOOOO. TANNGOOO. Have you ever seen the movie Rango? You have?! Awesome! Everytime I say Tango I always say it how the owls sing Rango, if that makes any sense.  If you haven't seen the movie please forgive my weirdness and just skip down to the pictures. 


Tango was/is/are inneresting.  It definitely gave me some perspective on my dance abilities.  Every dance session was filled with awkward moments, armpit sweat, and me falling on my booty...sometimes.  First of all, it was hot in that dance studio and I sweat when I dance.  I'm not ashamed.  Then, my Tango Instructor LOVED to pick on me because I was the only one in our class that didn't know Spanish that well.  He thought it was HIGHlarious to talk with me and I would just give him a look and walk off.  We bonded so well.  Then, on top of it all, sometimes I would actually try and dance, not just be a wallflower and wait for someone to notice that I wasn't dancing, but it sometimes ended badly.  Like the one day that my partner rammed me into another duo dancing and I twisted my ankle.  Yeah, that was a fun dance sess.  All in all, my dance skills improved and I actually LEARNED the steps of the Tango and Folklore.  I had to come home and show my moves to my family...alone.  AHH, my life.  I need a partner to dance people.  


Hookay, I can't believe I'm actually about to say this, but I have pictures from Tango that I will put up...now.  Unfortunately.

This probably could get more embarrassing.  

Ivan, my Tango Instructor.

It just got more embarrassing.  Just so everyone knows, I'm supposed to look like that at his chest and be awkward.  It's required!

The Last Supper

We had a farewell lunch on our last day in Mendoza at a Bodega.  I explained in an earlier blog about some of what we did that day, but I left out pictures.  

They seriously expected us to dance after these professionals got up to perform for our group.  GET REAL!

Again...GET REAL!

Laundry and myself.  I mean, Landree.

The woman you can see dancing is one of my Tango Instructors.  She is a professional dancer and dances all over Mendoza for different things.  

Our dessert.

Zyrah, from Hawaii and I became close because our host families are related, plus she's awesome!

Leftovers

Leftovers are scrumptious! At least, that's what I hope you that read this think of the leftover pictures I am about to post!

This is a sign located at the front of the Plaza de Independencia.  

My Spanish class!

Hawaii and Baylor friends at Por Aca.

This is some of my host family at my Grandma's house.  The guy in the middle and the right are my brothers Jose and Tomas.  My sister, Maria Clara is on the far right and Zyrah, a student from Hawaii is on the far left.

Downtown Mendoza.

This was the day we hiked near Aconcagua.  Part of Seven Years in Tibet was filmed here.

All of the above pictures are just random leftovers that I needed to put in my blog. ENJOY! 

Cerro Arco

Cerro Arco is a foothill located at the edge of Mendoza.  One of my requirements in my HP course was not only learning Tango and Folklore but going on the weekend excursions for mountain climbing.  This was one of the hardest to climb because it was very steep and took nearly 3 hours just to get to the top.  So you know what I did? I chickened out and took the hill that was more flat and sturdy.  I get nose bleeds a lot, don't judge! 


The smaller group that pansied out took off in the opposite direction and started our climb through part of Cerro Arco.  It was beautiful and freezing.  It's very dry on the side of Mendoza I was on, so we saw lots of cactus and other plants that survive in dry climates.  I'm sorry I'm not a horticulturalist-I'm just proud I know the name of those people without the use of Google! Anywho, we explored, hiked, and climbed up this very huge, very steep hill.  I thought there weren't steep hills in this climb-that's why I picked it! Nevertheless, I made it up the steep hill and did the old lady mall walk back to the van so I could sleep forever.  


We got back to the base of Cerro Arco and had a nice soup with of course, empanadas.  At this point, I would expect nothing less from my Argentina.  

I love my friend, Landree, because she picks the easy routes with me.  Plus, she had to keep telling people that her name was not Laundry.

The gang's all here!

I look like a marshmallow.  

I'm not ashamed to admit that I had pantyhose on and had to take a picture of  it.

Alta Vista and Casa de Fader

One of our excursions was visiting the Bodega, Alta Vista, followed by a trip to the local Art Museum, Casa de Fader.  The Tango group had to go separately because we had Tango lessons in the afternoon then the excursion right after.  We stopped for lunch at a Director of the Program's house and it was beautiful! I wish I had pictures of that lovely place but unfortunately, I don't.  The only thing I didn't like about my visit there was her possession of a Rottweiler.  No me gusta.  I loathe those dogs after being attacked TWICE by one. 

 We moved onto Alta Vista after lunch where they explained the in's and out's of vineyards.  We took a tour of the factory and how their operations are run in the making and shipping of their wine.  We then were able to taste their wine.  I'm not a huge wine fanatic, but learning how to taste the wine was what really struck me to find the passion in drinking wine.  It's a form of art the way you taste and smell your wine before enjoying it.  After tasting about six different wines we headed for the Mueseo.  I'm confused as to why we went to the Bodega first, got a buzz, and then they put us in a Museum.  Put me in a bed for crying out loud! 

I tried being enthusiastic about our Casa de Fader tour, but my eyes were dropping (wine obviously makes me sleepy-sleepy!) and I was ready for the weekend ahead.  The Museum was a renovated house that belonged to an artist, hince the name Casa de Fader.   It held various forms of art from sculptures to oil paintings but all forms were based on his life and the people in it.  I enjoyed watching his stages of progression in his art and how he really showed the beauty of all people and things in different ways.  I appreciated seeing his art work displayed through real women having curves, a wooden cross that represents EVERYTHING, and his old walls being chipped away to reveal his, what I like to call, late-night masterpieces.  

Life was good in Argentina at this point in my trip! I was ready to see and explore everything and was able to mark off two things on my list of things to see while in Mendoza when I visited the Bodega and Museum.  

Outside of Alta Vista.

If I remember correctly, this is where the wine is made.

Checking temperatures and such.  I'm a wine pro!

Casa de Fader.

Everything.