Why hotels are a terrible way to travel...

It's been a little more than a week.  And so far, this has been the second best living decision I have made in the last 4 years, and you all know I've made quite a few.  First?  Definitely deciding to move to Seattle instead of Denver.  Denizens of Denver can hate all you like, but until you've lived both places, you just don't know how awesome it is in Seattle.

But you're not here because of Seattle, you're here because of Buenos Aires.  And this little blurb is about how I feel that the only way to travel and to live in a foreign country is by staying in hostels.  Hotels are nice, comfortable places to sleep that remind you a little bit of the comforts of home.  They have all the amenities and services you need as someone who is away from home.  And I don't know about you, but if I wanted to stay in a place that offered a reminder of home while I was away from home, I'd go ... home.

You're in a foreign country for pete's sake, be in the foreign country.  If, while you travel, you long to be home; you're just not cut out for international travel.  But that's ok, to each their own.  The easiest way to avoid that longing is to take up residence, long or short-term, in a hostel.  Believe me, if you find the right one (and it's not hard to do), you'll walk into a warm and inviting group of travelers eager to share stories, meals and beers and get to know you.  Hostels aren't just for 19-year-old gap-year backpackers.  As an American, you just haven't been exposed to hosteling culture.  A hostel is easily the most quickly formed and thoroughly bonded group of people, apart from disaster survivors.  And everyone is immediately welcoming and open-armed.

Why?  Because they're all in the same situation as you.  Every single person there is away from home, away from their friends and family, away from their usual hangouts, and by extension, away from all of the existing prejudices and preconceived notions that would define their interactions at home.  As soon as you let all of those things fall away and find yourself falling into a new place with new people, you will begin to absorb wherever it is you are and truly experience being in a foreign place.

It is incredibly easy to make friends in a hostel.  All you have to do is say hello.  Maybe in a second language, but all it takes is hello.  Did I mention that everyone except Americans speaks at least two languages?  And fluently.  You're behind, get on that one.  But even if you aren't fluent in anything other than English, communicating is easy.  The language barrier is understandable and simple enough to get around; so humble yourself, learn to use expressive gestures and big facial expressions, and smile a lot.

The second step is to go out of your way to include yourself.  Ask people if you can join them for dinner (I've never been refused) and offer to help cook or buy a round of drinks for everyone.  The recipe for instant friends?  Just add conversation.  I went out to dinner tonight with 8 other people and I was the only native english speaker.  There was a Paraguayan (who's brother is running for president of Paraguay), 3 Brazilian girls, a Colombian doctor/hockey player, 2 Argentines and a girl from France.  And I've known all of them for less than 2 full days.  But it was an immensely fun meal and we managed to stay engaged and entertained in English, Spanish, Portuguese (which I still can't understand) and French.  All it takes is a few people who have a basic understanding of more than one language and not a single person will be lost in the conversation.

Besides, if you were in a hotel, would you have had the chance to have dinner with 8 strangers?  And then go out for drinks after?  Not bloody likely.  Because I am staying in this hostel, I know have a circle of friends.  And it took me less than 48 hours.

I could go on and on, but I wont.  I'd bore you and I'm pretty much done writing.  Stay in hostels.  Make friends.  Enjoy the local culture with others who are there to experience it as much as you.

(Work is good.  The workday here runs 9:30-7:30, so i'll definitely make my 150 hours over the summer.  The stuff I'm doing is engaging and difficult but not overwhelming. And I have plenty of time to get out and about and see the city.  I move into an apartment on Saturday, and any and all visitors are welcome.  Not expecting anyone, but if you knock on my door, I'll let you in.)

Es mi primer dia...

Day 1.

And, no, this will not be a daily occurrence.  More like a "when something interesting happens" or "when something I can make a witty remark about happens."  Just because I need that validation of everyone knowing how clever I am.

It was a loooooong 48 hours but I've made it safely to Buenos Aires.  I left Minneapolis at around noon on Monday and flew to New York LaGuardia.  It was my first time in NY!   I spent one hour in the airport before boarding my next flight and I never even saw the skyline.  Which is ok by me, NY doesn't particularly interest me.   From there I had another uneventful flight to Atlanta.  My second visit to that particular airport, and I even had a beer at the same bar I did the last time I was through.  The same bar where I met the first of several Brits named Steve on my last trip to South America (that's a whole different story).

Finally, after a rather roundabout trip to get there, I managed to settle in to my seat on the final flight to Buenos Aires.  Is it just me, or are long-haul international flights a totally different experience from domestic air travel?  I had the chance to compare, with two domestic and one international in one day.  And I think it pretty much boils down to this:  domestic flights are turning into busses and international flights tend to retain a little dignity or sense of occasion.  Part of it probably had to do with the fact that the flight to BA was only about 2/3 full and I was able to claim a row of two seats all to myself.  That, and the complimentary mini Woodford Reserve bourbon didn't hurt either.

But my first ride on a 767 (yes, I'm a mass transit geek) was normal enough.  Movie selection was crap, so I plowed through half of a book on the 1972 Fischer/Spassky world championship chess match in Reykjavik.  Don't tell me how it ends.  I haven't finished yet.  I'm using it as a lead up to the Fischer biography I have up next.  And per usual, I got about 4 hours of sleep.  Coach sucks on a long flight.  Even the "stepped up" version with slightly more legroom.  But since I don't have the cash to spring for one of those suite-with-a-bed-and-a-flatscreen tickets on the fancy airlines, I guess I should just get used to it.  Small price to pay to be able to use your passport.

So I grabbed my bags, threw on my sweatshirt (its winter down here) and rambled out to hail a taxi.  I was immediately mobbed by touts and managed to wind up in a cab headed the 10 miles in to the city center with all of my luggage intact.  Next time I get in a cab, I will either negotiate the fare up front or use the meter.  I'm pretty sure that cabbie bought a fancy dinner because of me.  Oh well, c'est la vie.  Wait.  Asi es la vida.  There we go.  That's gonna be a problem.

I went out to buy a power converter (cheaper in the destination country, always buy AFTER leaving the US) and the woman behind the counter showed me what I was looking for.  I immediately said "Oui!" and she tsked me and corrected with a stiff and somewhat pitying, "si."  To which I replied "Je parle francais, aussi."  Which prompted a flood of Spanish-accented French that ran my jet lagged ass over.  So I just chuckled to myself, paid and walked out with my tail firmly between my legs.  It's gonna be rough.  But I'm excited.

Had a quick nap, much needed shower and shave, changed into work clothes and then hopped the subway to work.  Met my boss, got a quick tour, met a few coworkers and had a brief discussion of the organization of the division of the company I'll be working in and an outline of what I'll be doing.  I don't think I've bit off more than I can chew yet, but I'd be lying if I said I was confident I'd sail through it.  Fortunately, everyone seems very willing to help out if I might need it and I have a few resources at my disposal to help me wade through the more complicated stuff.

That's all for now.  More from this humbled and mildy embarrassed American at a later date.

Itinerary - Where in the world will I be?

Many of you have asked me to put together some type of itinerary.

So this is where I will be and when I'll be there.  Everything up until September 14th is solid, after that it becomes a bit more fluid and subject to my own whims and what sort of transportation is available.

June 8th - Depart Seattle and arrive in Minnesota.
June 18th - Depart Minnesota for Argentina (via New York and Atlanta; hell of a plane ride).
June 19th - Arrive in Buenos Aires.
August 23rd - Depart Buenos Aires for Minnesota.
August 24th - Arrive in Minnesota.
August 28th - Depart Minnesota and arrive in Seattle.
August 31st - George, WA for the Dave Matthews Band show at the Gorge.
September 1st - Depart Seattle for Hong Kong (via Seoul).
September 2nd - Arrive in Hong Kong.
September 6th - Depart Hong Kong for Da Nang (via Hanoi).
September 7th - Arrive in Da Nang.
September 11th - Depart Da Nang and arrive in Dong Ha.
September 14th - Depart Dong Ha and arrive in Da Nang.
September 15th - Depart Da Nang and arrive in Siem Reap.
September 19th - Depart Siem Reap and arrive in Ho Chi Minh City.
September 21st - Depart Ho Chi Minh City and arrive in Singapore.
September 24th - Depart Singapore for Da Nang.
September 25th - Arrive in Da Nang.
September 28th - Depart Da Nang for Seattle (via Seoul).
September 29th - Arrive in Seattle.

So that's my busy summer in a nutshell.  Lots planned; DMB show, F1 Grand Prix of Singapore, Angkor Wat, and 2 courses worth of study touring.  And this is where I'm gonna post photos and stories, so stay tuned.

Preparations Are Underway

Ok, I'll admit it.

As I write this, I'm procrastinating.  I have a marketing final in about 4 hours.  I should be reviewing; but I suppose if I haven't grasped it yet, there's not much hope for me in the next 244 minutes.

243.

The last 2 weeks have been ridiculously busy.  Finalizing the details of the internship for credit application and registration has been enough work and running around to equal the effort of a class all by itself.  Signatures to gather, curriculum and "learning objectives" to write up, finalizing travel arrangements and getting visa paperwork started.  Just a bunch to keep track of.  And on top of that my group for the Study Tour (in September) had a preliminary presentation/proposal due that had the requisite group meetings, discussion and other riff-raff that go along with working with 3 other people on a project.  Don't get me wrong, I like my group and we're going to do well working together, I'm just not a fan of group projects as a whole.

Oh yeah and did I mention its the end of the quarter and finals week has been looming?  Thankfully the final "deliverable" (business lingo; kill me now!) for my Entrepreneurship course was due yesterday.  One of three weights off my shoulders.  Next up, there's a take-home, open-book Marketing Management final tonight at 5ish until I can get it done.  Shouldn't be terrible, but I'm reasonably confident my Prof's goal for the quarter was to stand up in front of the class and talk as much as he could without giving us a single bit of wisdom.  Oh, and my Prof's name is Chauncey.  No joke.  Finally, there's a Managerial Economics final on Thursday, thankfully I have 48 hours between finals to study for it, cause its definitely gonna be a hard one.

And if that wasn't enough, I'm tasked with packing for 3 months away from home during all of the in between.  For those of you counting, that's two totally different climates, working and casual wardrobes and only 2 suitcases to stuff it all into.  Needless to say the nerves are a little frazzled.  Thursday night at 8pm is going to be a welcome relief.  But I've gotta get there first.  One step at a time.  I suppose that's enough procrastinating.  Thanks for reading my first brain dump.

221.