World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms sounds pretty promising, wouldn’t you say? Actually, I’m not so much looking for “world-wide” opportunities, as I’m limiting myself just to the southern region of Latin America. And when I say southern region, I mean just that. It’s getting quite hot in Buenos Aires, and we’re still riding out the end of the spring whilst anticipating a smoldering summer. My solution: escape the heat and chaos from this urban environment and reside for a few months in the south, Patagonia. I’m looking for mountains, fresh air, evening silence, and a true Argentine lifestyle of mate, tranquility, and 100% Castellano. Unfortunately, however, it’s not as easy as throwing my belongings into my backpack and showing up in Argentine Patagonia expecting to sustain myself for a good number of weeks. One must be prepared to have housing, work, and not to mention transportation to get thyself there. Of course, I’m referring to myself here. I guess it’s up to my Eagle Scout preparedness to assist me in this process…that, and the help of the WWOOFing website, where I’m finding out so much preparation isn’t as rewarding as I had imagined. Maybe if I just purchase a bus ticket and arrive at my destination of choice, backpack full of belongings, head full of ideas, I will be struck with an epiphany and will be able to move forward with another new adventure. The first step is getting there, or maybe it’s just leaving the current place. Either way, I believe I want to abandon this spewing metropolis, betray the city that’s been a home to me, and return to it when things have calmed down a little bit; I’m speaking to you, Mother Nature. A brainstorm is brewing in Buenos Aires, and it’s looking to be the downpour of a lifetime.

When the time finally came for me to purchase a flight to bring me to Buenos Aires, I hoped to do so with the intention of keeping my plans relatively open, as I was unsure what options were available to me once I arrived in Argentina. However, due to strict immigration policies and intimidating customs officers, I opted for a round trip ticket that would to return to the United States once my 90-day tourist visa expired, so as to be let into the country in the first place. Wouldn’t you know my time is up, and on September 5th I’ve got a one-way journey waiting to take me to Miami. Of course, I was planning on paying a small (relatively speaking) fee to change that flight to a date when I was more certain I would be returning home. After a series of emails with the travel company with whom I booked, it is now my understanding that I am not allowed to change my flight any later than 30 days from the original. With that said, my choices are as follows: I fly to the U.S. a month later on October 5th after paying a fee to do so, I keep my original flight and return to the U.S. on labor day (mind you, I’m then stranded in Miami), or I cancel the flight entirely, the latter resulting in my loss of a flight home and the need to invest more money to purchase yet another flight when the time comes yet again. The word “stuck” carries a rather negative stigma according to its contextual usage, so I’m just going to define my current status as: Immobilized. I’m not through with Argentina, and I doubt that it’s through with me, but I hope we can at least come to terms with the crappiness that is the travel industry and immigration regulations. Anyone willing to donate their frequent flier miles, or some solid advice, please feel free to do so.

It has started to rain in Buenos Aires, or at least that’s the current trend. I have taken this as a sign that the Southern hemisphere is transitioning from Winter to Spring and it will only be a matter of weeks before I myself make a transition from wool socks to flip flops. I’m being rather ambitious of course, as we’ve barely breached the midway point for the month of August (think February in the Northern hemi). But if the changing of seasons is anything like that in the North American Midwest, I should know not to be so literally dependent on the date to determine the season. Thus, I’m using the context of the recently rainy weather patterns to hypothesize the weather to come. July is the month that receives the least amount of rainfall in this region of the world, with the summer providing the vast majority. Therefore, given the recent meteorological trends I can only predict that summer is making a comeback. Okay, enough with the attempts at trying to sound mildly scientific, let’s just say I am anxiously anticipating warm weather. In addition, and this is only in response to my recent interactions with this weather, I should be looking for a new pair of shoes that provide at least some traction on the bottom as I’m tired of slip-sliding my way to the market on these wet days. Given all that’s been said about the weather, I should make it known that I am not complaining. Each day I spend here, no matter how damp, cool, or windy, I am grateful to call this Winter, to call this “February.” I take full advantage of the cool but manageable nights that I get to spend on my rooftop reading by moonlight; couldn’t do that during an evening in a Wisconsin February. A gray day with steady rainfall also serves as great inspiration for a little creative writing. With the help of coffee and a gentle “rainy day” playlist, the creative world is at my fingertips. There you have it: I’ve gone from scientific to rational to philosophical in just one paragraph. What else will these forecasts bring out in me?

I accompanied a friend of mine from Chile to a protest for Chilean students in Argentina. Chile is the only country in Latin America that does not have free education, and the current president promised to change the system but has not yet held up to his word, go figure. Streets were shut down and we marched the city for an hour chanting, singing, and, well, protesting.

After a day of doing stuff, to be vague, I generally find myself going to bed in the early hours of the morning; before dawn, mind you, but certainly well after the sunset. Subsequently, I arise when the sun is high in the sky and the city is in full light, but I wouldn’t know that thanks to the thick wooden blinds that tightly wrap themselves against the outside of my bedroom window. Normally, I would be ashamed to sleep half my day away, or at least ashamed to mention it in a public fashion. But living in Argentina I have nothing to be ashamed of, because the heart of this culture beats to the rhythm of the twinkling of the stars, and life is lived at night. School bells ring at 5pm, college courses don’t let out until 9pm, and dinner is prepared around 10 or 11pm, leaving the population no choice but to advance their livelihoods ahead a few hours and leave for the bars, theaters, and underground cafes after midnight, generally 1-2am (and sometimes later, for those running on mateine/caffeine-induced adrenaline). Of course, said population doesn’t return home until, say, 5:30am, myself included, leaving us no choice but to take our recommended 8 hours of rest when we can. Therefore, there will be no judging of my schedule, I’m simply a product of my surrounding culture. For those occasions when one is required to arise before noon for work, interviews, appointments, or a guilt-enforced morning jog (and yes, these occasions do exist), we have coffee and mate, of which has a culture of its own that I will tap into perhaps a little later. With all that said, I rest my case at 11:45 on this Thursday night, with the availability of another 4 hours of consciousness waiting for me just around the corner.