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The Wedding Capital of the World

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I arrived home seven days before my brother’s wedding. It was fun to be back in St. Louis with things to do for the wedding. I hate boredom. I’m one of those people who really enjoys being busy all of the time. I think it’s in my genes from my Mother. I was the kid in high school who was involved in every sport allowed and every after school activity from Math Club to Fellowship of Christian Athletes. I wanted to do it all.

Moreover when you find yourself living the traveler’s life often a lot of free time comes while waiting to move, looking for jobs and figuring out your next step. Therefore I was elated about the wedding, the bachelorette party, lunch ins and hanging out with family and friends.
It was good to be back after one year had passed me by. St. Louis was still pretty much the same. I had notice a few new buildings and more overpasses on I270. And I had missed the smell of fresh cut grass and even the sticky humidity on my skin. Some of my friends’ lives had changed a lot and others none at all. Most of my friends from St. Louis had been my friends since junior high. I still regularly talked to about seven of them (when I was home). By the time you’re 25 your friends are you friends, so it was pretty easy to go out and get a couple of drinks. I had noticed that people didn’t hangout together all that often. Life was more about your house, job, husband or boyfriend than your girlfriends. And the gossip had become more serious than when we were in high school. Instead of who cheated on whom it was more about who was divorcing whom. We all had grown up. Now life had bigger problems to solve, people had stronger opinions about certain issues and I saw how people were going to be as adults. Sometimes I was sad that I had missed out on major events in their lives, such as weddings or a baby being born. But I was glad I hadn’t missed out on my opportunity to go to Spain. That maybe it was a good thing boys didn’t call me back and I had never let a relationship come in between me and my dreams. That I didn’t get hung up on relationships and forgot about boys as soon as I had realized they had forgotten about me. My goal in life wasn’t to be married and it wasn’t to have babies. Yes I did want love, attention and security but not at the price of sacrificing myself. I often wondered if I’m just too selfish to have a relationship, too selfish to put someone else’s needs before mine, and too selfish not to have my life they way I wanted it.
I didn’t need a ring on my finger to show that someone thought I was a beautiful person, I already knew it by myself (I just gagged a little when I wrote that). But being back in St. Louis makes you question that notion because everyone is either married or engaged. I understand how women question themselves when that’s all they see. They’re worried that all the good men are taken and how are they going to be accepted in St. Louis society.

I was rapturous that I had seen another part of the world and knew that not being married by 25 wasn’t a big deal. A bigger deal might be being divorced by 25. How much time do women spend worrying about men, does he love me? It’s stupid. If a man doesn’t want to be with me, it’s fine because there are many other men who do and if not I’m okay being by myself.
That’s St. Louis for you the wedding capital of the World. The weddings just never seemed to end. Really I was kind of happy I had my dose of weddings before I left for Spain and would only come home for the extremely important ones, not the causal we-were-in-the-same-sorority-so-your-invited-to-my-wedding. I was happy that my brother was marrying the girl of his dreams and they both were established people with some sense in their heads.

The wedding was a beautiful blast and good to hang out with family again after one year. Thankful that I had made my decision to go to Argentina I had an answer to the question from all my Aunts, “So what are you now going to do with your life?”. Teach in Argentina was my ticket.

I figured this time the move to Argentina would be a lot simpler than the move to Spain. I already knew some Spanish, I knew I could teach English there and I knew I didn’t have to go through a program to take care of business myself. Therefore with all the money I had earned in Spain and with about $4,000 in my savings account I headed down to South American on a Delta flight. I didn’t know a single person in Argentina nor did I have a place to stay. I had made a reservation at a hostel called Portal del Sur for three nights until I got my feet on the ground. I figured I wasn’t a fledgling traveler so what the heck I’ll meet people along the way and we’ll help each other out.

The plane ride was long, around 11 hours, and I just remember with this specific Delta air craft it did not have mini televisions on all the seats instead you had to watch their movies on a big screen several seats in front of you. I left St. Louis in August with the temperature well into the 90’s and at the last moment I decided to grab my winter coat thinking that Argentina wouldn’t be that cold. Argentina neighbors Brazil and that’s a tropical country (that was my logic at the time). Arriving to EZE airport in Buenos Aires Argentina I could immediately tell we weren’t in summer anymore and that my winter coat would be indispensible. I quickly made friends with this blond, tan, young, billabong chick. She was from California and had just graduated from college. She came down to Argentina to ski the bowl of Las Lenas. The more Billabong kept talking the more I wanted to abandon my idea of teaching and just head for the mountains of Lenas. Billabong told me that she had come down to South America three weeks ago to ski for two weeks and loved it so much that she bought the next ticket back to Argentina to stay for the rest of the season. Billabong and I caught the shuttle bus into town since the airport was located about a 45 minute drive from the city center.

Starting on the outskirts of the city and driving our way in, I notice quickly how poor and ugly the city seemed. It was a cloudy day and everything seemed so gloomy. All the prosaic buildings were painted white but marked with black soot and graffiti. It’s not what I thought Argentina would be the home of the tango, color, dancing, passion, art and life.

Finally arriving to the center of the city changed my mind a little. The capital had Spanish style architecture mixed with American high-rises. A little upset that I hadn’t arrived on my tropical Island I was relieved to see several palm trees next to the Casa Rosada or the pink house where the President of Argentina resides. My hostel was located about five blocks from the President’s house so I figured the location was much better than the outskirts of town.
The shuttle bus dropped me off in front of my hostel and I said goodbye to Billabong. She was staying at a friend’s house in Buenos Aires (BsAs) for three days and then heading across country for her skiing adventure. After seeing a few sights of the city I decided that I would stay in BsAs. I wanted to give it a shot because I had always wanted to move to this city or visit this city since I was a little girl. I can still remember my third grade class where a woman from Argentina would come for one hour every Monday and teach us about her culture. The country just seemed so distant, foreign and untamable but I always remember her teaching us about the tango and Iguazu Falls. I still have the picture that I kept in my third grade journal. I never remembered her name nor what she looked like but still to this day I find it strange that a woman from Argentina came to my Elementary School off Halls Ferry Rd in Florissant Missouri and taught me about the tango.

I said thank you to the shuttle bus driver and Billabong, we had exchanged facebook addresses and said we would meet up. That hadn’t been that bad. Sometimes when traveling to a foreign country you wish you could have someone with you, a buddy, a pal or a mate. But often times finding that mate can be difficult. I didn’t have a single friend willing to pay $900 for a ticket to move down to Argentina for four months. It was inconceivable. When you meet other travelers they are in the boat (or plane) as you. Sometimes you just have to speak up a little if you want to make things easier on yourself.

Checking in was fairly easy. At first I tried to speak Spanish to reception but it proved that his English was much better than my Spanish so we just spoke in English. That’s usually the case, whoever can speak the other language better is the language you will speak in because it is simply more efficient. This isn’t language class, it’s time. I received a dorm room to share with six other people co-ed. The first person I meet was Jake from Illinois who had been teaching for one year in Prague. He was doing the same exact thing that I was doing, looking to teach English in Buenos Aires. Then I exhaled as I could feel the relief come over my body. The first person I met was in the same boat as me and I thought I could do this on my own without any damn programs.

My plan was to do the same exact thing I had done in Spain, take two weeks of Spanish classes while looking for work. When you arrive to a new city in a foreign country you need activities and a way to meet people and a Spanish course fits perfectly for a solution.
The hostel was set up as a perfect design to meet other travelers such as yourself. The bottom floor was reception with a kitchen and a common area to eat meals. Then the rooms located on the second, third and fourth floor circled around the building and you could always look down to see the kitchen area. On the roof was a bar, pool table, terrace and dance floor where they held nightly activities such as salsa and tango classes. For me it was perfect because there happened to be travelers staying for long periods of time like myself and was a great place to network. That’s how I found a good place to take Spanish classes, what company to buy my cell phone from, good places to see in the city and going out buddies.

Putting my backpack down next to my bed a new girl walked into the room to lie down for a bit. I said hello and introduced myself to her. Her name was Francis and she was from Switzerland traveling around South America for a year. Buenos Aires was her base and she had been staying at this particular hostel on and off for several months. When she wanted to go see something new in South America she just hopped on a bus or plane and go. But traveling for one year can wear on you so she made Buenos Aires her base and came back to the Portal del Sur often.

Francis informed me that she was heading up to the roof bar in a bit and wanted to know I’d liked to come. Even though I was pretty tired, I decided I had ventured all the way to Argentina and what were a couple steps upstairs to a bar. I went to get something to eat for dinner then I headed up to the roof bar before my jet lag would head me straight to bed. Francis still hadn’t arrived by the time I entered the bar so I asked the bartender what was the local beer. He gave me a Quilmes, a national symbol of Argentina.

“You know that’s the best beer in the World” the guy standing next to me said with his striped sweater and loose jeans.
“Well it’s the first time I’ve heard of it so maybe the word world is a little ambitious” I smirked but immediately noticing his dark eyes, olive skin, long hair and rugged beard.
“After you try it, you’ll know what I mean by World. I’m Manuel”
“Megan, nice to meet you.” He gave me the traditional one kiss on the cheek Argentine greeting.
“You too, how long will you be staying here?” He asked me being sure that he uses this line all the time.
“For at least five months” I said hoping that maybe he could be my dreamy foreign man. I was instantly attractive to him and with his outdoorsy look mixed with city charm. He had a nice smile and I could tell that he liked me. What I couldn’t tell was how often he picked up girls staying at this hostel.
“Wow five months. All here in Buenos Aires.”
“Yep, all here in this beautiful city.” I replied feeling that I was going to enjoy this new journey to the South.
“What will you do here?” he asked
“Teach English, I've done it in Spain for a year and I wanted to see more of the world so I decided to move to Buenos Aires and tonight is my first night.” Saying it like I had a recording of my plan.
“Wow, I've met a couple English teachers here. They seemed to like it.”
“I hope so, it's an easy way for me to make money and see the world.” I said maybe being too over confident in myself.
“What do you do here in Buenos Aires?” I asked loving to find out what people do in life.
“I'm a student, part time owner of this bar and I work for CTI movil. A cell phone company in Argentina.”
“How old are you?” Afraid the man of my dreams might be too young if he was still a student.
“22 and you?”
“23” I lied by one year so he wouldn't think I was too old. One year isn't bad at all.

His English was all right but he definitely made a lot of mistakes. He bought me my next Quilmes and we had great conversations until 2:00 in the morning. We talked about everything that night. He told me about his family, his divorced parents, stepdad, little stepbrother, Ricardo his best friend, vacation places in Argentina, life before the crisis, the Falkland Islands opps I mean Islas Malvinas, President Bush and Kirchner, taxis drivers in Argentina, women, men, everything. I don't know if it was my jet lag, the excitement of a new country or finely brewed Quilmes but I soon found myself making out with Manuel in the back of the roof bar by the kitchen. “Welcome to Argentina” I thought after I led his hand from my chest to my waist.

“Lets go dancing” Manuel asked me.
“NOW, it’s 2:30 in the morning.” I asked even though a hot sweaty salsa dancing next to my new sexy friend sounded like a splendid idea.
“Yeah me and my friend Ricardo always go to this dance club “Azucar” on Fridays. It’s salsa dancing and really good music.”
“I love salsa dancing, but I’m so tired. I just flew across North America, Central America and South America today. I can’t but tomorrow is Saturday and I have no job and live here so I can do something tomorrow.” I said not wanting to do too much with this handsome hunk too fast.
“Yeah we got five months, no worries.” He told me as he walked away with Ricardo, the bartender, and five other backpackers from the hostel. I didn’t know if Manuel was serious or not but I figured if Ricardo was his best friend and he was the owner along with Manuel I was bound to see him again.

The next morning I was refreshed from my jet lag and went down stairs around 10:00 for breakfast. About ten people were eating breakfast and I joined one of the girls I had met last night at the bar.
“Maria, right?” I asked the tiny, dark skinned Pilipino looking woman.
“Yeah, how are you?” She asked me. Maria had left the roof bar early last night to go tango dancing. She was wearing a skin tight leopard dress, stilettos, red lipstick and smelled like Channel 5.
“Where are you from?” I asked while beginning to munch on my croissant.
“New York” she replied like every proud New Yorker.
“How long are you here in Buenos Aires?”
“Two months I came here to learn the Tango. I’m a dance instructor in New York City so I have some free time in July and August to learn new styles and techniques.” She replied with a friendly smile. I could tell that Maria was a slightly older, maybe in her thirties but I didn’t dare ask her age for the fear of breaking etiquette boundaries.
“How long have you been a dance instructor?” I asked because I saw her dance some last night at the roof bar and she was pretty good.
“Seven years”
“Did you know that you wanted to be a dance instructor your entire life?” I asked her always fascinated by people who knew what they wanted to do since they were a child, those knowers.
“No, not at all. I didn't even start dancing until I was twenty four. I loved it immediately when I started taking classes. So I worked really hard and five years later became a dance instructor.” She informed me, letting me know that it is never too late to begin something. Maria seemed so put together, determined and kind. She didn't drink like the younger people. She had one cocktail and would be out on the dance floor. The next day she was very productive, going to tango classes and Spanish classes. Being so tiny she had such a strong voice. She was an experience, unmarried, woman in her thirties.

The second day I decided to explore the city a little more on my own. So I took a walk down Florida Street, the main business and shopping district, until I arrived to a nice park. Buenos Aires seemed like a good city, the buildings were in need of repair and the sidewalks weren't even but the city had character.

By the second day I had met some more people staying in the hostel and we all went out to dinner. Everyone order the chorizo steak and potatoes since it only cost $3 and was delicious. Some travelers were in Argentina for a month, others for two weeks before heading off to Brazil and some staying a lot longer living in hostel as volunteers. We all were in different moments of our lives and somehow met to share a bottle of wine and a juicy steak dinner. Traveling allows you to meet people that you wouldn't ordinarily meet and share your experience from your home and region and compare it to others questioning if maybe there is a better solution. Traveling forced me out of my comfort zone and allowed me to see how I reacted in difficult situations.

Letting the juicy steak settle in my stomach we all got into a taxi and went back to the roof bar for some drinks. The city skyline was breath taking and the cold air felt refreshing. You could see the port from the terrace and hear the city below you. I soon started looking for Manuel, hoping he would come soon. By midnight I assumed that he wouldn't be stopping by the bar and the friends I had gone to dinner with were going to leave to go to a club. Before leaving I decided to visit the bartender Ricardo and talk to him about last night, but really just trying to figure out where Manuel was.

“How was the Salsa dancing last night” I asked Ricardo with a smile trying to look as cute as possible.
“Really fun, we had a blast.” I could already tell that his English was better than Manuel's.
“Are you guys going again tonight, to that sugar club?”
“No, it's only good on Friday nights. On Saturday the music is really lame.” He smiled.
“Right, well I think we're about ready to go to a club. Is Manuel coming tonight?” I said trying to act like I didn't care that much.
“Yeah he just walked in, he's right over there.”
I saw him walking up to me as he tossed his fluffy black hair and smiled. So good looking, I whispered to myself. He gave Ricardo a hug and asked how I was.
“Good. I met some people at the hostel and we all went out for dinner and just have been drinking up here for awhile. How are you?”
“Tired, just finished working and I'm ready for a drink.” He said with relief in his voice.
“How was last night?”
“Great, we dance till five in the morning and I take taxis around six back to my house.” We chatted for a little bit and then one of my friends told me that they were leaving.
“Well, I'm going to a club now, do you guys want to come?” I asked trying to sound fun.
“No, I'm alright here. It's too early. What club are you guys going to tonight? We might come later.” He told me sounding like this dream man wasn't that into where I was going so I figured I would say something. I had learned not to be shy with my feelings and if I like someone to let them know.

“Well, I'm going to go” I said not wanting to stick around for a guy I had just met last night. “Look I had a lot of fun with you last night, but I want to know is that a normal thing for you. To hook up with all the new backpackers girls that have a couple of beers at this bar?”
“Megan, no. Looked we talked all night and I never do that okay. It's not normal for me to spend the whole night talking to a girl. We have five months together. I promise you that if I don't see you tonight I'll be here tomorrow. Did you get your phone today?” Making me feel a little easier about our situation, if you could call a one night make out session in a kitchen on top of a hostel a situation.
“No I went to Florida Street and spoke to a couple of the people. I'll get one on Monday.” I told him
“Right and when you get your phone it will be much easier to talk and do something” he assured me.
“All right well I guess, I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye”
Bye. He told me as he gave me one kiss on the cheek and a squeeze of my palm making me feel secure about the night.
And I left to start dancing the night away.

On Monday I started Spanish class at an Academy located on Florida Street. I was place in level three and soon learned the Spain Spanish and Argentina Spain were very different. After Spanish class I soon picked up the English Newspaper, Herald and started looking for work. I replied to several English jobs and one business position. After replying to the business position of “sales” a man called me back the next day and wanted an interview. I like business since at one time I was working on a degree in Business Management and Communications but I’m specific about what I do with business. The office was located on the Avenue Alicia Moreau de Justo in Puerto Madero I asked Estefan, the receptionist who had become my friend after two weeks of living in the hostel, about the location and he told me that’s where all the extremely rich business people work and that if they would offer me a job I should take it.
I found the office fairly easy at 7:30 in the morning but was nervous about the interview. A tall, tan, blond hair man wearing a nice three piece suit answered the door. I immediately felt inferior wearing my collar brown shirt from H&M. He introduced himself as Jeff, shook my hand and led me into his office.

The office was complied of a big round wooden table and about 15 phones on the table in front of every chair. The business was being a broker for Europeans. I would buy and sell stocks to Europeans very similar to the movie Boiler Room only this really was Boiler Room in Argentina. The second question of the interview was
“Are you okay with lying” Jeff asked with his pretty boy grin.
“Yes” I replied not missing a beat because I didn’t want him to detect the fear in my voice or hurt me.
“Now I know we are located in Argentina but our P.O. Box is in Geneva Switzerland along with an office. When a client ask you..Where are you located? We say, Geneva, okay. You can never say Argentina.
“Got it” I said starting to notice that maybe Jeff was a little too tan being border line gay.
Jeff talked to me more about the job and how I couldn’t party and stay out until 5:00 in the morning. That I wouldn’t be able to speak Spanish during this job but it would be a very professional job for my career. He proceeded to asked me more questions about my background but seemed pretty content to have a college graduate at his doorstep.
“Why did you come to Argentina?” I asked Jeff after the interview was almost over. I was wondering what a big hotshot like him was doing outside of New York.

“Polo” he replied, “I absolutely love Polo and Argentina has one of the best teams in the World”. It was some rehearsed bullshit that I’m sure he feeds all the young lads coming here looking to make money quick. Since he was from New York, I figured he had probably done something illegal maybe on his taxes and had to get out of the States for a while. Argentina gets a lot of ex-cons. He informed how big the profits would be and that he wanted to hire more girls because frankly some men just really like talking to girls. Jeff told me I could start work on Monday and I said I would be there. As I left employers were starting to trickle in, all very young, all in three piece suits and walking like they had polls shoved up their asses. As soon as I got home I wrote Jeff an email saying I really wanted to work on my Spanish and wouldn’t be taking the job.

It wasn't a great time to be looking for a teaching job in Argentina. Since their school year started in March and ended in December, teaching in September was starting the tail end of the school year (completely unlike Spain). I was able to find several classes and by October had about ten hours. However only having ten hours a week in Argentina wasn't the same as having ten hours in Spain because they pay was a lot different. In Spain I could make from 15-20 Euros an hour and in Argentina 20 Pesos an hour the equivalent of 3.5 Euros or $5. Now everyone says that isn't the standard of living a lot cheaper. But not if you're still living like a European or an American with going out on the weekends, taking Spanish classes, going to concerts, and living in tourist spots, no. I quickly realized that I would have to work a lot of hours if I wanted to continue living the lifestyle I was living so I decided to stay at ten hours a week teaching (200 pesos a week) and just dip into my saving because the dollar did go far in Argentina.

Living in the hostel only increased my appetite to travel more around South America. Buenos Aires is usually the starting point or the ending point for many long term travelers. They would come with their stories about foreign lands, mountains made of salt, skiing down sand dunes, indigenous people who had never seen a white man’s face and learning to salsa dance of the beaches of Columbia. South America had this charm about it, the Latin Romance, the high mountains to climb and the dangerous roads. South America let your dreams come true, allowed yourself to explore a side of you that was unknown and who doesn’t like discovering what their full potential is. The more I listened to stories from travelers the more I wanted to quit my measly $5 hour job and take off. But I had a plan and I wanted to stick to it so I knew I had to move out of the hostel. Besides sharing a room with five other people wasn’t exactly “making it”. I often woke up around 3:00 in the morning listening to drunk people make out ….oh sometimes you just need your own room.

In order to find housing, Craigslist was the site to look. Often the ads were in both Spanish and English. I had looked at several apartments mostly in the Palermo area but all seemed pretty expensive and I would be living with Americans. I didn’t want to move 1000s of miles away from my city to live with more Americans and the places were kind of expensive. Well they weren’t expensive if mommy and daddy were paying for you but if you were making 200 pesos a week, it was damn expensive. I met a girl in the hostel whose father was Argentine and mother was British. She had grown up in London but could speak perfect Spanish and had study abroad in Buenos Aires. She informed me that I should look for student housing and gave me the website. Then all the sudden I was able to find copious places on the internet, where they were located, the price, and the facilities. That day I visited a hotel for students. The man who owned the place was Argentine and couldn’t speak English. He told me that their only English speaker they had moved out two weeks ago. The kitchen was communal but we each had our own private rooms and about twenty people lived there. It was perfect and I moved in the next day.
My relationship with Manuel seemed to end just as quickly as it has started. I guess you’re never too old to be duped by men, although I thought I had learned if “He just really into you!” Which I believe from the moment we had our first connection and when he told me, “I never spend the whole night talking to one girl, we have five months..bah bah bah”. Even though he had talked like this would be a relationship at least five months and he was totally my type it never happened. He never called me to see if I wanted to hangout during the day (I always thought it was because he was too busy with work and school) he only occasionally called to see if I would be at the hostel bar. Usually I could always count on him being there on Friday and Saturday nights but I guess a couple of makes out session in a make shift kitchen doesn’t constitute itself as a relationship. So when I moved out of the hostel I told Manuel to call me the next time he wanted to see me and that was the last time I saw him. A hole.

Life seemed to be getting on its way with or without men. I had a place to live and a job after one month. I still talked to Antonio over skype so whenever I was feeling down about men I was glad one guy still wanted to chat with me even if an ocean was between us. Because I was only working ten hours a week I had more a little more time to do different things in Argentina. I wanted to volunteer and I wanted to improve my Spanish so I began looking around for volunteer positions in Buenos Aires. I soon found on Craigslist (which began to be my savior for everything) that they were looking for volunteers to help with a girl’s soccer team for underprivileged kids living in the shanties towns. I had played soccer since I was five and I had coached my lacrosse team in college so I both the experience of coaching and playing. Also I believed that sports had profoundly shaped me as a woman and gave me the self confidence I needed growing up to continue on the right path for adulthood. It was the perfect position for me. So I started volunteering on Tuesday/Thursday for practices and went to the games on Saturdays.

I was very impressed with Ally, the girl who started Soccer for Success; she was in Argentina working on her masters for two years and wanted to give something back to the community. Her Spanish was excellent, along with her accent and has a passion for soccer and wanted to help girls in the shanties through soccer. It was an excellent idea but where do you start. She met young girls between the ages of 11-16 wanting to play soccer. One girl knew another girl who knew another girl who wanted to play all living in the same shanty town or Villa 31. Ally then went with the girls to talk to their mothers about having their daughters join a soccer team. Now in Argentina like most other countries in the World, girls don't play soccer, girls don't play sports girls stay at home and clean the house for the men. It was simple as that. So it was very difficult for Ally to convince the Mothers that their daughters would be safe with an American girl who would teach their daughter soccer twice a week (especially since a lot of South American don't trust the Americans after all the coups). Practice was only an hour and half and it was located right by their homes. It was further for the girls to walk to school then to the “soccer field” or dust bowl. When I met Ally she had been working on the project for about a year and a half. Her masters would be finished in ½ a year she was looking for a coach for the girls. She had come so far with her project and didn't want to give up on it now. Ally invited me to a game the next Saturday morning when I said I wanted to volunteer.

The next Saturday I woke up in my hostel cot at 6:30 in the morning waking up some of my roommates at the time. I didn't really care since they had woken me up two hours earlier. Put on my black Nike pants and Mizzou hooded sweatshirt and skipped down to the kitchenette of the hostel to eat some fruit I had bought the day before. I was happy that I hadn't let the rift raft backpackers bring me down as a person who was going to do something for a good cause today. I was very excited about my volunteer position and hoped maybe I could do something like this in the future. Eating my apple I saw Jake arriving from his Friday night and that's when he told me he had to get out of the hostel. When too many people are around it's really easy to pull you down. I had a quick chat with Gustavo at reception who was very impressed with my ability to wake up on a Saturday at 6:30 in the morning and then I was out the door to help coach the girl's soccer team from Villa 31.

There has always been something about mornings that I love. It's quite, no people, no rush, things are still. I had to catch the metro from Casa Rosada and I remember looking at the pink house and how stunning it stood among the withered buildings of Buenos Aires, so peaceful without hundreds of Brazilians taking pictures of the house. I met Ally at her house with her friend and we took at taxi down to the Villa 31. Ally was extremely nice but I could tell right away she was focused. She had goals for the project and the girls and she wanted those goals to be met. I couldn't believe how driven she was with her project. She saw a problem AND a solution and did everything possible to achieve it. With Ally I saw how easy it is to change the world. It just starts with a solution and determination. I'll never forget that life lesson she taught me.
There I met the girls who decided to come for Saturday's game. Sometime numbers were a problem for the team. If the Mother or Father didn't want their child to go because they had to watch their little brother or sister then that was that. Just getting the girls to come was half the part, to have a positive experience, to get out of the Villa and to have some fun.

The girls had the best uniforms around. Ally had done a really good job finding donations and sponsors from America. In any NGO donations are critical. It just so happened that a sports store was going to throw away all their uniforms from last season because they were outdated so after speaking with Ally they sent the supplies down to Argentina. The girls loved their uniforms but Ally had to collect them after each game because if not the shorts and jerseys would “go missing”. That Saturday the girls ended up losing both games and were really disappointed about the results. They were a fairly new team so it would be difficult for the girls to get their bearings. After ten minutes their spirits had pepped up again and they were running around the complex. They tried speaking to me and Spanish and it just wasn't working. I realized how much I needed to improve my Spanish because I couldn't understand anything. Sometimes it drives you crazy when you can't speak to someone and you really want to.
After that day I told Ally that I would be able to come to practice twice a week and the games on Saturday. She told me to meet me at the bus station Tuesday and we would walk to the field together for practice. She informed me that it’s not safe to go into that part of town without a guide.

That Tuesday I met Ally at the bus station and we walked over together. It was my first time into a shanty town and it was poor. It smelled like the trash hadn't been taken out in two months, the houses were probably built in about a week, dirt everywhere and the field was a small piece of dirt with two goal posts. People would come and walk through the field with no respect of personal space or respect to what was happening. People threw trash on the ground as if it were its place. The girls came late to practice and some left early and you just had to role with the flow. Sometimes when the girls would be scrimmaging and a boy they knew came so they all stopped playing to talk to him. I didn't have the vocabulary in Spanish to get my message across, I just screamed VAMOS about thirty times during practice. Besides every bit counts. In this world these girls were thought of as the bottom of society not only by the government but also by their own families. Girls couldn't play soccer, girls couldn't make money out of soccer so why did I blame them for not being on time. No one was looking for them to succeed they were kids that their parents could fuck over because they had been fucked over so bad.

Posted by mmac18 on 2009-09-28 12:52:39 | Rating: