First, I'll quickly run through the sequence of events that brought me back to DC. Once again, my fast-paced lifestyle proved to be too much for my particular Achilles' heel, that is, my right knee. I must admit that I set out on my Argentine adventures aware that I had a small tear in my medial meniscus, left over from the basketball collision in which I originally tore my ACL, MCL, and meniscus about a year and a half ago. Although I would occasionally experience some painful cartilage-catching episodes, my doctor and I both thought I could make it through the semester with my knee more of less intact. As it turns out, that was a miscalculation. Apparently, the compounded strain caused by the multiple days of hiking/trekking on a glacier in Patagonia, dancing every night, jumping around at a Manu Chao concert, and walking miles daily around the city,made my knee into a ticking time bomb. One would think that the final straw would have been some intense physical activity. Not so. I was walking. Just walking. A week ago Sunday night, I was feeling walking slowly down a shallow ramp in a live music/jazz club and I took one awkward step and my knee just gave way underneath me. And that was it.
The slightly comical and truly unfortunate part of this story is that we (Sujata, Sammy, and I) had managed to flirt our way past a gorgeous bouncer into the VIP section of this very hip jazz club in Palermo (Makena). So, when this happened I was returning to our spot in the upstairs lounge where the band members hang out when they're not playing. As you can imagine, I was feeling pretty cool as I sauntered down that ramp, taking in the scene and the music....then, all of a sudden, BAM!, I was down for the count. The next thing I knew I was ushered out of the club, sobbing, and put into a taxi. I'm not sure when I will build up the courage to show my face there again.
Sujata was wonderful and stayed with me the whole night! She got me home, made sure my knee was iced and elevated, and then slept on two couch cushions on the floor beside me the whole night. Could I ask for a better friend? She also insisted on accompanying me to every doctor's appointment the next day, including my MRI which was scheduled for midnight! Oh, the mysteries of the Argentine medical system.
So, the next two days were a whirlwind of appointments and phone calls, trying to figure out my options. The minute I went down, I knew I was going to have to get surgery. The MRI confirmed that I ruptured a lot more of my meniscus and the torn cartilage had pushed a bone in my knee joint out of place so that my knee was "locked out." After meeting with a old school, machismo, Argentine orthopedic surgeon who not only made me feel as though it was my fault for having a torn meniscus, but who also told me point blank that if it were him, he would go home to have the surgery done, I made the decision to fly back to DC. Within an hour, I was booked on a flight and in a taxi on my way to the airport.
I have to say, I did learn a lot of medical Spanish having to explain my situation to multiple doctors over the course of those crazy two days. Also, ironically, one of my goals for my semester abroad was to observe how the Argentine medical system functions. I just would have preferred not to have had to experience it first hand. Anyway, I arrived in DC on Wednesday morning and had surgery on Thursday afternoon--a miraculously quick turnaround! Although I miss BA, being home with my family through this and being in the care of a doctor I know and trust has absolutely been the right choice. It's now been about 4 days since my surgery and my swelling is down, the pain is virtually gone, and I am back on my feet without crutches! I will have a follow-up appointment this week, start some PT, and make my triumphant return to Buenos Aires next weekend! Until then, I have a ton of time on my hands to "reflect," watch basketball, read the paper, and enjoy this unexpected time with my family.
Now for some reflections on my time in Argentina thus far:
THE CONSTANT DRIPPING:
I love walking around Buenos Aires. There is so much energy and life on the street at every hour of the day and night. I love the colors, the sounds, the window displays, and (for the most part) the smells of the city. I do NOT, however, love being dripped on. Pedestrians in BA are plagued by the individual AC units which constantly shower those who pass by underneath with ice cold drips of dirty water. While it might seem refreshing to get a little cool relief on a hot day, I have found that having bird-poop-like droplets of water land on my face (or white shirt) has the surprisingly strong effect of causing the hair on my arms stand straight up and my temper to briefly flare to the point where my instinctual anger actually surprises me.
EL CRISIS DE MONEDAS:
In general, I am very impressed with the public transportation system in Buenos Aires. The Subte is surprising clean and efficient, although the only transfer points are in the center of the city so it can be a hassle to change lines. Also, because there is no AC on the cars, taking the subway at rush hour on a humid summer day is not my favorite mode of transportation. However, the bus system--los colectivos--more than makes up for it. There are literally hundreds of bus lines that take you wherever you want to go in the city and the suburbs/provinces of BA. The "Guia T" (the slightly complicated guide to the colectivo system) has become my personal Bible. (*Probably the most useful activity we did in our one month of orientation was learning how to navigate the "Guia T"). The colectivos run every 5-15 minutes all day and night and in addition to be the most direct form of transportation, they also serve as an educational and cultural experience. The drivers are INSANE. It's a little like being on a roller-coaster through BA. The buses race through the city streets like ambulances on their way to the ER. If you're standing at the bus stop, clearly waiting for the bus, but you forget to hail it down, you're out of luck. You're also out of luck if you don't have "monedas"--i.e. coins. The bus system currently only accepts change, not bills. If you don't have change, you cannot ride the bus. This would not be a problem except that there is a national shortage of monedas in Argentina. From what I understand, some group of people (potentially the Argentine equivalent to the mafia) melted down a huge amount of monedas to make into jewelry to sell and, in addition, the government has permanently halted production of monedas because they cost more to make than their actual value. As a result, people throughout the country literally hoard monedas. Some small businesses will lie to you and say they don't have any more change and they will actually accept less money for their goods or services rather than give up their precious monedas. There are certain strategies I use to collect monedas on a daily basis. They include, buying a newspaper ($2.25), buying a small water bottle ($1.25), and buying individual pieces of gum or mints which cost under 1 peso. I also have gotten into the habit of claiming innocently that I have no change when I actually do. The bitter politics of monedas is absolutely hilarious but it's also serious because having enough change is the difference between being able to get home and not. Apparently, the colectivo system is going to upgrade to cards (like the subway) in the next few months. People seem to be pretty skeptical that this new policy will actually be implemented, but I guess we'll see soon enough.
FOOD:
The Argentine diet is a source of constant amusement and mystery for me. Of course, the meat is fantastic. No where else in the world can you get such high quality steak for so cheap. The wine is superb. The empanadas are delicious, and at about 3 pesos or 1 dollar a piece, they are still the best choice for a cheap and filling lunch on the go. And the ice cream in Buenos Aires is absolutely out of this world. Believe me, it takes all the self-control I have not to treat myself to homemade helado every day. However, despite it's standout specialties, the traditional Argentine diet is very quirky. To begin, there seems to be a national rule that applies at every meal--if it's savory serve it with ham, if its sweet, serve it with dulce de leche. Those are your two options. Seriously. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, if it's not coated, filled, or topped with ham and cheese, it must be coated, filled, or topped with dulce de leche. Ham and dulce de leche are national obsessions. Multiple varieties of Alfajores (intense chocolate sandwich cookies filled with a thick layer of dulce de leche) line the shelves of every kiosk, drug store, coffee shop, and supermercado. If you ask any Argentine what their favorite desert is, the answer will without question be anything with dulce de leche. Favorite afternoon snack? Definitely an alfajor. I am not a huge fan of dulce de leche, thank god, because if I liked it, I might be the size of a whale after six months. With regards to ham, I can't quite put my finger on why Argentine's are so proud of their ham. I mean, it's quality ham, I'm sure, but it's just ham. And it is EVERYWHERE. Ham and cheese tostadas for breakfast. Ham and cheese panini or empanadas for lunch. Ham and cheese pizza for dinner. Ham and cheese filled ravioli. Ham and cheese omelets. You get the point. You could actually play a pretty fun drinking game with a typical cafe or restaurant menu and the number of items they offer which included ham and cheese. There are also a lot of fresh fruit and vegetable stands which sell delicious produce and I have made it my personal challenge to seek out as many cafes/restaurants with good salads as I can find. I even found a few with good and cheap salad bars. Empanadas are great (especially late night) but 3 times a day, and the term "gordita" would no longer be used only as a term of endearment :)
I happen to live with a woman who is extremely health conscious and who (because of her blood pressure) is on a NO SALT diet. While I could not be happier that she buys partially skimmed milk, fresh fruits and vegetables and multi-grain bread, I have never before realized just how much of a difference a little salt can make. I may have to bring a little salt shaker back with me and sneak a few shakes onto my food when my host mother is not looking!
OK, I am going to sign off for now. In the next few days I will make it through my whole list of quirks and observations. Stay tuned!
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