Iguazu!
So the stories continue:
Iguazu Falls: We had just finished a rocking Festival of Nations performance in which we recreated various movies scenes: Titanic, Mission Impossible, Alladin, Star Wars, Terminator, Forest Gump I still believe that, for better or worse, entertainment is the US's biggest export so it fit. Kim and Sam did the whole boat scene from Titanic, Eric did a light saber fight for Star Wars, Sam descended from the ceiling while us girls crept about him looking very stealthlike, and Joel played Forest running by on the stage numerous times with various characters picked up along the way (Alicia as Princess Lea, Helen as Jasmine, etc.). We ended by singing "God Bless America" all together. Just as we finished Josh busted up through the stage using a floor door. He was wielding a fake gun, leather jacket, and sunglasses. And as we all ran off the stage he boomed, "I'll be back" in perfect Scwartzanegger form.
And with that I've got to fill out a FAFSA form, so I'll be back.
I'm back.
So anyhoo, we were again driving all night, but this time a la bus. All I can really remember was watching the video of our performance on my video camera that the president of the university, Susy's husband, had been so kind to film for me. And I sang a lot of Shania Twain songs with Heather and had a great conversation about the depth of The Truman show with one of the Argentine sponsors on our trip (Drat. I forget his name, but he was in his late twenties and worked in the cafeteria. He was not, however, the cafe Nazi. There was this anal man who would always make us go back to the dorm if we were wearing flip-flops in the cafeteria. It was ridiculous.)
As the sun rose we stopped at the Jesuit Ruins in Misiones. If anyone has seen movie The Mission (I highly recommend it), this was one of the actual Jesuit missions from back in the day. On the walls they still have the schedule of every little activity they would have planned out for the day. There were all sorts of niches and broken down walls, and amongst them grow the trees from whence one gets the Argentine staple, yerba mate.
Continuing on we finally arrived at the Brazilian side of Iguazu Falls. We stayed at an Adventist summer camp with bunk beds, a cafeteria, and lots of critters. The location could not have been much better. The palm hearts and fruit were stellar as well.
For the next two days we explored the Brazilian side--the side with the view and the Argentine side--the side that gets one up close to the falls. At one part on the Brazilian side one can still get quite close. We were able to peer down into the garganta del diablo, "devil's throat." I had Chenoa sing "Hallelujas" by Chris Rice for my camera amongst the mist and rainbows. It was magical.
While we had been able to walk on platforms above the falls near the devil's throat, we were also able to get right into the bottom of the falls by boat. After a short ride through butterfly filled woods, we embarked on a barquito that sped up the tumultuous river under the falls. Our boat captain then proceeded to drench us under waterfalls close the the garganta del diablo. All of us, including Susy, screamed with glee and chanted "mais uma veis" which translated means something close to "one more time!" He conceeded to our pleas. We felt we had truly experienced Iguazu on all levels. But we went even farther by walking all of the sidewalks on the Argentine side of the falls. They also have a train that we took at night to look at the garganta del diablo in the full moon light. So, we saw the falls above, below, near, far, in the day, and at night (last year I also saw them from above during my first ever helicopter ride).
Beyond the falls we went to a fantastic bird park in which my two favorite birds were coupled together: the purple galinule and the scarlet ibis. We were also around birds tame enough so that we could touch toucans' beaks and macaws sat on our shoulders.
Much stranger than the tame birds was the fish park. Sadly the place no longer exists, because it had one of the most fascinating things I have witnessed. A guy waded in a pool full of goi fish and rang a bell. The fish swarmed him and even, seriously, jumped into his hands. He would then feed them with a massive baby bottle. He let us try feeding them, and suprisingly the fish had strong sucking power.
Our last activity was visiting Itaipu Dam, one of the biggest dams in the world. I believe it borders Paraguay and Brazil. Although it is massive and a great feat of human engineering, the falls, godly engineering, possess much more of my deep impressions from the trip.
The Nashville Country Music 1/2 Marathon
I am now half-marathoned spoiled. Every mile was so entertaining with a different genre of music played by a live band. My favorite was when I jogged passed a group playing "Red Neck Women," and everyone around me yelled, "Hell, yeah" together.
The Alejandro Sanz Project
|
Labels:
art
I've been attempting some translation for practice. I know that some of you went to Argentina so you might find it interesting to take a stab at bettering some of these translations. If anyone has any corrections or ideas, I'd love to hear from you.
"You Don't Have Soul" (Tu no tienes alma)
You don't have soul (or You are pitiless, you are heartless),
And I don't have the courage to watch you leave
As if nothing will happen.
You don't have the desire,
And I die to give you the strength that is needed
You don't have the right to tell us goodbye
And I don't have the right to tell you no,
If you don't have the desire, I don't have anything
Tell me if you have finally seen
That life ends
Look, don't make up things,
People pass by
Things pass by
They pass by so quickly
How do have the nerve to abandon the battle
And how do you have the gall (face?)
How can you leave yourself and look at us in the eyes
As if nothing will happen, nothing, nothing, nothing
I will continue inventing
Without stopping in the details;
Each day another motive to wait for dawn.
I will continue yelling, that not even the sky was sufficient,
To forget you. Give me a soul
That doesn't know anything of your hands.
You are pitiless,
You tiredly abandon yourself to a destiny that marks you.
You don't have a longer life than I have
And I don't have the key to close the pain,
If you are heartless, I don't have anything.
Tell me if you see somewhere an opening and you escape,
Look, don't make up things
People pass by,
Things pass by,
They pass by so rapidly.
I'm sick of hearing you say that life is very long.
Look, don't make things up
People pass by,
Things pass by,
They pass by so quickly.
"Tu no tienes alma"
Tú no tienes alma,
Y yo no tengo valor para ver como te marchas,
Como si no pasara nada.
Tú no tienes ganas,
Y yo me muero por darte las fuerzas que hagan falta.
Tú no tienes derecho a decirnos adios
Y yo no tengo el derecho a decirte que no,
Si no tienes ganas... yo no tengo nada
Dime si has visto por fin
Que una vida te basta,
Mira, no inventes,
Pasa la gente,
Pasan las cosas,
Pasan tan rapidamente.
Cómo tienes cara de abandonar la batalla,
Y cómo tienes cara, cómo puedes dejarte y mirarnos a los ojos
Como si no pasara nada, nada, nada
Seguiré inventando,
Sin pararme en los detalles;
Cada día otro motivo pa' esperar al alba.
Seguiré gritando, que ni el cielo fue bastante,
Pa' olvidarte dame un alma
Que no sepa nada de tus manos.
Tú no tienes alma,
Te abandonas cansada a un destino que te marca.
Tú no tienes la vida más tiempo que yo
Y yo no tengo la llave que cierra el dolor,
Si no tienes alma yo no tengo nada...
Dime si ves por ahí un espacio y te escapas,
Mira no inventes,
Pasa la gente,
Pasan las cosas,
Pasan tan rapidamente.
Harto de oirte decir que la vida es muy larga,
Mira no inventes,
Pasa la gente,
Pasan las cosas,
Pasan tan rapidamente.
"Todo es de color" (Everything is Colorful)
Everybody tells their woes
Asking for understanding
Those who tell of their happiness
Don’t understand those that suffer
God of the infinite spaces
You that has peace in Your hands
I supplicate that you pour it out
And teach them to love my brothers
Of what happens in the world
By God, I don’t understand anything
The thorn always screaming
And the flower always silent
I wish that the flower would yell
And that the thorn would be quiet
And all that is of my enemy
That he would be my brother
Let’s follow that path
To see what light we find
That light that is on earth
And that men put out
God of infinite spaces
You that has peace in your hands
Spill it out God, I entreat you
And teach them to love my brothers
And teach them the beauty of life
And to be comfort for all of the wounds
And to love all of the earth with white love
And to always look for peace, God
And to hate war
And in that garden have entered
Four men in competition
Without compassion they have taken
The rose that I loved
And then scorned her
And who can show me
That Christ wasn’t a gypsy
And that he didn’t know how to sing?
The flowers on your balcony
Cry to see you.
That is what I know.
"Todo es de color"
Todo el mundo cuenta sus penas
pidiendo la comprensión
quien cuenta sus alegrías
no comprende al que sufrió
Señor de los espacios infinitos
tu que tienes la paz entre las manos
derrámala Señor te lo suplico
y enséñales a amar a mis hermanos
De lo que pasa en el mundo
por Dios que no entiendo "na"
el cardo siempre gritando
y la flor siempre "callá"
Que grite la flor
y que se calle el cardo
y todo aquel que sea mi enemigo
que sea mi hermano
Vayamos por esa senda
a ver que luz encontramos
esa luz que esta en la tierra
y que los hombres apagamos
Señor de los espacios infinitos
tu que tienes la paz entre las manos
derrámala Señor te lo suplico
y enséñales a amar a mis hermanos
Y enséñales lo bello de la vida
y a ser consuelo en todas las heridas
y amar con blanco amor toda la tierra
y buscar siempre la paz, Señor
y odiar la guerra
Y en aquel jardín han "entrao"
cuatro hombres ha porfía
y sin compasión se han "llevao"
la rosa que yo quería
y luego la han "despreciao"
Y quien me puede demostrar
que Cristo no fue gitano
ni que sabía cantar
Las flores de tu balcon
lloran por verte
que lo se yo
"Corazon Partio" (Broken Heart)
You shiver for this broken heart
Shivering from cold
You shiver for this broken heart
For this heart
Already you see, that there is not two without three
That life comes and goes and that it doesn’t stop.
What do I know? Lie to me although it’s like that
Tell me something remains between the two of us
That in your room the sun never comes up
Neither does time exist, nor pain.
Take me if you want to get lost without a destination, without a reason.
I already know that a heart that doesn’t see is a heart that doesn’t feel or a heart that lies to you about love. But, you know that in the bottom of my soul continues that pain believing in you. What happened to the hope and the beauty that is to live?
Why did you cure me when I was hurt if today you leave me again with a broken heart?
Who will give me their emotions? Who will ask me to never abandon them? Who will cover me tonight if it’s cold? Who will cure my broken heart? Who will fill this January with springtime and bring down the moon so we can play? Tell me, if you leave, tell me, my heart, who will cure my broken heart?
So only that is excess for you
Never was to share, but rather for charity, love.
If you don’t know it, I’ll tell you.
After the storm, comes the calm
But I know that after you there is nothing.
Why did you cure me when I was hurt if today you leave me again with a broken heart?
Who will give me their emotions? Who will ask me to never abandon them? Who will cover me tonight if it’s cold? Who will cure my broken heart? Who will fill this January with springtime and bring down the moon so we can play? Tell me, if you leave, tell me, my heart, who will cure my broken heart?
"Corazón partío"
Tiritas pa este corazón partío. Tiri-ti-tando de frío. Tiritas pa este corazón partío, pa este corazón.
Ya lo ves, que no hay dos sin tres, que la vida va y viene y que no se detiene... Y, qué sé yo, pero miénteme aunque sea, dime que algo queda entre nosotros dos, que en tu habitación nunca sale el sol, ni existe el tiempo, ni el dolor.
Llévame si quieres a perder, a ningún destino, sin ningún por qué.
Ya lo sé, que corazón que no ve es corazón que no siente, o corazón que te miente amor. Pero, sabes que en lo más profundo de mi alma sigue aquel dolor por creer en ti ¿qué fue de la ilusión y de lo bello que es vivir?
Para qué me curaste cuando estaba herío si hoy me dejas de nuevo con el corazón partío.
¿Quién me va a entregar sus emociones? ¿Quién me va a pedir que nunca le abandone? ¿Quién me tapará esta noche si hace frío? ¿Quién me va a curar el corazón partío? ¿Quién llenará de primaveras este enero, y bajará la luna para que juguemos? Dime, si tú te vas, dime cariño mío, ¿quién me va a curar el corazón partío?
Tan solamente aquello que te sobra,
nunca fue compartir sino dar limosna, amor.
Si no lo sabes tu, te lo digo yo.
Después de la tormenta siempre viene la calma,
pero sé que después de ti,
después de ti no hay nada.
"Amiga mia" (My Friend) (this translation needs some help for sure!)
My friend, I know that you only live for him, that he knows it too, but he doesn’t see you like I do. To supplicate to my mouth that says that has confessed between drinks that it’s with your skin with which it dreams at night and goes crazy with each button that you undo thinking of your hands. He hasn’t seen you tremble, hoping for a word, some gesture, a hug. He hasn’t seen you like I have breathing with small wide open eyes to listen to me say it. Oh my friend. I know it and he does too.
My friend, I don’t know what to say nor what to do to see you happy. I wish that I could send to the soul or freedom, that is what he is missing to fill your pockets of won wars, of renewed dreams and hopes. I want to give you poetry; you think I am spreading the news.
My friend, I hope some day listening to my song suddenly you understand that what I never wanted was to tell your story because it could be moving but, forgive me, it’s not intelligence, nor is it wisdom; it is my way to say things.
My friend, princess of a never-ending story.
My friend, I only pretend that you tell with me.
My friend, let’s see if one of these days I finally learn to talk
Without having to beat around the bush, that all of this story is important to me
Because you are my friend.
Amiga Mia
Amiga mia, lo se, solo vives por el,
Que lo sabe tambien, pero el no te ve
Como yo suplicarle a mi boca que diga
Que me ha confesado entre copas,
Que es con tu piel con quien suenia de noche
Y que enloquece con cada boton que
Te desabrochas pensando en en sus manos.
El no te ha visto temblar, esperando
Una palabra, algun gesto un abrazo.
El no te ve como yo suspirando,
Con los ojitos abiertos de par en par,
Escucharle nombrarle.
!ay amiga mia lo se y el tambien.
Amiga mia no se que decir
Ni que hacer para verte feliz
Ojala pudiera mandar
En el alma o en la libertad
Que es lo que a el le hace falta
Llenarte los bolsillos de guerras ganadas
De suenios e ilusiones renovadas
Yo quiero regalarte una poesia
Tu piensas que estoy dando las noticias.
Amiga mia, ojala algun dia escuchando mi cancion
De pronto, entiendas lo que nunca quise
Fue contar tu historia
Porque pudiera resultar conmovedora
Pero perdona amiga mia
No es la inteligencia ni la sabiduria
Esta es mi manera de decir las cosas
No es que sea mi trabajo es que es mi idioma.
Amiga mia princesa de un cuento infinito
Amiga mia, tan solo pretendo que cuentes conmigo
Amiga mia, a ver si uno de estos dias
Por fin aprendo a hablar
Sin tener que dar tantos rodeos
Que toda esta historia me importa
Porque eres mi amiga
Amiga mia lo se solo vives por el
Que lo sabe tambien pero el no te ve
Como yo, suplicarle a mi boca que diga
Que me ha confesado entre copas
Que es con tu pie
Con quien suea de noche...
Amiga mia, no se que decir
Ni que hacer para verte feliz
Ojala pudiera mandar en el alma
O en la libertad
Que es lo que a el le hace falta
Llenarte los bolsillos de guerras ganadas
De suenos e ilusiones renovadas
Yo quiero regalarte una poesia
Tu piensas que estoy dando las noticias
Amiga mia, princesa de un cuento infinito
Amiga mia, tan solo pretendo que cuentes conmigo
Amiga mia, a ver si uno de estos dias
Por fin aprendo a hablar
Sin tener que dar tantos rodeos
Que toda esta historia me importa
Porque eres mia amiga
Amiga mia...
"You Don't Have Soul" (Tu no tienes alma)
You don't have soul (or You are pitiless, you are heartless),
And I don't have the courage to watch you leave
As if nothing will happen.
You don't have the desire,
And I die to give you the strength that is needed
You don't have the right to tell us goodbye
And I don't have the right to tell you no,
If you don't have the desire, I don't have anything
Tell me if you have finally seen
That life ends
Look, don't make up things,
People pass by
Things pass by
They pass by so quickly
How do have the nerve to abandon the battle
And how do you have the gall (face?)
How can you leave yourself and look at us in the eyes
As if nothing will happen, nothing, nothing, nothing
I will continue inventing
Without stopping in the details;
Each day another motive to wait for dawn.
I will continue yelling, that not even the sky was sufficient,
To forget you. Give me a soul
That doesn't know anything of your hands.
You are pitiless,
You tiredly abandon yourself to a destiny that marks you.
You don't have a longer life than I have
And I don't have the key to close the pain,
If you are heartless, I don't have anything.
Tell me if you see somewhere an opening and you escape,
Look, don't make up things
People pass by,
Things pass by,
They pass by so rapidly.
I'm sick of hearing you say that life is very long.
Look, don't make things up
People pass by,
Things pass by,
They pass by so quickly.
"Tu no tienes alma"
Tú no tienes alma,
Y yo no tengo valor para ver como te marchas,
Como si no pasara nada.
Tú no tienes ganas,
Y yo me muero por darte las fuerzas que hagan falta.
Tú no tienes derecho a decirnos adios
Y yo no tengo el derecho a decirte que no,
Si no tienes ganas... yo no tengo nada
Dime si has visto por fin
Que una vida te basta,
Mira, no inventes,
Pasa la gente,
Pasan las cosas,
Pasan tan rapidamente.
Cómo tienes cara de abandonar la batalla,
Y cómo tienes cara, cómo puedes dejarte y mirarnos a los ojos
Como si no pasara nada, nada, nada
Seguiré inventando,
Sin pararme en los detalles;
Cada día otro motivo pa' esperar al alba.
Seguiré gritando, que ni el cielo fue bastante,
Pa' olvidarte dame un alma
Que no sepa nada de tus manos.
Tú no tienes alma,
Te abandonas cansada a un destino que te marca.
Tú no tienes la vida más tiempo que yo
Y yo no tengo la llave que cierra el dolor,
Si no tienes alma yo no tengo nada...
Dime si ves por ahí un espacio y te escapas,
Mira no inventes,
Pasa la gente,
Pasan las cosas,
Pasan tan rapidamente.
Harto de oirte decir que la vida es muy larga,
Mira no inventes,
Pasa la gente,
Pasan las cosas,
Pasan tan rapidamente.
"Todo es de color" (Everything is Colorful)
Everybody tells their woes
Asking for understanding
Those who tell of their happiness
Don’t understand those that suffer
God of the infinite spaces
You that has peace in Your hands
I supplicate that you pour it out
And teach them to love my brothers
Of what happens in the world
By God, I don’t understand anything
The thorn always screaming
And the flower always silent
I wish that the flower would yell
And that the thorn would be quiet
And all that is of my enemy
That he would be my brother
Let’s follow that path
To see what light we find
That light that is on earth
And that men put out
God of infinite spaces
You that has peace in your hands
Spill it out God, I entreat you
And teach them to love my brothers
And teach them the beauty of life
And to be comfort for all of the wounds
And to love all of the earth with white love
And to always look for peace, God
And to hate war
And in that garden have entered
Four men in competition
Without compassion they have taken
The rose that I loved
And then scorned her
And who can show me
That Christ wasn’t a gypsy
And that he didn’t know how to sing?
The flowers on your balcony
Cry to see you.
That is what I know.
"Todo es de color"
Todo el mundo cuenta sus penas
pidiendo la comprensión
quien cuenta sus alegrías
no comprende al que sufrió
Señor de los espacios infinitos
tu que tienes la paz entre las manos
derrámala Señor te lo suplico
y enséñales a amar a mis hermanos
De lo que pasa en el mundo
por Dios que no entiendo "na"
el cardo siempre gritando
y la flor siempre "callá"
Que grite la flor
y que se calle el cardo
y todo aquel que sea mi enemigo
que sea mi hermano
Vayamos por esa senda
a ver que luz encontramos
esa luz que esta en la tierra
y que los hombres apagamos
Señor de los espacios infinitos
tu que tienes la paz entre las manos
derrámala Señor te lo suplico
y enséñales a amar a mis hermanos
Y enséñales lo bello de la vida
y a ser consuelo en todas las heridas
y amar con blanco amor toda la tierra
y buscar siempre la paz, Señor
y odiar la guerra
Y en aquel jardín han "entrao"
cuatro hombres ha porfía
y sin compasión se han "llevao"
la rosa que yo quería
y luego la han "despreciao"
Y quien me puede demostrar
que Cristo no fue gitano
ni que sabía cantar
Las flores de tu balcon
lloran por verte
que lo se yo
"Corazon Partio" (Broken Heart)
You shiver for this broken heart
Shivering from cold
You shiver for this broken heart
For this heart
Already you see, that there is not two without three
That life comes and goes and that it doesn’t stop.
What do I know? Lie to me although it’s like that
Tell me something remains between the two of us
That in your room the sun never comes up
Neither does time exist, nor pain.
Take me if you want to get lost without a destination, without a reason.
I already know that a heart that doesn’t see is a heart that doesn’t feel or a heart that lies to you about love. But, you know that in the bottom of my soul continues that pain believing in you. What happened to the hope and the beauty that is to live?
Why did you cure me when I was hurt if today you leave me again with a broken heart?
Who will give me their emotions? Who will ask me to never abandon them? Who will cover me tonight if it’s cold? Who will cure my broken heart? Who will fill this January with springtime and bring down the moon so we can play? Tell me, if you leave, tell me, my heart, who will cure my broken heart?
So only that is excess for you
Never was to share, but rather for charity, love.
If you don’t know it, I’ll tell you.
After the storm, comes the calm
But I know that after you there is nothing.
Why did you cure me when I was hurt if today you leave me again with a broken heart?
Who will give me their emotions? Who will ask me to never abandon them? Who will cover me tonight if it’s cold? Who will cure my broken heart? Who will fill this January with springtime and bring down the moon so we can play? Tell me, if you leave, tell me, my heart, who will cure my broken heart?
"Corazón partío"
Tiritas pa este corazón partío. Tiri-ti-tando de frío. Tiritas pa este corazón partío, pa este corazón.
Ya lo ves, que no hay dos sin tres, que la vida va y viene y que no se detiene... Y, qué sé yo, pero miénteme aunque sea, dime que algo queda entre nosotros dos, que en tu habitación nunca sale el sol, ni existe el tiempo, ni el dolor.
Llévame si quieres a perder, a ningún destino, sin ningún por qué.
Ya lo sé, que corazón que no ve es corazón que no siente, o corazón que te miente amor. Pero, sabes que en lo más profundo de mi alma sigue aquel dolor por creer en ti ¿qué fue de la ilusión y de lo bello que es vivir?
Para qué me curaste cuando estaba herío si hoy me dejas de nuevo con el corazón partío.
¿Quién me va a entregar sus emociones? ¿Quién me va a pedir que nunca le abandone? ¿Quién me tapará esta noche si hace frío? ¿Quién me va a curar el corazón partío? ¿Quién llenará de primaveras este enero, y bajará la luna para que juguemos? Dime, si tú te vas, dime cariño mío, ¿quién me va a curar el corazón partío?
Tan solamente aquello que te sobra,
nunca fue compartir sino dar limosna, amor.
Si no lo sabes tu, te lo digo yo.
Después de la tormenta siempre viene la calma,
pero sé que después de ti,
después de ti no hay nada.
"Amiga mia" (My Friend) (this translation needs some help for sure!)
My friend, I know that you only live for him, that he knows it too, but he doesn’t see you like I do. To supplicate to my mouth that says that has confessed between drinks that it’s with your skin with which it dreams at night and goes crazy with each button that you undo thinking of your hands. He hasn’t seen you tremble, hoping for a word, some gesture, a hug. He hasn’t seen you like I have breathing with small wide open eyes to listen to me say it. Oh my friend. I know it and he does too.
My friend, I don’t know what to say nor what to do to see you happy. I wish that I could send to the soul or freedom, that is what he is missing to fill your pockets of won wars, of renewed dreams and hopes. I want to give you poetry; you think I am spreading the news.
My friend, I hope some day listening to my song suddenly you understand that what I never wanted was to tell your story because it could be moving but, forgive me, it’s not intelligence, nor is it wisdom; it is my way to say things.
My friend, princess of a never-ending story.
My friend, I only pretend that you tell with me.
My friend, let’s see if one of these days I finally learn to talk
Without having to beat around the bush, that all of this story is important to me
Because you are my friend.
Amiga Mia
Amiga mia, lo se, solo vives por el,
Que lo sabe tambien, pero el no te ve
Como yo suplicarle a mi boca que diga
Que me ha confesado entre copas,
Que es con tu piel con quien suenia de noche
Y que enloquece con cada boton que
Te desabrochas pensando en en sus manos.
El no te ha visto temblar, esperando
Una palabra, algun gesto un abrazo.
El no te ve como yo suspirando,
Con los ojitos abiertos de par en par,
Escucharle nombrarle.
!ay amiga mia lo se y el tambien.
Amiga mia no se que decir
Ni que hacer para verte feliz
Ojala pudiera mandar
En el alma o en la libertad
Que es lo que a el le hace falta
Llenarte los bolsillos de guerras ganadas
De suenios e ilusiones renovadas
Yo quiero regalarte una poesia
Tu piensas que estoy dando las noticias.
Amiga mia, ojala algun dia escuchando mi cancion
De pronto, entiendas lo que nunca quise
Fue contar tu historia
Porque pudiera resultar conmovedora
Pero perdona amiga mia
No es la inteligencia ni la sabiduria
Esta es mi manera de decir las cosas
No es que sea mi trabajo es que es mi idioma.
Amiga mia princesa de un cuento infinito
Amiga mia, tan solo pretendo que cuentes conmigo
Amiga mia, a ver si uno de estos dias
Por fin aprendo a hablar
Sin tener que dar tantos rodeos
Que toda esta historia me importa
Porque eres mi amiga
Amiga mia lo se solo vives por el
Que lo sabe tambien pero el no te ve
Como yo, suplicarle a mi boca que diga
Que me ha confesado entre copas
Que es con tu pie
Con quien suea de noche...
Amiga mia, no se que decir
Ni que hacer para verte feliz
Ojala pudiera mandar en el alma
O en la libertad
Que es lo que a el le hace falta
Llenarte los bolsillos de guerras ganadas
De suenos e ilusiones renovadas
Yo quiero regalarte una poesia
Tu piensas que estoy dando las noticias
Amiga mia, princesa de un cuento infinito
Amiga mia, tan solo pretendo que cuentes conmigo
Amiga mia, a ver si uno de estos dias
Por fin aprendo a hablar
Sin tener que dar tantos rodeos
Que toda esta historia me importa
Porque eres mia amiga
Amiga mia...
Ojito de Los Gauchos
|
Labels:
Argentina,
Latin America,
travel
I recently found some old pictures from my year in Argentina (hence the reason they are in my picture section and are four years old) and thought that I'd write a few random memories. Another reason being is that while I was down there my video camera and camera were stolen (actually when I was in the Lima Airport) and my computer crashed taking with it my journal of the school year. That pretty much sucked. I am trying to maintain the memories while I can.
First trip to Buenos Aires: We went for Eric's Birthday and he really wanted Mexican food. Most Argentine people hate spicy food, so we could locate only one Mexican restaurant in the city. It was the worst Mexican food I've ever eaten. We thought Patty, an Uruguayan/Brazilian/? girl knew her way around the city so we mindlessly followed her only managing to pass by graffitti laden national monuments and to find a garden with strange Greek statues. Somehow we did get back to Calle Florida to watch Tanguerra, a Broadway style Tango show: interesting, but sort of scandalous. On the way out we saw the stars of some teenie-bopper show on the street. Girl screams rang through our ears. At night we stayed at a wonderful hostel with a terrace on the roof which was great for practicing the tango moves we'd been learning on our weekly trips to Crespo. It was also handy for discussions that lasted well into the night. In the daytime I also recall going to Boca, and, as has happened a few times since then (last year!) the sky dumped down upon us. Jonae earned her nickname by almost getting run over by a taxi and Kim instinctively calling her Shawty.
School trip to Buenos Aires: I remember smushing together in a van in the middle of the night for the six hour trip to Buenos Aires. I remember discovering Hotel Victory, it's impossible locks (they still give me trouble), the blue spiral staircase, door elevators, extremely firm beds, and waxy facturas or toast with marmalade and tea, coffee or hot chocolate for breakfast (I still stay there everytime I go back to Bs. As. The reception workers and I now have a history of dealing with mounds of luggage tied together in the lobby for days while my family and I galavant around the country, early wake up calls, and finding taxis at 4AM...good times. I love those people!).
Looking at all the main sites: Plaza de Mayo with its pigeons and panuelos, Teatro Colon and listening to the most amazing cello and piano performance (I've been back there two or three times since then, but I've never had the opportunity to watch another performance. Someday. It was so peaceful. Half our group fell asleep; I was mesmorized.). Eating at the Adventist restaurant: umm...I haven't been back there since. It was in the most random building on the second or third floor and had some crazy vegetable drinks. Chenoa, my dredlocked vegan friend, had a ball.
We also went to the rosedal to take lots of pictures with the roses, saw the Kavanah Building, the British Clock (ironically across from the Malvinas War Memorial), the dog walkers, The Museum of Fine Arts (although half of the exhibits were closed), the Evita Peron Museum, Recoleta Cementary, Puerto Madero for ice cream, El Ateneo (the most incredible book stores I have ever been to anywhere in the world. Some of them were old theaters or opera houses. People read in the opera box seats and there is a cafe on the stage!), Cafe Tortoni (where famous people like Borges and Lorca used to get together and be intelligent), and I'm sure lots more places. I just remember Susy, the director, being so excited because we were the first group she'd had that was really interested in all of the history and stories of the city. Eric and I kept peppering her with questions everywhere we went. Maybe we were extra fascinated because we had missed so much the first time we went to B. A.
On the way back to the Villa we stopped at Tigre to look at handmade crafts and a plethora of cow skins. Then we proceeded to San Antonio del Areco to experience the "gaucho culture" at an estancia. It began with a harmless performance of gaucho dances and with the typical empanadas, tasty beef with chimichuri sauce (Jonae and I--the vegetarians--even liked it), and nasty orange membrilla for dessert.
All too soon, however, we were watching strapping, and let's just be honest, hot gauchos in their early twenties perform the amazing feat of poking a tiny toothpick-like rod through a small metal hoop while riding atop a horse galloping at full speed. We were then invited to ride the horses ourselves, which we did, speeding around through the fields. We had to take turns due to lack of horses, but Heather invited me to join a gaucho, like she had, and go again. I did, and the gaucho ended up flipping all around the horse. I had begun the trip riding behind the gaucho, but ended up in front of him. At one point I turned around and he was sort of hanging upside down under the horse. The boy had a lot of courage and gall. We trotted off to a corner of the field and he asked me if I would make out with him. I pretended like I couldn't understand him. He kept asking, but thankfully Heather and her gaucho came by and I said, "Let's go gallop beside them." We did so, but then again he slowed down and I thought to myself, "Well, when will I ever have a chance to have a gaucho kiss me again?" So, I let him kiss me on my cheek, which really isn't a big deal because everyone kisses everyone on the cheek in Argentina, although this one definitely had more gusto then the normal greeting kiss. When I returned to tell the tale, my culture professor seemed amused and proud. Job well done.
I think that's enough stories for one night...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
