Weekend of nostalgia in Mendoza

I’m so glad I decided to (put off work and) go to Mendoza this weekend. I can’t believe that I was able to go back to my city, my neighborhood, my house and my family from the AFS program I did four years ago. I had an amazing time being nostalgic, taking in new sites and living the hostel life. I realized this weekend that my time here is so full of rich and different experiences that I get more out of one day than I would out of a typical week or even a month at Stanford. I also realized that Argentina is undoubtedly my favorite foreign country and I feel at home whenever I travel there.

To begin with, it was an eight hour bus ride from Santiago to Mendoza through the Andes mountains. The views were incredible—starting with desert landscape, then huge, rocky and snowy peaks and ending with the beautiful sight that is Mendoza in the fall. Tons of trucks and tour buses were making the journey through the winding mountain roads. We stopped at the border right in the middle of the mountains to go through customs, and stood in a freezing cold warehouse waiting to get our passports stamped and bags checked. Both Argentina and Chile are very strict about bringing food or natural items from country to country—more on this later.

We got to Mendoza around 5:30pm and I started getting really excited as we pulled into the bus terminal, the first I ever saw of Mendoza when I arrived last time. I caught a taxi to my nearby hostel, which was painted bright yellow and seemed like a fun place for travelers, even though it seemed pretty dead at that hour. I settled into my room and met three Argentine women who were visiting for the weekend. Friday, May 25th is a big Argentine holiday commemorating the war of independence so everyone had Friday off and I met lots of Argentines from other cities, particularly from Buenos Aires, who were taking advantage of the long weekend.

First I bit the bullet and called my old host family. I haven’t really been in contact with them for about three years, but thanks to my mom and paginas amarillas online, I was able to get their phone number. My host mother Gladys answered, and I started my entire schpiel: “I don’t know if you remember me, but I lived with you four years ago through an exchange program…” et cetera. Gladys wasn’t exactly thrilled, and I’m not sure how well she remembered my (they’ve hosted a lot of other students since then) but she told me she would tell my host brother Valentin to call.

I was so excited that I was going to make plans to see my old host family! I immediately went for a quick walk to the city center, less than five blocks from my hostel, before it got dark. I found a Mr. Dog (fast food chain) and ordered a lomo, a warm beef sandwich topped with cheese and a fried egg. It’s pretty much the best thing I remember eating when I was in Mendoza before and the Chilean lomos just don’t cut it. I spent the rest of the evening hanging out at the hostel and meeting people. The hostel was amazing and the staff was constantly feeding us. In the afternoon they served torta frita (really delicious fried bread) and hot chocolate. Later we had a huge asado (traditional Argentine barbecue) with tons of different types of beef, as well as salad, bread and Mendozan wine. The hostel staff was incredibly fun and friendly, and at the asado I met a bunch of people—a couple of groups from Buenos Aires, a girl from Hamburg and a group of Scottish kids traveling South America together. The Scots spoke very little Spanish and only a few of the Argentines spoke English, so I got to be the translator between the different groups which was a lot of fun. I spent the next couple hours talking with the Scottish kids until I left to meet Valentin at a nearby club called Iskra. I tried to get the Scots to come along but they told me they were leaving for Santiago early the next morning. I gave them some recommendations for the city and hopefully I can meet up with them later this week.

When my cab pulled up to the club, I saw Valentin in the doorway and I couldn’t believe that I was seeing him again. He looked almost exactly the same, but personality-wise he and I had both calmed down a lot in four years so it was really fun to hang out with him. He also brought along his girlfriend of one year (this is big news to me… Valentin always struck me as a player) who was really pretty and nice. We found some couches in the bar area and listened to the band that was playing while enjoying some wine. I even recognized some of the songs they were playing from the last time I was in Mendoza… which made me infinitely happy. Eventually the music changed when a DJ took over and we took to the massive dance floor. Valentin and his girlfriend were pretty exhausted because they had gone out the night before due to the holiday, so it was a relatively calm night. I got back to the hostel and discovered that my room was now full after two British guys got in late that night.

On Saturday I was determined to see a little more of the center of Mendoza, having not spent a lot of time there in my last visit. I got to the central square, Plaza de Independencia, and found a massive celebration for the 25 de mayo holiday. A man was preparing a massive asado in one corner, and there were several stages set up for different performances. I watched a middle school band perform patriotic songs which was really enjoyable. It was a gorgeous day and everyone was out enjoying the sunshine and the spirit of the patria. From the plaza I walked down Avenida Sarimento, the main street for restaurants and shops and open only to pedestrians. I had a delicious pasta lunch while being serenaded by a couple of street performers. The student band also marched by in a small parade while I was eating. All the buildings in the centro were decorated with Argentine flag bunting, and many of the locals were wearing flag ribbons and pins to honor the day. It was then that I realized how much I love Argentina and how lucky I am to be able to see both July 9th (Argentine Independence Day) the last time I was in Mendoza and now May 25th, two of the country’s biggest holidays. I spent another hour or so exploring the nearby streets and plazas. In one part of Sarimento poems and quotes have been written on the ground with plastic letters that were unfortunately half-gone. I also loved seeing the Plaza de España, paying homage to the mother country and fully decorated with colorful ceramic tiles and murals.

In the afternoon I took a taxi to my old neighborhood, and the adjacent mall, Shopping Palmares Open Mall (its full authentically Spanish name) where I used to hang out. Once again, I was completely in awe of the fact that I was back there and every store brought back so many memories. Here is where Valentin and my host siblings and I used to get ice cream… here is where Theresa and I used to order lomos and bring them home to eat… here is where I saw Pirates of the Caribbean (the first one…I felt so old that now they were showing the third installment)… here’s where I bought that jacket… here’s where I got my little host brother a Hulk action figure for his birthday… here’s where I went to the grocery store to buy ingredients when I tried to bake cookies for my family. And on and on. The entire time I was dodging families and huge groups of kids, who turned out en masse during the holiday weekend to shop and see movies.

Just blocks away from my old house, I called up Valentin and asked if I could stop by. My family lives in a gated community, and I had made that walk from the front gates to their house so many times. When I got to the house, my little brother Agustin was there to open the door. He was only nine when I lived with them and now he’s thirteen, tall and grumbly like any other teenage boy. But he looked exactly the same, and I remembered how much fun the two of us had… he was definitely my closest buddy in the family. I went inside and met my host parents and my mother’s mother, who I don’t remember meeting before but was glad to see nonetheless. Later my little sister Maria Victoria (Toyi) came in, and she had definitely changed the most from a little 8 year old to a busy 12 year old. She spent all her time at home on the phone making plans with friends and then running outside and inside to greet them and bring them in. I recognized one of her little friends from the neighborhood who used to hang out at our house all the time. The house had changed a little, but the atmosphere was exactly the same. I sat at the kitchen table, making small talk with whoever was taking a temporary break, while the rest of the family ran around the house, yelling at each other, getting ready to go out, putting their stuff away. I felt a little isolated from the craziness of the family but at the same time I remembered how many times I had been in that exact situation and it made me happy. It also reminded me a lot of my real family back home, and it was great to be in a house with so many kids and so much activity just like I am used to. It was then that I talked with my newfound host grandmother, the only family member who wasn’t running around and yelling like crazy. She was really sweet and definitely reminded me of my grandmother, who is the eye in the storm that is my family when she comes to visit.

Valentin told me that his parents were going to see Agustin play in a basketball game at his local club and I was definitely excited to come along. It was the best of all worlds—I was in Argentina with my old host family, we were doing exactly what I do with my real family when I’m at home and we get to see a basketball game too. And what a game it was. We were behind for the first three quarters after being ahead in the first ten minutes. The game wasn’t too intense as the visiting team started to pull away, so I sat and had bread and mate (Argentine tea, and pretty much the most authentic Argentine food item) and chatted with the other parents. But at the end of the third quarter, our team started catching up, and we ended the third quarter just one point behind the opponents. This made the last quarter extremely entertaining, as the parents of both teams celebrated whenever points were scored and we all got caught up in the competition. Even though the other team was much better at shooting and defense, we had some amazing plays and ended up winning the game by just two points after scoring with 45 seconds left. All the families rejoiced and we went down to the court to take photos of the victorious team. So basically it was an incredible game and a great way to spend time with my host family.

After the game we spent a little time at home before heading out to dinner. Toyi was planning some giant pizza party at the house so she and Agustin stayed behind. As we left, a flood of middle school-aged kids descended upon the house and lined up to greet every member of the family (with a kiss on the cheek, as is customary). It struck me how much those two are like my little brother and sister, and I was so happy to be spending time with their Argentine counterparts if not the real deal. Valentin and my parents and I went to a restaurant called Decimo, on the tenth floor of the Gómez Building, an art deco-style building that is one of the tallest in Mendoza. The views from the restaurant were amazing, and the food was excellent as well. We started out with some delicious cheeses and Mendozan wine (of course), and both Valentin and I had sushi for dinner. Like the Mexican food I finally got in Brazil, I have been craving sushi since I left the US and I was thrilled to finally have some in a place that was not sketchy. (Cheap sushi in Santiago = bad idea.) I gave my host family updates on my life and my real family and I got to hear about some of their adventures as well. Valentin is constantly traveling and this winter he’s spending three months in Hawaii guiding scuba divers. I was pretty jealous of all the different places he’s traveled and worked and once again I imagined a future where I could travel the world…

After taking in some views of Mendoza from the restaurant’s outdoor patio, my family dropped me off at my hostel and we said our goodbyes. I was thinking of staying in and resting up at the hostel for the night, but the mayhem that greeted me there made me think twice. Two groups of Londoners had arrived the night before, and they were planning a night at the boliche (club) district, about 10 miles from the central area of Mendoza. There was also a massive celebration/dance party going on in the hostel bar, and a British girl was trying to convince the hostel owners to take in a stray dog that was pitifully pacing outside the door. (I can’t believe they let him in for a while… he was cute, but eww, you don’t know where that dog’s been or what kind of diseases he has!) Some porteños (people from Buenos Aires), Brits and I hung out, danced and played pool before we took a bunch of taxis to the clubs. I spent the 20-minute taxi ride translating between one porteño and two British guys, neither of whom could speak the other’s language. It was quite fun. We ended up at a massive club with three floors and three different types of music (cumbia, electronic dance and rock) which we all explored over the next couple hours.

On Sunday I got up early to catch my bus. After a quick breakfast in the hostel, I said goodbye to the staff and some of the cool people I met this weekend. I’m really glad I traveled by myself because it forced me to meet some amazing new people. I also worked on my Spanish a lot and got a little break from the isolation of the Stanford program and group. Hopefully I’ll meet up with some of the porteños when I go to Buenos Aires next weekend. After really great experiences in Buenos Aires, Rio and Mendoza, I am loving the hostel lifestyle and the people I meet there. It makes me think that I could do a European tour some time… the idea is so incredibly tempting.

The bus ride back was uneventful, except for the border crossing which took more than an hour because someone before us was trying to bring in a lot of food. It was gorgeous but freezing to be waiting in the middle of the snow-capped mountains for our inspections. When it was our bus’ turn, we laid out our bags on long tables and a trained dog walked over them to smell for organic materials. There were no problems until the last bag—a nun was hiding some fruit preserves. A nun! I also had to explain myself extensively to the Chilean customs officer, where I was staying and what I was studying. It seemed like they didn’t want to let me back in. After I finally got back to Santiago, I spent the rest of the afternoon with my host family eating and goofing off. We all have so much fun together. Fefi and I play silly games and make up stories with her Barbies, Daniela and I sing High School Musical and watch trailers for Hairspray online, Claudio asks me for all the details on my trips and Francis and I talk about our favorite telenovela and our families. I couldn’t ask for a better host family and even though I am constantly traveling away from them, I am always happy to come back to them.