The Great Number 8

Rotary goodness abounds: Last Saturday I spent the day with the Rotarios de Rotary Distrito 4890 at their 83rd Annual District Conference. And, again, I can't help but be struck by the similarities between Rotarians here in District 4890 and the Rotarians in my sponsor District back in Florida, District 6930. From the sunny state of Florida to the romantic city of Buenos Aires (and I can imagine everywhere in between and beyond, as well) Rotarians are hospitable, interested, generous, and above all, absolutely committed to making significant contributions to global civil peace. Rotarians' commitment to civil peace is evident through the development of a number of initiatives: at the micro-level, individual Rotary clubs undertake community-based and international service projects, and at the macro-level, Rotary clubs unite and support various international programs, like the Ambassadorial Scholarship that I have the privilege of being a part of, as well as the ambitious and extraordinary Polio Plus campaign.

Check it... Rotary's 'Humanity in Motion':

End Polio - Rotary International from Rotary International on Vimeo.

In the mid-1980s, Rotary International endeavored to eradicate polio on planet Earth. At the time there were an estimated 350,000 cases of polio in the world. Today there are less than 2000 cases of polio in the world. Thanks to the collaborative efforts of Rotary International and other international organizations like the World Health Organization and UNICEF, the global incidence of polio has decreased by 99% in 20 years. When – not if – polio is eradicated, it will be the second disease in the history of humanity to be completely eliminated (the first was smallpox) from existence. A significant achievement, to say the very least. Never doubt the potency and possibility of the combined altruistic efforts of committed global citizens. Thank you, Rotary International – and Rotarians around the world – for being a blazing symbol of humanity's tremendous capacity for collaborative achievement.

Like I said, Rotary goodness abounds: evidently, given my impassioned previous paragraph, and also because a few days following Distrito 4890's Annual Conference I had the great pleasure of attending, for the very first time, my host Rotary club's Thursday lunchtime reunion. The Rotary Club of Monserrat meets for lunch every week in one of the wood-paneled, regal-feeling rooms in the Centro Argentino de Ingenieros. And, again, I can't help but notice the uncanny similarities between Rotary meetings in Florida and Argentina, incredible, given the thousands of miles(/kilometers) of separating distance, as well as the miles(/kilometers) that separate the United States' pastiche culture and Buenos Aires' porteño culture (a taxi driver once captured the porteños' and Buenos Aires' ambiance with unusual precision: 'Buenos Aires y los porteños son gris, melancolia, romantico y bohemio'). It's therefore curious that I note far more differences between intra-District Rotary clubs than I do when making cross-District club comparisons.

Check this, even more curious: my observation on cross-cultural Rotary clubs' similarities was confirmed this evening, when perusing the Internet for Rotary videos, I came across this gem of a film clip from a Rotary meeting in 1950s Cuba. The extraordinary film clip comes from the Rotary Club de La Habana during the mid-twentieth century – a distinct country and an entirely different era. Yet similarities are glaring: the arrangement of the tables, the podium, the distinctive Rotary wheel, even the water glasses. Remarkable, indeed.

For those of you cherished reader-friends that do not know, my family is from Cuba ('mi familia es de Cuba' is one of my token phrases here in Buenos Aires – I am so frequently asked why, given my North American-ness, 'hablo muy bien el castellano'). I am part of the first generation of United States-born children in my family, which makes me Cuban-(United States of) American. The United States has given my family and me freedom, optimism, possibility, privilege and unyielding opportunity, and for that, she is deeply locked in my heart. Cuba - hundreds of miles away from where I grew up, and hundreds of worlds away - dances through my veins and flavors my blood.

Cuba lives in my soul.

Christina, my Colombian-(United States of) American mejor amiga (and former Rotary becaria here in Buenos Aires – my esteemed predecessor), once relayed to me a story of a Rotarian expressing to her precisely why she was such a querida ('loved') becaria: 'claro, porque tienes la alegria de las Latinas' ('clearly, because you have the joy of the Latinas'). Christina then said to me, 'Natalie, you have it too – you have la alegria.' And, I know I do. I know I have la alegria. I can feel it. La alegria comes from my soul.

It comes from Cuba.

Yet I have never met Cuba. Because of this, I feel a distinctive nostalgia for her – a nostalgia for a place that exists only in las memorias de mis abuelos y tio abuelos, a nostalgia for what could have been...

I digress.

Please hold on, precious reader-friend... just give me a second to return to Buenos Aires, a second to pull away from my passionate embrace with romantic ideas and nostalgic yearning... in 3, 2, 1... (Do you sense my melancolia? My tone – so romantico... Buenos Aires must be seeping into my soul...)

And, I am back.

And, I have to confess – speaking of love – that I really do love my host Rotary Club of Monserrat. My host Rotary counselor, mi 'padrino,' is Orlando. He is the club photographer, always attentive and diligently documenting the meetings (and he was tasked with documenting the District Conference – I was proud, mi padrino, trusted with ensuring that the four-day event was appropriately captured!). The other gentlemen, the Rotarios de Monserrat are wonderful – gracious hosts, fantastic conversationalists, fascinating people. I had to leave la reunion early to make it to my Derecho Internacional Publico class on time; I was genuinely disappointed when I had to interrupt one of the reports on club philanthropy to despedir my hospitable host club. I will absolutely return for a lunchtime rendezvous very soon, and I will absolutely keep you, dear reader-friend, up-to-speed with the Monserrat Club's fascinating undertakings.

Enough about me, mi romanticismo and Rotary... how are you, cherished reader-friend?? I'd really love to know... : )

De Buenos Aires, siempre con amor y cariños, Natalie

p.s. I am feeling particularly filled with love, gratitude and appreciation for man's capacity for extraordinary acts of peace as well as this world's capacity for being an extraordinarily beautiful place. Thus, I have attached the ensuing photographs as evidence that the beauty and glitter I see is not entirely constructed in my mind... it's really out there... B E A U T I F U L and GLitTeRinG... (from the Patagonia collection!)

Séptimo

On my hood, Recoleta: Besos en el Cementerio

This is a poem I copied down from one of the exhibits ('Mapas para Perderse') currently being housed at the Centro Cultural Recoleta, about one block from my apartment (I live in Recoleta, as if I haven't made that clear...!). I think the words quite nicely capture mi barrio and her aura. Accompanying photos are from my personal collection, the Recoleta series.

¡Buen provecho, cherished reader-friend!

Besos en el Cementerio

Palabras que tienen la vida de las flores. Angeles y promesas.
Conclave de ataudes ilustres. Panteon de la Patria. Recoleta.
Esculturas que guardan memoria de pasiones y furias.
Otras cosas hay mas alla de la muerte.
Entre Sarmiento y Mitre, entre Aramburu y Eva, entre Alvear y Dorrego,
grandes familias, vecinos con dinero, caudillos, Bioy.
Obras de arte, como en ningun otro sitio de la ciudad.
Fantasmas a la orden del dia. Bioy.
Gatos. Mariposas de la noche.
Yo ni en la paz de las tumbas creo.
Fuera la Iglesia del Pilar, el Centro Cultural, la Biela, los paseos al sol,
la discrecion de la estatuas, vivientes, el mercadillo,
los arboles testigos de otro tiempo.
La vida en besos, tu amor a veces.

--Reynaldo Sietecase y Horacio Sanchez Fantino

Posten Nr. 6

me shamo Natalie Casteshanos... (Rotary; Argentina; 2010; 'un viaje al rededor del mundo y a traves del tiempo.')

View more presentations from guest418f5a.

Check it! (Above!) (That's the presentation I am giving at the Rotary clubs here in BAires. Minus my dazzling oratory, obviously – ha ha, I jest!)

I am thrilled to report that I finally gave my first Rotary presentation this evening, at the Rotary Club of Villa del Parque. I went to the meeting with my friend and fellow becaria (as we Rotary scholars are affectionately called), Thiana. Villa del Parque is Thiana's host club, and her sponsor Rotarian, Willy, is President. Thiana and I rode colectivo 110 from my apartment in Recoleta for a solid hour before we arrived in Buenos Aires' suburban barrio, Villa del Parque. We met up with Willy and his genial wife, Liliana, at their spacious home and then made our way, via taxi, to the meeting several blocks away.

Tonight's meeting was particularly unique, I was informed, not only because Thiana and I were present, but also because they were celebrating Rotarians' birthdays for the months of enero, febrero y marzo, and because the wives of the Rotarians – la Rueda – were going to be present as well. Rotary in Argentina, as Liliana bluntly informed me, is 'muy machista.' Most clubs are comprised only of men and some clubs go so far as to prohibit women from being members. That's why la Rueda exists, so the women have an equal opportunity to contribute to Rotary's global goodwill. Liliana is very active in la Rueda – she gave Thiana and me a detailed account of their work in local hospitals, as well as their various charitable undertakings, en route to the Rotary meeting.

The Villa del Parque meeting was – as one of the women at my table who informed me she had attended Rotary meetings all around the world put it – 'muy parecida a' the Rotary meetings in other parts of the world. I confirm that the meeting was, indeed, muy parecida a the meetings I have had the pleasure of visiting in my sponsor district, the great District 6930 ('donde tenemos las frutas citricas mas sabrosas, las playas mas hermosas, el unico Parque Nacional de los Everglades, huracanes famosos y, sobre todo, los Rotarios mas simpaticos').

The dinner meeting commenced at the early-by-Argentine-dining-standards time of 9:30 p.m. Like most Rotary meetings, the agenda was packed with news, discussion of upcoming events, guest speakers (Thiana and myself included!) and the spare moments were consumed by enjoying the rather tasty 3-course meal. The Rotarians were enthusiastic, hospitable and were genuinely interested in knowing Thiana and myself. All in all, it was a fantastic evening with the Rotarians of District 4890 and I look forward to making many more Rotary memories and forging many more Rotary friendships during my time in Buenos Aires.



Beyond the Rotary fun, my days are generally bursting with beautiful sights, delicious foods, inspiring encounters and gratitude-evoking experiences. Por ejemplo, last week I had the opportunity to go on a basically impromptu trip down to the southern part of Patagonia (From Mr. Wikipedia: 'Patagonia is a geographic region containing the southernmost portion of South America. Located in Argentina and Chile, it comprises the southernmost portion of the Andes mountains to the west and south, and plateaux and low plains to the east.') to the cities of El Calafte and El Chalten. I went with fellow becaria, Rachel, my friend from UF, Joy (a teacher for 2, going on 3, years here in BAires) and a male friend, with the patience of a saint, Grant (also a teacher here in BAires). The 4 of us spent 3 magical days hiking and basking in the unbelievable splendor of Mother Nature's gems – majestic, prodigious glaciers and grand, awe-inspiring mountain peaks.





Back in Buenos Aires, things are fine and dandy, as is the norm in my life these days. I've had the chance to hit up some great art installations at galleries and exhibition spaces all around the city, have seen some decent live music, and have been brought to the brink of flavor-induced euphoria on well over a dozen occasions (maybe I am weird... but. the. food. is. so. good. here.).

A chance encounter with an Italian diplomat (at the cafe at Fundacion Proa in La Boca) led me to an apartment-converted-to-yoga-palace for one of the best-all-around yoga experiences I have ever had in my 10 years of inconsistent yoga practice. One timid step through the nondescript apartment door and into the warm glow of incense and oil infused air and I knew I had found the yoga studio I was seeking. 'When the student is ready, the teacher will be found.' Truth.

BAires is starting to feel like home, sort of. Well, a really, really awesome version of 'home.' Is it boastful to candidly recognize how awesome my circumstances are right now? Because my circumstances are really, really awesome right now. I guess I say it not to impress you, dear reader-friend, but rather to impress upon you just. how. GRATEFUL. I. am. I feel blessed, fortunate, appreciative for this, for being in this amazing city, with this amazingly generous Rotary scholarship, charged with the task of making friends and pursuing my dreams.

I guess I suggest that BAires is starting to feel like 'home' because my days are slowly becoming routinized and novelty is subtly being eroded by the mundane. My friend Ryan (the only other North American law student at la UBA, self-designated member of 'Team (Latin) America' – it's supposed to be a pun on 'Team America' – after years of working in Panama) pointed out to me that one of the most fulfilling pieces of the experience of living abroad is the fact that seemingly mundane acts, in a foreign environment, are challenging, exciting, thrilling even. There's a lot of veracity in his insight. Admittedly, most of my days are filled with mundane tasks and activities, but each one can easily be characterized as 'challenging,' 'exciting' or 'thrilling.'

Por ejemplo, yesterday, walking through the rain to catch colectivo 59 to Belgrano to meet Thiana for lunch was challenging (slippery pavement + I missed my stop and had to back track some 10 blocks); lunch with Thiana was thrilling (I ate a really delicious salad and was exposed to a fabulous new restaurant); later in the afternoon I met up with a pseudo-acquaintance-turned-friend, Lewis, for tea, and that was exciting (because new friends are always exciting and I really love tea that much); then I went to class and that was exciting (because it's an interesting topic, International Refugee Law, duh!); then I went to the yoga palace for an exciting, thrilling, challenging end to my day. Enough of that. I think you get the point.

I believe I've lived in Buenos Aires for something like 6 weeks now. Wow! I can't tell if that is a long time or a short time. 'Time moves slowly and passes quickly.' There's a lot of wisdom contained in Alice Walker's aphorism (it's actually a line from 'The Color Purple').

As always, I am looking forward to writing you, cherished reader-friend, some more and will likely do so within the next 12 days... . . .

By the way, on a concluding note, I am not sure who reads this. And, perhaps you, dear reader-friend that reads these verbose posts, also share with me this nagging sense of isolation . . . ? I feel like I am writing to everyone and to no one, all at the same time. (If I feel it, you too must feel it.) I don't know, I guess I am fishing for feedback. It's cool if I don't get any, I still like you guys, a lot. Plus, I have a feeling I know, more or less, who makes it this far anyway. (What's up, Mom and Dad!)

Un abrazo fuerte : )

F I V E

Buenos Aires, I thought I loved you the first time we met. Your magic immediately captivated me – your azure ceiling, your affinity for dogs, your inquisitive and sincere people, your flavor, your variety, the way sunlight shimmered through your trees and bathed your motley structures in golden brilliance, your enigmatic charm.

But Buenos Aires, I did not really know you then.

Sometimes you encounter a new person, place or thing and there is an immediate sense familiarity – an intrinsic recognition. It's as if you already knew this person, place or thing without ever having been acquainted. Sometimes, however, you have to really come to know a thing before you realize that you were never strangers; you actually knew each other all along.

I first met Buenos Aires in July of 2008. I arrived with 2 friends, Kris and Allan, intent on spending 3 weeks getting to know the city that had stolen my best friend, Christina. They were 3 weeks of exploration and excitement – raw, unadulterated travel. I saw Buenos Aires from Christina's seasoned perspective: energetic, delicious, a never-ending frenzy of experiences, authentic and simultaneously contrived. You see a place with different eyes when it is cast in the warm glow of friendship. I left Buenos Aires in August of 2008; I loved her but I did not really know her – she was still a mystery.

I returned to Buenos Aires unexpectedly, and only when I arrived this time, with my humdrum academic routine in tow, did I really come to know her. And although I did not immediately recognize her back in 2008, it turns out we were never really strangers. I always knew Buenos Aires. I knew Palermo's cobblestone avenues, leafy sidewalks, kitschy storefronts and nondescript apartment buildings. I knew San Telmo's rugged magnificence, San Cristobal's familiar smells, Constitucion's rhythmic, rumbling streets, and Belgrano's comfortable appeal. I knew Recoleta's ornate edifices and humble inhabitants.

I am living in an apartment in Recoleta, several blocks away from my first home (with my Argentine mom, Angelica, and my Argentine – er, North American and Paraguayan – siblings, Lerenzo and Lia) in Buenos Aires. My apartment is delightful and French-style with a bedroom, living area, kitchen, my own bathroom, a balcony (!!!) and enough extra space to fit a piano (seriously, I am working on renting a piano for a few months!). I am living alone for the first time in my life. It certainly takes some getting used to – my situational awareness has piqued to new heights and I feel a constant, nagging sense of peaceful discomfort. I think these are biological self-preservation mechanisms, or something like that.

Last week I settled on my final course selection at la UBA: three 4-credit courses – Derecho Internacional Publico (Public International Law); Grandes Revoluciones de la Historia: Casos Paradigmaticos (Great Revolutions in History: Paradigmatic Cases); and Derecho Internacional de los Refugiados (International Refugee Law). In May, I will begin a 2-credit course, Estetica y Normatividad: Cuestiones Filosoficas de la Tematizacion Artistica de la Violencia (a legal philosophy class about violence and art). I am pretty thrilled with my classes. My professors are interested and engaging. Notably, and contrary to the practice of every law professor I have encountered in the US of A, my Argentine professors freely voice their opinions, particularly when it comes to controversial topics. This practice is amusing, I think.

Buenos Aires’ streets are where her real magic is found. Every weekend plays host to a series of art festivals in different barrios (neighborhoods). With my newfound sense of heightened awareness, a stroll around one of these festivals is a real treat for my senses. Whimsical characters offering a bounty of funky, colorful crafts and appetizing snacks, always accompanied by sounds of live music, conversation and laughter. Buenos Aires’ streets also offer distinctive smells. (I genuinely believe that you never truly know a place until you know its smells.) A stroll through one of Buenos Aires’ street festivals supplies plentiful olfactory delights – pockets of fresh grass, incense and candied peanuts, the crevasses between scents filled with gusts of dust and the occasional draft of some porteño's perfume.

The sweet sights and smells are made even sweeter because of the people with whom I am sharing these experiences. Buenos Aires, I love you all the more when I wander your streets and acquaint myself with the people you attract. Buenos Aires’ streets are filled with friendly, kind, and unique people. I find it extraordinarily easy to make friends with people here, Argentines and foreigners alike. For this, I am extraordinarily grateful.

Buenos Aires, I am grateful too for the fact that this weekend you brought me my first (of many, I hope!) visitor, Rachel. Rachel has long been my virtual friend, the person that fate (the Rotary gods) brought into my life. We were supposed to have a lovely life together in Valparaiso, Chile, that is, until the terremoto struck and dismantled our plans. Rachel lived in Buenos Aires a few years ago, and when presented with a class-free Semana Santa, decided to hop a flight east to reacquaint herself with the city she once knew.

Rachel and I share a mutual fondness for cappuccinos, Volta gelato, long dinners spent sampling good food, wine and conversation, art, Latin pop music, reading, writing and wandering. The good part of our waking hours together are spent exploring the city and filling spare moments with the aforementioned, as we bring our friendship off of Skype and into life. (By the way, if you made it this far into this rambling blog post, you must be one of the few that enjoys reading blogs so you should check out Rachel’s blog, she is a fantastic writer!) With each passing moment, I can see Rachel reacquainting herself with the city she once knew, the city she once loved, and coming to love and know her once again.

Buenos Aires, for those of us that love you and know you, you are unequivocally enchanting.