We will take a train downtown to some "remote" location that thousands of Yelpers have already blogged about to get a super-delicious a (but potentially generic and loved only by NYU freshman) dumpling that is overwhelmingly difficult to find and digest, but somehow worth it nonetheless.
We will then walk a little too far to find Jacob/Zach/Manya/Other Jews at some slightly overpriced but seemingly "alt" establishment, wherein there is some kind of free popcorn or other snack/PIZZA (?) that everyone will fixate on but not actually eat until 11pm when we will get ourselves a plate and cease any timid efforts to get drunk.
However, if we do not eat at the bar, we will order a few rounds of drinks (would anyone ever order a round for the table? No, we are Jewish. Sorry! I think that might be a fair stereotype! WASPS luv ordering for the table, but we respect others' right to choooooooose when/what/how they want to drink. And we only pay for ourselves.) Anyway, we will order a few rounds of drinks. Patrick will drink more hard alcohol than anyone else, get drunk, and try to convince Jacob to get a little drunker. Jacob will be tired. Zach won't show. Maddie and Maya and Manya will start with wine, and then get a cocktail each, but feel themselves fading before the check arrives. Afterwards, we'll move slowly up the street behind Patrick and Emily, who will be cackling ahead, looking for a better place to go, for more energetic people, for gay men who care about Patrick's thesis and would find his habitual snacking endearing, for an apartment, for the small lights of their nighttime futures. We will continue toward the train, talking the whole time about where else we could possibly go - too far, too expensive, too loud, too late - and we'll all stumble down into the underground heat feeling a bit disappointed, but glad to have gone somewhere, glad to have put on deodorant.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
It's 2pm and we just got back to our hostel after a long night of partying, a visit to a prison, and begging on the streets!!
we haven't spoken english in last 6 days, but we did meet some awesome israelis... GUY AVI and SHMUEL!!! though problematically, none of them wear off the shoulder cut-up t-shirts. Shmuel demands us to call him shmulik the jew-lick, so last night when we called him shmu he stormed out out of the club and threw his Argentinian equivalent of Singani on the guard at the door. He was taken to Argentinean prison, and we had to bail him out with the only pesos we had left. Now we are moneyless and belt-less (that's another blog post) and hungry.
Maya decided to dance the morenada on the street to collect some pesos so we could eat banana chocolate crepes for breakfast. That went OK until the chubby cheeked ten year old street kid who once played a round of "rock paper scissors" with us in the plaza, and who Maya then decided she would one day adopt, came up and asked for a few pesos, so Maya gave him all the coins she had just received from the slightly drunk viejitos watching and cheering from the nearby bar. Then Maya sent Jorge an SMS to wire us money, which he promptly did, and also overnight fed-exed a box of authentic cochabambina saltenas to the correo in Buenos Aires, which we are hoping to eat as a late night drunken snack tonight.
In other news, we have each survived the #1 worst pooping experience of our lives. Maya's came about when she decided that after living in Bolivia for a few months, she could eat anything ever in Argentina, and consumed raw sushi on the streets corner sold by a hippie Dutch guy who had "lived in Japan, yes, but then I got a bad massage, you know, you know.." Anyway, after eating his sushi roll nightly special (octopus?), Maya fell ill while dancing Morenada (she's obsesssed) in a multi cultural performance at a youth center. Since her corset was so tight, and her heels so high, she could not manage to arrive at the bathroom in time, and instead utilized a side alley way, where a young couple was aggressively making out, screaming when Maya arrived, who then returned to dance without realizing what was still left on the back of her corset....
Maddie's turn! Before the fiasco at the prison, Maddie decided to go to the most upscale and renowned ice cream cafe in all of Buenos Aires, owned by an Italian-German Swiss-Basque family, including the old abuelita of the family who emerged from the back drapes of the shop to offer Maddie a old family creation that wasn't even on the MENU. Yes, Maddie said, wowed by this infamous European woman who spoke 8 languages. Maddie was immediately filled with utmost respect for her age/wisdom/brilliant eyes/kindness, thinking, this is AN FSS MOMENT!!! Yo quiero todo que le gusta usted! The ice cream creation that Maddie consumed seemed very strange, with crunchy salty nuggets on the outside, that sort of tasted like beef jerky, but Maddie brushed aside the thought, until a few hours later she became violently sick while dancing with the cutest israeli GUY, who had Maddie in a crazy bent over backwards position, and who, when Maddie shrieked in pain, dropped her on the dance floor, where Maddie then lay for the next five minutes, pretending to dance while laying on her back as Guy did did the moon walk around her, until he finally left her to order another champagne spritzer, and Maya ran into the discoteca, exclaiming, GUESS WHAT THIS OLD LADY JUST GAVE ME ICE CREAM WITH A COW INTESTINE NUGGET TOPPING!
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Oops, we forgot to write/take birth control the first week. Luckily, we can make up for not blogging, but unfortunately it's too late for Plan B. Since abortion is illegal in Bolivia, we've decided to take a trip to Brazil in anticipation of our mutual impregnations. Are you curious about the father(s?) ? We will give you one clue. It (they) was (were) not Jacob. They (he) have (has) Latin Blood but are (is) not (a) "blood(s)" and ARE/IS blood-y cute.
Now let's talk about less-pregnant things.
We are SO HAPPY that Jacob finally arrived in Cochabamba a few days ago. Thanks Jake, sooo much, for the delicious chocolates, Orbit Sweetmint, tampons, new Middlebury Hillel sweatpants, and a batch of your mom's challah. Jacob's flight got in without a hitch and we spent the first night listening to Amos Lee and discussing the lunar cycle with a few members of Cochabamba's thriving Jewish community under the starlight. What an amazing first night of Hannukah!
We are currently in Rio de Janeiro. The Cristo here sucks in comparison to Cochabamba's, by the way. We met a Witch Doctress who pierced our belly buttons and fed us fresh fruit which we accidentally ate - whoops! Maya swore she thought it was cow heart and urged Maddie to "fucking go for it." Maddie slapped her in the face but swallowed the piece of food whole and then mumbled, "I.. think... it's.. papaya!" Thus we are awaiting diarrhea with open arms.
Jacob is apprenticing with one of the witch doctor's five husbands. He happens to be an expert in Jewish agriculture and radical forms of cat-mating. We haven't had contact with Jacob in three days but we hope he hasn't been sacrificed. We're going to visit the Witch Doctor tomorrow and pray she will not feed us fresh "stew."
Monday, September 13, 2010
So glad I found Argentina´s equivalent of Leche de Tigre tonight.... too bad Maddie wouldn´t go dancing with me! Ended up eating an ice cream alone and then drunkenly emailing that creepy Bolivian guy that somehow got a hold of my gmail address - hope he´s not too offended by PENDEJOPENDEJOPENDEJOPENDEJO. --Maya