New word of the day: "robado"

At some point, all good things come to an end.  In this case, it was time passed during which I hadn't been robbed.  Unfortunately, Monday night my wallet and camera were victims of what I personally believe is "the curse of 2010."  Considering I began the current year by being robbed on the train back to school, I'm actually not too shocked that something like this happened.  Sure, we'd been told all the horror stories of people getting phones stolen from pockets on the subway, wallets from unzipped purses on the bus, even Ipods snatched by motorists while walking on the street.  But I just always thought that happened to stupid, oblivious people.  I thought that I was a master traveler, able to conduct myself appropriately in public and not have "TOURIST" plastered on my forehead.  Clearly, I was wrong, either about the typical robbery victim, or the perception I have about my travel savviness.  Or both.  I certainly misjudged what sort of travel mishaps I would encounter down here, as I did not bring any extra ATM cards with me or traveler's checks, and therefore currently have AR$ 92.90 to my name (that's about $23.00).  Thankfully my parents are already on top of it and have another debit card on it's way, but who knows exactly how long that will take.  Add on the fact that I have a bit of a looming deadline in the form of paying for my student visa by Monday, and one could say that I'm just a tad anxious right now. 

But aside from losing my wallet and camera, the show that I was at this fateful Monday night was freaking awesome!  It's called "La Bomba," and it's a huge percussion band that plays in a warehouse on the outskirts of Recoleta.  It reminded me a lot of the countless street musicians that I've seen playing, and attracts a wide range of people as it audience; there were businessmen in suits, college students in flannel, and hippies of all ages dancing everywhere.  Plus, my senora, Cecilia, told me to go to it, and I've found that anything Cecilia tells me to do, I should do.  That's how I got to go to the free "tango show" at the Planetarium on Sunday - although in reality it was more like a star show set to live tango music, though equally as enjoyable.  

After the tango show, I went wandering around the park that was across the street - I think it was Plaza Holanda - where, I kid you not, 75% of the people there were on some form of wheeled transportation contraption.  I'm talking about bikes, unicycles, skateboards with 4 wheels, skateboards with 2 wheels, individual skateboards for each foot, bike-carriages, and the most popular and most enjoyable for me to watch, rollerblades.  And by far the best part of all these people was that none of them had really mastered how to operate on wheels.  Add eating an amazing choripan (sandwich of chorizo (sausage) on bread (pan) with whatever toppings you want) and it was by and large an excellent way to spend a free Sunday.

And speaking of tango, I went to my first tango class last night! 4 hours of dancing + 4 inch heels = painful blisters.  Aside from the shoes, the class was really a lot of fun - it's about 50% porteñas, 30% IES chicas, and 20% IES hombres, meaning lots of dance partners for the boys in the class.  Our teacher is a stoutly old man with an absolutely fabulous bushy mustache and the grace of a ballerina.  He makes tango look so natural, like it's simply another way of walking around.  We learned the basic box-step pattern, which can then be taken and embellished with a variety of extra moves that usually the man decides on and which the girl must follow to the best of her abilities.  I figured I would just learn the basic steps in my first class, but lo and behold, by the end of those four hours I was sashay-ing around and kicking my feet between my dancer partners' legs.  However, I'm terrified to think of what else I am possibly expected to learn after that class.  And, we have a recital at the end of the semester - with the other Argentine dancers, all of whom look as though they've been dancing tango their whole lives.  I at least have a number of friends with me in the class to share in the pain and embarrassment that inevitably will ensue.  

Until I get my new debit card, I will be rather limited to my extracurricular activities, but I actually see this as more of a friendly challenge: can one go out on the weekends where nightlife revolves around the bar and dance club scene and NOT spend any money?  We shall just have to see...