Windsurfing and Sol and classes and brunch

I would like to start this post by thanking three wonderful, lovely human beings who kept me sane this week. When traveling abroad alone, highs can be super high, but the lows can be super low, and Sol, Leia, and Amanda kept my lows at bay this week. Sol, if you're reading this, you're awesome. Amanda, if you're reading this, as Esteban would (now) say, you're a real one. Leia, if you're reading this, hi :)

This week, I started my windsurfing classes, started attending the classes I'm assisting with (yes, I'm actually here to work...this isn't an extended vacation), requested to change a class I was assisting with, moved to my permanent apartment, hosted a guest, went to a concert, and snorkeled with sea lions. I think that's it. A pretty chill week if you ask me.

Wait, hold on, Leslie. You're doing windsurfing classes? Yes, yes I am, and, yes, I'm totally aware that that makes me super cool. I was first recommended this water sports type business from the previous Fulbrighter who lived here in 2019. She told me that the people there were great and super nice, so desperate to practice my Spanish and meet people, I had to give it a try. In Argentina, businesses do this amazing, magical thing where they just message you on WhatsApp about things rather than forcing you to make terribly awkward phone calls, so I'm currently slide-into-my-DMs level with the windsurfing people. Whenever they think it will be a good wind day, they just message me and ask if I'm down. Best. System. Ever.

My first class the instructor, Oscar, showed me and another student the basics, teaching us important vocabulary and what not. I appreciated him speaking in Spanish to me although he had somehow figured out (definitely couldn't have been my sandals or accent or name) that I speak English. We did a cute little practice run on land of lifting up the sail and moving it from side to side, and me, thinking this was practice run on-land number one was kind of just feeling things out, taking it easy. Jokes on me. That was the only on-land practice run. Now to be honest, I was nervous to head into the water. I can swim enough to get by and had accepted that I would make a fool of myself. However, I was terrified, absolutely petrified that I would get out onto the water, get on the board, start moving, completely forget every Spanish word I've ever learned, and Oscar would yell a super important piece of information that I couldn't understand and then I would float away and die. Have I ever mentioned that speaking a foreign language is fun and not at all anxiety inducing?

But, apparently, water does not make you lose every piece of Spanish you've ever learned, and I actually had a good time. Only fell twice! Pictures of windsurfing are on the way but for now, here's a picture of Napra from the internet. This is kind of what it looks like when I go to my lessons!

And here I am post-windsurfing! I walked home like this angrily wondering why I was getting so many stares.

This week I also started classes. I am a language assistant at a school that is basically a school for future teachers, so these students in the classes I'm in are learning English and how to teach English. All of my classes are at night from about 6-10pm. Also, I say students like they are children, but these students are full grown adults. Like 18+ adults. I have now worked with a few students who are even more than 18+ adults but official 30+ adults. The classes take place in what is an elementary school during the day. Here's the outside:

The first class I helped with was a literature class. Some of you may have already heard me vent about what happened in this class, so don't go spoiling it for everyone. However, I also do not intend to talk smack in this post, but just to give you an idea...In this first class about otherness, things were said by the instructor that were insensitive and perpetuated the whole reason otherness exists in the first place. I felt so uncomfortable leaving this class but also disappointed in myself for not having said anything, but it just didn't seem like my place to hop into class day one and interject.

Sitting on this discomfort overnight, I messaged Sol the next day - for context she works at the school I work at and exists to help me get things sorted out and make sure everything is in place - to "chat irl about something kinda a little more serious." Honestly, I just didn't know how to convey that it was a more serious type of conversation without sounding like super intense. Unfortunately, my attempts to sound not so intense did not pay off because I'm pretty sure I lowkey freaked poor Sol out. Within minutes of sending this text, she called me asking if everything was all right. I'm pretty sure she was convinced I was on the plane back to RVA right then and there.

We met at a coffee shop (Casa Hulpe - this location is not super important now but will come up later) to chat things out. Having only met her a week and a half ago, I was a little wary about her thoughts on mental health and about how much I could really trust her, but I was kind of panicking and she's kind of all I have here. SO. I gave her the low down, the 411, on how I was feeling. She was super chill. I told her I trusted her and wanted to be very open about my comfortability. She was super chill. I asked if it would be possible to maybe not assist with Canada's class anymore. She. was. super. chill. I kid you not she said, "You don't have to tell me what happened. I can just tell her it is for scheduling and logistical reasons."

Do I feel bad for switching out of that class? Absolutely. What if I could have done something in my time in that class to push against the narrative that was being taught? What if I could've discussed with the students the harmful stereotypes that exist and why they are harmful? So yeah I feel crappy that I couldn't hang. BUT I think it's also very important, though, to acknowledge that I advocated for myself because, let's be real, if I had stayed in that class, I would've come home enraged every Tuesday, wishing I had said something. We self-advocate and take care of ourselves here. If you ever need a hype person to prep you to self-advocate, contact Leia. Leia is the best hype person and coolest vegan.

Anyhoo, long story short, Sol is the best; I would chat with you privately about what happened in that class and why it is not good; self-advocacy and self-care are important; and Leia is my favorite person to text.

So as not to tarnish and completely overshadow the other experiences I had in my classes this week, I worked with Level 2 and Level 3 English students. In Level 2, I started speaking to the teacher in English before the class started, and the girl at my table looked so shook and, in a major panic, asked me if I was actually in Level 2 with her. I quickly clarified. In Level 3, students read poems they wrote about what their English is to them. It was breath-taking. The poems were all so thoughtful and meaningful, and made me reflect on what my English and what my Spanish mean to me and how I never really consider how privileged I am to be a native English speaker. While Spanish may be cool and allow me to travel and help me to be more open-minded and meet and converse with new people, it will never be what English is to those students in that class. In Sol's class about how to teach English, we discussed our experiences learning English (or Spanish, in my case)!

On another happier note and to add to the list of reasons why Sol is the best, this past weekend, I brunched with Sol and her fam and then went to her son's rugby game. Because, ya know, I'm vegan, for our brunch she made hummus and bought me vegan cheese and there was a spread of bread and tomatoes and carrots and chips and strawbs and peanuts. No mimosas, unfortunately, but I met their turtle which pretty much makes up for that.

Watching her son's rugby match took me back to the days of watching my brother play baseball except that I don't think one parent in the stands knew the rules of rugby. I am not exaggerating when I say that everyone Sol/her family spoke to made a joke about trying to figure out what was going on. My googling told me that you can only throw the ball backwards. My watching told me that this seems to be a very dangerous sport.

Okay and last reason to add to this Sol list is that she helped me move. Granted, I only moved about 4 or 5 blocks away, but trying to repack what I had unpacked after two weeks was a chore and did not really go that well if I'm going to be honest. Her daughter also helped me move, but I'm pretty sure that was less because she was feeling nice and more likely because she was tired of watching 13 and 14 year old boys push each other over. Fair.

I had to say goodbye to my beautiful beach view, so in honor of that view, let us reflect on its beauty.

I now live in an apartment behind the house of these lovely, lovely people. Look at all the plants!!!

I live in A!!

After dropping off my bags and after waiting for Sol and her daughter to finish their Argentine goodbye with the apartment owner (for those familiar with the Midwest goodbye, this is identical except there are also besitos and hugs included at the last last goodbye) because I didn't want to awkwardly say goodbye twice (spoiler alert - I timed it wrong and did, in fact, have to say goodbye twice), I went to find my pal Amanda (aka psuedo-vegan and anonymous lost Lollapalooza girl from previous posts) on the beach!!!

More to come on Leslie and Amanda's adventures including a mysterious concert, no hot water, getting locked out, an almost underaged boy, and Leslie and Amanda in wetsuits!