... is a football team from Rio that we saw when we were there, but they have nothing whatsoever to do with this post. However, it's a satisfying name to say. Try it.
And now for some general updates on the House. Residents now consist of: Octavio, the caretaker; Romina, Yeanina, Chio and Elena from Treinta y tres; Claudia, 37 years old and also known as 'la vete', and Marina, both living in our room; the brothers Pablo and Marcelo; Yeanina's brother whose name I still haven't learned, shame on me; the newest imports, Cecilia, Maria and Julieta; and Monica and my good self. 29 % of the residents are studying psychology. Recently, Claudia almost broke her leg when she fell down the bathroom drain and the other day an inter-residential conflict ensued in our room at 1 am. However, the pervasive atmosphere is one of fun and good feeling.
A couple of weeks ago we had easter holiday. The weekend was spent in Treinta y tres and it was fun to finally see where the RYCEs come from (henceforth, this is how I will refer to Romina, Yeanina, Chio and Elena in this blog). We stayed at Romi's house and spent the Saturday afternoon walking around town with the others. Everyone was coming back home for the holidays, so there was much yelling and hugging amongst the people fillng the streets. That night was spent at the folk music festival that was being held on the edge of town and a happy happy time was had.
The next day we returned to Montevideo and left for Buenos Aires the same night. We were excited, to say the least, to return to THE city. We arrived early on Monday morning after a 6 hour bus-boat-bus ride and, once we finally found it, installed ourselves at our CS host Belen's house in the fancy suburb of Olivos. Belu proved to be another amazing CSer and we had a great time with her, going to Konex for Bomba del Tiempo again, eating Korean food, watching movies and just hanging out and talking. We also got to know her friend Martín who, besides being a cool guy, lives in an incredible house in the same neighbourhood as Belu. Just as an example of their coolioness, the two of them are going to play tango in Finland this summer to finance their subsequent trip through Scandinavia. Apart from hanging out with Belu and Martín, we also did museuming, park-going at our favourite park, watched a really fun demonstration (the demonstrators were protesting the new mayor's plan to shut down the cultural centers that operate in all the different neighbourhoods, so it was a very artistic and joyous demonstration), did some nightlife-ing, went to Scott's place, shopped in Palermo (so... hard... to... resist...), walked around San Telmo, met up with Roberto again, got on the wrong train and ended up in the suburb San Martín which, though very close to Olivos, was a completely different world judging even by the little we saw, went to the cinema... And the list goes on.
Despite the amazingness of Buenos Aires, this city which really has a personality all its own, independent even of the people that we've gotten to know there, it felt good to get back to Montevideo. Maybe the relative permanency of our existence here plays a role, and it was great to meet the others in the House again.
Oh, and in other exciting news, I've started taking Spanish lessons at the Swedish-Uruguayan institute. My teacher's name is Nestor; he's extremely pedagogic and with his help it feels like I'm making leaps and bounds in the development of my Spanish. During my class yesterday I read some Eduardo Galeano for the first time, and I can't wait to get to know more of him.
To very clumsily return to the initial subject of this post, I've quit playing in Rampla. I got sick of the egoism and gang-mentality of many of the players, the coach's complete lack of interest in the team and being patronized as a result of not speaking Spanish properly. It's extremely sad, because this is one of Uruguay's absolute top teams in women's football. Many of the girls have amazing technique and a lot of potential but there's no one there to help them realize it. The attitude of a lot of them isn't helping fostering an environment where that could happen either. Meanwhile, the system doesn't exactly seem to be on their side; most of our practices were held on a patch of uneven grass in the dark, while 5 year old boys were playing on the field next to us, spurred on by dads who had come to watch their prodigal sons make history. I foresee a dark future for women's football in Uruguay.
During the meantime, the always smiling trainer Nicholás at the neighbourhood Rocky-type gym is getting me ready for returning to Galo's practices in Sweden. Having been an obstinate avoider of gyms in the past, I'm actually enjoying myself and am becoming fast friends with the he-men that populate the locale.
