El destino de M&Ms y Pesach

As of Saturday, I have begun to believe in the concept of fate. Out of all the supermarkets and kiosks, outdoor markets and vendors on the streets, random people selling you stuff on the street and cafes in the city of Mendoza, I happen to live roughly two blocks away from a store that sells peanut M&Ms. For a mere $7.95 pesos, I can be the happiest little gringa in this lovely country, as the proud owner of 98 grams of pure, sweet heaven.

It's hard to remember what I do with my time here. Days sort of melt into each other and fly away faster than I can bring myself to sit and write about them. For the sake of remembering some details, here is what I did yesterday:

At around 12:30 I woke up to the sound of Mushi clawing at the back door of my bedroom. To clarify, its not so much a door as it is panels of plastic painted to look like wood that fold up accordion style to the backyard staircases. So Mushi is meowing and he throws his claws into the corner of the door where it is easiest to poke through. One paw pushes through, and it looks like a demonic/possessed cat is breaking and entering. I get up to help this process along a little because the meowing is getting to me, he climbs up on my bed, we snuggle for a bit, and then I decide that getting up would probably be a good idea.

There's lots of noise coming from the kitchen, accompanied by some incredible smells. Vivi is complaining about the heat and wearing the black jumper with pockets that she dawns while preparing for large dinner parties. She makes fun of me for getting up so early on a Sunday (meanwhile it's roughly 13:00), and I toast a tortita and put the water on for tea. For all of you poor souls who have never experienced a tortita, I will try to explain the perfection of this simple bread. A tortita is a round piece of flaky bread, gold on the outside and whitish on the inside, roughly the size of a baseball—though it is flat, not round. Each bite is slightly crunchy, due to the flaky outer layers, but buttery and soft on the inside. I eat one every morning, toasted with cream cheese (right now we've got Philadelphia chive and onion, which won't last for much longer) and raspberry mermelada from Patagonia. A cup of black or peppermint tea, as well as Harry Potter y la cámara de secretos, usually accompany me as well.

After breakfast I played some guitar—I found Vivi’s guitar from childhood in one of the outdoor closets, and she let me re-string and fix it up. I discovered in the month that I didn’t have an instrument that playing music is absolutely essential to my daily routine. So I practiced for a bit, pretty self-conscious because my sister was also home and we don’t really talk to much to one another, and then started walking to Parque General San Martín, the largest green area in Mendoza, for the Seder my friend Hannah organized. While waiting for other members of our group to arrive I was shat on by a bird, so expected to have good luck for the rest of my day. In the middle of the park is a man-made lake, as well as an island in the center. We met on the island and had an incredible Seder with charoset (prepared by Hannah and I the day before), a make-shift Seder plate with eggs, cucumbers, an orange, and pieces of paper with the other items we were not able to procure. After the Seder a few mendocinos that I know came to the island and we spent the rest of the afternoon chatting and learning dirty words on the island, obviously. The first thing anyone learns when they travel to a foreign country is “where is the bathroom” and then all sorts of horrible phrases to make you sound like a local. There was also this random guy wearing pants covered with paint, no shoes, and had a piece of alabaster that he was chiseling into the form of a foot sitting close by, so we offered him some food and started chatting with him. Turns out he’s a student in the Faculty of Art and Design at the university we are enrolled in, so we hope to see him again.

After watching the sun set (behind the Andes and some crazy trees/plants), our group was kicked off the island by security because it apparently closes at night, and I walked back home with a friend from the program who lives close by. Once back at home I ate dinner with the family and the promptly fell asleep two seconds later.

Tonight my family is hosting a Seder with a guest list of approximately 30 people, so it should be a rowdy evening filled with great food, wine, and Jews. Though this will be an interesting cultural experience, I very much miss the Seders I used to have at Saba and Savta’s house with the close family. I remember the weird play that Ilana and I wrote and had everybody perform year after year, even when it was awkward because we wrote it as 10 and 13 year olds. I hope there are some good songs during this seder because my family gets really into the song part back home. So Happy Pesach to all!

I will be traveling to El Bolson, a little hippy town in Patagonia, on Wednesday for Semana Santa (Holy Week) because I don’t have classes (there are some advantages of living in a Catholic country I suppose). I’ll be hiking, camping, talking to random people, and chilling in PATAGONIA. So have fun during the next week knowing that I am doing something wicked awesome.

Also, just so everyone knows, I made an enormous batch of peanut butter with a friend in my program on Saturday and it is DELICIOUS.