I ate...!

Goose eggs! Yes, that's right, I ate goose eggs over shabbos. It was amazing. Actually, they are pretty much just like big chicken eggs, but I think just having eaten them is kind of awesome. That was only one of the highlights of the weekend, but I don't have time to post everything now; today is Dia de la Razas here (Latin America's answer to Columbus Day) so there are no classes. I am going to avoid all of the protests and crowds and walk to the very large Parque Tres de Febrero. Supposedly there are a few awesome things to see there, and it is a beautiful for a stroll in the park, perhaps a picnic.
Speaking of a picnic, I experienced a phenomenal Argentine tradition last Wednesday called the asado. An asado is pretty much a barbecue on steriods. Burgers and franks are no where to be found, instead, steaks and these massive ribs are the stars. The steaks are good, but the ribs, with a thick layer of flavorful fat that, over the two hours they spend over the coals (if you use gas here they publicly flog you after a first offense, after that, to the gallows), renders into the meat and make them, frankly, ridiculously good. So unhealthy but who cares?
And to segue from unhealthy, after Hoshanah Rabbah davening the Jabad served breakfast to the congregation (perhaps rewarding us for sitting through a two hour davening on a weekday). I had conits de dulce de leche. The best way to describe it would be to say that it is exactly like a crembo, except instead of marshmallow fluff inside it is filled to brim with dulce de leche. Amazing! Between the conitas and the ribs, and this deli meat that they have here (I forget the name) that is like a mortadella but with an egg inside, I am going to develop cardiac problems and diabetes while I am here. It's worth it.
What is everyone doing for Columbus Day? And have the leaves turned yet? If anyone goes upstate and catches the fall foliage, and happens to take a picture, send it to me! How I miss autumn in New York (and early shabbos, it keeps getting later here!)
Chao!

It's a Baby! It's an Engagement! No, it's...

In shul this morning a middle aged man got an Aliyah, and afterward everyone yelled out Mazal Tov! and began dancing around the Bimah. Of course, I wanted to know what the Mazal Tov was for, so I asked one of the fellows standing on the sides. He told me "Is Happy Birthday."
In other news, Argentines have a ridiculous sweet tooth. They love dulce de leche, alfajores, ice cream, any cookies, cakes etc. It is anti-traditional, in Buenos Aires, to have anything savory for breakfast. No eggs, but croissants and dulce de leche galore. This morning the Jabad put out breakfast after shul which consisted solely of an eclectic collection of cookies. I must say, the Argentines love their sweets, and they are amazing at making them too.
Last night I went to meet someone who runs a very ambitious blog called International Jewish People. We met at one of the few tea places in the city (portenos don't drink much tea) and I had my first lapsang in ages. It was amazing. We sat there for 2 hours talking and then decided to go get ice cream. I will try to explain how amazing this ice cream was. Compared to Argentine ice cream (helado):
Baskin Robbins is bad
Turkey Hill is terrible
Haagen Daaz is horrible
Good Humor is gross
and Coldstone is, well, also bad.
This helado was unbelievable. I got two types of chocolates, one with almonds and the other with something that reminded me of the honey-nougat of Toblerone bars. Not only was my tongue smiling, my T1R2 and T1R3 receptors were laughing in unison. That was some darn good ice cream.

Pics

It seems some of the picture did upload, but not as I would have liked them to. Check out facebook; if you aren't on and need an invite to view them, let me know.

The Jewish Portenos and the Beginning of my First Week

Portenos is the word used for people who live in Buenos Aires. They are not Buenos Airesian or Buenos Airites or Buenos Aireslings; all those terms were just too much of a mouthful so they chose portenos, which means 'port-people' (Buenos Aires is a port) and is spelled with an 'enye,' the n with the squiggly thing on top that I don't have on my keyboard.
Over the weekend, which also happened to be the first days of Sukkos, I got to experience the hospitality of the Jewish portenos in Belgrano (the barrio, neighborhood, that I am currently living in). On friday night I went to Jabad Olleros (they spell Chabad with a J; Olleros is pronounced as if the ll is a soft J), and to Jorge and Raquel Goldfarb (Yair's uncle and aunt) for the meal. The food was amazing, and I experienced the beginning of, what I think, is turning out to be the traditional way of eating in Buenos Aires. The company was also amazing, and I managed to communicate with the Goldfarbs, including two of their grandchildren and a number of their children, with basic Hebrew. They also had an Israeli girl on her traditional post-army trip who, besides for speaking fluent Hebrew, spoke a decent English as well. Between the three languages I am trying to juggle I am mucho mitbalbel.
I walked about half an hour to the only Orthodox Ashkenzi shul in Belgrano, run by Rabbi Oppenheimer. The community was very friendly and welcoming, and I had enough invites for more meals than were left. I ate by Rabbi Oppenheimer the first lunch in his large backyard sukkah (the second of the growing trend) and had great English conversation with him and his wife (from Toronto; except for Yuval's wedding, I don't think I was ever so happy to see a Canadian). I'm kidding; I love Canadians and Canada is awesome. I hung out at the rabbi's house until Maariv, and after Maariv I was directed by Rabbi Oppenheimer to go to Pablo's. Pablo's was amazing. Pablo himself spoke basic English, and I was able to give a toast (l'chaim) with him as translator. Matti was also there with his wife, Uri with his, another fellow whose name escapes me, and Michel (pronounced Michelle with a long i, like ee, but it is a guy's name). These guys were all a ton of fun, but Michel was amazing. We spoke mostly in basic Hebrew, and most of the time he spoke in Spanish to the other fellows, but his face, his mannerisms, and the way he talked and laughed were exactly like Josh Wisotsky (a fellow who goes to our shul back in Teaneck; Josh, if you happen to read this, you may have a long-lost bro in BA. Also, you will probably correct me for spelling your last name wrong). Michel was very cool; he travels to China for his business of selling video game consoles.
The food at Pablo's was stellar, and yet again the service was similar. Perhaps I should explain. I am used to the American-Jewish style of Shabbos/YomTov meals. We start quite soon after we get home from shul (unless we went to hashkama/early minyan, in which case we still usually start by 12:30), and we have courses, at least fish and main, if not a soup in between. The table starts off empty, besides for the challah and wine, and the food is brought out on serving plates, each course subsequent to the clearing of the prior. In Buenos Aires people eat late. Very late. Really really late. The family yom tov meals were fine, though we waited at least an hour between shul and lunch (shul finished at 1 the first day, 12:30 the second) and at dinner we waited a hour as well, though shul ended at 8:30. We didn't finish dinner until 12, and yes, there were little kids. The portenos, however, are absolutely nuts, and think nothing of going out at 12 in the middle of week. People here start their nights out at 12 or later on weeknights. It's a jewish schoolmom's worst nightmare.
The table is set with numerous salads and vegetables and perhaps eggs and other appetizer/starter foods (think at an Israeli Sefardi table but even more so) and everyone's plate is either empty or plated with a fish and various veg. The starter/salad course goes on for a long time with everyone eating and talking and eating and talking and eating and eating and talking and then the salads are cleared, as are the plates, and plates are brought back with food on them. You don't take your own food, you do not choose how much to take, you just get the food on your plate (and if you aren't careful, when you are finished, you will get more). This is the formal porteno meal (so far). The food is good and plentiful here, and, especially once I find the kosher heladerias, I am sure I will come back a bit larger than I left.
After havdala at the Jabad Olleros, the Goldfarbs and number of other congregants hosted a port-chag party in the chabad sukkah. They had cholent. They had amazing thick-cut pastrami. And they had more cholent. The guys giving out cholent gave me a small plate full at first; when he asked if I wanted more I told him I might have later. The second time around he asks, and before I answered he grabbed a plate twice the size of the original and filled it with cholent until both the plate and I could take no more. It is awesome here.
On Monday after class I got my first tour of the city when Kendra (yes, Kendra), a girl in my Spanish class, showed me the student residence hall (I may move) and the Congreso area of BA, including the Congress, the Obelisk, and 9 de Julio, supposedly the widest street in the world. To go off on a tangent, the streets here are named after dates and the street that I live off of is 11 de Setiembre. Weird. Pictures are on Facebook.
At night Taglit had a BBQ at our hostels sukkah, so all the residents were invited, and tahnk goodness too. I was starving, and I ate enough chorizo to give a marathon runner a heart attack. Chorizo are like sausages, but they are to American sausages what Prime Grill is to McDonald's. Chorizo are over an inch thick and bursting with flavor. Oh man, my mouth is watering.
This morning I went to the American Embassy (not too impressive, I wanted to find out how to get a Visa for Brazil), the Palacio San Martin (pics on Facebook) the Jardin Botanico (ditto) and, after class, the Hillel of Belgrano! A five minute walk from me is the nicest Hillel I have ever seen, with American students studying abroad and a pool! A pool in a Hillel! This place is amazing. Details may follow later, I am off to meet someone in a fantastic looking tea shop.
Chao!

My First Homework

For our first homework I had to write a presentation about a friend. I am posting it at his request.

Mi Amigo Ephraim

En Nuevo Jersey yo tengo amigo. El llama Ephraim. Ephraim estudia en Ieshive Universitad en Washington Heights. El muy gusta correr y el tiene exito a corriendo, pero no gusta pasear en bicicleta. El es muy tradicionales. Nosotros andamos comer en panaderias. El vive en Teaneck Nueva Jersey con su familia.
En la manana se lavanta en madrugada por la escuela, y el en escuela por todo dia. Despues de escuela, Ephraim corre, come, hace deberes, y se duerme.

This is probably totally grammatically off, and also a way simplified version of one of my closest friends, but hopefully I will be able to do both him and the Spanish language justice when I complete the class.

Day 1 of Classes

Hola! It seems like forever since I last posted instead of 24 hours; so much happened between then and now. After I published the last post I helped the management (Sebastian and Esteban) build the sukkah for a bit, until the hour grew late and the cellphone stores were in their final hour. I walked down the main road in Belgrano, Avenida Cablido, and using my very limited Spanish, I was able to find a locutorio, buy a SIM card, activate it, and put 50 pesos of Argentine minutes. The cell phone is turning out to be very convenient.
After my first successful navigation of Buenos Aires I began calling my contacts (thanks to all who set me up with someone!). One friend (go Perel!) gave me the numbers of some of her family in Buenos Aires as well as an envelope to bring to one of them, and made the conveyance of said envelope my mission of the evening. I took my first (and hopefully my last) taxi ride to the apartment of this older couple (last name Worms) to give them them the envelope. When I entered they were just about to eat dinner, and they insisted that I enter and join them. Their son and his wife and two kids were visiting from Israel, but they all spoke English (and German and Spanish), and we had great conversations about healthcare in America and Israel, business in Argentina, traveling, retiring, and, of course, they gave me tons of tips for survival in Buenos Aires. They also invited me to their sports club! People here continue to be awesome. I walked home after that and showered (in the small but clean shared bathroom) and collapsed before ten, way before any of the Israelis even got back from wherever they were, the first time I've done that in ages.
I woke up early and met Esteban downstairs; he invited me to go to shul with him. We went to the Beit Jabad Olleros for Shacharit, I got an Aliyah, and I was unable to find anyone who spoke English. I did, however, find out that one of the Israeli girls at the hostel has American parents, and therefore perfect English, and believe me, it was quite a relief to hear unaccented, fluent English. I polished off a bag of pretzels that I bought in Queens for breakfast and went down to Once (a neighborhood) to the language school (Centro Universitario de Idiomas) to sign in. I gave myself a half an hour buffer zone, in case of any commuter confusion, and they initially told me to be there 2 hours early on the first day. I commuted correctly and the fellow who told me to be there half an hour early was mistaken, so I had a few hours to kill, which I did by sending out more emails to contacts, getting an invite for Shabbos day at Rav Oppenheimer (thanks Noah!) and a text from someone who runs a blog called International Jewish People (in Buenos Aires) to hang out (thanks Google!). I also got a random phone call from the Worms' relatives inviting me (I think) to their house for Sukkos (though it was hard to hear; I have to call them back). I now have an invite to Raquel (thanks Kinney!), Rabbi Oppenheimer (Noah!), the Goldschmidts (Perel!) and, most probably, Raquel's daughter (Kinney again!). I also spoke to my mom on Skype (go Skype!), so all in all, the few hours before class were quite productive.
Class itself is tough. They decided to place me in level 2 right away based on my placement test, and the entire class is n Spanish. I am able to keep up for the most part, and, though the first class is an introduction, i learned that the usage of vos instead of tu that the Argentines use for the informal second person pronoun is actually traditional, and that the traditional name for the language is not Espanol, but Castellano. I also that some of the word structure is similar to Hebrew. For example, the word for why literally means 'for what' (LaMah, for what; Por Que, for what). Spanish also makes use of Shoresh verbs and complex conjugations based on the subject and uses gender and quantity specific adjectives. It is also a bit like Australian slang; when Michi Hayman, an Australian friend, came for Rosh Hashanah, he asked 'how are you going,' meaning how are you? In Castellano they say como andas, literally 'how are you going,' meaning the same thing. Otherwise class was uneventful (though there is a girl in the class on a gap year between high school and college who said, in her introduction, that she hablo Hebreo. I must find out more).
By the time class finished (at 4) I was starving. Once happens to be one of the more heavily concentrated Jewish communities; it is like Borough Park except with non-Jews also. I found the first kosher pizza place and had my first Argentine Pizza (not so cheap though, despite everyone telling me how cheap the place is. Hm...). It hit the spot though, and I was ready for lulav hunting.
It took me a good hour, but, a lot of walking and one bakery later I found a yeshive (or ieshiva) and bought my arbah minim for sukkos, which, in the end, were not much more than what they cost on Main St in Queens). Alfahores, by the way, are delicious. They are very crumbly cookies with very sweet and very delicious dolce de leche sandwiched in between, rolled in coconut. Also very tradtitonal here; it is a day of tradition. In the topic of not changing, the frum girls here Buenos Aires dress exactly the same as the frum girls in the States. Almost makes me feel at home. Kidding!
I decided to walk back to the hostel (partly motivated by my desire to see the city and partly by the alfahore), and it did not seem like such a long walk. My map is not scale however, and I underestimated the distance; the walk took an hour and twenty minutes (not terrible, but with stuff and later in the evening, not ideal). One thing that struck me about the city was, well, it is dirty. It's a pretty dirty city. I haven't gotten downtown yet, and the residential areas are a bit nicer, but the parts that I have seen so far are not very clean; there is litter and dog poo on every block. Perhaps I've only been in the not-so-great neighborhoods. I hope that's the case. Now I am off to do homework; yes, I traveled to Argentina just to find myself doing homework.
Ciao for now!

Chai Lifeline

A very good friend of mine, Ephraim Feman, is doing a half-marathon for Chai Lifeline for the second time. If you would like to sponsor him, click here :http://www.teamlifeline.org/mypage.php?myid=56357.