Empanadventure and Decrepitopolis, a Twofold Tale

Today I have two stories to share. One of them is homey and cuddly, and the other is vague, gray, and windy.
 
Part I: Empanadventure
 
Despite some initial misgivings about my ability to act like a normal-enough person to make friends, I have found myself surrounded by delightful buddies. Some of them are compañeros de clase (classmates) (SHOUTOUT TO MACARENA-- YOU READING THIS, GIRRRRLLLL???) and some of them are girls from the residence where I live.

In this particular case, the friends in question happen to be some chicas I met in the dorm computer room when Netflix wouldn't let me and Rachel watch "Battlestar Galactica." The only good thing about having a vaguely weird accent is that people will ask me questions about where I'm from, and I can draw them in with my wittiness and trick them into being my friends. Which is exactly what happened in this instance!!! Paloma, Sol, Rosario, Rachel and I chatted into the night and were invited to an empanada-making party in our honor.

Based on certain past experiences with the polychronic lifestyle of Latin America, I had some doubts at first as to whether this little fiesta would actually happen or not... but my concerns were soon assuaged when Paloma reminded us, like every day, of our dinner date.

So we made some empanadas de carne on Tuesday night :)

The lovely Rosario!

Rachel, Buckwheat, and Rachel's empanada!

GRUMPYCAT SAYS YES

Not really though

  Paloma, empanada queen!
P.S. support my nonprofit, "Scribbles for Anonymity"

 

Mi Sol :P

 

Paloma also made us a great cake!

 

I am the worst at folding empanadas. This is the lesson I learned. Oh wait, one more lesson: empanadas are really great with sugar. I know, you'd never guess! USE THIS INFORMATION AS YOU GO ABOUT YOUR DAILY LIVES.

 

 

Part II: Decrepitopolis

 

As we had no class Wednesday, Rachel and I decided to-- WHAT ELSE????-- go on an adventure. Her well-traveled Uncle Mark recommended that we visit "the most beautiful beach in Buenos Aires." So, Rachel having done all the research (which bus to take, what stop to tell the driver), we boarded a 37 and began our great journey to Parque de la Memoria.

 

Upon arrival, we did not see a beautiful beach-- instead we saw what appeared to be the setup for a post-apocalyptic zombie movie. In fact, so not-beautiful was our first impression of the place that Rachel began to fear that we had been April-Fooled and sent to die by her seemingly-trustworthy uncle.

 

Photographic evidence of the attempt on our lives:

Two enormous, decrepit university buildings greeted us upon our arrival. I believe this one is the "School of Mass Murder."

For a closer look at the creepiness, click on the pictures to enlarge.

Throwing caution/precaución to the wind

A peek into my future

Explanation unnecessary.

A tree growing out of a house

 

I wish I had taken pictures of the abandoned playground, but alas. We all make poor choices sometimes.

 

We took the eerie amosphere in stride and continued on, confident that if we just kept walking we would find something sometime.

 

And we did! Parque de la Memoria turned out to be a grassy expanse dotted with large sculptures, along with some wide concrete walkways with explanatory signs like:

 

pregnant woman in a cage???

Probably I am a jerk for making light of these signs.

 

Maybe you are getting sick of pictures by now, but I'm also betting you're sick of snow. I'll use that fact to keep you hostage until the end of this post. LOOK, MORE PHOTOS OF GREEN GRASS AND WATER IN ITS LIQUID FORM!!!

 

A giant sculpture of a mace or something???? There was a hawk on it but it flew away.

Rachel climbed a big house-scultpture. Was Oppenheim somebody famous? Because in that case she climbed an Oppenheim.

And she was sooooooo excited!

^^^ Teleporting pad

After many attempts.

We maybe need to get a closer look at this one

JUST A LITTLE CLOSER

*effort face*

 

 

I swear, I'm almost done recounting our adventures. Just one more small tale:

We discovered a strange dock-like area (not in the Park) that extended far beyond our first impression. It looked as though it had once been intended to be a well-used thoroughfare, but had since been abandoned to weeds and adventurous fishermen. Here, Rachel decided she needed to find out whether the River Plate is freshwater or saltwater.

 

Now, let me be clear: I, who readily eat food off the floor, was unwilling to taste this water. I, whose friends voted her “Most Likely to Die in a Stupid [read, ‘Self-Inflicted’] Way,” was not ready to risk my life and/or intestinal health to test this murky brown liquid. To emphasize what a bad idea I still think this was, let me show you what this river washed up:

 

Weeds, plastic bottles, and the prow of a Viking ship

Rebar. DO YOU WANT TO END UP WITH THIS GROWING INSIDE YOU??? Unless you want to be extremely structurally sound, I DON'T THINK SO!

 

 

But there she went anyway:

To strengthen my argument about the impurity and deathfulness of this water, I haven't seen Rachel all day. Probably this means she's languishing in bed with a dreadful case of "The Amoebs" (pronounced "ah-meebs").

If I ever see her again, I will let you know. Until then,

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH