The Second Stage

When we first got here, the program coordinators told us that, like grief, study abroad has several stages. In the first ¨Luna de Miel¨stage everything is new and exciting and perfect. In the second stage everything is impossibly foreign and you start to hate the world.

I think I might be entering the second stage. This weekend had its highlights, but overall it was frustrating and strangly exhausting. Friday I went to a Chabad dinner with some girls from the residencia. The rabbi who spoke was from New York, and even though he was speaking Spanish and had a beard down almost to his belly button, it was easy to picture him walking down the streets of Manhattan. Prayers took two hours, and then dinner took two more.

It was my first Chabad, and I liked it, but my migraine came back partway through (I think because there was nothing to drink with dinner) and by the time it was over I just wanted to sleep.

Saturday during the day I went to a park with the same group of people. We drank wine and ate cheese on the grass until it started raining. Then we sat in a tree to escape the rain and talked. It was definitely the best part of the weekend. That night, though, a big group from the residencia tried to go out to a boliche to go dancing, and all 40 of us got turned away at the door. I went with a few girls to get gelato in an effort to rescue the night, but I got a gross flavor and still ended up grumpy.

And the little frustrations keep building up. I don´t start classes until tomorrow, so when I woke up this morning, I was planning to go to the suburb of Tigre for a day trip. Then I looked once more at my class schedule and realized that I´m taking two classes on opposite sides of the city at exactly the same time. Right now I´m at FLACSO trying to change that. But no one gets to work until 11, apparently -- except for the program director´s assistant, who just told me there´s probably nothing I can do.

Here´s hoping the second stage passes and I can move onto the third: the humor stage.