Category: Juliet in Buenos Aires

What if I don’t want to go home?

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Okay, so maybe they were right. Maybe all those former study-abroad students I spoke to before coming to Argentina weren’t crazy. They would go on and on about the life-changing magic of their experiences abroad, and in the same breath, they would remind me – or rather warn me: reentering the U.S. would likely be a difficult transition, maybe even more than leaving home. At the time, this didn’t make much sense. I was anxious about studying abroad. I wasn’t entirely confident in my language skills or in my ability to make friends, adapt to culture shock, or deal with homesickness. (The list goes on). There was so much uncertainty surrounding study abroad and it scared me. There was no doubt that I wanted to go to Argentina; but I also really, really wanted to come back. I didn’t understand why the transition back to regular American life could be so challenging.

And now I do. My anxiety blinded me from imagining just how wonderful life abroad could be. I pictured myself struggling through all the potential hardships and it overshadowed my ability to picture myself enjoying the marvels of studying abroad. Now that I’m actually here and having the time of my life, I truly get it. I understand why so many of my friends had a hard time returning home. 

Some of that Argentine sunshine

I am very conscious that I only have six weeks left in Buenos Aires. I’m doing my absolute best to take advantage of this time, but I’m already starting to dread leaving. I’ve built an entirely new world here and the fact is I don’t want to abandon it. I don’t want to abandon my wonderful new friends, my host mom, my cozy little room, the incredible Argentine sunshine, or all my little rituals that I’ve worked so arduously to establish here. Somehow it feels like I just got here, like I’m just starting to find solid footing in Buenos Aires, and just as soon I have to leave. 

Although I won’t know for certain until I land in Denver, I’m predicting that the hardest aspect of my homecoming will be adapting to my usual life of responsibility. I have endless free time here. No job, no homework, no family duties. I do whatever I want and I adore it. My life back home is far from humdrum, but it is demanding to keep up with all the obligations of student life. Besides, I will miss the culture here. The pre-study abroad version of me might not have believed it, but I will miss being surrounded by Spanish. I will miss the languid Argentine lifestyle, their love for asado, and their lively conversation. I’ve been living like an Argentine for months now. Just as it was difficult to upend my life and move abroad, it will be difficult to shift in reverse.

However, I think it would be a mistake to expect this reverse culture shock to be dooming. I can’t wait to go home and be able to hug my boyfriend, eat chicken tikka masala, and sleep in my own bed with my own pictures on the walls. I can’t wait to spend a white Christmas with the loving family that I’ve missed so much. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from my experience in Argentina, it’s that I am adaptable. (Something about what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?) When I left the U.S., I worried I’d never survive in Buenos Aires. Now here I am in Buenos Aires worrying I’ll never survive in the U.S. Things will be just fine. And anyway, I still have a month and a half to live out the rest of my Argentine dreams; I’d better use it well.

Asado: the language of love

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I have been lucky enough to make friends with several local Argentines these last two months. Most of them I met through a classmate, another international student who happens to be well-connected here. It can be difficult to create close friendships across the language and culture barrier, so I’m grateful to have had that opportunity. 

Anyway, one of these friends invited me to an asado last Saturday! An Asado is just the Argentine version of an American barbecue, and if you ever have the chance to go, you absolutely must. I met up at a friend’s house beforehand and played some fútbol video games before heading to the asado around 8 p.m. It was in a provincial suburb about an hour from the center of Buenos Aires, so we took my friend’s car and bumped to Taylor Swift on the way. 

When we arrived, we were greeted by our host and his father and brothers, who were sweating over the grill (la parrilla) while trying to distract their dog from the delicious smell of steak. While we waited for the meat to cook, we drank red wine and Fernet and played ping-pong. Soon enough, our friend and his dad started ferrying plates and plates of meat from the grill to the table: asado and chorizo and pork and kidney and blood sausage and ribs and chicken and more. As you can see, an asado is not quite vegan-friendly. Everything was delicious and perfectly cooked. In Argentina the meat is of such high quality that people hardly season it and rarely use condiments – although I’ll admit I do miss barbecue sauce. 

Here’s just some of the food we enjoyed

As we ate, we discussed politics (of course) and other Argentine affairs. Having local friends has been the absolute best addition to my education because they know the culture at a corporal level and I learn by listening. Plus it’s a great way to learn swear words.

I tried a bit of everything and when I thought I might finally burst, someone ordered several kilograms of ice cream. And once we really truly couldn’t eat anymore, we all laid around like you do after Thanksgiving when you’re so full and so content that you just can’t move. It was beautiful.

It was a blessing to have been welcomed into this world by such wonderful people. I felt so Argentine. I’m confident that this asado will remain one of my favorite memories of studying abroad, not because we ate so well or because we had such a fun time, but because I felt like I belonged there. I was able to fully immerse myself in an entirely new cultural tradition with new friends who were gracious enough to accept me. It didn’t matter how competent I was at Spanish or how much I understood Argentine politics because we were all of us bonding over a meal together. And that truly is a universal language.