What Being Gringa Means to Me

...I never saw myself as a blogger, up until this moment. I am an extremely private person. For instance, at times I would rather lie than tell a stranger a simple fact about myself, like what I studied in college. Words-- how I choose to express myself-- feel weighted, as if they carried some special power that could be lost in transmission to another. I realize that this is a paranoid and narcissistic way of relating to others. Maybe this Blog will be an exercise is sharing myself with the world, honestly and sin miedo.

Tonight I am in bed with a cold that seems to be on its way out. This is my second night staying in what will potentially be home for the next few months. My bedroom is on the terrace of a two-story apartment complex. The room is small and simple with whitewashed, crumbling brick walls, green trim and a dim yellow light bulb under which I write. It is bohemian, romantic and good for escaping the craziness that lies a few feet away. The house is shared by two argentinos, two italianas, un inles, un español, y yo, the token norteamericana. English is forbidden and the freezer is stocked with a thousand different cuts of meat. I am in heaven.

Tonight we had an indoor asado and I realized, in the company of three other north american girls from Chicago, that we gringas share a certain no lo se que, algo, difficult to describe, that perhaps no other female possesses. Ever since arriving in Buenos Aires, I have felt more clumsy and foolish than I ever have in my life. I thought that this was me, Kendra, just being my usual suave, awkward self, heightened by the experience of adjusting to a new city and culture. But tonight my heart leaped as I watched three other girls spill wine on the table cloth, spoon heaps of mashed potatoes and meat into their chattering mouths with vulgar and joyful abandon. I heaved a sigh of relief each time I heard one fuck up a spanish phrase and follow up with something self-deprecating. I was, for once, out of the spotlight. So what is it then? It's not just about being clumsy or crass...maybe a lack of sophistication that most porteños y europeos seem to be blessed with? Will think more on this.