Not Exactly What I Expected/That Sinking Feeling In My Stomach

But what is, really?  Heather (a fellow Fulbrighter that is researching maternal health in Peru) and I were about to participate in the absolute height of civilized, conscientious, thoughtful, and selfless world, and ... watch Sex and the City 2.  I know, I know.  Some things die hard.  I was preparing for a night of fine dining and fine entertainment when Heather sent me a text message to inform me that she had purchased a copy of the movie and we could watch it on my computer at her place, or mine.  We were excited to hear the whimsical voice of Carrie, the sultry voice of Samantha, Charlotte's somewhat high-pitched musings on societal norms, and Miranda's cynical reactions to whichever one of life's obstacles found her that day.  You can imagine our HORROR and downright unwillingness to watch the movie when we realized that it had been dubbed.  We quickly decided that it would be just impossible! to watch a dubbed version of Sex and the City.  We decided instead to watch "The Backup Plan" with Jennifer Lopez.  This movie was also dubbed and subtitled, but dubbed in Russian and subtitled in Spanish.  This modern language mash-up made the movie quite memorable indeed.  Not exactly what I expected.


I threw myself a birthday party anticipating the sinking feeling I would have in my stomach if my birthday came and went without any acknowledgement.  See the invitation below.  You were cordially invited.

When I am State-side, I find myself feeling more or less indifferent to country music, but the moment I set foot on foreign soil, it becomes my favorite of the musical genres and I can't get enough of it.  So, in honor of my heritage and Colorado in the Spring I had a "Wild West" Birthday Party.  Among the invited were the group of foreigners (mostly other Fulbrighters or housemates) that I have met, a random assortment of my colleagues (all female with one exception and very Peruvian), and an even more random assortment of the men I have met in Lima.  That sounds very sketchy, but many were friends of friends invited to even out the male:female ratio.  I spent two full days in the kitchen preparing slow-cooked beef tacos, fish tacos, mounds of salad and more onions marinated in red wine vinegar than I will ever be able to finish.  The party would have made Mom and Dad proud: everything was ready for action and the food was set out buffet-style when the guests arrived (appealing to the excellent hostess sensibilities of my mother) and each guest was obliged to wear a name-tag (appealing to my father's uncanny ability to see a name and remember its face for eternity).  I taught a group of men and then women one of the country line dances I knew, and a number of different times I was asked to serve one of my guests a fish or beef taco because the concept of serving one's self at a party is foreign here.  Not exactly what I expected.


In preparing for the party, I bought three cans of black beans and three cans of whole kernel corn for a famous Matt salad.  I got home, had the cilantro chopped up, and realized (with a sinking feeling in my stomach) that I did not have a can-opener, it was too late to go to the store, and I needed to prepare the salad that night.  I walked up to my room, found my toolkit, dug out my hammer and nails, and destroyed the top of the can.  Not exactly what I expected.


One of my favorite things about being in a foreign country is that I do things I would never normally do, like open a can with a hammer and nail and like: attempt to fix sink plumbing when water is oozing out from the sink cabinet.  After the party, and therefore after the culmination of lots of kitchen action, the sink started leaking.  So, a fellow housemate and I devoted two hours to "fixing" it, to no avail, I'm sorry to report.  In the States, I would have called a 24-hour plumbing service and waited patiently for their arrival, but without knowing how to say "plumber" in Spanish, and not the slightest idea about how to convey that the plumbing under the kitchen sink was leaking, I decided to try my hand.  I would probably have been better at jousting.  Not exactly how I expected the party to end.


On Sunday, I leave for Buenos Aires for a Fulbright seminar and I have had a sinking feeling in my stomach now for a few days.  In many ways, there is a before and an after my trip to Buenos Aires.  I was completely entranced by and in love with Buenos Aires, but life for me was exceptionally difficult during my time there.  I am expecting to wrestle with this same discrepant way of perceiving Buenos Aires in my upcoming trip, and so naturally I am excited for, but dreading, but eagerly awaiting, but avoiding preparation for the upcoming adventure.  Hopefully it's nothing like I'm expecting.