*PICS ADDED* Rain stopped play...and some sad news.

We didn´t go to Polo. Rain stopped play. Maybe tomorrow.

Ended up going down to the coast and having a massive feed in a restaurant looking out over the river, having met with the new voluntarias (3 girls, Kristen from Florida, and two Irish girls, Finula and...ummm, I forgot). 35 Pesos each, under 6 quid each for yummy meal, wine, dessert.

Strolling it off, we stopped to gaze at Paraguay on the other side. We´ve been told by pretty much everyone who lives here that Paraguay is dull dull dull, but we fancy going over just to get the stamp in my passport. It´s just over a bridge, a day trip.

I took a pic on x12 zoom, and when I zoomed in again I could virtually look into someone´s house! That´s one *fine* camera, the Canon Ixus.


This is Paraguay from the Argentinian coast. Looks appealing, no?

Everyone says just go to this market on the Posadas coast, derogatorily called ´Paraguay in a Box´, where apparently you can find anything worth seeing without crossing the border. We went: a load of maté cups, bad underwear, worse shoes and all sorts of tat you would never want. Might give Paraguay a miss after all.
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Oh. And I´m afraid to say, Winnie died in the night. Kirsten was upset, but relieved the little one wasn´t suffering any more. Apparently it´s really hard to rear them in captivity and this is the 4th one they´ve had die on them. RIP Pooh bear :(




R.I.P. Winnie the Bear. May-June 2008.

*PICS ADDED* The rain is back, and my visit to El Refugio...

Realised I´d said nothing about work this week...it´s not been all play play play (honest!), but we have settled into a nice little routine and school, as Irish Ali would say, is "grand".

Tuesday was torrential rain: I allowed myself the luxury of a cab into work, which cost me just over a quid. We were shocked to find out the rain meant that 5a had all of 4 students (out of 25!), 6b fairing only slightly better with 10/22 kids. There seemed little point starting the new subjects I´d prepared, so we 3 teachers revised all the vocab learnt with team games of hangman and my now-famous Rolf-Harris-style game. The teachers here were quite unphased, the kids don´t come to school if the weather is bad.

C said it´s a policy he´d love to introduce to the workplace in England, but I pointed out we´d never get into work.

On Wednesday, 5b wrote a HUGE sign on the board:



The incorrect spelling made it all the more adorable. It could´ve been for any of us, but as the chicas dragged *me* over to it and hadn´t put an "S" on the end, I think it was for *me*, and me alone, of course.

Thursday, the (grown up) boys were all broken, after our Wednesday night at Sampaka (a jovial evening, with me & C, Ali, John, Tom, V and Marcello), the guys headed out for more at 12.30 (The chicas opted to go to bed earlier, much to John´s undisguised delight at the chance of a boy´s evening out).

I laughed at C for thinking he could keep up with the young uns, as the alarm bleeped pain and regret into his head with every push of the ´snooze´ button.

Running late myself, I power-walked in to find (at 8.55) no Ali or John. Fabiana informed me "no classe hoy". Eh?! So Ali & John were having a big old lie in?!??! I sighed heavily, and grumbled/mumbled in English under my breath, although my body language told her, "Someone could have effin´ told me".

Just then, they arrived. Ah. No one had told them either.

A hungover John struggled to comprehend that we really did have no classes today (we´re still not sure why, quite often they´ll just chop and change our schedule for no reason), Fabiana laughed she could smell whiskey on his breath (he was mortified) and we all repeatedly told him that we were free to go (I was virtually pushing him out the door lest F change her mind).

Ali & I laughed as a group of about 20 pubescent schoolgirls had watched us say goodbye to John at the gates as then they proceeded to follow him and run back nervously giggling and daring their mates to get closer. John, heading off home to get some kip, was oblivious to his growing, hormonal, fanbase.

We girls headed into town, glad of the chance to hit the one coffee bar and shops before siesta (everything shuts as we finish work at 12...even, inexplicably, the cafés and sandwich shops...still not worked out what people do for lunch!).

And on the hottest day this week, I managed to get a coat, 23 quid, with a comedically big furry hood.
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Friday: Raining again. Another day off work as they were fumigating the place to get rid of the mice in preparation for Monday´s 75th birthday party celebrations at the school (weirdly from 8 - 10.30 am, and no lessons again!)

We (John, Ali, Tom & I) had agreed to all go to help C on his last day at the Refugio. I was feeling a bit nervous, after all I´d heard from C. And he was bringing cake and pop for a girl´s birthday and presents for them all.

Feral kids, sugar and E-numbers!??!?! Help.

In the end, I thought the Refugio was nowhere *near* as bad as he´d painted it, although it was nowhere any kid should have to live.

I´m wondering if C´s a bit of a drama queen, or as he said, the kids (and the acrid smell of urine) were a lot more subdued today because of the rain.

Anyway, they were incredibly excited that C had brought his "nobia" (me) to the refugio. I was greeted shyly by some of the girls, hugged by a few and asked questions. Touchingly, they called me "Tia" immediately (C is "Tio" - uncle) and kept coming up for hugs and kisses.

One of the special-needs kids, Danny ran towards me, eyes shut (C thinks he´s partially blind), mouth open and silent, and enveloped me in a huge hug. He can´t speak, he´s 9, still in nappies, and malnutritioned, is the height of a 6 year old. I hugged him back, warmly and said "Hola Danny!". I felt I knew them and their names better than my own school kids from C´s numerous photos.

Walter, his younger brother, (also special needs, C says they really shouldn´t be there) with a face full of red scabs and sores (he scratches himself in his sleep) then came to hug me and grabbed me by the hands, with wet slobbery fingers to excitedly show me round his 4 room home (for 30-40 kids, 2 bedrooms, some sleep in the area they also eat in).

He excitedly pointed at the telly in the main indoor room (he can´t speak. He´s 7, looks 4), pulled me to the kitchen, asked the older girls for water by pointing, sweetly offered me his cup (I pretended to take a sip and said a big "Mmmmm! Gracias, Walter!"), and then dragged me to show off their tiny shared bedroom quarters.

I did not take photos of their rooms, sorry. I somehow think that sort of thing is disrespectful and a bit touristy to be honest. The other day, I´d had a go at C, after he informed me of yet more pictures of Walter´s face, supposedly to ´prepare´ me for my visit. I said that I didn´t need to be made any more apprehensive about my visit, thank you, and that Walter was a child, not a freakshow.

But believe me that the place was just above squalid. Filthy bedding, graffitied walls, not enough chairs (some were forced to eat standing up), no toys to speak of. I didn´t spot any staff, nor any security: it appeared the older girls looked after the other kids, and the front door was open, so the kids appear to come and go as they please.


C´s favourite boy, Augustin, with C´s cap on. Looks like a tiny Tiger Woods. Smiles all the time although he has nothing and no-one. A humbling lesson for us all there.

My favourite girl, Chou Chou. Kept hugging me and calling me Tia. Said she loved me after a few mins. It´s all they want, to be loved back.

Shortly after they´ve had the presents, a bit of a group shot with C in the middle and Ali (at the back, peeking over the top of the kids!).

John watching the kids drawing with the paper and felt tips we brought that day. They have no toys at all unless volunteers bring them in and they never last long.

We managed to give them a lovely morning, anyway. C had brought cakes, muffins, fizzy pop and presents (friendship bracelets for the older kids, stickers for the younger ones whose wrists would have been too small) and we created something of an atmosphere, party-cum-riot with these small pleasures.

C had the great idea to get me drawing animals, so like a kid´s entertainer, I soon had a crowd of children from 3-15 queuing up to have their favourite animals drawn, to which I added "Para (and their name), Besos! Sapna x".

My heart broke a little bit as I said goodbye (but I promised to come back Monday). They are such lovely, sweet kids, and I left feeling a bit guilty that I´d changed my project, but there are two good reasons, I justified: 1) I´m making good progress at my school 2) I would end up falling in love with Augustin (Cs´ favourite, a gorgeous 3 year old Tiger Woods lookalike) or, my favourite cutie, nicknamed "Chou Chou", a little girl about 3, who kept wanting to be picked up and said "Te ama" more than once.

I knew I´d have ended up, after a month, wanting to adopt one of them.
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This evening we visited Ali in her new pad. She´s moved in with Kirsten cos her other flatshare wasn´t working out and is much happier already. There was a sadness though, as K was red-nosed from crying: we think Winnie the honey bear is dying.

She´d not been eating and in the space of 3 hours, whilst K had been out, lapsed into a deep, floppy sleep, from which she couldn´t be woken.

I turned up armed with wine, which we demolished whilst we tried to take K´s mind off it, between calls to and from the vet with updates.

The prognosis doesn´t look good, I´m afraid. :(

Everyone has gone out to meet the new voluntarios tonight (not Tom & John though, they´ve gone away to Iguazu Falls, it´s Tom´s last weekend, and Iguazu is the local "must see").

I´m staying in. I´m feeling strangely down, what with the bear news and the realisation this morning that my two workmates, now friends, are going to be gone in 2 weeks (work has whizzed with them to share it with) and I will be back at work struggling on my own again before I know it.

Anyway, Polo tomorrow. Laters amigos.

Rain, rain go away...and soapy suds a-plenty

I did *not* sign up for this horrid weather and *still* can´t find a coat I like. :(

On the plus side, C & I went to Tango again last night, and now know 5 different moves, which we can put together in a passable, if slow, routine. C´s even managing to steer me effortlessly round others, rather than crashing into them as we were last week. Sometimes.

There was a very suave young guy there last night, all chiselled cheekbones and dark curly hair, who checked me out when he walked in. Fancy footwork, I couldn´t help but stare a little bit. Exactly the sort of guy C was scared might sweep me away! I said, cheekily, that I reckoned he could teach me a thing or two (about Tango...natch) and C held me just that bit closer. Sweet.

C called him a ´Tango slut´ as he danced with about 5-6 different ladies that evening, but as I´ve said, there´s a shortage of males, so I reckoned he was just spreading the love. Most were old enough to be his mum!

A basic white room, with a mirror along one wall and an antiquated computer (Windows 95) playing the tunes, "Dancing with the Stars", it aint.

Not least the Argentinian TV version which we have watched slack-jawed on TV (me in incredulity, C with a little bit of drool) as the chicas are wearing virtually next to nothing, two tiny triangles over their enormous blow-up breasts and a postage-stamp for a thong, displaying their Argentinian Brazilians to all and sundry.

The host even lay on the floor looking "up" as one did some high kicks and he later actually cut her ´knickers´ off with a pair of scissors (there was a tinier pair beneath...). With the cameras spanning tight mid-riffs and lingering over boobs and butts, they manage to make old Benny Hill shows from the 70s look P.C. My dad (and most blokes, I reckon) would love it.

Argentinian women on the telly seem to have a lot of plastic surgery...a couple of the celebrity dancers with better figures than most 20 year olds, I was told, were 55 and 47...it was seriously only when the camera came closer that you could see the slightly crepey neck and hands...If you ever want a slight nip-tuck, this is the place...
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I went to buy some shower gel after Tango (the shops stay open till 10) and, as in the UK, I refused a plastic bag for one item.

A 10 minute walk home and I found the lid had come off and my i-pod, digital camera, pens, make-up bag, mobile, Spanish phrase book, notebook and gloves were literally *swimming* in the slimey, sticky goo.

C & I spent an hour cleaning up. Miraculously, with my ipod/camera being in cases and my USB stick with all my pics on and Tom´s ipod (which Kirsten had charged up and given me to return via John not 3 hours earlier...) in side pockets, everything was unharmed.

However, I´ve learnt my lesson; no more saving air miles or money by buying local (crappy packaging) - I´m back to buying imported brands again (Dove, Pantene, Johnson´s) and I´m DOUBLE-BAGGING.

On the plus side, all my stuff smells lovely.
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We needed a drink after that, so C suggested a local haunt I´d been wanting to go to since we got here, Cafe Sampaka (I pass it daily, on my walk to work).

We went out at 11.30 (I´m getting into Argie timing with my siestas), but the only people in there were a good-looking man and an older feller playing cards. The younger leapt up to serve us. We were actually the only clientele in there!

Normally, this would put me off, but turns out it´s the coolest bar ever, run by this guy, Mario and his brother in law, Carlos (who was behind the bar, sorting the tunes).

The music was great; a remix CD of a world-famous Argentinian DJ called Herman Castaña (?) - C has some of his CDs on Global Underground - and they got chatting. They burned C a CD, which he was v chuffed about.

A lot of bars in Argentina don´t sell wine by the glass so you *have* to get a bottle (nightmare, eh?!), but seeing as C was on beer, I was left with a dilemma. In the end I ordered the bottle (um, what did you *think* I was going to do?!) and managed to get them to agree to keep it behind the bar for me for next time.

Mario even rang his wife, Laura who teaches English to come down with their baby (at about 12.30!) and she brought down a tired but incredibly cute and smiley little girl, 8 months, who her uncle Carlos (Laura´s bro) held on a bar stool, her dummy in his mouth, so she could ´dance´ with her hands in the air. (Aren´t ravers getting younger these days?!)

I didn´t have my camera (it was drying out) so I´ll get pics another time.

We left at 2am - so much for one drink.

Sampaka´s only been open a month (same time we´ve been here) which is why they don´t have much custom yet.

Their music´s much better than Power though (which is full of 18 year olds and you can´t hear yourself speak...sorry I just turned 85 for a bit there) and the service is fantastico.

To give business a boost and start spreading the word (you can take the girl out of advertising...) I´ve invited all the volunteers tonight and Veronica and her hubby Marcello to join us after dinner. As V is the In-country Co-ordinator for i-to-i, I´m going to ask her to start promoting it to all her voluntarios (and her own mates too)
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And it´s turning warmer again...yay!

Two bits of news I forgot, and an update

1) The mystery of the missing bra ends. Well, it´s re-appeared *by magic* in my drawer, freshly washed. Nothing was said, so I´ll say nothing. Very strange though. Just as well, cos the figleaves one my mum posted (along with my cash card) hasn´t got here, 10 days after posting...

2) Graciela, the head, has got Veronica to agree to me doing 4 more weeks at the school - YAY! So no horrific Refugio. They´ve got three other volunteers starting there next week anyway so I won´t be missed, and this 4 weeks will take me nicely to my school´s winter break. I think most voluntarios (like John & Ali) do max 4 weeks, so to have this continuity will be massively beneficial for the kids. A lot of work alone though, so I´m not looking forward to my last 2 weeks already!

UPDATE: Saturday night: We met in a bar with Tom, John, Ali, Kirsten (she´d fed the bear and put her to bed), Catherine, her boyfriend Scott and some random ginger guy, from Geneva called Timothy (Tom & John had met him earlier that day when they went to the Jesuit Ruins...those old rocks I told you about). He looked like he had a comedy ginger Scouse wig & tache, but he was a really nice guy.

Tom amused me by admitting that when he hung out with John the girls came flocking and he was quite happy to take John´s cast-offs!!!

The bar was fun, then we went onto Power.

Seriously, why do we bother? Power was shite the first time we went, and then just as bad on the Saturday. We managed to stay till about 5am (we only got there 2.30am) and headed home.

I think John enjoyed it as he went off sharking immediately (joined by Tom, but eventually Tom returned to us in the Electronica room, his less-proficient Spanish, and thick N.Ireland accent, making communication with the chicas almost impossible on a noisy crowded dancefloor), but for anyone who just wanted to dance, the music was shockingly bad, even in the Electronica room.

I knew we were in trouble when the best tune was ´Rhythm is a Dancer´ played twice within an hour. In between the tuneless bleeps and tragic mixing (the overhead said he was from Pacha...if that DJ has even been in as a punter, I´ll eat my Tango heels) he managed to tease us with a bit of Faithless ´Insomnia´, which he just as quickly took off as soon as we looked like we were enjoying ourselves.

Seemingly oblivious to the reaction of the 8 people on the tiny dancefloor (most of which were us), they switched back to tuneless bleeps, like teenage boys experimenting with their first Bontempi organ. As the worse type of men do, they seemed to be playing for only their own pleasure.

C & I left, vowing to not bother again.
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Sunday: I was in a bit of a huff with Aida today as she had told me off for speaking 6 words of English yesterday. (It´s exhausting speaking Spanish all the time and I wasn´t even speaking to her!)

She does this all the time, even if I´m speaking privately to C, which is annoying enough but bearable, but what *really* hacked me off though was that she said I *never* bothered speaking Spanish and that only C made the effort, which is a blatant lie, in fact my Spanish is better than his, and Mariana and C said as much to her - in Spanish - in my defence. I was furious though. I wanted to say "I´ve quit my job to come here, I´m learning your language, you´ve had loads of volunteers and have not bothered to learn any English, I am doing *voluntary work* here, we are paying to stay at yours, I´m tired, exhausted, Mariana speaks English and it was just a couple of mugs I needed, so JUST SHUT UP and LEAVE ME ALONE!!!´ but I seethed, silently instead. We´re here for another 5 weeks, no point rocking the boat.

So I stayed in bed for as long as I could, reading my novel, sleeping, and C brought me up a hot chocolate (sorry, "chocolate caliente") for sustenance.

Eventually, at 5.30, hunger got the better of me so I had to come downstairs. I managed to not say very much though, even at dinner, feigning tiredness.

C wasn´t very sympathetic when I had a rant to him about it later that evening, till I reminded him how supportive I´d been when Aida had told me yesterday to tell him to stop creating so much washing. (Ummm, how?! The refugio and kids are filthy so he *has* to change when he gets in. He also doesn´t want to wear his nice clothes to work, so he´s in effect getting through 2 sets a day). We´re going to find a laundrette, and then he won´t have to ration his pants and socks, or just keep buying more and more when he runs out (we have the EU sock mountain going on here).

A late (at night) posting, it´s 1.51 now, but I couldn´t get on till late tonight, Flor had more college work to do, and I needed to lesson prep: 1) los partes del cuerpo (parts of the body) and 2) physical descriptions.

We didn´t go to Tango tonight: John called off, which I was cool about; it´s CHUCKING it down right now, as it has been since about 3pm today (again, miraculously it stopped for 15 mins, just enough time for me to get home from Ali´s where we had lunch, and decadently polished off a daytime bottle of wine, despite promises to only have one glass each), and I just feel like getting under the blankets in this horrible cold weather :(