When I'm walking down the street in Montevideo, I stick out. Mostly it's because of my appearance (i.e. super fair skin and freckles) and my accent, but I can pass as somebody who's been here for more than a week if I hold my head up and stay away from words like "Colorado," "madre," and, sadly enough, "Angela" (a bit tough to avoid, that one). Unfortunately, all progress toward blending in is lost as soon as I pull out my camera or my city map.
Thus, I am faced with the study abroad student's dilemma. The truth is that I want to take pictures of everything, but it's difficult to do so discretely. It is my opinion that you lose a certain amount of legitimacy as a student seeking immersion when you behave like a tourist (if you like, we can discuss later to what degree, if at all, this it true).
In a very round about way, I'm trying to explain to you why I've henceforth declared each Friday to be "el día internacional del turista." I'm quite pleased with this solution: one day each week reserved for behaving like a tourist--I get to take as many pictures as I want and have as many unnecessary misunderstandings with clerks and taxi drivers as there are hours in the day. Ahoy!
SO, here are some of the photos I took for the inaugural Día del Turista. Click to enlarge. Enjoy!!
180 panorama of a park a few blocks away from the Facultad de Humanidades para República.
Right: A glimpse of the entrance hall at the Facultad de Humanidades, complete with a welcome board for new students.
Left: A bit of graffiti near my host family's house. "La Blanqueada" is the name of the barrio (neighborhood) where they live.
Right: My host family's house from the outside. :D More pictures of them will appear in the future, I'm sure.
Left: A football/handball stadium on the beach ("Playa Pocitos," specifically) where Mary, Lily, and I took a walk before our tango lesson. Yes, it was cliche and yes I loved every minute of it.
Right: Mary en la playa. This is the view from the opposite side of the 360 panorama I took the other day.
We ate at a small pizzeria called "The Princess" after the tango lesson. There hints of Italian influence everywhere in Uruguayan culture, perhaps most noticeably in the food. Pizza + Patricia + gelato-esque ice cream after dinner = lo mejor.
Thank you for your patience. These were both marathon posts and I'm sure they weren't made any better by my choppy English. Oddly enough, my English has suffered at the hands of my Spanish; a David-and-Goliath-esque struggle, I imagine.
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