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Saturday, August 14, 2010

Spring Training for Seabiscuit



Last monday I went to class at the first time at La Universidad de Buenos Aires (UBA). This is a university with a student body size bigger than probably 75% of the cities of the world. There are 350 thousand students that attend this prestigious Buenos Aires university. I did the math, and that comes out to about 2.5% of the entire population of Buenos Aires. That being said, that just shows how absolutely enormous this city is. Thankfully, not all students are in the same place at once. That would make Tokyo station at 8am look like a walk in the park. Anyhow, the relevant facultad for my class is conveniently about a 20 minute walk from my house. So, monday morning I made the trek and found myself in the neighborhood of the school. I walked by an open doorway, and peeked inside and saw graffiti absolutely everywhere, and kept walking. A few steps later my mind caught up and actually processed what the graffiti meant, and I thought that might have been it. I looked up at the wall next to me, and there was Facultad de Ciencias Sociales in block letters. Or what used to say Facultad de Ciencias Sociales. Half of the letters were gone and half of what was left were cracked and missing parts. So it wasn't the nice looking building down the block that was actually a hospital? Shame. My first impression of UBA though made me think I might see the inside of that shining hospital at some point anyway.

I walked in, and instantly wondered why Marx didn't do his thing in Buenos Aires. Forget London. Every scrap of free space was either covered by quasi-Communist graffiti, signs spouting socialist slogans, or tables covered with flyers with upcoming demonstrations and solicitations to join some sort of leftist group. 'The Capitalists will pay!' 'We want a worker's party free from authority and government!' and the like graced the walls. I unfortunately don't have any pictures (yet), since I figured taking pictures on day 1 might get me thrown in the gulag. The class I'm taking there is an International Security seminar, which if the first class is anything to go by should be absolutely phenomenal. I'm expecting the professor to cancel class due to strikes at least once during the semester; I hear that's pretty common.

If I'm going to look anything like the workers starring in the soviet propaganda posters, I need to bulk up a bit. So Tuesday morning saw me walking around my barrio visiting several different gyms. I think I found one that will work great. Afterwards, though, as I was walking back I stumbled across a little soccer center that also has a basketball court. Albeit a miniature one, but it has two hoops and is rectangular, which is all that matters. I walk in and talk to the guy behind the bar about playing some pickup ball, and I was told that every night at 8 people play. Awesome. So the next night I come back at 8, all ready to play, and there's a soccer game going on the court. At any other time I would be excited to see that, but watching people kick a ball on the basketball court right then and there was a serious buzz-kill. I walked back inside, and it was the same guy behind the bar. I asked when people play, and he said that the only time basketball is played is at 6:30 on Tuesdays. I don't think he liked me very much for some reason - he didn't really look at me when he was talking. I took the hint and signed up for the primetime slot on ESPN Argentina, called it The Decision II and told the world I would take my services elsewhere.

Thursday saw me testing my last class at UCA- Public Sector Economics. As dull as the name sounds, I think the class is going to be great. It's just a friend and I from the program in a class with about 20 Argentines. The professor is great; we spent the majority of day 1 discussing economic policy changes in the 1930s. By the end of the class I think the US of A was the United States of John and Jake because every time the US was brought up (which was every other sentence) the professor glanced our way. It was the most I've spoken in class so far in Argentina. I've also learned the Argentine equivalent of capiche - chacai? If the A's could win as many games as the number of times my professor said Cachai, making the playoffs would be the least of their problems. The topic material does sound interesting, despite what many may think, and combined with the classroom atmosphere I think it should turn out to be a fun class.

Yesterday I made my way to the HipĆ³dromo in San Isidro, a wealthy barrio in the northern reaches of the city. We took a local train, which is famously unreliable. Maybe it has something to do with the train company not seeming like they have a lot of money because just about everyone jumped the barrier to get onto the platform. I followed a crowd through an open gate both ways, and didn't ever have to use the ticket I bought. If people are still trying to figure out what triggered the economic crisis of a few years ago, go check out Retiro train station.

The racetrack facilities at the HipĆ³dromo are huge - I think it has a capacity of 200,000 people. Unfortunately the UBA student body won't fit there, but no matter. We were there with about 100 other people (it apparently isn't the middle of big racing season), but it was awesome to see some of the races. They measure their races in meters, but we watched a three-quarter mile and a mile race. I'd definitely like to come back when the place is rocking - I'm sure it has to be an unbelievable experience. No bets were made, but I should have put some money down because I called the winning horse both times. Send him to Vegas, ladies and gents!


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