Lice and Life in Argentina

After finishing school in the end of November and beginning summer vacation, life was pretty quiet and uneventful for a while. I spent my days with my host family, learning how to survive the intense daily heat and humidity (by planting yourself in front of a fan and staying inside all day, or casually inviting yourself over to someone’s house who has a pool). I did all of this with what I thought was just my family, sadly unaware that there were unwelcome visitors tagging along every day.

Shortly after I arrived in Argentina, my scalp began to itch. The water down here has more sodium, so I blamed my itchy head on dry skin. As the weeks went by and the itching intensified, I still thought nothing of it. It wasn’t until one night, when my itching craze had reached the point to where I scratched so hard I drew blood, that I learned the truth. In the morning, mortified, I told my host mom that I thought I had lice, and began to cry partially out of humiliation and partially out of disgust. My mom began to laugh, and pulled me in for a close hug, calling me “mi amor” (my love). Ummm…what?

In the United States, if anyone had lice, that person would be avoided like the plague. Here however, I found out that not only is it common to have lice, but it is nothing to be ashamed of. After telling me that I most likely did have lice and informing me that my host sister regularly gets it, my host mom essentially reassured me that I would have it again at some point. She told me that this is a “pais de piojos”, or a “country of lice”. So that’s definitely something to look forward to. At least now, if I’m feeling lonely, it will be easy to find company willing enough to not only spend time with me, but live with me day and night.

In the beginning of December my host siblings’ cousin got married! I was able to experience two days of festivities because here, when someone gets married, there is a civil wedding and a religious wedding. The civil wedding took place in the middle of the day in a tiny room into which the bride, groom, and extended family from each side crowded. There was an officiator who spoke a bit, asked the couple and a few others to sign some documents, and BOOM! They were officially married! Everyone rushed outside and eagerly threw fist-fulls of rice into the newlyweds’ faces. Afterwards, we all went to a beautiful reception party filled with food, music, food, dancing, and more food. I was astounded by the amount of food, yet everyone assured me that it was nothing compared to what would happen during the religious wedding, and how right they were.

At the civil wedding

Dancing line with grandma!!

 

At the religious wedding

Two days later, at 10:00 pm, I went with my family to a church for the religious wedding. I was surprised by how informal everything seemed; the cultural differences were definitely notable, but it was interesting to observe. The priest  jokingly reprimanded the groom for not supporting the same soccer team as him, because soccer is life here. The entire ceremony was over in less than 45 minutes, but then the real party began. All of the family members and friends went to a beautiful reception building to begin the festivities. When we arrived, everyone mingled outside, eating what I thought would be dinner for the entire night. Along with an outdoor bar, there were numerous tables groaning under the weight of platters filled with delicacies. Everyone failed to mention that these were just the appetizers, however, and so when we finally moved inside at midnight to truly begin the night (or morning?), I was stuffed. Everyone was assigned their own table, all of which surrounded a dance floor overhung by disco balls and laser lights. The rest of the night was filled with dancing, but not traditional wedding dancing - hardcore, jumping-up-and-down-and-yelling, throwing-the-bride-in-the-air - dancing. It was madness, and I loved every minute. People of all ages went to dance, and I quickly realized that I was the only one unable to move my hips. All of the girls here, it doesn’t matter if they are 2 or 94, can dance flawlessly, shaking their hips to the rhythm. I have had people try to teach me countless times to no avail. I swear it’s just a skill with which they are born.

Bride, groom, and several cousins

This wedding was so different from anything I had experienced in the United States - at 2 am, waiters brought out the first course, and the rest of the evening was filled with dancing punctuated by food breaks. The main meal arrived at 3 am, followed by a first dessert at 4 am, then the countless dessert carts and tables at 5 am, followed by pizzas and a whole pig to make sandwiches at 6 am (just in case anyone was still hungry), followed by a coffee cart at 7 am. Just when I thought that that was it for the night, someone would bring more food. Apart from the food, at around 5 am, waiters came to fill the tables with funny hats, glow in the dark bracelets, and other costume items that everyone promptly seized. After adorning themselves, the people rushed back onto the dance floor. I couldn’t believe that everyone lasted the entire night! There were elderly folk who were still wide-awake after having spent the entire night dancing. I have to hand it to them, the Argentinians know how to throw a real party.

My host brothers ready to party!

The day after the wedding, after going to bed at 8 in the morning, I had the opportunity to participate in a “peregrinacion” (I don’t know the English translation). Every year, there is only one or two, during which people walk from various towns to the city of Lujan, where there is a basilica. Along the way, the people pray and repent. There was a group of people going from the Cathedral that I attend, and so even though I was exhausted, I decided to go because I think this will be one of the only times in my life that I will have the opportunity. I left at 1 am to walk over 35 kilometers to Lujan throughout the night, singing and laughing with my group. Needless to say, I was pooped when we arrived, but I did it and am incredibly proud! 

Cathedral group at our halfway point...only 18 more kilometers to go!

I MADE IT. Still standing, somehow, in the Basilica

Now I am on summer vacation and plan to enjoy every minute assuming I don't first melt in a puddle of my own sweat!