The apartment search is over. I'm living on Peatonal Sarandí, a pedestrian street in Ciudad Vieja (Old City). It's cold, and that's just a part of life here I'm going to have to live with. I'm sharing the flat with a masters student from Spain named Cecilia, who speaks little English, but is very patient in helping me with spanish. Here are some photos of the flat:
View to the left
View to the right
Now that this part is over, I should get to experience more of the music, and culture in general. Not that I've just been sitting.
Last Tuesday, I attended a candombe workshop in Buceo, and played for the first time. I had no idea I was going, thus the lack of photos. The experience was amazing, and I was welcomed by everyone there, being told that "Club Buceo is now my home." Another old man told me that in nine months, I would have the "sangre uruguaya." I'm actually hoping these workshops will become a regular part of my time here.
Just this past Tuesday, I attended a masterclass given by Osvaldo Fattoruso. Most of the recordings I have of Uruguayan popular music incorporating candombe feature Hugo and Osvaldo Fattoruso. He's a phenomonal drumset player, who I hope will contribute to my research. I recommend listening to Hugo Fattoruso and Rey Tambor. Phenomonal!
Tomorrow I finally go to Mundo Afro and begin working with Alvaro Salas, one of my primary affiliations here. So I promise pictures!
On a side note, I'm extremely lucky to be in Montevideo and have this opportunity. However, I learned today that David Carter, one of my oldest friends, had a stroke. I've not seen or spoke to him since our 10 year high school reunion in 2005, but this kind of news hits hard, and makes it difficult to be so far away.
So I made a bad decision. All to save money. The first, and only, night in the shared apartment was one of the most painful of my life. I'm now back in a hotel, warm, sleepy, and preparing to go look at more apartments tomorrow.
I left the hotel and arrived at 1188 Mercedes around noon on Monday, was given my keys, and then got my bags to what was to be my room, chosen because it was "más tranquilo." I shortly realized my definition of clean linens, is not a definition shared by the landlord. It was also cold. Then I met Joan (this is how the "landlord" spelled his name), an old Castellano who liked to talk. I asked him if he liked the apartment, and I'm translating here: "No, but I leave Friday." Great. But I had things to do, so I set up my computer, got directions to the Universidad de la Republica, and went to a percussion masterclass. I had a good time, and attending these sessions are extremely helpful for my spanish listening skills. Masterclass ends, I go "home."
I go inside, and I meet Maude (spelling?) and Valentina. Two French architecture students attending the Universidad, also wanting an affordable place for the year. Maude had yellow rubber gloves on, and was cleaning the toilet, to which a seat didn't stay connected. I'm going to mention here that I just walked several blocks in the cold, but it's colder in the apartment. But anyway, Valentina was scrubbing the stove. Both girls were very agitated, and had only been there one day more than me. They were sharing a room so they could share space heaters. I then realized my space heater was gone. Sent a big text to the landlord, and she said she took the space heater for my room with her. Luckily the French girls loaned me one. I like space heaters, but this one didn't help. I was freezing, and awake all night. And "tranquilo?" Everyone reading probably has an appropriate translation, but I guess at this place, it's different. There was a dog that barked, and I thought several times it was actually in my room. There were crashes, booming footsteps, a howling washing machine. Oh, and did I mention brutal cold.
How I made it through the night.
Luckily I had not signed a contract, so I left, and feel pretty much the way I did last Tuesday when I got off the plane. I hope its not going to be a weekly thing. Anyway, enjoy the pics of what was my "flat."
My room, aside from dirty sheets and towels, not bad.
With little inspection, this just looks old and rustic. Wrong.
I originally thought scuff marks. Wrong again, that's alive.
I don't know if I'm making this painful or not, but I am curious if other Uruguayan Fulbrighters had similar apartment search experiences. But this is the frustrating part, because I know everytime I'm trying to find a place, I'm not getting to do what I came here to do. I mean, I'd like for this blog to more often be like the previous post.
As I begin writing this, it's 10am (Aug. 8), and I'm sitting in my hotel room waiting to check-out and begin the move to my new place. A room in a shared apartment, near downtown Montevideo. It wasn't what I was hoping for, but will allow me to eat. It also places me in a better location to meet up with many of the comparsas I'm here to study.
I'm writing though, because I wanted to try and capture a little of my experiences yesterday before they fade. Victoria's father is sick, so she was unable to attend the feria, but I decided to check it out anyway. I walked up to Parque Rodo, where the closest one was happening. The street market was overwhelming. There were tents crammed together in three long rows, with vendors selling virtually anything you can imagine. If you've ever attended an L.A. or Orange County flea market, it was very similar, except much tighter, and at times claustrophobic.
However, the market itself wasn't the main attraction. As I was preparing to leave, I heard drums. TAMBORILES!! I probably looked like a complete lunatic as I weaved my way towards the sound. Everyone else was so calm! But at a small pond in the middle of the park was Laluma, Comparsa de Parque Rodo. Please understand, I've been waiting pretty much two years to see en vivo a tamboril uruguayo, so this was a pretty spectacular moment. I arrived as the comparsa was lining up to begin marching, but I could see the debris from the fire which had been used for tuning the heads. SO EXCITED!! Then they started playing, and were quickly stopped by their jefe (leader). After a few rounds of starting and stopping, they finally started moving through park, but I must admit, I was a little disappointed. This wasn't the candombe I've heard on recordings. Still, it was exciting to see in person for the first time. I think it's also important to recognize they different types of people involved with this group, and how it allows for community participation and pride.
After returning home, aside from finding a home, I basically spent the rest of the day waiting to meet Victoria to go see Sinfonia de Ansina. This group, I was told, is one of the best, and oh my god, words can't express what it felt like to walk up Calle Isla de Flores, and see the fire on the street, and hear the drums being tuned. People were coming in from every direction to see the cuerda's (drumline's) first rehearsal of the year. Everyone there had some sort of drink that they were more than happy to share with anyone, especially the drummers: wine in boxes, bottles in brown paper bags, and liter Coke bottles filled with what I'm guessing is 7 y 3 (Coke and wine). It was cool being with Victoria, as it seemed everyone knew "Pico," and she could explain to me a lot of what was happening. This entire time, the street is filling up and sections of the drumming ensemble are taking time to work their respective rhythms. Slowly the group came together, formed strict rows, and then...CANDOMBE!! I didn't expect it to start, but once it did, my entire core was grabbed by the bass of the piano drum, and all at once the entire street began to move. I can't explain this, it was like a wave, and then being caught in a current. I was finally able to get to my camera, and though it isn't the best video, in many ways it's appropriate to give an idea of exactly what I was experiencing.
Needless to say, I left elated, probably almost skipping to the bus stop. I didn't sleep much last night; some anxiousness about the apartment situation, but also the incessant borocotó of Ansina's rhythm still had its hold.
So I'm getting asked a lot about when I'm updating, so I guess it's time for something quick:
At this time, my life in Montevideo has been consumed by looking for an apartment, figuring out using a cell phone (or any phone), and demonstrating in general just how much of an international travel novice I really am. Here's what I've learned so far:
Chivitos is delicious:
Montevideo loves statues. They're everywhere. Here's two I've photographed so far:
Ghandi on the Rambla
General Artigas in Plaza Independencia
Maybe I'll start an album of every statue I see here, but it would be extensive. Aside from this, Montevideo is architecturally all over the place. There's old colonial, reminding me of Charleston or New Orleans, but with more sidewalk. Many buildings are modern, but often stuck in the middle is something completely bizarre. For instance, Castillo Pitamiglio, just two blocks from my hotel, in the middle of the nice neighborhood of Pocitos (this is pretty much across the street from Ghandi's bust):
Castillo Pitamiglio
Most of what I've been doing since being here though is apartment hunting. Muy difícil y caro (expensive). My hotel is in the extremely expensive neighborhood of Pocitos, which is also where most of the apartments I've looked at are located. Pocitos is beautiful, especially the Rambla along the Rio de la Plata.
I guess Nadia owns this stretch...
But back to apartments! Along with basically needing three months rent up front, I'm going to be lucky if I get to eat at all for the remainder of August. Luckily the hotel includes breakfast, so I load up for the day. However, I do have some options I'm checking out this weekend, and hopefully this part of business here will be complete.
Aside from the apartment search, I did meet with Fulbright, which allowed me to see some of downtown and use the bus system, which is great, except that streets aren't well marked here. This wasn't a problem when I went to the Fulbright office, but my next bus trip was at night, and I missed my stop by five blocks.
This bus ride was my trip to meet Victoria (Pico) Riñon, one of my Fulbright affiliations. I actually had the opportunity to meet her entire family, tried mate (I liked), was fed Uruguayan pizza (delicious!!), and had my first awkward moment with the Uruguayan tradition of one kiss on the cheek. Until meeting Victoria's brother, I realized I had only met women in Uruguay, and there's always the single kiss on the cheek. I'm still not sure how this works for the men, but I'm only going handshake from here on out. All was fine, but there were laughs. Her brothers Juan Pablo and "Nacho" both love glam rock, so I felt right at home. I was shown videos of their Guns N Roses tribute band, and they're pretty awesome. Nacho is the drummer, and is a big fan of Tommy Lee, but is a much better drummer. Victoria is awesome, and has been a huge help so far. Tomorrow I'm meeting with her to attend my first street market, and finally, dominguero, a street party with candombe drumming!!! And it's in Ansina, one of the historic birthplaces of candombe (insert finger snapping a-la Simon Gomez here).
So I'll leave it at that, but next week is already filling up with things to do, including a Dan Moore (University of Iowa) clinic at the Universidad de la República. Kind of strange, since the first clinicians I remember seeing at the University of South Carolina was the Britain/Moore duo.
Anyway, buen día!
