the thing about things
things.
oh things.
we have a constant relationship to our things. a spectrum of intensities, from clinging materialism to indifference to Buddha-style shirking. two times in my life, I've had to seriously reconsider the way my possessions factor into my existence, and both times I've been better for it. both of them were hard because I have a certain thing-nostalgia akin to that of Pablo Neruda. I really like stories, I like oldness, I like the way things become worn with use and life, doing what they were and were not invented to do. I like the thingness of a thing, even if it doesnt work, because of a texture or a color. Even more fundamentally, its connected to my fascination with materials that motivates my trash->art experiments. Coming to Buenos Aires with two suitcases and my dog marks the third, and so I've been ruminating on what made it here with me and what I ended up leaving behind, and its been startlingly self-effacing daydreaming
the first experience came when our house burned down when I was in middle school. adolescence is already a time of coming-of-age, struggling-with-identity, and all of that, so losing most of my things was a really abrupt catalyst for reconsidering how I connected with my past and present. It was also the first time I had to really realize how MUCH we have, and how little it takes to be happy, to remember meaningful events and relationships, to have fun, to move foward, to feel at home. I can't even begin to say that it was something I enjoyed, really, I was 13 and was none too pleased to bumble my way awkwardly through not having these things around me to prop up my notions of self. who am I without my favorite handknit blanket from my great gramma? Without my furry blue coat? without my stuffed animals i dont even play with anymore, but that are MINE, MY things. it felt destablizing, but change is that way. It was the first time i confronted the fact that I am larger than my glass menagerie.
The second time was the summer I moved to Tanzania and lived in a village of couple hundred people. This, too, flipped my conceptualizations of space and items and property upside down, but differently. For the first time I lived with people who simply had no excess. Most people in the states have tons of stuff that they use, and then tons of stuff that is theirs but may be scattered between houses, apartments, and storage spaces of their own or parents, friends, etc. Not to mention, stashed in all manners of closets, drawers, basements, trunks, etc. More than that, most people I knew had connections to other people, friends and neighbors, who could provide them with the stuff they may need, such as a hammer or an unwanted piece of furniture. This is to say, everyone I met before this time, including myself, had at their disposal a whole artillery of possessions that were in addition to everyday life, just tucked away. In Africa, the house might as well have been made out of glass, because every possession my host family had was right there in plain view. They didnt have this or that out in the garage, or maybe hiding in a closet, or in the car, or in the storage unit, stashed away somewhere where i might not see it. EVERYTHING they had, they used, probably every day. And if you didnt see it around after spending a day or so in the house, it wasnt there. And there was a good chance that if you didnt have it in the house, none of the neighbors would be able to lend it to you, because they didnt have it either. I, too, lived that way for the first time, using only survival and basic work necessities, because I was living out of my backpack. But the novelty/adventurism of backpacking for a week or two camping trip was starkly different than the day in, day out, basics-only lifestyle of Midawe. This, then, was my lesson in Needs
Coming to BA, then, was a move informed by both experiences. Sure, our possessions relate to our sense of self, even if they arent the sole pillar propping up our personhood. Also, there are things totally crucial to survival, and even more, there are things that aren't crucial to staying alive but that really just make it a hell of a lot nicer. I have to admit, in moving here I sold/gave away probably 95% of my stuff, as I had gotten well settled living at the Gypsy Palace, which is as big as it sounds and was chock-full of my 'art materials' plus the spoils of constant LA thrift store shopping. Packing those two suitcases was damn hard. I am a tinge embarrassed to admit it. I study development! I know well the types of deprivation that other people have! Boo hoo to me that I have to get RID of things rather than suffer from want! I knew this while packing, I knew it, but I couldnt help feeling like I was fighting the process because of how sincerely I really loved that crazy chair I found in Santa Barbara, a vanilla-scented old leather jacket I picked up at a garage sale, my electric sander I never had a chance to use. I was confused because before the pains came from feeling like I was being stripped of things I really thought I needed, but this time, I wasn't delusional in thinking that I really really needed the 25 plastic buckets I found on the street. It was just that I had developed such an affection for the stuff, the stuff of my art, inspiration manifest.
But for all the struggle (ha!), I have been absolutely adoring the way my life has changed since shedding all of that. I think sometimes things can be really important investments in our lives, but they also ties us down to places. Leaving the US was a more daunting prospect because of this feeling of leaving things I had invested in, not only money, but time and attention necessary to acquire them. I never would have been able to pare down my things to only those things that are especially special or immediately useful had I not been confined to several cubic feet and a net 100 pound weight limit. But now that Ive narrowed it all down, Ive been really enjoying how accessible everything is, because it isnt distracted from by a ton of other crap. Sometimes I really miss something, but overall, ive got what i need and a good amount of what i want, and I feel balanced and free knowing I can carry pretty much everything I own by myself.
but when i really look at it, its all clothes, books, art supplies, and musical instruments. I think that portends good things for how we have been and are going to be making the most of BA
until next time,
a
settling in and gearing up!
The sun is setting over the craggletoothed skyline of Buenos aires that lazes out across the horizon of my window. Im breathing slowly and enjoying a Monday night. So much has changed in the last few weeks, and Monday nights—I can already a tell—are going to be my little personal havens. Starting with tonight
When Justine and I came here two months ago, we had zero plans—how delicious 0 can be! Never have I had the chance to look off into my future and say: “Hmm, I wonder what that will be.” Standard education is interesting that way. It certainly wasn’t a lack of ambition; if anything, I walked around for the first few sunny sweaty months of the LA summer after graduation feeling like my head could literally explode like a helium balloon that climbed to an altitude just too high from all the careening potentials clanging around inside. Fear of reaching that magical—terrible!—point in the big blue, where the pressure coming from inside is too great, is what sparked my interest in a wayward dive into Argentina: let opportunities come to me for a change, rather than constantly fight to arrange my next steps, my newest scheme. Like Seinfeld: a show about nothing: a plan of no plans. And believe you me, the first ecstatic month of freedom was fresh sparkling lemonade, and it helped me reclaim some kind of calmness about myself and where Im going. Live it up: life is short. Slow it down: life is long.
Upon arrival, Justine shared with me that she wanted to apply to a grad school here in Buenos Aires for a 1 year postgraduate specialization program. In what? How much does it cost? I was intrigued. After studying so furiously at UCLA, I wanted this time in Buenos Aires to be a period where I could explore other things besides public health, especially art, which I had started producing with an odd fevor during my last few years of college. Ive never formally studied art before really, a basic class in early high school pretty much sums up my academic training. But theres nothing that I love quite like I love exploring new, weird materials. I honestly feel like you can make art out of anything, any old thing. And its so positive to divert trash into beauty, and its impossible to do something wrong if its never been done before. For instance, one piece I made involved melting crayons…the result was beautiful, but its hard to put into word how much fun it is to melt 200 crayons into pixilated oblivion with a butane powered blowtorch. Certainly no rules involved, no 'best practices' to mind, no standard to measure. Its all for kicks, but the joy gets carried over into the product.
So I decided to apply for the program at the Instituto Universitario Nacional de Bellas Artes (which I later learned is a top art school in Latin America). Justine and I pitched ourselves as a creative collaboration and proposed making multi-story mural stereographs that would promote social change messages for our final culminating project. They loved it and accepted us both! The crazy souls. I totally understand Justine- cmon, studied art at Stanford, pretty much all around brilliant artist with tons of cred to back it up. But me? I just pick trash off the street and make art out of it in my spare time, and sometimes I cut hair. Me? Art school? Bring it on. So tomorrow we are officially enrolling for IUNA’s specialization in ‘Methods and Technologies for Image Production’—a bit of theory, a bit of history, and a lot of experimentation and practice. I want to use art to change the world, especially how people relate to their health. I think it can be done
Feeling pretty great about it.
Over the weeks, Ive gotten my bearings in our neighborhood, Belgrano. One of the reasons this city is so damn charming and easy to live in is that everything is still pretty much broken up into small, independent businesses rather than huge multiblockmegaplexsupercenters. So its easy to breeze around the barrio and know the guy (Andres, in our case) who sells you your peaches…. Due to the notorious argentine friendliness and openness, getting to know shop owners, meeting lots of lively neightborhood characters (and their kids, and their dogs), and wandering the streets eye-groping buttery flaky pastries and beautiful soft flowy dresses in storefronts has been absolutely divine and surprisingly easy. A couple of weeks ago I stumbled upon what looked like an awesome hair salon, and I had recently dedicated myself to the idea of working as a hairdresser here in BA (as opposed to trying to teach English or hold out for a dream development job), so I kept dropping by until the owner, Pablo, was convinced that he should hire me on as an assistant. Gainful employment? Huzzah! After getting to know the space a little better, Ive realized that my boss is a pretty fancypants hairdresser and working as his assistant is cosmetology bootcamp. I relearned how to wash hair. I relearned how to clip hair into sections (wow). I am really really relearning the whole coloring process, as well as how to do perfect blowdrys and eventually chemical straightening. Im really excited and trying to be humble. After working at independent-style salons for 5 years, its definitely taking concentration to tell myself to shut up and listen. Most of my training beyond beauty school was a learn-as-you-go kind of situation; if I wanted to learn a new technique, I practiced on walk-ins until I got it down—not necessarily the most effective or efficient way, but what I could come up with to get the job done. So its nice being given some structure and picking apart the skills I didn’t hone so much so that I can get better. By now, I got haircuts down pat, but the rest is makin me realize this aint the babershop by the beach anymore :D. The boss and other assistant don’t speak a word of English so Castellano-practice is abundant, and I love the vibe of the shop.
So im gearing up to be really busy here come april! With the new full time job and grad school starting (and this whole big city to explorrrrre!) im looking at another hectic and colorful journey—have to admit, its nice to have a sense of purpose and direction, and I couldn’t be more grateful for what Buenos Aires is doing for me right now. Its like I showed up and the city went: here Allie, have everything you need. All I can do is laugh and embrace this madness, sing songs and make MORE ART
Justine and I found a lovely new apartment thats bigger, quirkier, in a cooler part of town, and cheaper (what else could ya want?) so that’s getting thrown into the mix at the end of april. So far, our life has been punctuated by visits from ana, the Australians…… Julie fair and ewalk and travis barnes and company made a smashing appearance during Carnaval with one particularly memorable night at the 20-piece drumming event Bomba del Tiempo…….daniel kantor and adam are in town at the moment, and ben stevens and kate Campbell are scheduled to be around in a week or town, so there has scarcely been a dull moment. Our beautiful friend belu, a ravishing argentine fashions student, has been a major staple around our lives lately, and we stay busy catching art parties and going to shows. I met two adorable Columbians, Paulo and Cesar, who live nearby and they’ve become insta-brothers, cooking asados on Sundays and getting lost in taxis. I could babble about great argentines+other latinos all day, so suffice it to say that its hard to be lonely in BA. Doesn’t make being away from the US easy persay, there is definitely a dull longing for beautiful golden California, beaches and buildings and rolling cow pastures and spiky treed forests and lakes, so many lakes…..not to mention all my favorite people spread across the geographies. But its nice to ride the change in all its awkward capitulations.
More updates as things develop—do drop a line and let a sista know how you’re doing!
Amor amor amor
a
Marzo
March 18, 2011. The city is noisy, and the busbrake screeches make me cover my ears as I walk down the sidewalk. But it's chill because I'm walking with the Strumdog and lovely Miss Allie. And we're buying sweets and juicy empanadas, or I'm headed out to dance tango or see an art show. Buenos Aires is an exciting place to be with 24-hour action. A lot of things got turned on their head for me when I got here—it's been a hot sticky summer instead of winter, i moved 5 hours ahead in this timezone, but basically I just kept my normal sleeping schedule and everything got pushed back a few hours in my life--dinner at 9, 10, or 11pm (midnight's not uncommon either really), go out to a venue around 2 or 3am, get back home between 6 and 7am... I've seen some beautiful mornings in the city that have never been accessible to me before... the trick wasn't to get up earlier, it was to stay up later!
As fun as Buenos Aires is, at the end of February I felt a wind in my door and an itch in my bones and with an invitation to head north for Fito's comic conference (another world entirely, you should have seen the costume contest)(great band too)... anyway I headed north with my tent and trusty sleeping bag [I've had this sucker for 12 years!] on a 25 hour busride.
I met wonderful people, starting with some teens dancing murga (example: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TS7UPQIc6Ok) in San Salvador de Jujuy. They taught me some moves and I'm thinking about joining a group here in Bs. As. On the busride from San Salvador to Purmamarca, my first camping destination, I met some really sweet (and gorgeous) girls also from the Buenos Aires province who live outside the city (the city itself is referred to as Capital Federal). We have a matching sense of adventure and a lot of fun together, so we traveled together through 3 towns: Purmamarca, Tilcara, and Humahuaca while they were going crazy for Carnaval. In Tilcara we joined forces with a group of guys and 1 gal and formed a nomadic tribe of 10. We found great camping sites and suffered horrendously at the great fun of the streets swarming with mischievious foam-sprayers and chalk-throwers. We were strong and danced day and night, but we were no match for the carnaval spirit of the north and we were out-partied by 40-year-old dignified ladies who tradition obliges to get shit-faced while brining out the devil to play for the week of carnaval. The girls eventually continued heading north without me and I stayed with the boys who had invited me to their small hometown in the province of Cordoba, to the west of Buenos Aires. Before leaving the north, we found ourselves in a really beautiful scene atop the highest hill in Humahuaca, with a view of all the red and purple mountains surrounding the town. A group of people were playing folkloric music--guitars, charango, bomba (drum), and flutes. They danced around and added to the offering in the middle dedicated to the PachaMama. The offering mostly consisted of rocks, bottles, styrofoam cups, and sips of beer, which I'm not sure the EarthMother really appreciates [maybe the rocks and beer] but the sentiment is really beautiful, t come together in such a beautiful place and give thanks to the world that's so big under our feet and over our heads.j
The boys Israel, David (brothers), and Cheche and I took turns beating each other up, helped keep our tents waterproof in the heavy rain that storms in the north, and had a grand ole time juggling, making music, and cooking delicious meat. It's a big change from my mostly vegetarian lifestyle in California, but it feels so much more natural here, and actually the transition from cattle-raising to soy production in recent years in Argentina has been incredibly detrimental to the land, replacing forest land, releasing toxins, and sterilizing the earth. Amazing how sustainability can look so different from different points fo view. One of the consequences of the soy influx in the area of Cordoba outside of the city of San Francisco (we laughed about how I cam so far across the world to end up back in my home town) is that the bugs have left the chemical-ridden countryside and have invaded the small towns amidst the fields. Giant beetles which are mostly innocuous except the stinkbugs constantly buzz around and land everywhere. Spindly sticking legs skrittle on shoulders and grab onto tablecloths; my 9-year-old opponent Carlito and I had to swipe quite a few off of the pooltable in our game. He ended up beating me, but it was down to the 8 ball.
Even with the bugs, Colonia Prosperidad, 1/2 hour drive from San Francisco, is a dusty gem of a 300-person town and it was incredible to have Israel and David introduce me to their friends and family members. It's an extensive list, from the tiny nephews Renzo and Valentino to the Emperador, as they call their jovial father. We fished for eels, skinned them, fried em and ate em (delicious) and drank an impressive amount of mate, watched wham-bam sunsets in the uninterrupted sky of the plains, rocked out at a Caraduras concert (the bros' rock band: Isra's the drummer, David plays the electric guitar, and a friend plays the bass [[sidsidenote: the bassist's 3-year-old son went completely nutzo at the concert, I've never seen someone rock out so hard :) ]]) I bought a guitar! finally! I took some pictures and even developed some in CheChe's home darkroom, and I breathed some damn fresh air.
So now I'm back and feeling charged about my life here and the great relationships I'm building.
Meeting so many people on my trip, and especially in the small towns, everybody wants to know what I'm doing here and what inspired me to come to Argentina. I tell them about art school and loving Spanish, but mostly I just say "I don't know how I knew, but I was right. Argentina is incredible and exactly where I need to be right now."
buenos aires, first impressions
i woke up this morning to the sounds of some half awake, cheery and raucous australians muttering downstairs. Justine rolled over and said, "Oh nooo" because she needed a few more minutes of shut eye than their lilting conversation would allow. Tiptoeing down the creaky stairs that connect our upstairs bedroom with the downstairs living room where the 3 boys had been splayed out minutes before, Justine suggested that they go buy some fruit, empanadas, and pastries for breakfast: double whammy food delivery+peace restoration. I met Marty, a tall, broad-smiling lad of 20 while traveling in Peru last summer, and he, his cousin Ben and good friend Pat were midway through their 'gap year' extravaganza, which is a tradition in some parts of the world where students take a year off between high school and university to travel. by the time we moved to BA, the Australians' journey was coming to an end and we invited them to crash with us before their flight back home on Wednesday, which has evolved into much merrymaking, city-exploring, guitar playing and super-tasty meal cooking. Although our apartment felt really small at first, its been packed with people for the last week, both with our gang of travellers and a bunch of new argentine friends, and its been just right
justine and i have both been meditating a lot on the difference between traveling and moving. Every other time I've spent a lot of time somewhere, even if i tried to embrace it as a move, has felt like a trip. there is something strange about knowing somewhere in the back of your mind that you are coming back. for sure. and you have some notion of when, and what your like will be like when you return. DC, Tanzania, Bolivia.....always a bit of travelling. But its been weird trying to get used to the idea that I LIVE HERE, and that every day doesnt have to be chock full of every sight i can go see, every tourist attraction i can possibly soak up, because heck, I live here. Hanging out with the Australians has especially sharpened my sense of the distinction between these two modes of operation, Moving vs. Traveling, as they are so far to the traveler end, it makes me aware of how far we’ve come on the front of getting settled. This is all compounded by another thing I'm getting used to, and thats NOT BEING IN A RUSH. Being a bit type A, i tend to get stressed if there’s nothing to stress about, so Ive been trying to just sit back and enjoy a bit of time free from time crunches and pressing to-do’s. So ive been tango dancing, drinking mate, taking my dog for long walks through the narrow treelined streets, starting shooting a photography book on street art in BA, sleeping in late, fire dancing, reading good books, making connections with interesting artists, going on picnics, going to art shows and bars, and planning and plotting things into the future. Its good that the aches for home are nicely countered by the joys of setting down some new roots and starting in a place free from expectation and precedent.
Our apartment is in Belgrano, which is a lovely neighborhood, if not a bit on the expensive side (which also makes the demographic that of those with money, ie not young people) but we’ve signed a 3 month lease so it is smashing for now. The place came fully furnished and is laid out really interestingly; theres an upstairs bedroom with a narrow wooden slat staircase that spills out of the floor, leading to the downstairs living/dining/kitchen space. Strummer is terrified of the stairs and can only go up, doing back down is too much for him at the moment. He’s an eccentric little beastie, that one. We have two balconies that give us an interesting glimpse at the city around us, and the pool and roof are both proving to be places with muy buena onda (nice vibes). It was a little weird moving in to this very efficient and compact space after living in the sprawling gypsy palace for so long, but its not entirely a bad change. Overall, buenos aires is a gorgeous and very modern city; the humidity is present but not oppressive, the vibe is fun, its really clean, there's a TON of beautiful street art everywhere, and the architecture is a great mixture of old and new, tacky and tasteful, over the top and just right. There are plazas and parks eeeeverywhere and they are always filled with people just moseying, chatting, or enjoying the sunshine. You can walk everywhere, and getting to another barrio is just pennies on the amazingly designed subway + bus mass transit system. Its very international and vibrant, never a shortage of things to do and explore
Justine and I are both busy applying to an art school here in BA called IUNA because they have a cool (and surprisingly cheap) one year postgraduate program for a specialization in techniques and methods of image production, which we both think sounds like the cats pajamas. I have a strong interest in the intersection of art, education, and social change, and I like the idea of giving myself time and space to cultivate my art skillz a bit. Also, a good friend of our’s put us in touch with a school in Mendoza thats looking for art and English teachers, so there is a possibility that we’ll head to wine country when their school year starts to spend some time at the foot of the andes and teach some ninos how to draw and say hello. I still have a hankering to head to Barriloche, their snowsport region, for the winter to be a liftie and go riding for a season. We shall see we shall see.
More to come (there always is!!!!)
Muchos besitos!
allie
Thoughts on the past 2 weeks
coolgraffititraintracks empanadas milongas skyscrapers pidgeon-snatching-little-girls, 3/4 moon upside-down Orion and the Southern Cross, La Virgen María and the metro (subte). Beers and friends visiting, breezes and air conditioning, establishing and free-wheeling, searching for change for the bus, walking the Strum dog, bailando con ferocidad (dancing furiously) translating constantly, forgetting which language, drawing, guitarring, hunting for a typewriter, dreaming big and long, awakening for pears peaches french toast and omelet. loving it. missing home, missing you, smiling imagining us all doing our thang.
job? art school? all to come, taking it as it comes, open hands to accept and give the gifts coming my way. a man today in the subway "Here comes the sun...." a lot of brightness these days, i hope your corner of the world as well.
Love,
Justine
Attachments:
La Primera Semana (Week 1)
So we've made it to Buenos Aires. We said goodbye to all those folks we couldn't help ourselves from loving, tied up the loose ends of our Californian lives, got the Strumdog tucked in his kennel with all the appropriate forms (Thank you Brent and Chris!!!) and chugged along a few (9,818) kilometers (6101 miles) to get to our new home. Woo! We were met by my previous landlords' friend and business partner Rodolfo and he graciously transported our luggage, dog, and stinky selves to our new apartment in the neighborhood Belgrano.
Now that we've arrived, Allie and I have noticed a definite shift in our conceptions of self--mainly, that we're no longer leaving. We've been leaving for a very long time, and especially towards the end of our time in California it felt as though every conversation, idea, dream, and relationship, was defined by our impending departure. And then we left and somehow found ourselves in a cute little neighborhood with big trees and a constant flow of dogs and their loyal owners. It's slowly dawning on us that we're here, and that we're here to stay for a while. We keep telling people the plan is 1-2 years, but the point is we don't have return tickets and therefore no deadline. I have to say, it's a relief to not have a cut-off date for my stay somewhere. I have been living within strictly defined windows of time since... perhaps since I began kindergarten, but I've been really conscious of it since I began traveling on my own at the end of high school. There is a very specific quality to the time spent between arrival and departure dates: a consciousness of the limited opportunity, a determination to make the most of it, a sense of borrowing the life you find there, a gratefulness and a sadness all at once in finding friends, family, love, and then letting them go. I still remember some of my deadlines: Sept 19 begin at Stanford, March 18th return from Madrid, May 1st embarkation on the Holistic Biology voyage in Baja México and June 1st return, June 10th graduation of many good friends, June 27th depart to Perú and Sept 16th return, Jan 28th goodbye to California and now... open. Like a prairie. Except with a lot of city buildings all over it. And an intriguing accent winding around coffees and pizzas and cigarettes and kisses on the cheek. What a luxury to be at a beginning with no fixed end in sight! And oh my, how uncertain.
As Allie and I have said all along the way, we don't know what Argentina has to offer us. But we have followed an irresistible pull in an effort to scratch our itchy bones—knowing that the itch might very well be insatiable—and we are here to see what kind of life we can build with the wind in our hair, art supplies in our hands, arms open, mouths full of twisting conjugations, and dancing feet. We've got a lot of things we want to do, a lot of time in which to do them, and a new country in which to test our wingspans. We've also got a lot of love for the people (you) you made us who we are today, and we'd like to keep sharing with you. So please stay tuned for artwork and news and send us news of your own adventures (no foreign lands required).
Un beso,
Justine
Graduation Announcement Letter---
Friends, Family, One and All!
I’ll cut to the chase—
1.) I graduated!
2.) I’m excited!
3.) I couldn’t have done it without you!
So to thank you all for your support, friendship, and love –which was so crucial to me being able to navigate college without racking up a lot of insanity— I thought I’d give you all a recap of exactly what it is that you’ve been helping me do!
We rewind four years---
As many of you know, I went to cosmetology school during my senior year of high school. I graduated at the end of September 2006 and started school at UCLA three days later (nice relaxing summer break, eh?). The transition from bleaching, plucking, filing, and chatting to studying, notetaking, partying, and chatting wasn’t a terrible one, albeit a bit strange. Coming in to UCLA, I decided to be pre-med and eventually pick a major that would take me in that direction. But college is a diverse place and I found myself involved in a million different organizations, one of which was Support for International Change, a nonprofit dedicated to promoting HIV/AIDS awareness in rural Tanzania (an extremely poor country in sub-Saharan eastern Africa, on the coast). I jumped on the chance to become a part of their international team of volunteers, and to my delight, I received an outpouring of support from friends and family that made the trip possible. I found myself on an airplane to Kilimanjaro that summer to live and work in a village for 3 months, teaching an HIV/AIDS curriculum at several different schools and working to promote testing and community support. The community where I lived, Midawe, was in the jungly foothills of Mt. Meru; although devastatingly beautiful and lush, the village was grappling with an HIV infection rate of 1 in 7 and no running water, electricity, or other basic services to speak of. During our time living with a family and working with the community, I realized that the epidemic of HIV in Africa is a problem with roots much deeper than individual –level education, that much of the solution would lie in changes to shortcomings of larger political and infrastructural systems. It wasn’t that the Tanzanians didn’t want to keep themselves safe, it was that they live in a society that did not, or could not, inform them how to do it. I had some serious thinking to do.
At the time, my declared major was Chemistry (dirty secret: I loved it), and I knew my passion and interests lie in promoting wellness. But what did wellness really mean? I had started to hear buzzwords like ‘development,’ ‘systems of oppression,’ ‘unbalanced trade relations,’ ‘modern imperialism,’ ‘access disparity’ and others, and so I switched gears to begin studying the larger picture of the lives that people live across the world and how our relationships shape our realities, resources, and access to opportunity. It dawned on me that there was more to wellness than the constituent elements that interact to create disease; a multitude of factors determined how a disease could affect a person’s life, happiness, and potential. During this time, I worked as a part of UCLA’s student run Mobile Clinic, which provides free outpatient medical services to homeless people in Los Angeles. Learning about the very real widespread poverty in our own country (the most developed in the world!) lead me to pursue participation in the UCLA CAPPP Quarter in Washington program the next year, wherein I interned with a community development financial org to write a research thesis on the potential applications of microlending in the US for poverty alleviation. By the end of my sophomore year, I had declared a degree in International Development studies with regional focuses in Sub Saharan Africa and Latin America, and decided to pair it with a minor in Public Health, bridging my interests in domestic and foreign development. All the while, I had a ton of adventures with new friends, exploring LA, going to concerts and art shows, and generally having a grand ol’ time. Nine friends and I moved into an amazing apartment community called the Treehouse, where we made art and music in an old John Lautner spaceship building and eventually adopted a pound pup named Strummer (after Joe :D). The space was a powerhouse for events in Westwood, and together we held fundraisers, rallies, and parties for everyone who asked. It was exciting to see so many creative people working together—artists, musicians, dancers, techy people, organizers, all with a helping of raucousness and a serving of budding expertise.
For the next two years, I carried on a fascination with different approaches, arguments, and measures of poverty and became reinvigorated academically. The summer before my junior year I scored a position as a barber at Rudy’s Barbershop, a cool spot to get a haircut in Santa Monica (3 blocks from the beach! Oh happy day!). There I found a spunky diverse bunch of stylists to call a second family and would work there for the rest of my time in LA. I fell in love with a handsome chap named Brent, who proved to be my best friend, adventure buddy, and best artistic collaborator and critic. Throughout my junior year, his passion for art and literature reawakened my own creative pursuits, and I began to make bright colorful works out of reappropriated materials that would eventually be shown at events all over town.
Senior year brought a number of cool changes. I began working on my senior research thesis, as I was charged with designing the community education efforts for a pilot emergency medical system project in Kenya. Nourish International, a student led anti-poverty movement, took me on as the Venture Director for the UCLA chapter so I began planning all of our group’s money-generating activities. Chapters launch small business ventures throughout the year in order to make money that we then reinvest in the developing world the form of sustainable community based summer projects. And as a special plus, Brent, four other friends, and I had moved into a lovely 75 year old house in Miracle Mile—which we dubbed the Gypsy Palace— where we were having way too much fun producing each other’s movies, mixing music, cooking tasty food and reading good books.
So the months sped by, and my thesis got written, and the money got generated, the house became our home, and before I knew it every last thing got wrapped up and I graduated. Over the course of the year, Nourish decided for their summer project to build an animal farm project for a community in the highlands of Bolivia called Santiago; the farm would provide year round food to supplement the diets of the malnourished children living at the school. For the month of August we went to work with the director of the organization that runs the school and got the project off the ground. Since Peru was right next door, I managed to finagle my way over there and took in Macchu Piccu (which was absolutely beyond words)
Since coming home, I’ve been busy with an internship for a UN initiative, my job at Rudy’s, and making art. Moreover, I’ve been planning what is perhaps my most ambitious adventure yet: moving to Buenos Aires, Argentina! I suppose I use the term ‘planning’ loosely, because at the end of the day, I got through college with zero regrets and all I want is to embark into the future without a hardfast plan at all, at least for a little while. My friend Justine and my loyal dog Strum are my coconspirators in this endeavor and we have a place awaiting us in BA, but neither of us has any idea what we’ll do there, how we’ll pay the rent, or what else we can hope to find. I guess after this 17-year school marathon where my path was so established, its nice to just dive into the wild blue yonder. I feel like I’m always about to explode, and so much of that feeling is just gratitude—for you and the other amazing people around me and for sheer dumb luck, without which I would have crashed and burned a long, long time ago.
So in short, thanks for helping to get me thus far, and check out alliegates.com or itchybones.shutterfly.com if you ever get curious about what I’m up to!
Hope the new year is full of happy days and happier nights!
Cheers!
Allie Gates
(P.S. Don’t be a stranger :D)
Flyin Dogs from America to Argentina-- A Checklist + Contacts
Here is a nice checklist and some contacts if you are trying to take a dog from the USA to Argentina
Checklist--
-Up to date record of rabies + other standard vaccinations
-dog license (from your city in the US)
-Certificate of Health from vet with DFA endorsement
-properly labeled crate w/ some water, big enough for the animal to lie down and turn around
-possibly*** sedation medication, depending on your airline
-verification from your airline(s) that the dog is coming on your flight as either a carry-on or checked baggage (they will make a note on your file)
Argentine Consulate: (212) 603-0400
they will tell you that you need a rabies vaccination certificate, a health certificate, and an endorsement from the Department of Food and Agriculture
US Dept of Food and Agriculture: (916) 854-3900
they need to endorse your health certificate
Los Angeles Dept of Animal Services: (888) 452-7381
its always important to have your dog's license in good standing
American Airlines: (800) 535-5225
LAN: (866) I-FLY-LAN
You need to tell your airline (specifically, the baggage department) that you are bringing a dog and ask their requirements re: crate size and labeling, sedation, fees (between $150-$200), and weight restrictions.
Shelter Veterinary in Los Angeles: (310) 473-4295
You need to get an appt with your vet to get a health certificate (approx $75 for the appointment and the certificate) and get your dog up to date on any vaccines, esp rabies. You can get low cost (<$10) vaccines at one of the city's weekly low cost vaccination clinics at various shelters. You need to get the health certificate 0-7 days before you leave. You have to have this certificate endorsed by the DFA also, so make sure you dont wait til the last minute
Preparing: Taking a Dog
Overall, I'm feelin ready. Bags packed. Stuff sorted. Clothes given away. Furniture sold. But bringing my little beastie friend strummer with me is proving to be a huge pain. The problem is that there's no overall guide to bringing a pet to a foreign country, and you have to call a bunch of different agencies to solicit info about their respective policies. So the important institutions to keep in mind if you are trying to take a dog to argentina are, apparently, the vet, the argentine consulate, the baggage department of any airlines you may be checking the pet through, the department of food and agriculture in the us, and the city animal services department.
From the vet, you'll need a number of things. First, to take a dog to Argentina you must provide a health certificate issued 0-6 days before travel, up to date vaccinations and documentation (esp for rabies. be careful here, these need a while to kick in so dont wait until the last minute. I think you need it administered at least 30 days prior, but double check w your vet), and possibly sedation medication depending on your airline's policy for transporting animals. Schedule an appointment early, as getting the health examination is sometimes considered a special 'travel exam' which are only administered on certain days at some vets.
Call all airlines you will be flying as a part of your itinerary and ask their policy for transport of dogs. American and LAN had their policy partially explained online, but you need to call and let them know you will be bringing a dog. My flight had two legs by two different airlines, and they charge $150 and $190 as a baggage fee.They also have their own requirements about labeling the crate, maximum weight of dog+crate (i think 45 kg is the max), food+water, and sedation. One of my carriers forbids the sedation of dogs for the flight, but the next carrier requires dogs to be sedated. For my case, the airlines said that my dog will be checked through the first, then returned to me, and then I'll have to recheck him through the second carrier. And in the interim, sedate him. Wow. Could they make that more complicated? Anyway, its crucial to just call the airlines directly to have them make a note on your itinerary that a dog will be flying as checked baggage and they will tell you the rest of their requirements.
As for the Animal Services department, its good to have your dog's license in good standing. They can refer you to a vet that administers travel exams.
From the Argentine consulate, you have to call and ask if they have any special requirementson their end for the entrance of a pet to Argentina. I called the department of food and agriculture, and apparently its possible that the Argentina Consulate may want an endorsement from the FDA as to the health of the pet or something, but the Argentina Consulate hasnt called me back yet. More on that tocome!
As for actually transporting Strum, I got a nice sturdy crate that is big enough for him to stand and turn around. If your dog isnt used to being in a crate, Ive heard its good to try and acclamate them to the crate a bit before the trip. Otherwise sometimes dogs like try to dig their way out of their crate and hurt themselves. I have weakly attempted to get strummer to spend time in his crate but he wants no part in it whatsoever. I will keep trying
Other than the regular dog stuff of food, toys, leashes, and the like, these documents and communications and appointments are pretty much all you need to take a pooch to Argentina- as far as I can tell so far anyway. I knew that it would be a hassle to bring the little dude, but this is a bit more than i bargained for, ha!
Now for the hard part: teach strummer spanish
