After more than three months of living in a city of 3 to 12 million (depending on who you ask), I've realized that I've more or less kept my sanity intact due to some key reasons. When I've holed myself up with my laptop to work on final papers, I will fondly think of these places and people. So the top five reasons that I've remained sane (more or less) here in la Ciudad Autonoma de Buenos Aires begin with: Thelonious Club.

I don't think that I'll go to hell, but if I do, I'm fairly certain that it would be eerily similar to the Tres Cruces bus station in Montevideo, Uruguay. The trips to and from Uruguay during Semana Santa were truly conscious nightmares, book-ending an otherwise wonderful visit to the Uruguayan pampas. Spending 22 hours in transit on a micro, or omni, or whatever else people call the long-distance buses, trying to arrive at Paysandú and then spending the night at the bus terminal because I had missed my bus back Buenos Aires were not, however, the high points of my time with my Mennonite relatives. Perhaps it was waffles and mate in the afternoon.

I do not think that I will go to hell after I die, but if I did I am sure that it would look eerily similar to the Tres Cruces omnibus terminal in Montevideo. Yes, I spent a night in bus terminal after Easter because my bus to back to Buenos Aires, and the next quickest trip back that did not cost $400 (U.S.) left at 10 a.m. the next day. This was after I spent 22 hours in transit attempting to visit my relatives close to Paysandu, Uruguay. Luckily, the time spent with my family was very pleasant and was totally dampened by my discovery that I had lost my camera somewhere in that unfortunate transit back to Buenos Aires. That last bit is my excuse for the long delay between posts (and the lack of pictures). However, my Mennonite relatives are just so wonderful that I will not be found depressed!

"¡Que nunca olviden este día el 24 de marzo!" The amplified voice boomed across the open space packed with young porteños (and at least one young American). That we could be in the area at all would have been totally outrageous 30 years ago. We wouldn't have wanted to even imagine who was doing what to whom in the sprawling military complex next door. But that was a generation ago. Now only five blocks away Radiohead was playing live for thousands of youths with lip rings, tattoos and civil liberties that most Western people take for granted.

Jazz clubs, salsa clubs. Class in dilapidated office building, class in a spotless, ivory tower complex. Running past railroad tracks barricaded by barbed wire, walking through a massive ecological reserve. There are a lot of contradictions and fine examples of juxtaposition in Buenos Aires, just as there are in any major world city. Much of the time I just feel like sitting back and contemplating all of it. And then I realize that I have to be 20 blocks away in half an hour. It's a good thing this city runs on "Argentine time" and not the maniacal pace of much of the U.S.

Hey friends! ? Candan? Yes, I'm picking up bits of porte lang. I suppose that is what should happen as I spend more and time getting to know a city like Buenos Aires.

Unlike the last two posts, I really see no way to create a unifying theme for all that has happened over the past week and a half. Classes have begun, though there is still no real sense of normality or true routine. I've had some very enjoyable nights out in the city and some less pleasant nights out. I've hung out in the middle one of the most upscale shopping centers in the city, Patio Bullrich, and have seen a whole family spend a night hidden among cardboard boxes. I've seen professors that double as priests in UCA and Marxist murals that cover the stairwells of UBA de Ciencias Sociales (the public university's college of social sciences). I've visited both a Methodist church and a Buddhist cultural center. And most importantly, I bought a mate with a bombilla.

My host parents warned me that nobody can really have a satisfactory visit to Bariloche, a resort town in the western part of Argentina, in only three days. Yeah, they were right. Bordering Nahuel Huapi National Park, the third oldest national park in the world after Yellowstone and Banff, the area must be one of the most beautiful in the world. The kids from the West Coast could hardly believe how much it resembled Lake Tahoe and other parts of northern California. Though the public transportation system of Bariloche was a considerable downgrade from the colectivos of Buenos Aires, I think that I will remember the weekend for much nicer reasons.

Hello friends! I´ve been in Buenos Aires for a week now, and now I have to sift through all the stories. (Deep breath). I arrived at my host family´s apartment early in the afternoon on Sunday, and rather quickly discovered that I am living with some pretty cool cats. Laura and Eduardo are in their early 50s, but tend to act like the bougeois hippies they are. Most nights over dinner we talk some form of politics and that´s when their castellano becomes too fast for me to understand. Eduardo writes and paints and Laura is a clothing designer. They have two sons that are in their late 20s now, and both are involved in the arts, one as a photographer and the other as a musician.