Movie Star!...for a day.

So three weeks ago, Brian told me about an audition he read about on craigslist that was calling for native English speaking females for a real-estate commercial that would be shown on the internet and American television. Clearly I went to the audition (even though Brian said he was charging a finders' fee of 15% if I got the part) and did a pretty good job. I got a call a week later from the casting director saying "it's now down to six girls, and your one of them." CRAZY! Then the next week, "down to three," and this last week, "it's between you and another girl." While still going to my english lessons (and hoping daily for some temporary fame) I got a different call from a big Argentine company who had randomly seen my audition tape, and wanted me to audition for their DVD series that teaches English to foreigners. "Umm.... Yes, I would love to come to your audition!" This company is huge in Argentina, so the pay would be incredible--I would make more in one day of filming than I could in a whole week teaching! So once again, I showed off my rusty/non-existent acting skills, but this time against more than 70 people, instead of just 10. eeeeek! Unbelievably, a representative of the agency called me two days later and told me the producer wanted to meet me in person! Was this a joke? I barely made the role of chorus girl in Guys and Dolls in high-school!  I went in the next day, shaking like a schoolboy, and met with the producer. 

Big, fancy producer: "Well, the reason I called you in today was just to meet you, and see what you are you like in person"

Me: "Yeah? Great. I..."

Big, fancy producer: .."because i'm offering you the part... And we are shooting the pilot in two days". 

After I changed into a clean pair of jeans, and wiped the drool off of my face, I processed what I had just heard. Ahhhhhh, I was going to be a movie-star!!

THE PILOT

So I showed up at this big fancy studio in the city, hair undone, no make-up, wearing a white tee-shirt and jeans and stepped into what could easily be mistaken for fashion-week, Buenos Aires. As I walked into a gigantic room filled with 20 super trendy, dark haired, Argentine beauties I immediately felt like my getting the part was a mistake. Were these my fellow actors? Why did they all look so professional? Just as I was about pretend to be a janitor, lost on my way to clean up a spill in the staff room, someone spotted me, and let everyone there know that I had arrived. Unbeknownst to me, all of these people were there for me! A woman for my make-up, one for my hair, two for my wardrobe, two men to bring me food, sound people, light people, a woman to discuss my ideas on the script! WHAT?! Was this a joke?

While changing in front of semi-circle of women who all stared at me, heads cocked, deciding if my waist looked good in this, my arms looked okay in that, I felt a sudden air of confusion as I changed into a different shirt. "Where is your other bra?" they said, concerned. "Oh.." I said, "was i supposed to bring one? I.."  "Where is your push-up bra? Why aren't you wearing a push-up bra?"  I didn't know how to communicate that padded bras weren't really being sold in bulk in Canton, New York, so i just kind of laughed and looked around at the 4 perky pairs that were staring back at me. Finally, the Argentine boob secret revealed!! 

After 12 wardrobe changes, and about an hour of hair work, ("no this curl has to be closer to her head," "no, this part of her bangs is slightly asymmetrical") we started to actually shoot the pilot, and it was incredible. I entered a room about 100 by 100 that was bright white, with all the corners rounded off to diminish any perception of depth. I delivered my lines for close to 3 hours to about 15 people who taped, held lights, monitored sound, reapplied my makeup, cut my hair, brought me food, changed props, etc., It was unbelievable. The pilot is being marketed to an big South American company that is looking for an English Language learning aid, that would make learning fun, and put a fresher look on outdated videos that are almost comical to watch. I'm not sure if my performance was any more realistic than the one's I watched in high-school, but it was so much fun to do, and getting paid in cash, 6 minutes after the final take was awesome. 

 

Work and Play.

I've finally gotten into the swing of things at work, and my classes seem much shorter than they used to. I asked for a raise last week, and got it, along with some positive reviews from my students, which is fantastic. All but two of my students are incredibly easy to work with, but the two that aren't drive me nuts. I think about pulling some of my Mortal Kombat moves (most notably the scissor grab, and shadow kick) on their faces at least four times a lesson. Most of my students really just want to sound more like Americans, so we work a lot on pronunciation, idioms, general expressions, and intonation. Others, however, want to work on somewhat drier material, like verb tenses, conjugation, and grammar, which makes me consider suicide for the last half of the lesson. Needless to say, I like my conversation classes MUCH more. 

I partied with a new group of Argentines this weekend, and had terrific time. Great drinks, English speaking Argentines, and chocolate cake = loads of fun. After we drank, danced, and ate at a beautiful apartment belonging to the Mayor of BA's nephew, we headed out to a rooftop party with a live band that played until the early morning. The only bad part of the night was the disturbing number of braided rattails I counted at both parties. I think men should be mandated to put little bells on the end of them so we girls know what we're getting into before starting in on a conversation. 

Sunday, Brian and I went to Puerto Madero to hike around the ecological reserve, but it was closed due to rain. I guess they didn't want the grass to get wet. Instead we enjoyed a festival that celebrated the first day of spring (yay!)  which was so much fun! We watched some traditional dancing and drumming, and consumed some of the best fresh-squeezed orange juice I have ever had. There were about 10 different kinds of bands (Peruvian, rock, Argentinean, etc.,) that lined the mile and a half strip of land, and people were having a great time break-dancing, eating meat by the slab, and drinking beer out of well-disguised Sprite bottles. After getting into the swing of things with work, Brian and I (and our American friends) are getting out more, and seeing more of the Argentine

 culture. It seems like every weekend there is something to celebrate here, which I think is a pretty great way to look at life.

Drunken Disc.

This weekend was a blast. (A blast? Yes, I'm ninety).  Because the majority of the people I work with are Americans in their early twenties, I received an instant group of friends as soon as I got here, and they all pretty much love to travel, like to teach, and love to have to have fun. We had a big get together on Friday night (the first hour of which my gaze did not stray from the bowl of home-made peanut butter balls on a table in the center of the room), which was filled with late night dancing and delicious beer (the night.. not the peanut butter balls). One of my students at FOX invited me to a bar called "Liquid," so we brought the party there, and in my broken spanish I explained that we were on Birthday Guest List. Note: broken spanish = huge smile repeating the phrase "feliz brithday," and pointing at my friends. After we got in (which I must say was solely due to my ability command a security guard's attention like no other),  we listened to some modern Salsa music and danced the night away. So much fun. Saturday morning, Brian and I, and our friend Kyla, took a 35-minute bus trip to a University on the outskirts of BA, for a full day of ultimate frisbee. I can't believe how many people play here! Although it took me about an hour to get the hang of it, the 4 hour-disc session was really fun. We ran drills for about an hour, and the men there were pretty serious about it. I particpated in the first ever all-female disc game in Argentina, and by the end of the day pretty much knew all the rules (minus the one about disc not really being a contact sport...whoops). All in all, it was a fantastic weekend. 

 

Rants and Raves

Rants.

Dog-shit: It's everywhere. I know some of you reading this may know me to dramatize things, but I'm honestly talking about ankle-high dog plops all over the city. There is no legislation here about cleaning up after your dog; some people do, some people don't. It's kind of like holding doors for strangers back in the US. Most people will tend to do it, but for those who don't... watch your boots. 

Raves.

Kissing: As some of you might know, in Argentina, the custom for friends and strangers alike is to kiss each other on the cheek when meeting or being introduced. Women kiss women, men kiss women, and men kiss men. I love this. Thinking about the men in my life back home, I can only imagine the awkward threat to masculinity that would go on if we shared this custom. The first few times I met with my male students, and offered my hand to shake, instead of my cheek to kiss, you would have thought I had offered to castrate them. I was told later that I was acting more  like a manly man than a girl.  I'm guessing they thought this was the first time I had ever gotten this critique. 

Continuing on this sexual freedom theme, I am also a big fan of the man-on-man motorcycle sharing. I'm not talking about 17 and 18-year old schoolmates riding double to save money, i'm talking about big, no-helmet-wearing bad-asses, arms wrapped around the waist, going a buck-ten down cobbled streets kind of sharing. FAAAAAAAAANTASTIC. Motorcyclists here, for whatever reason, don't turn on their headlights, even at night, even in the rain. Riders don't wear helmets (idiots) and i've seen more than one person talking on their cellphone while riding. One handed motorcycling: Buenos Aires = Twilight-zone. 

Public Transportation: The cost to ride a bus or subway here is 33 cents. Enough said. If I wasn't such a freaking liability on the train (falling down, embarrassing myself and my country) I might ride it more. 

Argentine Coffee: Just like the men here, it's strong, hot and frothy. I'm not sure if men can necessarily be frothy (i'm currently imagining them foaming-at-the-mouth with rabies), but the other two make sense. Either way, it's delicious. 

 

I'm an idiot.

Let me just start of by reiterating the title of this post... I'm an idiot. While riding the subway yesterday (completely in la la land, and unprepared for my stop) I realized, with 4 seconds to spare, that I was going to miss the open doors at my stop. Squeezing my way through the crowd, I accidentally caught someone's boot with my own and began to take one of the nastiest spills of my life. Just about 2 feet above the grimy subway floor (which I'm pretty sure i was looking down at mid-air and horizontally) I remember having a fairly lucid thought that went something like "this absolutely can not be happening." And, of course, it did happen, and I landed face/cheek first on the subway floor in a crumpled up heap of embarrassment and battered-pride. I'm talking, 100% of my body, belongings, etc., face first on the floor. When I looked up, seven or eight people stood above me in a semi-circle, hands-outstretched to help me. I knew in that moment that if I didn't get out of the subway car before the doors closed I would endure the worst kind of awkward embarrassment of my life being forced to now sit in front of the 40 train-goers in my car who just saw me yard-sale all over the floor. Needless to say, i got the hell out of there, and watched in a weird daze as the subway doors closed behind me and the train whizzed off into the dark. I need my own reality show. 

In better, less mortifying news, Brian got a big-shot, suit-wearing job with EuroTrust Capital, an investment company that trades out of BA. YAY! And other fun news, I finally have a cellphone! If you want to call me for $2.39 a minute, dial 011 54-11-9-15-3693 3357--you'll lose a half a pound before you even hear my voice typing in all those numbers. It's basically exercise. 

Speaking of, my yoga classes are going great! Brian came with me to my last session (which I'm pretty sure all the women in there loved) and we had a blast. It is definitely much slower than the traditional yoga I am used to, but it's good to stretch and relax for an hour, three times a week. I especially love the last 10 minutes of class when my instructor tucks me in with a blanket and pillow, turns off the lights, sprays some sort of  aromatherapy spray, and lulls us all to sleep with her magic spanish words. If only i knew what she were saying.... 

Weekend.

This weekend we saw a band called  Bicicletas play at this huge club with some of our new friends. The band sounded a lot like the white stripes, but the crowed love them, so eventually we did too. The subways close at 10pm, and re-open at 5am, so most of the people just get really messed up and party till they can get home. We live within walking distance to just about everything, so this isn't a huge problem for us. Today is my first pay day for work (yay!!) so i should be landing a big, fat check for 400 pesos. nice! Brian is meeting with some man who teaches boxing lessons down the street right now. Before he left he thought it would be a good idea to punch himself in the face about 12 times as to "look tougher." Men are aliens.