Happy Birthday Daddio!

Since I know you like when I write in my bolg, I figured I would make you a special post.
Today was a nice day. I woke up at about 11 to go to Paso de la Patria with Germán (my host brother) to eat asado. Mabel (who lives with us, but is not related) got up at about the same time as me, and while she drank mate, I ate an orange and we watched part of a George Clooney movie in spanish. Germán brought Vero (his girlfriend) home, and then we got in the truck and drove off to Corrientes, listening to Joaquin Sabina (Spanish musician with singular voice). It was very hot. When we got to Paso, Jorge made a joke about the heat. It´s actually fall here, I think.
Clarita and Jeimie (Cheli´s good friend and her husband) ate asado with us and we talked about being kosher (since they are jews) and about sacred cows in India (where Fede, my other host brother, went for an exchange year). I slept a nice siesta, and then drove home with Ger.
I went to a friend´s house for a bit, then walked home. By that time, it was really nice out; balmy with a little breeze.
I stopped at a kiosco on Avenida 9 de Julio to call you, dad, but you weren´t home, so I left a message and called your cell, but either you can´t get international calls, or youñre having too much fun to pick up (which would be the best situation!) Then I walked the rest of the way home, through the Plaza 25 de Mayo, where there was an aoutdoor chamamé concert going on and people were dancing. I looked for my tango friends who usually hang around any folkloric event, but they weren´t there, so I went home and wrote this post, because I wanted to tell you what the weather was like here on your birthday, beacause I thought that would be kind of interesting. It´s tropical.
I love you very much, Dad,

March

One thing I really like about Resistencia is that they take their orange jucie seriously. I remember the first time I had really excellent orange juice. It was in a little cafe in New York City the time I went with my mom and HLL and Jenny, and I don´t remember anything else about that breakfast other than the big glass of freshly squeezed ornage juice that I was served.
Well here, all orange juice is like that. There is no other good juice. All the other juice is Tang or Clight and people usually only drink it for tereré. But the orange juice is unbelieveable. It´s always freshly squeezed and cool with a big piece of ice in the glass. There is always pulp and the flavor is always perfect.
School has started again and it´s going pretty well. The only class I really like is math. It´s kind of weird how they do school here. They´re not really into doing photocopies so on the first day of classes, insted of handing out a paper with the objectives and schedule for the class (like we usually get in classes in the states) We all had to copy down a dictation of what we were going to be learning that year. It was such a waste of time! I don´t understand why they do it that way. They don´t even save paper or anything, because everyone copies on to paper they have. They do a lot of dictations here, I don´t really think it´s a great way to learn because the kids are just writing, they´re not listening, processing and then writing their own version of what´s going on. I mean, maybe they learn that way and I´m just wired differently, but I think it´s important to write everything in your own words, instead of copying so much.