The dog-whispering Americans explore Cordoba

There were two reasons we decided to take a weekend trip to Cordoba. The first was… why not? We could always use a few days out of the city and as long as we chose to go somewhere relatively close it wouldn’t put much of a dent in anyone’s bank account.

The second, and probably more pressing, reason was that Samm and Jake were getting ready to go back to the States in a matter of days. We decided to take one last “family vacation” together before they left. Living, eating, working, sleeping and celebrating together just weren’t enough. We needed to spend some real quality time together.

There were five players on this adventure: Meredith, Samm, Jake, Megan and myself. Jake is Samm’s boyfriend, though he is more appropriately described as our fifth roommate and close friend. During a conversation in the beginning of our friendship Jake said to me, “I have never done anything to intentionally hurt anyone in my life.” I’ve heard people say that sort of thing before, but Jake’s one of the only people I really believe. That’s just the kind of person he is: genuine and kind.

We met Megan through Samm, who knew her from home. Megan is, for lack of a better word, versatile. She’s a planner, a hostess, a fashionista (though she’d probably disagree), a comedian, and a motivator. When it was discovered that her sister’s name is Kelly and my sister’s name is Megan, we formed an immediate friendship. Maybe I’m searching for it, but I see a lot of my sister in my new friend. They’re both organized, crazy smart and have a laugh that infects the entire room.

Putting everything off until the last possible minute, we packed, researched the bus schedule, and booked the hostel a few hours before we were planning to leave. After a twelve-hour bus ride, we arrived just in time to catch the last few hours of sunlight. Our first mission was to find food, warmth and beer. We found a little restaurant down the street from our hostel, where we spent the evening playing cards and eating.

Family dinner! Jake, me, Megan, Meredith and Samm.

The next morning we woke up, caffeinated and prepared to wander around the city. Megan had mapped out a general route that would take us around the city to see all the tourist sites. We were meandering down the sidewalk when we stumbled upon a theme park. A lone cotton candy vendor stood in the cold underneath the arched “Superpark” sign. The park catered to a much younger crowd, but the bumper cars sold us. We bought some tickets and spent the next hour on a roller coaster that looked like a dragon, a nausea-inducing spinning ride, and a haunted house that was more creepy than it was scary. We looked at the more age appropriate swinging ride, fittingly named The Terminator, and decided that, though dangerous and a little reckless, we had to go on it. The soundtrack of the 5-minute upside-down thrill ride went something like this:

Samm: GOD DID NOT INTEND FOR THIS TO HAPPEN! SWEET JESUS, SAVE ME!
Meredith: Why did they let me bring my purse on this ride?!
Megan: (holding up her camera snapping pictures) SMILE!
Kelly and Jake: Hysterically laughing.

We used our last tickets on the bumper cars.Where we all learned a lesson in the viciousness of children and how Argentines learn to drive.

With our adrenaline still pumping, we left Superpark feeling grateful that we had stumbled into such a unique start to our day, though Samm was still feeling more grateful that she made it off The Terminator alive.







Stray dogs are everywhere in Argentina. Samm, an avid dog-lover, stops and gives nearly every stray she passes some love and attention. The dogs in Cordoba must not have been accustomed to this because they would get up from their spot in the sun and follow us after we’d started walking away. So as the five of us walked the streets, admiring the architecture and cobblestone streets, there was a pack of dogs trotting behind us.

One American walking around in Argentina sticks out like a sore thumb. There is just something about the way we dress, walk, stand and - obviously - talk that screams "foreigner!" After living here for several months, we've all learned a few tricks to help us blend in a little more. Be that as it may, it's nearly impossible to look at all like a native when you're expats traveling in groups. Five Americans with a little herd of dogs following them around? Yeah. We turned more than a few heads.

Unfortunately a traumatizing pigeon-related experience forced us to ditch the dogs. We were all happily trotting along when our favorite dog, Terminator (named after our new favorite ride), decided to go all "I'm a hungry, stray dog" on us and turn an ill-fated, already deceased pigeon into his lunch. Granted, it's the circle of life... we just didn't want to watch it. Horrified, girls screaming, we broke into a run down the street. Here's an image for you: four Americans screaming, laughing and sprinting down the cobblestone streets of Cordoba; some sort of yellow lab mut with a pigeon in his mouth attempting to follow; and Megan, laughing with legs crossed to prevent her from wetting herself, pointing at Terminator and screaming, "No! Bad Terminator! DROP IT!" Ridiculous and disturbing, yet absolutely hilarious.

Terminator

The traumatizing lunch.

We spent the rest of the day walking around nearly the entire city. Once the sun started going down and it started getting colder, we headed back to our hostel. It was a night we could have spent in Buenos Aires: we spent the night holed up hanging out with each other, joking around with each other and drinking the local brewskies. There is just something special about making new memories in new places with the best kind of friends.

View of the city from a park.

Museo Superior de Bella Artes (Fine Arts Museum)

Cordoba's main Cathedral.

Manzana Jesuitica, the Jesuit Block, consisting of the National University, the Domestic Chapel, and National College.

A memorial in the Manzana Jesuitica to commemorate some of the 30,000 people abducted during Argentina's "Dirty Wars," a period in which the government kidnapped and tortured anyone who was thought to be against their beliefs.

The Domestic Chapel and plaza in the Manzana Jesuitica.

Cordoba Supreme Court.

Cathedral by night.

The next day we took a bus to a villa outside of the city to visit Che’s childhood home. The house was small and had been turned into a museum commemorating Che’s life. The walls were lined with pictures of Che, his family and Fidel. The famous motorcycle from his South American journey stood in one of the rooms. We each got a booklet in English that explained all the pictures and artifacts. It was really interesting being in the home of someone who has had such an impact on an entire continent’s political views.

The motorcycle on which Che drove across South America.

"...be able to feel in the deepest part of yourselves, any injustice committed to anyone in any part of the world. This is the most beautiful quality in a revolutionary." -Ernesto 'Che' Guevara in a letter to his children. October 1966

Alta Gracia, one of Che's childhood homes, just outside Cordoba

I wouldn’t call our weekend in Cordoba exciting or adventurous. The city is pretty basic and didn’t have much to do or see, but the weekend was a massive success nonetheless. The whole point of going was to spend non-stop quality time without work, computers or anything else getting in the way. We spent the bus ride home passing around a couple bottles of wine, reliving some our favorite Argentina memories, and planning the last few nights we would have with Samm and Jake in Buenos Aires.