Days like today add to my divided opinion of my home area. On one hand, I miss the Midwestern people, their values, and the work ethic. It’s nice to live in a place where you don’t have to lock your doors. On the other hand, it’s flat, freezing cold, and winter lasts waaaaaay too long. Conversely, Oregon’s people are very different than what I’m used to and much of the culture is strongly at odds with my beliefs. However, I love how we can see the ocean or the mountains by driving 2 hours or less! Why can’t the people and the landscape go hand in hand?!

Last night we had the best discussion of the course as we talked about healing and our faith. I won’t go into specifics because of the personal nature of our discussion, but it really brought our Table 5 group together. We talked about the healing God had done in our lives and how negative experiences could be used for good in the long run. We also prayed for each other and our group gathered around Meredee and prayed for healing of the pain in her leg that has bothered her for 10 years. There were a lot of good tears last night and I had a wonderful glimpse of what God may want the Church to be like. The unpretentious, genuine nature of ECF and it’s people initially drew me there and this attitude was displayed again last night in a beautiful way.

We only have 1 week left of Alpha and then the discussions and amazing dinners will be over. (They feed us a full meal every week!) To extend it though, we’re having a group Christmas party at our house for one last get-together. It’s hard to develop close relationships in a large church and I hope we’re able to maintain these friendships and get to know others as well.

We had a nice talk and Michelle outlined the steps I would have to take to be a part of their team. There were four steps: 1) Complete the application for a license with the state 2) Get fingerprinted 3) Complete 40 hours of training 4) Pass the licensing exam. I had done step one and am working on the training. I should have done the fingerprinting a couple weeks ago, but had not.

So today I went down to the Sheriff’s office, took a number, and waited in line to be fingerprinted. It was a long wait as their glacial pace closely resembled that of their cousins over at the DMV–which I need to visit soon as well. But once I stepped into the office, it was actually fun to do the fingerprinting. It never occurred to me that it would be digital! I had visions of an ink pad and walking out of there with stained fingertips. Nope. The machine was state of the art and the man doing the printing knew what he was doing. First they scan your 4 fingers together on the left hand, then the thumb. They then repeat this on the right hand. After this, they scan all 10 fingers individually, rolling them from side to side to ensure a complete print. I liked watching the patterns of my fingerprint appear on the screen and it was easy to see why no two fingerprints are identical. Afterward, he printed (with a laser printer) my prints on the official FBI card and I was on my way.

They might be lacking it customer service and behind in other ways, but that was cool! Plus, now Big Brother can watch over me a bit more easily.

Her new toy arrived today, a day early, and she’s already taking a liking to it. As I speak she’s in the other room looking for anything to shoot–candles, pots & pans, bananas, etc.

Mer teases me that I have the coolest wife in the world. How many other women would buy a camera in such a situation? I tease her back reminding her that not many people begin learning photography with access to the two professional $1600+ lenses I have.

Not only is my wife’s purchase guy-ishly cool, it’s also something I enjoy and can use as a business backup. Also, we’ll have fun as I teach her photography and have her accompany me on some shoots. Plus, the camera shoots 720p video–something mine cannot do! I do have the best wife in the world.

At 6 we had a review session with Neil. Even though it was only supposed to cover the basics of exposure, both Thomas and I decided we didn’t want to miss anything Neil had to say. It ended up being a great couple hours that allowed us to sneak in some advanced learning. The first 30-45 minutes were review, but after that he got into the Zone System and explaining how he metered exposure. Neil’s amazing when it comes to performing these steps mentally and it’s fun not only to hear him explain ideas, but to hear how he thinks through the process. He brought some photos from his trip to Russia and explained how he metered the light in each scene. These review sessions are optional, but there’s no way Thomas and I are missing any of them with Neil.

After the review, I went with Thomas, Mia, and Kirsty up north to Nine Pipes for some sunset pictures. We didn’t get going until after 9 and arrived shortly before 10. We missed the good light by about 20 minutes, but it was still nice to jump in the car and go see a new place with other people. I ended up getting one nice shot of a light trail left by passing cars and a semi. This worked well as one of my required shots for class the next day.

On the way back home I stayed quiet most of the trip. We were listening to some urban, thug, whatever-you-want-to-call-it music from a San Francisco artist. I can’t remember the guy’s name, but he was one angry, bitter dude. He was obviously anti-American and anti-military. In those situations I can’t have a normal conversation and pretend that I’m not hearing what’s being said. So, I didn’t say anything, mainly because I don’t know any of them well enough to do so without sounding preachy. But man did that music rub me the wrong way. It almost made me want to go back to Wal-Mart and talk to the people who love this country.

I drove down to the Twin Cities on Thursday since the selection of foreign vehicles is slim here in Fargo. That evening I looked around a few dealerships, but they were significantly more expensive than what I had been seeing at CarSoup and other online ads. I did see a Toyota Avalon in great shape, but with a not-so-pretty exterior green color. I decided to keep that one in the back of my mind as a backup. On Friday I met with Don, a guy in the southwest metro area who had a Nissan Maxima for sale. I had planned to buy his Maxima because it was at a good price and loaded with extras. I had even gone so far as to list it as the collateral on the loan we worked out. It had 113,000 miles and appeared to be in great shape from everything I had seen in his ad and read in the CarFax report. We took it for a test drive and I just wasn’t comfortable with the vehicle. First, the sport suspension gave a much stiffer ride than I had imagined and wasn’t quite what I was looking for. Second, the “Check Engine” light was on. Don said it had come on 3 days earlier and that it was a minor vacuum issue they would take care of at the dealership. I believed him, but still didn’t like the fact that the light was on at all. Finally, the brakes were in good shape, but I didn’t like how the pedal felt. It seemed too soft to me. I thanked Don for the test drive, but declined to purchase of the vehicle because I didn’t feel right about it. Looking back, the “Check Engine” light was a gift from God because, without that, I may have talked myself into taking the vehicle, even though I wasn’t crazy about it. I left and told Don to call me when it was fixed and maybe we could talk again.

That night I went to a few more dealerships, without much idea of what I was looking for. I test drove a 2000 Maxima, but it was too expensive and had the older 3.0 engine. On the way back to Paul & Leah’s place, I stopped by an Infiniti dealership just out of curiosity. I had been looking at Nissans and had assumed that Infinitis were too expensive. Much to my surprise, there were a few very nice, reasonably priced used cars in the front of their lot. They were still out of my price range, but they did pique my interest enough to keep looking online. I pulled up CarSoup again and was even more surprised when I saw several cars loaded with features and still priced where I could afford them. After some frustration early in the day, this was nice to see.

Today I decided to check out an Infiniti first and then maybe the Toyota Avalon later. The Infiniti I35 was located at Rosedale Chevrolet, a GM dealership of all places. As soon as I saw the car, I knew it was what I had been looking for. While looking  inside it, I said out loud, “This is my car.” Test driving was a mere formality. We sat down to talk about the price and they came down an additional $600 from their Internet price, which was already lower than the window price. Had I been a tougher bargainer, maybe I could have gotten a lower price, but I was satisfied and believed the car to be a good value given its excellent shape and numerous features. I wanted it and they wanted to get rid of it since it had been on the lot for a month. Both parties were happy. (The only complication was the number of papers I had to sign. There must have been 10-15 signatures required for various waivers, bills of sale, etc. It was absurd!)

I brought Paul back so he could drive the other car and then we were off. I was very grateful to God for having provided this car for me. I could not have been happier with my purchase and felt very fortunate to have such a nice car. This car would not have even been available in Argentina without a special order and here I just drove to the dealership and took it home. To have power seats, windows, door locks, sunroof, and heated seats was more than I could believe.  I didn’t feel guilty, because that wouldn’t do any good. But it did feel different. And to top it off, this thing was fun to drive. Wow, could it get up and go and handle those corners!

More than anything, I will miss those small moments with people–Spanish classes at Burger King with Maria, having an English practice session with Valeria along the 9 de Julio, and a host of memories with Vanesa–taking that awful train from Once to Merlo, walking from Palermo to her apartment in Almagro, taking care of her when she was extremely sick, and watching movies in my apartment and ordering pizza. I cannot share these moments with photos like I can with a trip, but they are nonetheless special. I have a feeling I will look back upon these moments as some of the happiest of my life.

A month ago I was so eager to leave Buenos Aires and didn’t think much of it. Now I am fighting back the swell of emotion that is almost overpowering me. As I sit on this plane to Ushuaia, I now have my sunglasses on to hide my red, swollen eyes from the Japanese woman next to me. Were I alone, there would be a flood of tears expressing joy, grief, gratitude, uncertainty, and emotions I have yet to understand. For now, I have to control myself and quickly wipe away the tears that fall below the perimeter of my sunglasses. Even if I wanted to tell the woman next to me about ECELA, my homestay, Argentine culture, the Spanish language, or love, it wouldn’t serve much purpose as she speaks neither English nor Spanish.

What are all these emotions? Why am I not feeling the same excitement at the prospect of traveling? I think it’s the finality of it all. I know that when I return to BA, I will have only 2 or 3 days and then will have to return to the United States. No longer is it, “Probably in 6 months to a year” or “We’ll see how it goes.” Now it’s “I need to leave around the middle of May to make it to Montana before June 2nd.” There’s a finality to it and this scares me. I’m not pessimistic, but the uncertainty is overwhelming right now. Coming to Argentina was one of the best decisions of my life. Sure, I will reutn to the U.S. much poorer than if I had saved the money and continued working. But I wouldn’t trade the experience or my new perspective for any new car, house payment, or other commodity. I thought I’d come to Argentina to learn Spanish and find some answers for my life. I did learn Spanish and a lot about life and myself, but return with more questions than answers. This is probably part of the maturation process, but it’s overwhelming right now.

Among the questions are: What will I do for a profession? Why learn photography now? How will I use Spanish so as to continue developing my abilities? How can I serve others and show them God’s love? Should I go back to school? Will I regret leaving behind a woman I loved or will it prove to be a wise choice in spite of the pain? If this was the right choice, can I trust God for a wife that would be an even better match? Will Vanesa recover from the heartache I caused her? Why does it matter that I maintain my conervative convictions in a world plagued by modern liberalism? Why not just be indifferent or go along with popular thinking? Is God pleased with me? Do I have th emost random life and collection of interests ever or will this all come together somehow? How are the Twins going to do in 2008?

I realize that the answer is the same to all these questions: trust God. For me, in my youth and weakness, this is much harder to practice than it is to say. Yet I couldn’t imagine walking through life without the certainty that God watches from on high and only waits for me to listen. I’ve really struggled with my faith at times during the last year and feel as though this is another chance to renew that faith and discover what it means to trust God.

My friend Mike Tittel is going to southern Chile the beginning of February to photograph an adventure race. Upon hearing the bad news of my lens, I decided I would sell my current camera and lens and ask Mike to bring me new equipment. Theoretically this should work well because camera equipment is so much more expensive in Argentina and I could sell used equipment for about the same amount for which I purchased it in the US. One of Vanesa’s friends may even be interested in purchasing my stuff either as is or repaired. If that doesn’t work out, I’ll have my friend Jonathan pick them up once they’re repaired and he should be able to sell them on Craigslist. I talked with Mike last night and he was kind enough to agree to my request as long as I made sure to be in Punta Arenas, Chile on February 9th when he arrives. I told him I’d be there the day before, just to be be safe, and meet him at the airport if necessary. Despite the costs and loss of time, I’m so happy to have a way out!

I didn’t exactly pick the best time to fall and break a camera. The only Nikon repair center in the country was relocating their repair facilities and, even though I first stopped there on December 28th, they didn’t take a look at it until today. To their credit, they warned me that their move would delay repairs until at least the 15th of January. However, the man working the counter did promise me that it would be done by the end of January at the very latest. To be certain that I understood correctly, I asked him to verify this and he explicitly repeated that it would be done by the end of January or sooner. I had little choice but to wait around for the repair. It was either that or fly to Chile and stay at a hostel while I waited. I’m not sure how long it would have taken there, but at least I already had a place to stay in Buenos Aires.

Today when I went online to check on the status and sign off on the repair, things had changed. The form said that it would be “impossible” to have the camera ready by the end of the month. (Imagine seeing the word “impossible” in this context in the United States. Doesn’t happen.) So, I got on the subway and headed down to find out what was happening. Apparently, they had experienced some difficulties at the new location. The phone lines had not been up and running and the electricity had been out in the entire neighborhood. He did not specify how long this lasted, but said they were even more backed up than expected. When I asked about a concrete deadline for a repair, he had no idea. He placed a call to the service center and they couldn’t give me one either. I also asked for an explanation on a possible repair required for the lens, but it was difficult to get one because the lens and camera were at the repair center, in another part of town. I was told to come back Tuesday so that we could talk with the technician assigned to my case. When I asked, “Why not Monday?”, I was told the technician would not be working Monday (or Saturday apparently, even though they’re open). They would also be missing a technician for a while when he went to the United States for training.

So there was Argentina customer service in a nutshell: a bunch of excuses and no apology or attempt at accommodation whatsoever. Not once was there a “I’m sorry Mr. Berg.” They guy was decent enough, but I still found myself desperately wishing I were in the U.S. I understand that things go wrong, but I’m not used to so many excuses and so few absolutes. I left the office exasperated. It was already frustrating enough having to sit around for 3-4 weeks just waiting for a repair. To be told it would be even longer was more than I could handle. I had reached the point of frustration where all the emotions are gone and you can’t get angry or do much of anything.

We’ll see what happens Tuesday, but I can’t just wait around. It’s killing me that I’m losing time to see some of the most beautiful landscape in the world. If I were in the U.S. in this situation, I’d buy a new camera online and then sell the repaired one on eBay, taking somewhat of a loss, but not coming out too far behind. But this is somewhat cost prohibitive here in Argentina as the prices of DSLRs are more than 50% higher than at home. However, at some point I’m going to have to do something or I may go nuts. It would just be nice if I could get a straight answer from someone and solid customer service. I guess I’ll have to break my Mac if I want that to happen.

I realized my error while cleaning the second window. At first I thought, “Hmmm…Ooops…That wasn’t smart.” But I didn’t freak out because it seemed like a mistake you make in a dream or on a TV sitcom, not in real life. So I went back to cleaning and then it hit me. “I’m stuck on the balcony!” My keys were inside and the owners of the apartment were out of the country with the other set. I couldn’t call a locksmith because it was Sunday and with my security door that has 4 bolts that turn with 1 key, it would either be impossible or more expensive than I could have imagined. I sent a text message to my friend JD to let him know there wasn’t much point in coming over, given the circumstance. He suggested breaking the glass, and again, it seemed surreal. “Do I really have to break a window that is taller than I am? There has to be another way!” I sent a text to Maria’s brother Pablo asking if he knew a locksmith. He told me that it would be cheaper to replace the glass than for a locksmith to open a security door on a Sunday.

I’m no glass expert, but I knew it wouldn’t be cheap to replace such large, double pane glass. I laid down to think for a few minutes, but nothing came to me. I couldn’t jump because it was 15-20 feet to the ground. Jumping to the neighbor’s balcony seemed like one option, but that was still at least 6 feet with no chance for a running start. And if I missed, a broken neck awaited me below. Plus, the landlords were out of town and I still wouldn’t be able to enter the apartment. The doors had a lot of flex and I was able to force them apart in the middle and place part of my arm inside. But I wasn’t even close to reaching the latch and I couldn’t insert more than my forearm. Lastly, I had visions of some MacGyver-like ending as I pulled off a small branch from a nearby tree. I tried using this as an extension of my arm. I could reach the distance of the lock, but I had little control and would not be able to generate any force even if I was lucky enough to find the latch. After an hour and a half or more, I finally resigned myself to breaking the glass.

This was no ordinary glass. It was tough stuff–which made me realize even more that this would not be cheap. There happened to be 2 large rocks on the balcony. These were used to hold the shutters open and were the perfect size for such a job. Had they not been there, I wouldn’t have stood a chance of breaking that glass. I pummeled the door 6 or 7 times, but nothing happened other than making a few marks and a lot of noise. I quickly had the attention of the whole neighborhood and the adults across the street eyed me with suspicion. Eventually, after about 20 healthy whacks, the glass shattered and I reached through and opened that elusive latch.

As a general rule, it’s not a good idea to put a hole in your house–especially when it’s going to be 95 degrees the next day. But I guess it’s better than sleeping outside on a stone balcony when it’s 95 degrees and you’re without water. I taped a couple garbage bags over the opening. I’m not sure if they’re doing any good, but it makes me feel better about running the air conditioning. They came by to measure on Tuesday and called me back with a price of 439 pesos. Hopefully it will be fixed by the end of next week and the hole won’t scare away any prospective apartment renters.

I won’t mention any of my frustration. Let’s just say when it rains, it pours. Life happens and sometimes the timing just seems cruel. Also, I dropped my small camera in Parque Monte Leon as well. It doesn’t seem to be focusing too well for these pictures.

The oral examination proved to be simpler than I had imagined. We were allowed to choose among three topics and then given 15 minutes to prepare some notes for our 4-5 minute presentation. I cannot recall the first topic choice, but the second was some drivel about how we’re consuming too much energy and whether or not I was in agreement with the premise. I opted for the final choice, discussing the pros and cons of learning a foreign language in another country versus learning it online. Given my experience in another country and online familiarity, this was an easy fit and I had no problem filling the allotted time. The 2 middle age women moderating the discussion were amiable and made me feel comfortable. Introducing myself and sharing a brief conversation helped me warm up as well. They then asked me to proceed to giving an impromptu description of one of two drawings. I chose one depicting a group of children in a library, with a couple of noisy boys and an irritated female student. After this came the discussion of my selected topic and before I knew it, the time was up. When practicing with Maria, I had become nervous. But on exam day, I was at ease and did fine.

Saturday was an interesting day to say the least. Remember taking standardized tests or the ACTs or SATs? Remember those strict moderators who kept a stopwatch and when they said, “Time. Pencils down,” you dared not disobey. While they seemed overly excited about their jobs at the time, I sure missed them on Saturday! Apparently even the giving of exams can have a Latin American influence. What chaos.

We were told to arrive 8 a.m., 1 hour before the official start time. Being good little North American, European, and Asian students, we readily complied. I figured between 8 and 9 we would be filling out forms, writing our names on exams, going through instructions, and preparing to start at 9 on the dot. Nope. We sat in a makeshift line/grouping in the hallway until 9 a.m. There were no registration tables, no signs, no groupings according to beginner, intermediate, or advance level. Nothing. Just disorder. Between 8:55 and 9, the three groups were finally summoned to their respective testing areas. After arriving in our classroom, the two women administering the exam fiddled around and were so laid back it drove all us foreigners nuts. We finally got underway about 9:30, but it was strange. One woman told us we could start right away and the other said to wait until everyone had their test. So some were taking the test for 5-7 minutes while others waited. There was no official statement of, “You may begin” or “This section will end at this time.” It was all approximate.

I originally thought there was an hour to do the reading (too much time) and an hour to do the writing (too little time). But it was a flat 2 hours to divide as we wished. This was a pleasant surprise and I knocked out the reading comprehension section in about 25 minutes, leaving a little over 90 minutes to draft two writings of 150-200 words each and then recopy them on the official essay paper. Writing in a foreign language remains difficult for me, but undoubtedly, I was at least able to demonstrate intermediate level competency in these two writings.

Our 30 minute intermission came half an hour late due to the lack of organization. We regathered at 12 p.m., only to have the next section finally commence at 12:15. (Who knows why they couldn’t pass out papers during the break?). As a group we listened to four different audio excerpts and answered three questions for each. This required about 25 minutes and I have no idea how I did. The D.E.L.E. concluded with a multiple choice grammar section of 60 questions. Having been here as long as I have and studied at a language school, this was easily my strongest section. I may have a small vocabulary and speak with a white man accent, but I could teach Spanish grammar to many native speakers. Still, the grammar proved to be rather challenging and I closely reviewed or changed 5-7 answers the second time through. I felt fortunate to have had a good teacher in María. This section of the test also did not have an exact stopping time. We were allowed to leave upon finishing the exam and I’m sure some students pushed beyond the limit.

The racial dynamic of my examination group was interesting. The girl to my right was from Japan and didn’t know any Spanish before arriving 3 months ago. It took guts for her to take that test after only 3 months and the grammar section must have been especially challenging given the tough questions dealing with subjunctive and other tricky situations. Compared to her, I felt like a lazy bum given how much time I had to prepare. To my left, the German girl in her mid twenties was about to blow a gasket with all the disorder in that setting. Somehow I think the organizational paradigm in Buenos Aires differs slightly from that in Munich. I may have been the only North American in the room. The 35-40 students were comprised of 12-15 Asians, 10-15 Northern Europeans, and a handful from Italy and various other countries. Without a doubt, learning abroad is no longer only for the rich or adventurous.

After the test, I was accompanied next door to the mall food court by a nice girl from Holland named Marisca. It’s always fun talking in Spanish with someone from Europe who is capable of speaking perfect English. For having only been here since July, she spoke excellent Spanish and I’m sure she passed the exam. We chatted for a couple hours and got along well. Felling like old geezers, we talked about how different kids are today and how they don’t have nearly the respect or discipline we had. We also opined about jobs and their relation to the culture. Marisca knew a lot of people in Holland who worked and worked, but never enjoyed their lives. She said almost the entire culture was like that. Buenos Aires, while at the other extreme, had allowed her the chance to relax and not always think about what she had to do next. She had no interest in joining the career track back home after finishing up her studies next year. It’s interesting how many people like that I meet here–driven, yet wanting to go other places, do different things, and not settle into a routine like many others.

Needless to say, the D.E.L.E. was more eventful than it should have been. Hopefully I will be seeing that diploma sometime in December or January.

For anyone who’s interested, you can download full D.E.L.E. exams, complete with the audio exercises and all the answers, if you want to give it a whirl.