A Week in Buenos Aires: Adjusting, Exploring, and Embracing the Unexpected

After a whirlwind of travel delays, flight changes, and what felt like a never-ending journey across continents, we finally made it to Buenos Aires. Tired but grateful, we arrived safe and in one piece, stepping out into a city bursting with life, history, and a rhythm entirely its own. The chaos of travel quickly gave way to curiosity as we began our first week immersed in a new country, a new culture, and a new daily rhythm.

This week wasn’t just about adjusting to jet lag or figuring out how to navigate the city’s many buses and subways (although that certainly played a role). It was about beginning to understand Buenos Aires—not just as tourists, but as temporary residents, students, and observers of this vibrant, complicated, and beautiful place. It was about noticing the details: the sound of Argentine Spanish floating in the air, the smell of fresh medialunas in the morning, and the way the city pulses with energy at all hours of the day.

One of the biggest challenges we faced early on was, without a doubt, the language barrier. Even for those of us who had studied Spanish before, Argentine Spanish was something entirely different. The accent, the vocabulary, the speed of speech—it caught many of us off guard. Suddenly, ordering coffee, asking for directions, or even navigating the grocery store became small adventures in themselves.

But that challenge also became one of the most rewarding parts of our week. Every successful exchange, every small moment of communication, felt like a personal victory. And when we stumbled (which we did, frequently), people were often kind and patient, appreciating the effort even if the grammar wasn’t perfect. We began to build confidence, leaning on each other for support, correcting mistakes, and even laughing at our more embarrassing slip-ups.

As we got more comfortable with the city, we also began to settle into our schedules. Between group meetings, orientation sessions, and cultural excursions, our days quickly filled up. But there was always time to wander—whether through local parks, small bookstores, or the streets of a new neighborhood. Buenos Aires is a city of layers: grand European architecture and lively street art coexist, cafés spill out onto the sidewalks, and every corner seems to tell a different story.

We started our official introduction to the city with a guided tour that offered a broad overview of its history, architecture, and key neighborhoods. It was a whirlwind, but it helped us begin to map out the city not just geographically, but culturally. The tour took us through some of Buenos Aires’ most iconic spots—each one offering a glimpse into its unique identity.

One of our first stops was the Museo de Arte Hispanoamericano Isaac Fernández Blanco, a museum tucked away in the Retiro neighborhood. The building itself—a beautiful colonial-style mansion—was as impressive as the art inside. The museum houses a collection of colonial-era artifacts and religious art, primarily from the Andes and other parts of Latin America. Walking through its rooms felt like stepping back in time, and it gave us a deeper appreciation of the continent’s layered colonial history. It also raised questions: how do we reconcile the beauty of this art with the violence and displacement that often accompanied its creation?

Next, we visited the San Telmo Market, one of the most colorful and lively spots in the city. It was a feast for the senses. Vendors sold everything from handmade crafts and antiques to fresh produce and empanadas hot from the oven. The market was buzzing with activity—locals doing their weekly shopping, tourists hunting for souvenirs, musicians playing live tango. It was the kind of place where you could get happily lost for hours. Many of us did, wandering through the maze of stalls and chatting with vendors in halting Spanish, trying new foods, and soaking up the atmosphere.

We also took a walking tour through the city, covering neighborhoods like San Telmo and Monserrat. These districts, among the oldest in the city, are known for their cobblestone streets, colonial buildings, and political murals. Our guide pointed out traces of Argentina’s turbulent history: memorials to the desaparecidos, references to Peronism, and graffiti calling for social justice. It was a powerful reminder that this city is not just a cultural hub but also a deeply political space.

One of the most memorable stops on our tour was La Recoleta Cemetery, a place unlike any cemetery most of us had ever seen. More than just a resting place, it’s a city within a city—rows of elaborate mausoleums, each more ornate than the last, laid out like a neighborhood of the dead. Some of Argentina’s most famous figures are buried there, including Eva Perón, whose tomb remains one of the most visited in the cemetery.

Walking through Recoleta was a surreal experience. The silence, the grandeur, the history—it made us reflect not just on Argentina’s past, but on how societies remember and honor their dead. It was both eerie and beautiful, a fitting metaphor for a country still grappling with its own collective memory.

After a busy week of tours, language adjustments, and sensory overload, our final group excursion was a visit to an estancia, or ranch, just outside the city. It was the perfect way to unwind and reflect on everything we had experienced so far.

The open fields and slower pace were a welcome contrast to the nonstop energy of Buenos Aires. We spent the day learning about indigenous and rural traditions of horse training, hearing stories from gauchos, and even trying some basic riding techniques. It was more than just a fun outing—it was a chance to connect with a different side of Argentine culture, one rooted in land, tradition, and rural life.

There was also time to simply rest—something that had been hard to come by in our first few days. We lounged under the shade of trees, ate traditional food (asado, of course), and shared our first impressions with each other. It was a moment of calm that gave us space to process everything we’d seen and learned—and prepare ourselves for the weeks ahead.

As we wrap up our first week in Buenos Aires, it’s hard to believe how much has already happened. We’ve gotten lost and found again, struggled with Spanish and celebrated small wins, wandered through centuries of history, and begun to find our rhythm in this incredible city. There’s still so much more to see and learn. But if this first week has taught us anything, it’s that being open—to confusion, to discomfort, to wonder—is the best way to begin. We didn’t come here to feel at home; we came to feel the difference. And already, that difference is changing us.