In the heat of finals last semester I received a call from a friend at Columbia University asking me to come on a volunteer mission to the Jewish communities of Argentina and Uruguay. With blind faith that the mission would be a success, and knowing that this would be one of the last truly flexible summers I would be able to travel the world, I signed on.The objective of our mission was clear. Due to Argentina's recent economic collapse and the subsequent extreme devaluation of the peso, there is currently an inflated amount of poverty within the large South American republic. We were a group of 48 Jewish students from around the country going specifically to provide aid for the Jews of Argentina with a brief excursion into Uruguay.

[Author's Note: While the volunteer work was valuable, enlightening and defiantly the emphasis of our trip, I am going to focus more on our recreational run-ins with the Argentine culture. At the risk of sounding callous, exploring the new country and its culture were what truly made my trip worth it.]

While volunteering during the daytime hours, we took the afternoons and nights to explore this new and interesting place. Our first trip to a bowling alley may shed some light on where Argentina stands technologically (this barring Buenos Aires, which to me felt no different than New York).

As I bowled the first frame, I noticed that there was nothing electrical about the place. All of a sudden, a man - suspended upside down on something resembling a trapeze - lowered himself down beside the pins and manually reset them.

The lack of technology didn't stop there, however. Driving without traffic lights and stop signs certainly gave our cab rides much bang for their buck. Every corner was a game of chicken, and without seatbelts we held on tight.

But perhaps the most appealing aspect of the Argentine culture was its casual feel. The people were warm, always offering to help and constantly reminding us of our "faster, less pleasant, hussle and bussle American styles of life." Truthfully, I didn't mind leaving my American pride behind as we watched coffee shops fill up during the day. There was a general emphasis on enjoying life that I have never felt in the United States.

One particular manifestation of the relaxed Argentine culture was the siesta. Eerily similar to those afternoon naps afforded to us in nursery school, siesta meant that every day - from noon until four - everyone closes shop and goes home for an afternoon break (to our disdain, this included such establishments as banks and post offices). A friend of mine on our trip repeatedly theorized that this "adult naptime" breeds a general lethargy and laziness among the masses. I liked this new idea.

Because they nap during the day, Argentineans sleep very few hours at night. In Buenos Aires there were entertainment establishments that did not open their doors until 1 a.m. or 2 a.m., which incidentally was the bedtime for the 10-year-old boy of one of our host families.

While talking of a trip to Argentina, it would be a crime to leave out one the country's main obsessions and bizarre practices. Argentineans love to Tango. As one would see beat-boxing or rapping on a given New York street, Argentine street musicians and performers set up shop - fully decked out in tuxedos and ballroom gowns - and dance in this highly refined manner waiting for change to be dropped in their hats.

Perhaps one of the most pleasant surprises to an American was the cost of goods and services in Argentina. Goods were cheap, but services were even cheaper. Horseback riding cost us five pesos for an hour - less than two dollars - and taxi rides were one tenth of the price they are in New York. Kosher steak dinners in Buenos Aires were five dollars for generously sized portions, and Internet usage was a mere 30 cents an hour. The devaluation of the peso took our dollars a long way.

With other excursions such as a tour of the famous Santa Fe beer factory, a soccer match and the famous Colon Theater, our trip was quite a window into the Argentine people and their way of life. So as our mission came to an end, I said goodbye to my "adult naptime" and our hazardous taxi rides. I knew that it was time to return to my "faster, less pleasant hussle and bussle American style of life.