Our program organized a tour to Alta Gracia, a tourist destination about an hour outside of Cordoba. Somehow I had it in my head that this was some sort of Jesuit ruin site and that there would be hiking involved. Both Sarah and I came prepared wearing sneakers and toting water bottles. Our first clue to the contrary was our guide’s choice of footwear, four-inch wedge sandals. It turns out Alta Gracia is a massive church and monastery built by the Jesuits in I’ve-already-forgotten-the-date-because-I’m-the-worst-history-major-ever. So at least I had the Jesuit part right. We were wandering around the place, taking in the ancient stonework and replicas of 17th century cooking utensils when our guide casually mentioned that, up until the 1960s, the whole place belonged to the Lozada family and their heirs. As in, the family I’m currently living with.

Huh? Whaaaaat? Rewind. Yes, that’s right, my host family used to own a Jesuit Estancia and their great-grandparents (or something) are entombed inside the Church. Apparently, a few years ago they organized a reunion and 800 heirs of the Lozada family came to Alta Gracia. And yes, I’m 90% sure she said eight hundred, as in, eight zero zero. NBD.

We also went to Che Guevara’s childhood home. Sadly, as far as I can tell, no one in my family is related to him.