Buenos Aires

Well after not having done anything on this site since September, I´m newly interested in airing my dirty laundry online. Is it the air? I´m just so happy at the moment to be in South America. What´s funny is that I was so sad to leave Santiago and California both, yet content in arriving in each new place. Now that I´m in BA, I´m going to have to start preparing myself anew for departure. I truly suck at transition.

So my first impressions of Buenos Aires seem to be heavily resting on the initial experiences in the airport. The airport feels clean and open. I felt comfortable, right off the plane. The surprise fee bothered me, but the people dealing with me were wonderful. They treated me very humanely, which I found surprising. One girl came out from her booth to talk to her boss about my case and returned to explain the haps without excitement, defensiveness, or trouble. She apologized and let me know what had to happen next. The other girl was also relaxed and communicative without being short or cold. The more time that passes, the more these skills are impressive to me. I am more and more surprised and awed by friendliness or general kindness. I want to thank people for their kindness, even when small. Something, however, stops me from just saying, "thank you for being nice to me." Maybe in a year or two, a kind word will bring tears and unleashed gratidute. I used to think this stuff was standard. Maybe next year when I grovel to anyone practicing kindness and humanity, my habit of repeating myself will be even larger and in charger. Then I can repeat my grovelings and blubbery thanks. Thank you for being kind! Thank you! Thank you!

The rest of my judgement of Buenos Aires will probably have a lot to do with the expenses of meals, the way I do or don´t get robbed, my interractions with the police, and the public transportation system. If I go to a good party, I´ll probably tell the world that Buenos Aires is the 9th wonder of the world. If I don´t maybe I´ll go on to tell everyone what a sad, sleepy place this is.

I can´t relate to the couple that I met on the way to my hostel who seems to want to spend their vacation together like two pieces of wet paper. She wanted to go to museums, see art, and go to the Venice of Argentina. He wants not to plan anything and wander the streets. She said, ¨...and that´s fine¨with a damp look on her face. I asked if they would do separate things. Her response was one of surprise, saying as if obvious that they would stay together the whole time. This is where I got lost, since, as I said, I can´t relate. She said that she would rather spend time together than apart. Being that the couple was a middle aged, wedded unit, I immediately made assumptions about the relationship. I assume the two see each other regularly. I assume they do many things together. I assume both people will seriously compromise their way of seeing the city by being together every moment. Without talking to them or knowing anything, I start wondering if they fear being apart. And then I can hear my youthful arrogance. I´m looking on the surface of the lives of others, judging and thinking that my way of not being married is so much better. It is most likely that any amount of truth that I see from my position is greatly exaggerated and obviously there are complexities to their habits that I can´t see. Perhaps spending quality time with your spouse is not so easily done, whether or not you see one another daily. I wished them well and carried my heavy self up the stairs to my temporary residence where I was happy to be, alone or not. I wonder if that says anything about my maturity level.