30 noviembre 2006

nos llaman los desaparecidos

We're now in Salta, Argentina. Tonight we leave for Sucre, Bolivia, which will allow us to renew our three month Argentine visas when we return to Buenos Aires for the new year.

The following I am transcribing from my past few day's notes:

It occurs to me that I haven't really touched on very much of what happened during our two months in Buenos Aires. In truth, I'm not a great fan of blogging, but I realize that I have some friends who might be interested in and/or entertained by hearing some of what has passed, so I'll try to catch up. Additionally, I'm happy to have kept journals (online or otherwise) of past trips, as they serve as nice memory triggers.

Erica and I left BaAs yesterday, and arrived in Paraná, the capital of the province, Entre Rios, just north of Buenos Aires province. As I was rushing to leave the city yesterday (having been burdened with the chore of retrieving my cell phone at Casa Zoola 30 minutes before our bus was to leave), I jogged past the corner of Avenida de Mayo and Avenida Nueve del Julio, where Erica and I asked the cab driver to drop us off from the air port two months ago. The airport was a minor nightmare that day. The attendants kept arbitrarily moving our baggage back and forth across the terminal (as we searched for my bicycle, which would not arrive for another four days), and then demanded we tip them for the service.

When we arrived in town, we assembled Erica's bike on that same corner, in the middle of a work day, while the bustling Porteños gawked at the ridiculous gringos and their baggage sprawled across the plaza. In retrospect, we're lucky someone didn't run off with anything. At the time, we had little choice but to so collect ourselves in public.

We then lugged ourselves down the street, and in the first half a block spotted Gabriel, a loud, frenetic Israeli who urged us to stay at his hostel, Avenida Hostel (aka Casa Zoola, which I've since learned is a Hebrew word with the same connotation as the Castellano, fiaca, or the practice of doing not very much at all, but relishing it). Gabriel's first sell was a bit pushy for us, so we continued searching, and returned to Casa Zoola after finding each of two other nearby hostels overbooked.

We stayed there for just over a week, during which we explored most of the barrios (checking out an apartment as far out as west Caballito), made a few good friends at the hostel, and learned a few of the city's secrets, before we found a room share with Marina, who helped to make the past couple months completely splendid.

Interestingly enough, the hostel we had initially avoided continued to serve as a sort of home base for us throughout our stay in BaAs. It is where we met Val (with whom we are now travelling), Ivan (our recent spanish instructor) and Cesar (who has now gone off to Brazil, where we may meet him for Carnival in February), who introduced us to some of the city's terrific secrets, its theatre scene, and its proper place within the world of Latin American circus and street performance.



dresmall said...




this reads like suddenly you were uprooted from your computer, ripped from the keyboard. you were only able to type a quick "S" in Morse Code despite your attempts to type the whole "...---...".

30 noviembre, 2006 21:23  

Publicar un comentario en la entrada

<< Home