Adios Amor (Goodbye Argentina!)

A wink of Cupid's eye and my three months in Argentina has come to it's final day. It's been an amazing 12 weeks: sampled the Malbec nectar of the gods, sipped the bitter leaves of yerba mate, carried across the tango floor, exchanged Spanish small talk with the locals, partied until the sunrise kissed my face, captured 1,000 photos and witnessed the postcard perfect images of Iguazu and Patagonia.

I'll sneak out of this city at the wee hours like a lover slipping out of an early bed. I leave quietly and with some sadness. This place and the people in it were an absolute gift on my journey, making a sometimes hectic place feel like home. A warm embrace into the world of travel and it gave me trust in the unknown. I already miss you. My bags are packed and I now head east into the African sun.
But you've got a piece of mi corazon Buenos Aires. And you always will.

Slice of Life: Mis Amigos

Buenos Aires, Argentina

Buenos Aires 101

Land. Jet lag. See the Casa Rosada. Trip on sidewalk. Eat empanadas. Eat steak. Drink Malbec. Dance. Find apartment with other foreigners. Make local Argentine friends. Drink more Malbec. Take Spanish classes. Sound stupid. Dance more. Listen to music in the Park. Get shoulder checked in San Telmo. Try Yerba Matte. Try Fernet y Cola. Hate it. Try it again. Still hate it. Love how "Y" sounds like "Sh". Take the Subte. Get lost. Date a Porteno. See the inside of a 'telo. Go dancing until you see the sunrise. Have locals actually understand (some of) your Spanish. Have an asado. Talk with an older Porteno. Learn what "quilombo" means and use it often. Smile. Fall in love with a whole culture. Support the madres de plazo de mayo. Make fun of the mullets. Start thinking the mullets look kinda hot. Contemplate growing a mullet. Take the train to Tigre. Try to find ground pepper. Rent a bicycle. Get lost. Learn what "Rollingos" are. Heart the cheek kiss. Learn the Argentine hand gestures. Watch a Bocca Junior game. Realize that the Boca Junior fans are the craziest mofos you've ever seen. Take a Tango class. Look stupid. Take a walk through Park Palermo on a Sunday. Wish you had a big latin family. Be alone. Be with friends. Be with a lover. Be alone again. Take disco naps. Take pictures. See Bomba de Tiempo. Step in dog poop. Almost get run over by a car. Feel truly alive. Fall in deeper love with the city. Leave a piece of your heart here.

Slice of Life: Gemelos

San Telmo, Buenos Aires

Quote: When You Travel ...

I feel as though I've really been living this ...

"When you travel, you experience, in a very practical way, the art of rebirth. You confront completely new situations, the day passes more slowly, and on most journeys you do not understand the language the people speak. So you are like a child just out of the womb. You begin to attach much more importance to the things around you because your survival depends upon them. You begin to be more accessible to others because they may be able to help you in difficult situations. And you accept any small favours from the gods with great delight, as if it were an episode you would remember for the rest of your life. At the same time, since all things are new, you see only the beauty in them, and you feel happy to be alive."

- PAULO COELHO, THE PILGRIMAGE

Slice of Life: Patagonia Perfecta

Bariloche, Argentina (Dear Lake Tahoe: How do you like them apples?)

Stranger in a Strangeland

The honeymoon period has worn off a bit but I’m still in love with mi amor, Buenos Aires. But dang is he moody, one day he’s all fresh helado, flowing Malbec and slick dance moves. And the next he’s diesel fumes, catcalls and shoulder checks. My Spanish is coming along day by day, my favorite Lunfardo slang word so far: quilombo, which basically means cluster f--k. Buenos Aires has been good to me though and I’m a true fan. Some initial imprints:

Mullets & Ratails: The variety is downright impressive. Dreadlock ones, long braided ones, shorty perm-like ones, hot soccer player ones. I'm starting to want one. Yes.

PDA: The cheek kiss, men hugging without the stigma of 'looking gay', teens going to town against the nearest building wall. It’s on. All the time.

Street Music: Anywhere, anytime. Tango, lambada, cumbia, reggaeton, jazz, rock and jam bands on every other corner.

Hand Gestures: The Italian past time is in full effect here. My favorite is the criss crossing of the finger on the lips to signify keeping a secret. Or the brushing of the right hand under the chin for "no se". Two hands for "no tengo idea".

Cutsies: Um, hi, um. No I wasn’t standing in line behind the counter with things to purchase. No, go ahead. Hi.

"Que quilombo"!