It's the Little Things: Day 9

Little things make the day.

Things like the excellent choice of glasses frames I saw on a young schoolgirl today, and like the cool invisibility of sitting on my balcony in the frigid night air this evening. Things like finding a capo for my guitar at a music store on Florida with a lovely older salesman who knows his stuff about music. Things like taking shelter in a bookstore when rain threatens. Things like having just enough cash to get to your friends' house, where you are safe from cash needs. Things like having just enough cash for all you must do tomorrow after the day's purchases, and like getting every article of clothing--every sock--back from the laundromat to whom you hesitatingly entrusted your dearest sweatshirt and leggings. Things like having time to practice guitar. Things like having a family to talk to, and like having the technology to extend conversations internationally. Things like conversation and email and phone and people who genuinely care. Things like living blessed in Buenos Aires.

Observations: Day 8.5

Yesterday, I sent postcards, spent time outside in the sun, and went to the Flores area to help with a music class in one of the villas, and then attend a Bible study at the church again. I spent the night with the Zs. I feel much better.

Now, I would like to post some of my observations of the trip so far, rather than just rattle off the activities that fill each day. Here goes.

Getting on the subte at the Carabobo station, the train is mostly empty at this hour; a few older men, a few young women, maybe some middle-age businessmen, and definitely no school children, for it's school time. If I'm lucky, it is one of the old trains--those that are not yet out of commission, from decades long past. The all-wood interior is softly lit by overhead lamps of an antique sort of style, a refreshing distinction from the fluorescent ocular horror of subte hallways and newer trains. I board the train car, and watch the handhold rings that have supported decades of people rock gently back and forth. As I ride from one end of the A line to the other, I look forward to the unidentifiable smell that accosts my nose at about Castro Barrios, or a little bit sooner. It is a warm, welcoming, woody scent, almost sauna-like but drier. I don't know if anybody else even notices it. I certainly have no idea what's causing it. Maybe it is best to just enjoy it.

Eventually, it is time to get off at Peru, and hop on the D line home. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven stops later on a new train. The uglier ones, sans-character. The main activities of passengers: sleep, listen to iPod, look at one another. What an amusement to watch people watch other people, knowing that you yourself are most likely meanwhile being watched.

Walk the four blocks home, one straight shot on Agüero. Pull out the keys, but not too prematurely--don't want to flash the fact that soon I'll be a bit distracted opening a door, prime time for those inclined to rob me. Successfully and quickly open the door, walk through, make sure it shuts well. Bien cerrada, okay, going up. I take the stairs, for a bit more movement. Besides, it's only two flights. Unlock the front door--two separate locks and keys--and open the door. By now I know to expect no one else there; a transformation that occurred very quickly, thankfully. The space is mine, for better or for worse. 

Open the curtains, pull up the shutters, let some natural light in. The same in my bedroom, the other bedroom. Ahhh. Open the balcony doors, sit there. The air is fresh and, today, cool. I should clear the table, it's a mess. I should switch my clothes from the first bedroom to the other--I switched to the one with the better-but-smaller mattress. I should go get cash.

But for the moment, I am content to sit here; just myself and the city sounds, and my guitar within an arm's reach.

Lazy Day: Day 7

The adrenaline on which I seem to have been running thus far finally blew today.

I woke up feeling dreadfully nauseous at 3 am, and couldn't shake it enough to get real sleep until about 8. It was, I would bet, a combination of factors--like new water, new body clock, new germs, same old not-enough-sleep. :)

Anyhow, fortunately, today was a entirely blank day. I was not to miss out on any immigrations progress. I stayed in the apartment for some sleep in the morning, and had some trippy dreams. Then I eventually went on a grocery shopping walk for fresh air, milk, bananas, and crackers. Then, lay upon my blanket on the apartment floor and watched a Bones episode (with this internet, it took twice as long) and ate some food. Soon it was dinner time, and then early bedtime prep.
Terribly unfortunately, it is the last night of winter, and everyone is celebrating the coming of spring tonight. I was invited to have pizza with the porter Walter and his family, but best lie low tonight. How sad.

Tomorrow shall be better, though. I hope to get laundry washed and postcards sent. And to enjoy SPRING!

I Really Live Here--Even the Police Say So: Day 6

I was awakened rather, well, abruptly to the sound of my buzzer. I ran down the stairs to prove that I live here, and received my certification of address validation. In my jammies. Then, turned around and laughed at myself with the porter. Good morning, world. :)
I made an egg and toast for beakfast (because I can, because I have groceries). Enjoyed that. Then I suddenly had an entire day free, because it had earlier been blocked off for the police to come validate the address. So I called Mrs. Z, and decided I could easily spare the time to babysit while she got groceries and took a daughter to the doctor. So I hopped on the now-familiar subway and arrived in time for the dregs of an Uno game.
With two Z kids, I watched Thumbelina. Then I was bombarded wth stencilled masterpieces that now adorn my once-lonely, boring apartment wall.
Shortly after the Z parents returned, I headed home, wanting to evade public transport in the dark. I made dinner (pasta, carrots, zapatillo, olive oil, oregano), ate it, washed dishes, and decided I wanted coffee.
So, at 10:00 at night, I headed up Aguero. Got a cafe cortado (mostly espresso-strength coffee with a little frothy milk blended in), and it came with the customary tiny glass of club soda AND a few spoonfuls of vanilla gelato. Mmm. perfect.
Walked home without an issue, and am now headed for much-needed sleep! Chau chau.

Blessings: Day 5

Today was filled to the brim with blessings.

Woke up and prepared for church. Left for church, navigated the subway through my first line transfer. Found the next transfer led to an "interrupted" line. BLESSING: found a friend, don't even know her name, who got diverted as well, heading the same way. Figured out the right bus and stop together. BLESSING: Arrived at the church. BLESSING: Had friends with whom I could sit. Sang and worshipped in Spanish. BLESSING: Marycela invited me to lunch with a family of friends in a villa nearby. Had my first experience in a villa (like Barrio Egipto in Bogota, for those of you who know it). BLESSING: Had a shopping buddy for my first grocery shopping trip. BLESSING: Real food for dinner. BLESSING: Called Mom. BLESSING: Played guitar. BLESSING: Chatted with friends back home.

BLESSING: Sleep.

On My Own: Day 4

This morning I spent with the Zs, and then made my way to the main street in their neck of the woods for shopping. I found what I needed--a low-cost black purse that I really like--and continued to the subway station to get closer into the city. I was getting near desperate for postcards and an adaptor. The plugs here look like this:

/    \       instead of     |     |

Bought it from a street vendor on Florida, seven pesos. Works just fine.

When I got back to my apartment at about two, I had lunch, chatted with sisters, Dad, and boyfriend. Then I napped a much-needed nap. :)

I also had budget figuring to do. Since I have been at the Z's every night so far, I've always had dinner--the major meal--there, or at least with them at McDonald's, like last night. (By the way, I am of the opinion that Argentine McD's meat beats out any US meat. Yep, having everything be organic is a very good thing.) So, I have not really had to concern myself with groceries until now. And now it is concerning, what with a quick view of my fridge and counter.

Approaching dinner time an hour ago, I realized I have no butter. No eggs. No can opener for the chick peas. I don't even have olive oil yet. Goal for tomorrow: GROCERIES. Needless to say, dinner was interesting: frozen peas (warmed up), fresh potato from the produce shop three doors down (microwaved, because the oven looks like it was here before civilization, and doesn't close), and a glass of milk. I am totally okay with that for the moment, but it will have to change. :)

Today as I went about my business, even my landlady checked in on me. I am well taken care of, friends. Her explanation was that I'm the youngest renter she and her sister have ever had, and, well, I completely believe her! How cool to be a record setter, and to have this whole opportunity. I love it.

I think I'll play guitar for a bit, and then tuck in for the night. Buenas noches!

Success: Day 3

Today began, once again, with a return trip from the Z's. This time, however I drove with Mr. Z., who had to go to the pedestrian street Florida in the city center. I tagged along, and then picked up the subway home.

The mission this morning was dual part: first, to start the process of address validation by talking to the police; second, to start the process for obtaining a criminal record for all my heinous activities in my ten-day history in Argentina. The porter drew me a map to the police office I needed for the first document, and from there they directed me to another office for the second document. So, I hopped on the subway and found my way to the right place.

I must here interrupt myself, and say that Argentines have to be some of the sweetest strangers ever. By that, I mean to say that whenever I have approached anyone for help--police/security guards, fellow pedestrians, receptionists/counter workers at businesses--and smiled my hopeless, try-to-see-me-as-cute-and-in-need-of-assistance-please smile, they direct me with a smile of their own (and directions). Works a peach.

Entonces, I went back home to rest my feet. More like my ankle. There was a storm (apparently with hail) predicted for today, so the combination of lots of distance walking and pending storm was a bit painful. I had lunch: yummy crackers and fontina cheese, a freshfreshfresh avocado, a strawberry yogurt (here the yogurt's like the potential offspring of yogurt and jello in texture), and yerba mate. Spanish lesson: it's pronounced jair-bah mah-tay. It's the typical Argentine warm drink, like green tea on steroids. Mega delicioso.

Next, where did I end up? Adivina donde--guess where. The Z's!! There was a meeting of the youth of the church, with whom Mr. and Mrs. Z. work faithfully and compatibly and passionately. What a pleasure to hear their conversations together from the kitchen, while I browsed Facebook. Gotta love Argentine body clocks; they're still here, hanging around and filling every open space with laughter. I should go enjoy that.

Hola to all my friends back home, and back...in places other than home.