Buenos Aires, September 3 2018
Argentina, in a weird way, already feels like home. The Spanish spoken in Buenos Aires is the most beautiful Spanish I’ve ever heard. It’s like the people are singing to each other. It’s nice to be somewhere I can finally work on a foreign language. And what better place than Argentina?
Most days here I get a slow start. It’s 4pm and I’ve yet to really get out of bed. Happy in his hollow, far rom home. To hide, drink wine, eat, write, and watch subtitled movies in Spanish instead of going outside. Speaking Spanish is coming slow as ever.
There are moments when traveling I have to ask myself, “what am I doing??? Tina, you are squatting at a faucet coming out of the wall next to the toilet just to ‘shower.'” I’m not able to stick to any kind of routine. The second problem is my fault. The first is just… travel. As you do.
Argentina is the longest I’ve been somewhere since Bali (before that, New Zealand.) Even in New Zealand I moved around a lot. It’s been a while since I felt rooted at Skotel. That was six months ago, in fact. No wonder I’ve been feeling homesick – for a home with a closet and bed of my own, not a particular place or group of people.
Salta, September 30 2018
Mendoza was too much fun to write. Now I’m at this weird hostel in Salta. Like, really wired. Like…not weird and interesting and cool like Merbabu, but weird and not fun. Uncomfortable. Like we’ve been lied to. Like we’re under a mask.
Jordan and I had a picnic in the park while we were in Mendoza. We had salami (of course) bread, queso azul and we wanted to try the national drink of fernet and coke. We got to talking about how much we both miss New Zealand and we decided to go home so we can go to Australia next year until Jordan gets into Grad school. Good idea? Bad idea? Will we end up moving anyway and starting life? Id like an income.
It’s like a giant puzzle getting home. Latin America has been one hot, dirty headache. Even Java felt more developed. I wonder what India is like then. I imagine peeing on a train (moving) over the rail road tracks. I had intended to write real reflections on Argentina yesterday, but then the weirdness of the 2 hour bus delay threw me.
Jordan and I took a 2 hour Tango class yesterday. We were walking through the town and saw a poster for the class at a cultural center. We’re about to leave Argentina, so we should definitely do this or regret it forever! The dancing was really fun. I miss dancing. That’s somethingId like to do again when I have a home.
Salta, October 2 2018
I’ve been laughing a lot lately. Is it because I’m more care fee? Last week of travels…. fuck it! There’s so much I’ve picked up along the way and so much I’ve let go of. Always have toilet paper. Let go of not being able to store the backpacks.
This last week in hostels has been really great. Doing day activities with people has been fabulous. Yes, English speakers are better to hang out with. If we stayed in Latin America long enough, I know we’d start speaking Spanish instead of English with new people. For now, English is best.
It makes me think, the world is so big and there is so much life and randomness within it. The world may seem small on a digital screen – but time to get somewhere is still long and the bags are still heavy. The opportunities, the chances of happenings and meeting someone are multiple….like by a billion.
I have to write on my impressions of Argentina and it’s people and my experiences, but hostel life is at the forefront right now.
Salta Omnibus Terminal, October 3 2018
On the bus waiting to leave, I like watching all the families waiting for the bus to leave. Once the bus begins to pull away it’s like we’re the star float of a parade, or a transport boat sailing out of New York circa 1920 with everyone waiving goodbye to their families. We we left Mendoza I watched two families wait two hours while we were in delay just to wave goodbye. The families mixed on and off the bus to be with their families while they waited.
Language lesson: Butaca means comfy seat for one.