The kick-off...the first day in Buneos Aires

Four days into the trip, or is it three? To be honest, Monday and Tuesday kind of blend into each other. It's been a long four days, but short as well. My initial reaction to everything was being overwhelmed by what I was seeing around me; the smells, the sights, the sounds. Being fairly sheltered to anything foreign, it was kind of a culture shock all the way around. Today has been easier though, as I'm starting to get more comfortable in my new surroundings.
Here is a little rundown of the first day....

The plane ride from Houston to Buenos Aires was an interesting from the get-go. I was somewhat expecting the plane to fall out of the sky sometime during the middle of the night. It had problems with getting the left engine started and/or some electrical problems. I'm sure it wasn't all that serious, or they wouldn't have flown out, but still when the captain comes on and talks about not being able the start the engine or my favorite, "Ooops, that wasn't supposed to happen," when the lights in the cabin go out, it didn't make me feel too comfortable. I didn't sleep much the whole way, maybe a couple hours. Even then, I'd be waken up often by turbulence.

Flying into Buenos Aires was interesting. I was lucky enough that no one in the row next to me had people in it, so I commandeered a seat next to the window. I originally was in the middle seat in the middle row. I got to see the sun come up and it would light up peaks of the Andes sticking through a thick mat of clouds below us. Those things are tall. I couldn't see much of them except what was making it's way through the obscured view. Soon we were flying over wetlands and farms. A big river with large riparian areas were a dominate feature as well. As we approached our final descent, the plane seemed to be going super slow and flashbacks of the takeoff. I'm sure a said a few "Hail Mary's" while the big bird made a few circles around the airport. We eventually got on the ground.

We had to go through a few hoops when we landed. We were flying with a lot of our equipment, including 24 company laptops (not including our own personal ones), so we were expecting problems getting through customs. First, they make you go through a long line and pay a landing fee. It costs Americans 131 dollars to land. Then we went to another line, where we had to show our passports and hand in some paperwork that they make you fill out on the flight in. When we got to baggage claim area, we were greeted by more people, this time they were checking our baggage claims tickets, making sure the luggage matched up to the people claiming it. They were persistent about things being accounted for. Finally, we had to go through line for claims. We had two big cases of laptops (actually we had to spread them out amongst the four of us, which made our packing lists wrong, which scared us even more) which of course captured their attention immediately. You could tell the lady that was behind the counter wasn't happy, nor happy to see us, you could hear her sigh when we came up. She started drilling us about what we had with us. She was annoyed when we tried speaking to her in English. It seemed that we were in for a long drawn out episode, when one of the guys with us, Sidney, started speaking to her in Spanish. We showed her the receipts, letters and packing lists (which were totally wrong by this time) about our cargo and what we would be using it for. She let us through without even making us open any of our other luggage.

We were greeted on the other side of customs by our Argentine contacts, Germain and an older gentleman whose name I forget. They help us with our bags, get us a shuttle. By the the time we get our luggage and the seven of us (five in my party, plus the two of them) into the shuttle, it's crammed tight. Which is why I suppose I shouldn't have been worried about crashing, because we were so lodged in there, it wouldn't have mattered. Or if the impact didn't do me in, the avalanche of luggage would have done me in. And I realized the chances of crashing were more realistic after the first mile and I said three "Oh shits" in that distnace. No one drives in their lanes. Lanes mean nothing. If you pass someone, get in front of them soon as possible, it doesn't matter if you take their front bumper off. Basically, it is utter chaos from one light to the next. I was white knuckling my laptop bag the whole time as I was sandwiched between the older Argentine gentleman and Chris, my lead at work. I saw stuff that would get you shot in a fit of road rage back in the states.

The airport is quite a ways from the main city. So I got to see a small chunk of the city (this place is pretty big as far as the space it takes up). Some areas are run down and kind of what you would expect from a third world country. Others are modern looking, like anything you would find in an American city. After awhile, we turn down this narrow street. It's one way, and should only be one lane, but they make it two. We pull to the side, as much as we can, and they tell us, don't try to cross the street until the traffic stops. Not like I was going to try to play frogger across this street, because people act like they would speed up to hit you then flip you off as they drove away.

The hotel is rather nice, even for U.S. standards. The manager meets us at the door, which I think our local contacts had something to do with. Bell boys are risking their own lives to retrieve our bags from the shuttle across the street as the drivers reenact the Frogger video game yet again. We get checked in and I hightailed it upstairs quickly to change out of the day old clothes and throw some deodorant to cover up my own funkiness that I'm starting to emit. I have to be back down in the lobby to check out our work facilities, which is a conference room located at the hotel. Wanting a shower and a little rest after sleeping a couple hours in the past 26 hours or so, we go up to a blocked off part of the restaurant upstairs and set down for lunch.

By this time, there are more Argentine contacts with us, five total. They are all very nice people and very happy to talk to us and want to learn more about us. When the server comes to take our order, they quickly order for us, which is steak. I have no problem with this. Then the food starts coming. Cheeses, crackers, vegetables, you name it, it's coming. Then they start ordering myself and Sidney, a coworker of mine, beer after we told them that we like beer, which they asked. It's big bottles of Quilmes, a local beer and Guiness Stout. I'm already barely hanging on from the lack of sleep, but now they are taking my glass and filling it with Guiness and telling me to, "Drink!" By the time the steak gets here, I'm buzzed off of two beers, full and ready to sleep in my plate. The steak is excellent though, tender, full of flavor, and just outright delicious. I finally have to tell them, "No cerveza" as they go to fill my glass up a third time.

They then insist on desert, and suggest Douche De Leche (why not?....inside joke between Steve and I), a caramel like thing, which Argentina takes credit for creating. They put it over egg custard, and again, its freaking great.


I somehow get wrangled into a trip to Staples for some office supplies we might need. Germain is taking us there. He is younger than the rest of them, I'm guessing early thirties. He somewhat reminds me of my Mexican friend from Denver, Alx. Built somewhat the same and has the same personality. He has also lived in Los Angles, so he speaks fairly decent English. At first I thought we were driving there, which I guess I felt the need for another adrenaline rush. As we take a left upon exiting the hotel, I realize we hoofing it. The itty bitty sidewalks are full of people, all of them are in a hurry to get somewhere, and here are us Americans, taking a slow stroll, taking in the sights. It caused us to get some nasty looks. Traffic is insane, you want to make sure you don't cross the street before the light turns red, because I swear they speed up and lay on the horn when they see you do it.

We turn to go down like a large mall like thing. There are stores and shops on both sides of a big sidewalk (no roads), with people in the middle selling all kinds of things. It must be rather obvious we are Americans, because people standing outside of their stores start yelling at us to come in like carnies and the fair. People are handing you flyers and things. They try to get you to come into their bar (which I heard is a scam), strip club girls are trying to get you to come with them, it's kind of intimidating, but funny all at the same time.

After the trip, Germain give me some advice before leaving us to go to our hotel rooms. Keep your wallet in your front pocket, don't look lost, never cross the street until all the cars have stopped, even then, do it carefully, and don't be afraid to say "fuck you" to anyone that is pestering you on the street. Sound advice....

After getting back, I crawled back into my room, took a warm shower, found a TV station with an English and feel asleep before I could even lay the controller down.