Tonight is my last night in Buenos Aires, Argentina. I fly out first thing in the morning to my next stop, Sao Paulo, Brazil. It's slowly starting to sink in that I'm leaving the first country I've really been to (I don't count Canada and Tijuana, Mexico), the place that has been my "home away from home" for the past four plus weeks.
This little block, this hotel, this room, it has all been my environment during a time that I felt vulnerable and isolated, but also challenged me and brought a new level of "aliveness". Buenos Aires has it's faults, don't get me wrong, but I've come to love this place. With it's tall buildings, it's quaint little shops, and it's people. Yes, even the mostly rude and snobby people will stick out in my memory. They weren't all stuck up. The waiters at La Cha Cra (the "mafia restaurant") were nothing but warm, welcoming and genuinely grateful that we would eat at their establishment six different times over the past month (we probably ate a whole cow between Sidney and I). The young man at the corner store that we would buy our water, snacks, or juice from, sometimes at six in the morning after a night of more than a few alcoholic beverages, he always had a "Hola" for us. We had to say goodbye to them, plus the hotel night bartender, Boris, a native from Russia, who by the end of the month would know to bring out "dos empanadas and dos cervezas" whenever we sat down at a table in the hotel restaurant .
I've never lived in a large city, but I can see now that the little block that you cohabit becomes your life. I would wake up in the morning and look out my second story hotel room window and see the asian man that ran a small store across. I saw the girl that would wave traffic into a pay parking lot. We would get out and walk down to the corner and comment on another shop owner that always sat out in front of his store front, or if he wasn't inside, he would be down at the internet cafe, giving the kid at the cashier grief. We saw the newstand at the corner every day. We'd see the same homeless guy sitting on the corner. Sometimes he'd just watch you walk by, other times he'd harass you, asking for money in Spanish. On a different level, there is Leandro, our connect with the other company we are working with in South America. Anything we needed, he got for us, including afternoon chocolate runs. The kid (he was 25) was great, a lively, funny and helpful kid on any level, American or Argentinian. He even took us out with his lovely girlfriend, which was a night that I'll probably remember the most as far as our weekend nights go. He'll be missed and I wish him the best of luck.
I'll miss all of this, for it was my life for a month, one of the most exciting months of my life. For a few days, when I was asked if I wanted to go on this trip back in late February, I actually had to say "I have to think about it," now I'm so grateful I made this trip. It's an experience I'll never forget.
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