Yesterday I began to fall in love with Argentina. Today I realized i still had so much to learn about this beautifully fickle country.
Yesterday was the first day I saw the sun in Argentina. The sky was blue, really blue, with bright shots of sun streaming down on my heat-thirsty skin. The past 3 weeks have been grey, just grey, without an ounce of color; it was a world of black and white for me; a world of black disappointment and white hope. But yesterday, Argentina shone like a rainbow; red, orange, yellow, green, blue and violet all exploded before my eyes; such intense colors I almost looked away. But this is falling in love; intense, violent and without reason. There wasn't one exact event or encounter that made me fall in love; one color that stole by heart; it was just that finally I could see the color. And it was too beautiful not to love.
Today, I discovered I didn't know my lover as well at I thought. Today, I discovered high class hookers look for customers in the cafe close to my program's office (a great story for the grandkids some day.) I discovered there are 5 different ways to say jacket in spanish, none of which is chaqueta the word I learned when I was 15. I discovered cheesy pick-up lines while universal do not always translate even when they are said in English.
In a way, this scared me. I have already fallen in love and now i am finding i don't even know the country i have fallen in love with. I am afraid my love for this country also gives me the power to hate it. When I feel something as good as love, I am terrified of losing that feeling and replacing it with the dark void of hate.
P.S. No mom and grandmom I have not fallen in love with an argentine and I still promise not to bring anybody home!
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quick note about the prostitutes in the cafe:
Everyday I passed this cool looking cafe called Cafe New Oreleans. Finally today I decided to go get a cofee with my friend at this cafe. When we got there and there were no empty tables. Almost all the tables were filled with make-up covered, push-up bra wearing women giving us some dirty looks. The bar was filled with business suit wearing men. But of course I didn't catch on to this right away. We found one abandoned table and sat down wondering why we were still getting these looks. Then the waiter came over and asked us if we were comfortable. Finally having realized what the heck was going one, I answered honestly no not really. He said it was fine if we stayed and that it was no problem. Figuring this way the only time we were probably going to have the chance to sit among high-class hookers and being too embarrassed to leave, we stayed and ordered coffee that was not worth its 10 peso price tag. At the end of our coffee the waiter passed us a note that said in spanish he loved/ was enchanted with the two of us. That was creepy enough for us so we left making sure we didn't make any eye contact. Can't wait to tell the grand kids about that one.
one word-amazing! great story. a scene from a movie.
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