El Subte

The subway here is pretty easy to figure out. There are 5 lines and they all so far have been able to take me close to wherever I want to go. They all cross near the Obelisk and I can change lines there, or if I'm lucky, one line will take me where I want to go. When el subte doesn't work, I take a taxi or walk. Buses are beyond my level of ability at this point.

Today I took the subte because even though I got up early, 8:30, I fiddled around with my computer, then had to take some clothes to the laundry, and decided I was going to sit in a cafe for breakfast (cafe con leche and medialunas or croissants) and do my homework for Fernanda (even though I wasn't sure what it was). I knew we had to write something, but I forgot, now that I remember I'm going to write it here - we have to write something about the firm hand of the law - mano dura - why, I don't know... It was reassigned because none of us did it. I said I couldn't do it because I didn't have electricity. For some people here, that could have been a valid excuse this weekend.

Anyway, when I sat down in the cafe, the waiter put an English language newspaper on my table. Now, how do they know simply by hearing me say, "cafe con leche y dos medialunas" that I am an English speaker! I remember when I was in Nicaragua 25 years ago a woman thought I was from Cuba, and I hardly spoke any Spanish then! Now I had the choice of doing this exercise on the conditional that I had dog-eared and thought was for Marcela tomorrow, or read about how Hillary Clinton is surging ahead in the polls (I prefer Barak Obama). I thought maybe I could find something in the newspaper about the gas shortage, so I opted for reading in English.

Well, there was nothing in the paper of interest, and it seemed that a lot of the news was about things happening outside of the country. Do people who speak English not care about what is happening in Buenos Aires or Argentina? I want the same news that Argentines get but only in English. Well, actually I don't want English news, but the waiter put it in front of me. Next time if he does that, I'll have to tell him I prefer Spanish. That is, if I go back to that cafe, which I might because I liked it. Actually, I like all of the cafes and all of the restaurants I've been to. So many of them have a very 50's/60's feel to them - kind of like diners, but often with waiters insted of waitresses with teased hair and a cigarette hanging out of their mouths who call you "hon", these waiters are like professional waiters that you might find in a restaurant in Little Italy or something like that. Boy, I am so off track here it's not even funny.

So, because I took my time getting my butt in gear this morning, I ended up having to take the subte to school. I like to walk to school in the morning because it's good exercise and gives me permission to have a steak and ice cream later in the day. But this morning, if I wanted to have time to eat lunch before class, I had to take the subte.

I walked to San Martin station, which is about 4 blocks from here. I walked past Palacio San Martin, which I have posted a picture of - it is a huge palace. Then I crossed through Plaza San Martin, avoided the dog poop, and boarded the train.

Hernan is here ... to be continued...

Well, it's 11:06 next day. Hernan just left. We had a great time last night. We went to my local video shop and rented a DVD called "The long night of Mr. Lazarescu" or something like that. It was a very odd Hungarian film. It seemed like it went on forever. Basically it was a "comedy" about a guy who was an alcoholic but also had some kind of cancer and was throwing up blood. I think it was maybe a "funny" look at socialized medicine or something. When it was finally over, I collapsed in bed. I don't think I've ever been as tired as I was last night.

Hernan came over and we went to the video shop and chose a film. I just had to give them my name and address and pay and then they were going to deliver the film to ensure that my address was what I gave them. In the meantime we made dinner and opened a bottle of wine. The dinner looked great, spinach pasta with a sauce with tomato, basil, garlic and mushrooms, and a salad with red peppers and mushrooms. As soon as we sat down Hernan said, "when we begin eating they are going to deliver the film". Sure enough, I sat down, put my fork in my pasta and the doorbell rang. But we finished eating and then put the film in. In a lot of ways it was the most fun I've had so far. I love to cook and it was really fun cooking in this apartment for Hernan. It felt like we were playing house.

Now, back to the subte, because I have to get ready to go to school...

I took the train from Plaza San Martin and then had to change lines at Carlos Pelligrini. From there, I walked underground through the transfer point to another line - even though there are only 5 - A, B, C, D and E, I don't know which one I was on and which one I transferred to. As I got to the transfer line, there was a band playing music in the station and a small crowd had gathered. I thought of staying and watching them a little because they were very good, but decided to keep moving.

Just as I went down the stairs to my train, a rush of people came flowing up the stairs. I had just missed a train it seemed. So I stood on the platform with a few people and waited. And waited. And waited. And more and more people came. The platform started to fill up. And we waited. It was now becoming so full that people had to tap each other on the shoulder to be able to get by. I was glad I had positioned myself back against the wall. People were walking in front of me to get by. An entire medical emergency team arrived, and more and more people stood on the platform. It was really hot. I started thinking that maybe I was going to faint because I was so warm but because it was so crowded I couldn't take off my jacket. At least there was a medical emergency team there, I thought.

Finally, the train arrived. People patiently got on. To my surprise, everyone fit. It was crowded, but not like what I used to have to deal with in Tokyo. No one was pushing, no one was sleeping on my shoulder or trying to cop a feel. It was a very civilized experience. As we pulled up to Callao station, a man next to me asked me which side the doors were going to open. I said I thought the side we were on. I was wrong. He had to push his way to the other doors to get out on time. Woops! I told a woman standing there with a baby that I was not from here.

I was hoping that I remembered correctly that at Pasteur station, where I was going to get off, the doors were going to open on the side I was on. I was wrong. The platform appeared on the other side of the train. I began to nudge my way towards the opposite door. As the train stopped and the doors opened people began to get off and I decidedly made my way out of the door, not pushing, but walking firmly. Phew!

As I walked on the platform towards the exit, I thought how different this was from Japan where people pushed often it seemed, for no reason, especially the old ladies, who I began to fear every time I saw them. But here, everyone was very respectful, even though it was crowded. If they needed to get by, they would gently touch someone on the back and move them, rather than push.

Then, suddenly I felt someone pushing me from behind as I neared the escalator. The pushing had this frantic feel to it. I thought maybe someone was having a panic attack. I moved out of the way and an older woman pushed her arm through the crowd and tapped this younger guy on the shoulder. "Hey you! Why did you push me?!!!", she shouted. "I didn't push you.", "Yes, back there, you pushed me".

I ended up on the escalator next to this guy. I remembered him from 9 de Julio station. He was standing in front of me before the crowds filled the platform.

I turned to him and said, "Well, she just pushed me.", thinking how ironic it was that she yelled at him for pushing her, when she had to push her way through the crowd to tell him off.

It felt so good to get up on the street and breath fresh cool air. The scene I had just witnessed kept me smiling for at least the next hour.

Ah, La Argentina!