Life here is busier than I thought. I brought some books with me, thinking I'd be living like I live in San Francisco and spending time in the evenings in bed reading. Instead, it seems like I'm constantly on the go.
Yesterday I got up late (9:00) and went out for a short walk around my neighborhood. I seem to live right on the edge of the Microcentro (downtown area), which reminds me of Midtown Manhatten (sorry, but I have to compare it to something). But just a few blocks north are some very lovely, quiet, tree-lined streets with art galleries and modern high rise apartments.
So I took a walk around, took some photos and went to pick up my laundry. The total cost for my laundry was 9.50. I gave the woman a 20 peso bill and she asked if I had anything smaller. Apparently people don't have change in Buenos Aires, as I've heard this is a common thing (it's the first time I've experienced it). I didn't have enough to give her the exact change, so she said she owes me 50 centavos and wrote a little note for the next time I go there. It was odd because there were other people in the store and maybe someone could have given her change, but no one offered.
I walked to school and explored a little more - walked through the more central part of town, which was very busy and active (I prefer my neighborhood which is quieter). I ran into Anna on my way to lunch and she invited me to a restaurant someone recommended that is a block from school called Prosciutto. Of course, they had big hams hanging all over the place. We were the first ones there. We both had salads, and I tried linguine with pesto (the pasta was not that good).
After class we had an outing to Recoleta, which is very concheta (concheta is an adjective too). It really is a beautiful place. We visited the cemetary and this time saw Evita's tomb. Of course there were many people there - some having their pictures taken in front of it. Larry wanted to take my picture there, but I declined (I don't understand that custom). At the end of our tour, Larry, Anna, Mike and I split and went to the restaurant in Larry's neighborhood that serves the best empanadas in South America. They were closed. We waited outside until someone came to the door and told us they were to open at 7. We had 40 minutes to kill, so Larry, grand tour guide, took us to a shopping center nearby. This place was gleaming with marble, brass and bright lights. Apparently it used to be some sort of place where people would go to buy livestock. From the upper floors they would look down the central area and choose the cow they wanted.
After dinner (which was delicious, by the way - I had a lentil stew that was amazing) Larry and I went to "Jumbo" a big-box store kind of like Wal-Mart. We hopped in a cab and Larry told the driver we wanted to go to Jumbo, but he didn't understand. Larry then told him it was near the "mosca" (he was trying to say Mosque, but mosca is a fly) - the driver still didn't understand. But what impressed me was that even though he didn't understand, he kept driving in the direction Larry indicated and didn't give up trying to understand. Eventually he got that the "mosca" was the Arabic temple (I forget what the word finally was) and that Larry's pronunciaiton of Jumbo was a little off (he was pronunouncing the "u" like in English (schwa) rather than like in Spanish and the driver thought he was saying "shampoo").
We arrived at Jumbo and I noticed that I smelled like the air freshener in the cab. It was so strong, I was now a walking air freshener. I'm sure I freshened the air when we walked into Jumbo, which was about the size of 3 football fields.
Larry was looking for a big towel, I wasn't looking for anything in particular, but I ended up buying more than he did. His shopping cart must have had a motor though, because every time I stopped to look at something, he disappeared, and it was impossible to find him in this enormous store. Then, after some minutes, I'd see his head heading up the aisle towards me.
The weather is getting colder. Last night a big fog bank rolled in (I felt like I was in S.F.). It is still warmer than San Francisco in the summer, but I think I might actually get to wear some of the winter clothes I brought.
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