Today felt like just a regular old day, but as I started thinking about everything I did today, I did a lot! I guess it was regular in that I'm beginning to return to a sort of regular routine and doing things.
I got up and went to my acupuncture appointment. As usual, I was running late (a 9 a.m. appointment seems REALLY early for me), so I took a cab. The acupuncturist is a block away from my school, but unfortunately we can't seem to get appointments right after my classes. It's ok though, at least I'm familiar with the neighborhood.
Dr. Lermer did the same treatment as last time. I noticed that the machine he puts against my ear is some kind of magnetic therapy. Hmm.... interesting...
He didn't replace the seeds in my ear and told me to continue giving them little massages. When I went to pay him the 50 pesos, he handed back the bill I gave him and asked me to give him a different one. He told me it was a fake bill and showed me this silver stripe that kind of looks like a thin strip of aluminum foil and said it was supposed to be like a dotted line and this one was a completely continuous one. I couldn't believe someone had pawned a fake 50 on me!
I walked home, feeling kind of "off" and hoping I wasn't going to get an attack. I switched to the medicine I got at the German Hospital after one of my tango buddies from San Francisco sent me a list of treatments that are used for meniere's and their tested efficacy. The drug I got from the doctor here is used in Europe but apparently is not available in the US. I figured I would try it since the Europeans think it is better than meclizine. I took one pill yesterday and had a fine day. I wasn't sure about today.
But I got home ok. I had a cup of tea and then laid down to take a nap. Someone was coming at 1:30 to clean my air-conditioner and I wanted to be out of here by then so I decided to just rest. I didn't actually sleep, but lying down did help me to get over the feeling that something might happen.
I checked my stash of small bills that I was putting away for my private tango classes. Marcelo charges 75 pesos per hour and since change is hard to come by and I can't expect him to change a 100 peso note, I stash 50's, 20's and 5's, every time I get them (I am one of the reasons no one has change). According to what Dr. Lermer showed me as a fake bill, I found one other among my bill stash, meaning I had 100 pesos in fake bills.
I left around 1 and headed back to the restaurant where I had my attack last week. I thought I'd try again. But first I decided to change more dollars since the dollar is so strong against the peso (it is now 3.31 pesos to the dollar, and when I first got here it was 3.03). On my way I was thinking of where I could get rid of these fake 50's. Someone had obviously slipped them to me, and unsuspecting foreigner, and maybe most people don't care - I mean what is money anyway?
I went to the money changer and after she finished giving my bills, I showed her one of the fake 50's and asked her if it was fake - I thought I'd get a professional opinion. She said, no, it is not fake, why? I told her someone had told me it was fake and showed her to solid silver line. She said it was just that someone had repaired it and lifted the silver strip up to show a dotted line underneath. She also told me that the watermark was how you could tell if a bill was fake. Turns out Dr. Lermer was full of shit.
Funny thing though was that she thought I was asking about a 50 that she just gave me and she took it and gave me a different one. I think she thought I was accusing her of giving me a fake bill. Now I only had one suspect 50, but I was assured that it was fine.
The restaurant is called La Cholita, and is a long space that has kind of rustic furniture, newsprint table covers with a basket of crayons on each table. It is a parilla, so they do meat, but they also have salads and grilled veggies. The people who work there are all young, hip, good-looking and wear black. It's a laid-back kind of place. I like it.
It is right up the street from my gym, so I thought I'd eat a small lunch and then go to the gym. Well, I ended up having quite a large lunch and didn't want to work out right afterwards, so I walked down Santa Fe, thinking I'd do some window shopping.
Last year when I lived further down on Arenales, I walked down Santa Fe regularly, but now I am living further up and walk down a different part of Santa Fe. I realized I missed the part I got to know last year.
I had only walked one block but had passed lots of tempting windows, when I was at Montevideo, which is where Club Creativo is. This is where I got my hair cut. I called yesterday wanting to make an appointment for today, and it sounded like they were having a party. I was told to call back today.
Well, instead, I thought I would just walk in.
I think in Argentine Spanish they have a different word for appointment. I've been using the word "cita", which people seem to understand, but I keep hearing "turno". I need to ask one of my conversation partners what is correct and how to say I want to make an appointment, or I have an appointment.
The girl at the desk, looking very fashionable in her bob and sporty glasses seemed confused when I said I didn't have an appointment 'cita'. She didn't ask if I had been there before or if I had a preference who cut my hair. She just told me to have a seat.
Then, another waif-like young woman wearing trendy clothes and sporting a long shag haircut took me in the back to wash my hair. She brought me out and handed me over to a guy to cut my hair.
The stern guy who cut my hair last time was not there. He gave me a really good haircut, but I was kind of uncomfortable in his chair because he didn't make conversation. Well, this guy didn't make conversation either.
In my worst Spanish, I tried to give him some guidelines on what I wanted - long in back, short on sides, long on top and this tuft of hair in front, I have no idea. It was not nearly as fluent as what I just wrote, but he got the idea. Amazing what hand gestures can do.
I got a good haircut and again am amazed at the precision these guys have with scissors. He was snipping away like Edward Scissorshand. The barbers I've been going to in San Francsico cut hair like they are using a chainsaw in comparison (I thought I'd switch from expensive salons to cheap barbers since my hair was so short).
I left there and was tempted to cross the street to Freddo, but instead went to the gym and found that the gym in the afternoon is nice and quiet. I seemed to have gotten there just as the lunch crowd was leaving (2:30).
Finally, after the gym, I came home, expecting to find everything back in order and the apartment cleaned up (because they were sending Norma to clean up the air-con guy's mess). Instead I walked in to find my apartment upside down and the air-con guy along with one of the guys from the rental office still here. Apparently, they got off to a late start.
I thought about going out again, but instead sat down and watched some CNN. It is like junk food. Totally devoid of anything nutritional, but addictive and very bad for you.
When they left, Norma came a knocking. By then I was on my computer sending some e-mails. She told me Andres had called and told her she had to come over and she told Andres that he was not her boss. Norma likes to talk. It was a good thing I was on the computer because I pretended I was working. Still, even though she said she would not bother me, she told me some stories.
It is very funny that she keeps talking about popcorn. After she brought home the chocolate bar that I bought in the duty free shop on Buquebus, her husband (she claims) asked if I knew how to make popcorn and said he would make a batch of popcorn and bring it over (what the %$@!@$!?) I find this story funny because this is the 2nd time I've heard it, so apparently it is important. Well, maybe not.
Another thing Norma told me was fascinating. It was a story and kind of went like this.
(Imagine voice of Norma in Spanish)
My husband works a lot. He works Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. He works Sunday until mid-day. He works in Constitution and Balvanera and he fixed Ralf's roof. I told Ralf I need the month of February off. I am not coming in February. My husband works every day, but in February we don't work. So I told Ralf that I would not be here in February. (she then points to the painting behind my bed and says) - last February I did not work because we took off. My husband works all the time, but February we did not work, so I did not come here. One tourist (female) was staying here and she went crazy. Look, you can see where she damaged the walls, and the ceiling (and Norma pointed and you could see scars on the walls and the ceiling) and she said someone got in and was trying to attack her, but I think she took some drugs or something, and she broke the shades (and she showed me tears in teh shades) and the window and glass fell down out from the window (and all of this time she is sweeping and I am sitting in front of my computer with a half-written e-mail because she said she was not going to bother me). She said the police came and everything. I just said "guau" (translation - wow). I didn't know what else to say. I didn't know why she was telling me this story, interesting as it was.
After she left, things were kind of routine. I watched Patito Feo, some news, ate dinner and watched Ellen. I love being able to see Ellen re-runs (from her sit-com, not her talk show). It really was a funny show before it got run off the air.
So, what seemed like just another ordinary day was not really all that ordinary, but I am guessing that any one of anyone's days, when examined would turn out to be not so ordinary after all. Maybe if everyone was blogging about their lives they'd see that it is a series of twists and turns and you never know where it is going.
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