In my last jibber jabber I briefly touched upon people and their effect on traveling. In the last few days, I've come across many such wonderful creatures and a few annoying ones thrown in for good measure, ya know, to make you appreciate the good apples.
A few days ago I was reading an entry in my Lonely Planet for the Top 10 Things to do in Buenos Aires. By the time I got to it, I've done all but one thing on the list. Meaty dinners, tango, dulce de leche were par for the course but as the highlight the author wrote about the locals. And now a week in, I couldn't agree more. I've come across so many people that made my minute, moment or the entire day. Either they were interested as to why I spoke Spanish, wanted to be helpful or were just disgusted with my tango. Each one had a purpose and here are a few of my favorite tidbits:
The lady at Teatro Colon didn't want to let me go on the English tour since I spoke Spanish. I much rather would have preferred the Spanish one but the English was about to start and I wanted to get going. I should have listened to her. Alejandro, the guide, was so painfully rehearsed I wonder if she knew what she was talking about and I should have gone to the Spanish version.
The old man at Bar Los Galgos was so puzzled why a gringa was in his bar, he didn't know what to do with me. So he just smiled in amusement and brought my tea with extra care.
The waiter who wanted to yell at me so badly for not reading the fine print at El Cuartito. We paid "take out" prices but sat down. It's hard to blame ignorance since the "fine" print was in huge letters in 5 different places but I really didn't see it. Instead of getting mad, he chucked it up to me being foreign and offered me the wifi password. He knows how we roll.
The complete douche bag of a driver who pulled away from the stop on purpose, damn well knowing there were people running to get to his bus. He didn't make me smile in the hour and a half I was on his bus but reminded me that there is always one of those around, high on power and assholeness but low on everything else.
The sushi waiter asking me if i was American. No shocker here, right? He heard me in a lively discussion so I assumed it was because of my Spanish. Oh no. I ordered miso soup and apparently only Americans do that. Really? Why is it on the menu, Mr. Japanese Resto?
Sebastian, Federico's friend who made me feel like an old buddy. Funny, engaging and very kind, I only hope I can repay the favor when he visits Cali. Pretty hair is not guaranteed.
Silvia, Sebastian's friend, the ONLY porteña who understood the struggle of a normal Spanish speaker. It's not asher, plasha, masho, and cashe. Instead, it's ayer, playa, mayo and calle. Thank you Silvia, for being an anthropologist and knowing how this shit works!
Laura, another one of Federico's friends who pampered me at her salon with a massage and a facial. She didn't have to but she did, and it was very obvious when someone loves their job and is truly there to brighten your day.
The older lady giving me a facial. "WHAT is wrong with your skin???" she wondered aloud. "I know it's bad," I say. She let out a loud "YEP!!!" just to make her point clear. I got it. Cool. Thanks.
The family sitting next to me as I type this, laughing as I take a picture of my gorgeous Havana Latte de Chocolate con Avellana. I sheepishly smile at them, as to say "Sorry for being such a tourist." They laugh some more and say "We did the same thing when we got ours. Isn't it beautiful?"
And then there are the men. Manuel, the 29 year old that wanted nothing more than to be helpful. Only when an Argentinian man wants to be SO helpful, you start to wonder what he is after. After all, the stereotype of American girls being easy has come up several times this week, and the signs "Americans, get out!" are plastered all over the centro.
The 20 something guy who wanted to teach me how to tango but being kind of lame himself, just couldn't. At the end, all he wanted was to get rid of me. "Hmm, the beginner's class is over there." Thanks. Why didn't you tell me that a while ago?
The obnoxiously excited guys at the club from Cupertino were SO stoked I was American. If this is so amazing, why don't you just stay in Cupertino? There are plenty of girls like me there. Whatevs, I got free water out of them.
The two oldest gentlemen who were tango pros made the same mistake in one night, they asked me to dance. What a regret it was for both of them. I said to one: "If you push me, I'll follow and dance. His response: "If I push you, you'll fall." Classic. It was a bummer for him but as for me, I got a great lesson, a huge smile on my face and a bit of a bruised ego. "Pfff, California..." were his parting words. Thank you, sir.
Juan, La Bombera stadium guide couldn't have been more impressed with my Spanish and I even had a movie recommendation for him. Yup, this girl saw a documentary at the International Latino Film Festival about Diego Maradona years ago and is now in Buenos Aires at a soccer stadium recommending it to a guide. This rocks. Speaking of the stadium, there were two young guys who excitedly PROMISED me that Argentina will do what USA couldn't. They were right and the day after, Argentina beat Belgium 1:0.
My favorite to date was a man in his 70s walking with a cane as I was trying to fit Teatro Colon in my camera's viewfinder. There were many cars around and I just couldn't get it right. "Can I give you a suggestion? Go on that side of the street, the angle is much better."
Thank you, dude. And to all whose paths I've crossed in the last week. It's been such a pleasure living in a big city, being a tourist, feeling like a local and even making some friends along the way. The locals are kind and if anything, brutally honest. I appreciate that.
Tomorrow I head to Tigre. If the weather cooperates, it'll be a nice getaway to a small town away from the hustle and bustle of my Argentinian home. Buenos Aires.
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