Argentina wants me to SIT DOWN

We arrived in Buenos Aires two nights ago in a whirlwind of humidity and hubbub, found our way to our hostel by bus and spent the evening in a nearby plaza eating and watching a standard tourist tango show. Afterwards, we happened upon this fantastic flamenco performance in a nearby bar and then wandered back to fall asleep in our incredibly comfy hostel bed. The hostel is called the Art Factory and every room is painted by a local artist. It´s beautiful and funky and full of fantastic people, so I am a fan already.

However.

Yesterday morning cj and i set out to find a verduleria where we could buy some vegetables and start cooking some of our meals. As I think I mentioned before, Argentinians don´t seem to be too big on vegetables...lots of beef, ham, cheese and bread. So we´re wandering around looking skyward, and I fell into a hole in the sidewalk and...sprained my OTHER ANKLE. No joke. NO FREAKING JOKE. My right ankle is finally a-ok and now my left ankle has a purple goose egg on it. Alas...Plus this sweet old man saw me fall and told cj very sternly to take me to the Farmacia and then take me home to rest. Everybody here has been so kind and helpful. We actually went on to the store and spent the day wandering around Almagro and Recoleta, two lovely neighborhoods. Cj managed to find an american sports bar so he could watch the Seahawks game which was actually a fantastic game but hilarious to be in a sports bar with a bunch of American ex-pats and pilots with everyone screaming about football. I chatted with the bartender about beer and he gave me ice for my ankle. We met a student from U Texas who is here studying medical isotopes because apparently Argentina is the only place where they have figured out (or paid out for) non-enriched uranium which is much safer...interesting guy. We left there and had an incredible meal of local food - locro (the same stew we had in the south) and humitas, which is corn and cheese and peppers wrapped in a corn husk...like a super moist, savory tamale. Yum!!

By this time my ankle was killing me so we got a support brace at the pharmacy and cabbed it back to the hostel where we spent the evening on the rooftop terrace talking and drinking with some of the folks staying here. Of note, we met a lovely, open, creative guy named Andreas from Copenhagen and a self-employed artist/architect from Brazil named Harold. I love hearing how everyone describes themselves and tries to share parts of who they are again and again in these places. It´s such a fun environment, hostelling, because people are just open to engaging and making relationships that may last a night, a week, or a long time. It seems to work because everyone is a bit uncomfortable and can´t fall back on what feels safe and routine like we all do at home. Anyway, we ended up looking up music videos from each of our hometowns until about 3am, when the folks who work the hostel bar invited us to a party down the road at a place called Le Bar. I was definitely done for the evening, but CJ and Andreas went out and it sounds like they skipped the whole dancing/bar part and talked about love and politics until Cj wandered in around 5am. Oh Buenos Aires, you do love the nightlife.

Today Harold gave me anti-inflammatory cream for my ankle which he just happened to have on hand from when he was punched in the nose in Montevideo on New Years Eve. Yup.


Today we wandered around the famous San Telmo sunday market of crafts and antiquities. I think it would not have been so much fun (really every 10th booth has the same stuff...) except we went with Harold and he was like the antiques paparazzi, shooting everything from different angles and spotting all of the interesting collections of things like shoehorns and keys and huge knives. I thought of my dad the whole time and cj kept saying, ¨your dad would like that! Let´s get him that game! Let´s get him that map!¨It was pretty sweet. We had a delicious meal of antipasti or ¨picada¨in a shady restaurant and are now back in the hostel napping. Well, CJ is napping. I cannot nap in a bed. On a bus, sure. But in bed I get restless. I love you guys.