Losing track of time

Friday

Having been homeless for so long and having slept two whole nights in my new flat, I decided it was well past time to decorate my room. 

Mission 1: get blu-tac. 

This seemingly simple task turned out to be a cultural revelation; blu-tac is NOT global. It doesn't exist here! I had a little bit left on the back of one of my postcards and Andres (flatmate) was fascinated. And rightly so! This is a substance that can be stuck and un-stuck (pretty much) as many times as you might wish! It's wonderful! 

So mission 1 was a failure and I had to resort to sellotape. The kind that's already peeling now after 4 days on the wall but thankfully, doesn't take the paint. It's not that sticky really. I could probably peel it off the photos without damaging the paper! But never mind. The important thing is that I have a map up by my bed, photos on the wall, and a motivational wardrobe. Now it's home. 

Andres works from home 3 days a week, and unfortunately they're the same 3 days that I currently have nothing to do for. So I've resolved to find myself a project; some work would be good, or some kind of placement in which I could use my languages. I've emailed a local translation company as a start. There's also a few language schools dotted about which would probably be delighted to have a native English speaker. We'll see. 

In the evening, Leandro dropped for a drink before we headed off to la fiesta de luna llena - the full moon party. Held in los bosques de palermo between the observatory and a lake, it was still pretty central. But that doesn't mean anything! It was already pretty busy when we arrived; a fire had been lit and the sound of drumming drifted through the air. We met with the rest of Leandro's friends and collected into a group to wait for some others to join.

The atmosphere was brilliant! Everyone was relaxed, half the crowd had drums, poi, or fire (or in many cases, a combination of all three!) - the rest danced or looked on as the spectacle unfolded!

As the night progressed, everyone reached a happy level of merry, sharing a pint of fernet and coke; the Italian inspired Argentine favourite. Unfortunately, it appears that alcohol + distraction and noise can result in a complete inability to communicate with anyone when Spanish isn't your first language, so I left their group to join Lucy and co. (the English girl who was part of the Voluntario Global crowd) who we'd bumped into briefly earlier in the evening. This was the second failed mission of the day - there were far too many people and there was too much noise to talk over the phone so I gave up. Andres had arrived with his friends so I went to meet them near the entrance instead.

They were pretty cool, had a great time chatting with them and watching a drunk performer fail at fire poi. :p Also managed to accidentally get chatting to a Columbian guy who had messaged me completely separately through CS! Small world eh. Left the party at 5ish with Andres and one of his friends and we went to get pizza before heading home, and collapsing into bed.

Saturday

I managed to sleep through most of Saturday. Got up around 4 and did very little for a few hours. A very necessary break!
Went to meet Alex and Emmanuelle for a bite, and ended up wandering around trying in vain to find a restaurant that served salad for less than ridiculous prices. Eventually we ended up about 2 blocks from my flat and I only had time for a quick milkshake before heading off to meet Leandro to get to a Moustache party. As you do.

We were meeting at Retiro train station. I'd heard talk before of the infamous villa that exists behind the central station but hadn't yet seen it: a sprawling mass of ramshackle constructions and half buildings, covered in laundry. It's hard to believe the conditions in which some people manage to live. Doors and windows scarce, drapes and blankets a-plenty. This villa is a result of the dictatorship which ejected hundreds of people from their homes in order to build the motorway that runs southwards along the coast, and is an issue of controversy. It's not the only villa in the city by any means, but it's proximity to lucrative living highlights the inequality that's present.
The station itself is not a nice place to be waiting around. It has that creepy feel that someone might be watching. Fortunately I soon met up with the group and we headed out in the opposite direction to a much nicer barrio, full of semi-detached houses and nice cars. Ready to shatter the peace with a moustache themed BBQ. What fun....

I don't think I've ever been to a party with so many guests. The ground floor was stripped of furniture leaving a large kitchen, an even larger dance floor and a patio area outside for foods. Aside from answering the same questions about where I was from and what I was doing about 3 dozen times... I had a lot of fun! Got invited to a punk-rock gig, and spoke some English with a couple of very drunk enthusiastic students. Speaking Spanish all night - I was on fire! Everything calmed down by 6 and I took the bus home with Leandro, who then insisted I get a taxi from the bus stop for the 10 minute walk to my flat and gave me the money. Much to my annoyance. But I appreciate the gesture all the same, and did manage to thank him, despite my reluctance.

For the second night running, collapsing into bed was the best I could do.  

Sunday

I had agreed to go and meet some couchsurfers in Puerto Madero, the very expensive docks area of the city on the River Plata, connected to the mainland only by bridges. Such as this, Puente de la Mujer.

Quite impressive really. It was a beautiful day, it seems the weather is finally starting to improve somewhat (although it's still cold at night), so I didn't mind waiting around for an hour waiting for people to turn up. In truth it was good to wake up and normalize a bit after the night before! 

The first to appear was Franciso, who I'd talked to via CS, and then met on Friday night by chance. We sat and chatted a while until Emmanuelle arrived, and soon after, Leandro. Everyone was pretty tired so a casual walk along the promenade was a great way to spend the afternoon. Turns out Emmanuelle lived in Columbia with her parents for 3 years and that's why she speaks Spanish! 

Franciso is really easy company, and let me go on his longboard, an activity I'd like to try again, perhaps on a less busy day! A nice area on a sunny Sunday is bound to attract a crowd!

Some way along we came across this group of  sunbathing tortoises on a sunken boat... A sight which rendered me a bit useless for while (turtle face!!!), I don't think the others found it quite as amusing but hey. They might have had a giggle at my expense. Also fine. At the end of the promenade, we came across a large park, teaming with activity. Bought a choripan, essentially a hot dog but with chorizo and bread instead of frankfurter and roll. Delicious, and sounds simple but is possibly the most difficult thing I've had to eat while walking, even trumps a Subway with all the trimmings...

At 6, Francisco headed off to nap before his night shift and the rest of us took a wander to San Telmo to see the fería. A weekly market full of traders, dancers and performers! 

Unfortunately I was too tired to really appreciate it and so resigned to head home for a brief respite before collecting my last reserves of energy to go dancing.

Despite my exhaustion, the classes were a lot of fun. The first was Milonga, like Tango but a little faster and more jaunty sounding, the moves are pretty much the same except you don't really seem to hold pose so much, which makes it easier since you know at least that you'll be taking a step every beat! Though nobody would care if you danced Tango to Milonga.
In the second class, we promoted ourselves to intermediate which resulted in a much more interesting lesson and I may have even succeeded in pulling off one of those fancy leg moves. Who knows eh!
We were going to join the Rock class after but decided food took precedence and ordered a couple of pizzas to share and watched everyone else instead. From an outsiders perspective, dance classes really do look ridiculous!

Practicing afterwards was the most fun. Dancing with Andrea is great, when we pull off a move - party! When it flops - hysterics! Can't lose really! We were switching and swapping all the time, and did some rock dancing too... whatever that is... Seems just to be a load of spins and bopping. Easy.

By 1.30 I really was fading, so I finally called it a day and headed home. To bed.