“Between the funeral services with a flashing sign and the agricultural bookshop, that’s where you’ll find us.”
So the plane was cramped, but somehow I managed to sleep for most of the flight and only get up once to use the toilet.
Buenos Aires greeted me with a hot breath of an embrace, and scrambled my head with memories of Rome, Tel Aviv and imaginary places. The interesting thing is that there has been no culture shock for me. Everything feels very, not just European, but Italian, even Roman in some respects (minus the ruins). People look the same to a very large extent, the smells are the same. The avenues are wider, the buildings a little taller, the cars a little more American, there is less fresh produce on sale at the shops, but overall, this could be Rome in an alternate universe (Fringe-Rome?) where some things are better organised/laid out, but the same attitude prevails, of lassitude, world-weariness, of stumbling over broken concrete and dog shit without a second thought because, well, it isn’t my problem.
The little sting in the tail has been the illness that I thought defeated on departure. After the first couple of days, where I thought it was the huge change in weather/humidity and jet lag that was making me feel crap, I started to notice other symptoms. Coughing, sore throat. Today, spurred by my ever anxious mother, I decided to get checked out by a doctor in case I had something more sinister like tonsillitis.
Destiny works in mysterious ways, I think we’ve established that, so I remembered noticing that right in front of our building there was a sign about “ear/nose/throat institute”; that isn’t odd: we are very near the big medical school, so all around us there are many specialised medical supply stores and medical practices of all kinds. When I pop out for a coffee or lunch, I always notice I am surrounded by a strange mix of people in hospital scrubs and very very old people, either shouting loudly at each other or carrying oxygen tanks…
Anyway, I went into the earnosethingy place, and with my rudimentary Spanish I managed to be seen in about 15 minutes altogether, at a cost of 300 pesos (which apparently it is quite high for here but being around £23 I wasn’t about to complain). The doctor spoke perfect English, visited me and the verdict is it’s just a viral flu that is struggling to budge. I just have to be patient (don’t I know this!). In this respect, Buenos Aires is millennia ahead of Rome.
So far then I have been keeping quite a low profile, getting to know my neighbourhood, working, sleeping (trying to get better), hanging out with my friend J with whom I am staying (more on this later), and seeing the lovely Palermo with M, a friend’s relative, who kindly babysat me yesterday and showed me where the young people go to hang out. So here’s a pic from Palermo. A groovy, if manicured place, that reminded me a lot of an area of Tel Aviv of which I’ve forgotten the name. The kind of area that feels good but that, underneath it all, I don’t feel entitled to inhabit.
Gotta go now, another big thunderstorm is threatening to break, and I have a prime, sixth floor spot to watch it from.
Loving this and missing you. Hope you’re feeling better already xx
THIS – “…of stumbling over broken concrete and dog shit without a second thought because, well, it isn’t my problem…” is hilarious!
🙂