MIA

I was meant to catch a flight out of Buenos Aires last night when I realised I hadn't rounded out my tour of hospitals, so instead ended up spending many hours going through various tests and doctor's consultations with a slightly worrying case of an inflamed appendix. But that's a story for another day. Luckily I was cleared this morning and am about ready to set off.

The real point of this post is to let everyone know I'll be out of contact for the next 2 to 3 weeks. No blog posts unfortunately so as not to incriminate myself. I'll leave you with this strip from my favourite comic of all time, Calvin and Hobbes. (Click to enlarge.)

Language Progress

A few days ago I had a breakthrough. I sat down at a cafe and while waiting for my food to arrive, picked up Clarín. Now I know what you're thinking - uh oh, he's hitting the pills hard. No, it turns out that despite the name and logo, Clarín is one of the main papers in Buenos Aires. As far as I know there are no addictive properties, though they do try to draw you in by highlighting key phrases which makes it seem like you're reading a gossip column about Kate Winslet and Brad Pitt when in fact you're reading about the latest homicide.

In any case, I picked up the paper to kill time and found that I understood most of it. It took some work, but what a satisfying feeling. It's a change from my current project of reading the first Harry Potter in Spanish, which has me simultaneously looking up almost every word in my 1,100 page Spanish/English dictionary.

I also find myself having the occasional dream in Spanish. This of course can be confusing when English-speaking friends pop up and I push on trying to converse in broken Spanish with them. When I wake up I inevitably have dozens of grammatical questions about the things I said. They usually bug me until half an hour later when I can't remember the dream anymore.

A Weekend's Break

If there's anything keeping Colonia del Sacramento off the cover of travel magazines, it's probably the water. Muddy and brown aren't characteristics that tend to lure people to vacation spots. Lucky for me, as I took a trip there last weekend to get away from the crowded city. I was surprised to find such a tranquil place just an hour's boat ride from the center of Buenos Aires. I spent my first day wandering around the beautiful colonial section of town, enjoying the old cobblestone streets and picturesque houses with walls of brick exposed by crumbling plaster.

A sign in the hostel I stayed at informed me that the water, as well as being muddy, had toxic green moss in some areas. But when I went to the beach the sun was scorching, so I surrendered to the reasoning of "everyone else is doing it, why can't I?" and went for a swim. A subsequent check didn't reveal any extra limbs sprouting, so no regrets thus far. Unless there's one on my back. That's always hard to see in the mirror.

The second night ended in the early hours of the morning, sitting with an Irish traveller outside a just-closed bar and listening to him having an extended debate with a local about various political leaders in South America. It was entertaining for a while; as the Irish didn't speak Spanish the conversation went something like this:

Irish traveller: Néstor Kirchner... bien?
Uruguayan mechanic: Más o menos, sí. Sí.
Irish traveller: Uhhh... Chavez? Hugo Chavez? Bueno?
Uruguayan mechanic: (Draws his hand across his throat.) No. No me gusta.
Irish traveller: But... Castro? Castro? Bueno?
Uruguayan mechanic: (Motions putting a gun to his head and pulling the trigger.) No! Muy malo.
Irish traveller: Oh. But Chavez? Bien, no?
Uruguayan mechanic: (Repeats his previous response.)
Irish traveller: And Castro... también?
Uruguayan mechanic: (Says he should be shot.)
(Repeat x20 minutes)

When the novelty of hearing the Uruguayan's yes/no responses, and sometimes accompanying violent hand gestures, wore thin, I decided bedtime had come. I went back to the hostel and mulled over the points and counterpoints both men had presented.

And so the following day, after this late-night debate, I fell asleep on a small beach which I had reached after renting a small motor scooter and cruising out on the surrounding country roads. I sat down to read and woke up a little later to the sound of waves on the sand. If more of my weekends ended like that I would probably be a healthier, less-stressed person.