What's up

in downtown Capital Federal: 

I wouldn't consider myself a country girl; I like to go on vacation to the mountains, to hike and to camp - provided it's only for a few days and I am not required to use a public port-a-potty more than maybe once in an emergency.  I wouldn't consider myself a city girl either, but it's easy to find your own tiny little rhythm in a city like Buenos Aires where foreigners are a dime-a-dozen.  

Nine times out of ten you'll be asked where you are from within the first 10-15 seconds of meeting someone.   They aren't trying to be rude, of course, they are just being direct.  

The hustle and bustle, the lights, the noise - it's the same as any other city.  What makes Buenos Aires so distinctive - for me at least - are the people... even if not all of them are porteños.  

   @ La Sophia c/ Rivadavia - Almagro 

 Take this typical "goodbye luncheon" for Marie.  From left to right: Manuel (Argentine), Mareike Rudolph   (German), Marie Larotte (French) and me.  How did we all meet?  Marie was my roommate for a week... who previously became friends with Mareike our house-mate... who met Manuel through friends... Manuel met Mareike and Marie through the ever more impressive global "couch-surfing" network.

What is even more surprising?  Manuel and Mareike are vegetarians.  That's right: an Argentine and a German.  No "bratwurst" jokes here.    

La Poesía c/ Bolivar y Chile - San Telmo 

But the plot thickens... Take this long weekend back in March, for example.  The redhead: Paloma Tine (French), Little-Old-Me, Mayara Maia (Brazilian).  Oh yes, and Jorge Luis Borges is behind us there on the wall.  How did we all get here?  Well, Mayara moved into the house shortly after I did followed by Paloma. But how did Paloma find us?  Well, she is the younger sister of Marie's good friend from Paris who just happened to be traveling to Argentina and looking for a room in Buenos Aires for a month.  

And to top it all off... what are we doing in this delightful little Resto-Bar?  We're waiting on an Argentine and a Venezuelan we met (again through couch surfing).

Did I mention how long we waited for the Argentine?  It's a given: if you want to eat at 10:00pm, tell them dinner is at 8:30 (at the least).

As much as I like meeting people, it is never fun to have to say goodbye - and even less so when you've been up since 5:40 like I was (in this photo) to go to a riveting conference on raising "broilers" in a city called Pilar - about an hour outside of the Capital.    

Of course, as we say in castellano "vale la pena" ... that is to say, it's worth it; even if it means saying goodbye sometimes.