QUICK WEIRDNESS. Buenos Aires, Argentina. Without any visual aids, I want to briefly mention something that happened to me today. I landed in Buenos Aires bright and early this morning. 7.15am. Managed to get lost on a bus that in principal was to pass within blocks of my hostel destination (I asked the driver to let me know when we got to that stop, and he said he'd remind me. And forgot.) But getting off the bus in a slightly less savory neighborhood, I was delighted to find 2 cool argentinean kids who put me in a cab going the right way. I don't speak any spanish, but I got a cab driver from uruguay, who could understand my portuguese (proximity to brasil and all) and he was really nice and we had a good talk and he dropped me at hostel #1, to whom I'd written a few days back but gotten no reply. I walked in to what appeared to be a (semi-) grown up Romper Room. Lots of signs about partying and bars, lots of foreign people in their 20's/early 30's, staving off hangovers mid week with European style breakfast in the hostel cafe. The building was modern, spacious, the crowd international, but definitely there to party. The hostel has a reputation in South America as a party place, and, not surprisingly is well advertised. (In fact, I gather- NOW, IN buenos Aires- that there are 5 to be found in this city. But no other advertises up North. Weird). Anyway, suffice it to say, they had no openings. They absentmindly and quite uninterestedly sent me to a nearby hostel, said it would take 10 minutes to walk. They gave me no map, vague directions, and part of an address. And with 28kilos of baggage hanging all over me, 4 stops for directions and 45 minutes later, (11.15am) I turned up at my current coordinates. But I'm settled now, stuff in locker, had breakfast (a smile will get you past many things, including breakfast hours being over by 16minutes), and managed to find loads of nice things in town today, just walking first, camera free to get an idea of the place without being tempted to focus on that tiny aperture.

The weird part wasn't even any of that. It was just that as I boarded the city bus in Foz d'IguaÇu yesterday to go to the bus station there, I was joking in Portuguese with the ticket lady. I had a nice conversation with the cafeteria lady at the station, and managed to get in ONE of the many last phone calls to Brasilian friends before giving away my phone card and boarding my bus for Buenos Aires. I had a bus neighbor from Brasil (few brasilians on the bus) and talked Portuguese all the way here (except in my sleep)(I think). And when I got off the bus, suddenly, no one could understand me again. I can understand many things, but when I open my mouth to speak with the words I have (italian, portuguese or english), they look at me in confusion. It is a strange sensation to make so much progress and in a blink of an eye, be at the start again.

Moreover, learning portugese was a bit like climbing a mountain (a really fun, beautiful sounding mountain). And I never agreed to descend, and suddenly, I'm at the base of a different mountain... I wish to be able to stack the mountains, base to peak, and just keep climbing, to keep all of the languages and cultures with me as I finally manage to be a part of them instead of being reset each time I board a bus that requires a passport stamp. But I haven't figure out how.

Anyway, I have a bunch of stuff I wanted to say about what turned into nearly 6 days in Curitiba (quite possibly the dullest place I visited in Brasil) and about the Foz d'IguaÇu, which are breathtaking. But it will have to wait until after I go eat some meat and drink some wine. I mean, it's Argentina after all. Despite/because of the language barrier, I have noticed that.