First, I met a 24-year-old woman from Sydney, Australia for a late lunch. She is a copywriter, and therefore can work from anywhere in the world as long as she has an internet connection. She was allured by a strong Aussie Dollar versus the Argentine Peso, much like I was (with regard to the US Dollar). Anyway, I have been here for two weeks and she had been here less than a week. I know enough Spanish to get by, and she knows "Si." Oddly enough, I was the BsAs veteran in this equation.
We met at "El Obelisco." Its one of the landmarks of this city and country, and its also in the middle of the widest city street in the world - Avendia 9 de Julio, named after Argentina's Independence Day. It was a rather public place, so if this girl turned out to be an axe-murderer, I would have 18 lanes of traffic and hundreds of witnesses to help me.
As it turns out, she was exactly who she said she was (we had talked on Skype before meeting in person), and we had a wonderful lunch and a fun time exploring a part of the city neither of us had previously visited. We decided to meet today so we could arrive at a larger Expat function and already know someone else. We met about 8 other people at a cafe in Palermo, a trendy neighborhood in town, for late afternoon coffee and snacks. We met at 5 and stayed there until 8. Me, the Aussie and another man in his 50s fro California all decided to continue our conversations at another cafe and eat dinner. We talked history, politics, Argentina, food, travel and many other things. While we didn't agree on everything, the camaraderie of foreigners in this new country produced a wonderful evening of conversation. In addition, it was nice to see hear the Californian's accent (in a strange twist, the Californian's mother was from Dumas, AR - so we had some fun talking about America from a southerner's perspective).
All in all, a great night. We stayed at the restaurant until after 11:00 PM, and none of us realized it was that late. And to my surprise, none of the people there were stereotypes of "American's living abroad." I expected to be the only normal American living here, surrounded by Hippies and people with EXTREME political views (of which I don't subscribe). On the contrary, I didn't meet one Panama Jack-hat-wearing, Ernest Hemingway-emulating baby-boomer.
I really felt that I was home away from home tonight. Besides the English, we all had similar perspectives to curious Argentine customs. In a rather funny moment of introductions, we didn't know whether or not to greet each other with a kiss, as is custom here, or greet each other like we would back home. Finally, someone can empathize with me in this awkward decision to kiss someone when we first meet!
To put an end to my stream-of-consciousness ramblings, below are two curious shops I passed while out tonight. Between all the English I had heard and seeing these signs, I had to question if I was still in Argentina.
The "Bubba's" sign came in quite handy when describing Arkansas. With that said, how it exactly got its name, is a complete and utter mystery. I asked to speak to the owners, but they were not there. The "Kentucky Pizzeria" shop really threw me for a loop. Its even blue and white. It was closed, but I want to go in some day and see if there is a wildcat somewhere in there. However, if there is, I might have to leave a city that has already been staked out by the bad boys of the bluegrass state. That, or I'll open a Razorback-themed pizzeria in BsAs just for spite.
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