A Week of Independence

For the last week and a half I have been staying in a friends apartment. There has been an emptiness since the rest of the members of my program, all my new friends that had been such a huge part of my life all went home. All week I've been reading Facebook status' and tweets of friends and acquaintances as they rejoice in their homecoming, seeing family, friends and summer. And here I am.

Part of me thought that the reason I wanted to stay was because of the people I had met. If I could just freeze time it would be ideal, that my love for the city existed within the experiences and the friends I had made which may be partly true. But since everyone left, I have found myself entering a comfortable routine with the city. Walking the streets, the parks, the ferias, not as a tourist, on a mission to see anything in particular, but as a sort of resident, appreciating living somewhere. I haven't gone to any museums, landmarks or famous cafes as I expected, I haven't tried to squeeze in the 'last few things' on my list, partly because I know I could never do it all, and partly because I know I will be back. I've been content. Sitting on the balcony, reading Marquez and Borges, making crepes, taking walks. The chilly winter weather has recently given way to a more humid, week of fog, giving the city a look of mystery and complacency.

As I walk these streets, or look out the window at the buildings with straight balconies, grimy walls, the mixture of architecture, ancient, modern and dated, cohabiting the blocks. The things I once found strange are endearing, common and necessary. Looking at Buenos Aries this way it's easy to forget the government, the economic instability, the dark and revolutionary history I have been overly exposed to in university for the past semester.

A big city that was once strange and exotic, is now comfortable, I'm used to the women in weird shoes with their waist length hair, and the italian lilt of the conversations I can almost understand. I'm used to repeating myself, and the questions about my hair, or my eyes or my nationality (apparently I look French and or German?) I'm having a difficult time thinking about leaving, My heart is torn, but as I said, I know I'll be back, You don't forget a place like this.

Feria el libros en Plaza Italia

Botanical Gardens in Palermo

Como Siempre,
Besos,
Hil

Your eyes love to travel to see the places, but your heart? Your heart travels for the people. 

Thank you Traveling Travelers. I couldn't have asked for anything better.

The Real Danger

I think I have been in this city enough time to discuss danger, a topic about which my mother will no doubt be keen to hear (sorry Mom!). It must be said that danger in a city is inevitable, and in a city of this size, danger is the elephant in the room that everyone is talking about.

When I first arrived, we had the all too familiar orientations. Sometimes these orientations said helpful things like, 'get cash here' or 'only monedas on the busses,' but normally the point was to scare us careful; a phrase which here means: To make a person so fearful of robbery, mugging, rape and the like, that they will never let anything they own out of their sight." "Ojos Abiertos" meaning "Keep your eyes on the watch at all times" was a phrase used by not only my program directors, but by my host mother, friends, faculty and, more than one old bus driver.

I get it, I get it. The city is dangerous. Be careful, don't be stupid, blah blah blah. Easy. Right? Wrong. It may amaze you to discover that I quite enjoy people. Frolicking, laughing, telling stories. It only seems logical that I would surround myself with like-minded people. The words 'cautious' and 'inconspicuous' don't tend to follow us around.

I thought the city would make me more pensive, which it no doubt has, but I think it has also made me more cautious. Not in the lock your doors and shut your windows to the world kind of way, but in the way that there's always just a little nagging suspicion that there could be something awry around the corner.

There is something unsettling about the feeling of being on a dark street at night, or being alone in an unmarked taxi. And may I say from experience, there is nothing that will pump straight adrenaline into your veins like being aggressively approached by a stranger on a quiet street corner. In a city full of people, you would think I would pine for a moment of solitude, but I actually quite dislike it. I prefer busy streets, lit walkways, lots of traffic, a not so silent sentiment to the fact that when I am surrounded, I feel the safest.

Here in Buenos Aires, caution is necessary, but on the flip side, danger is everywhere. Wait you say... that's not positive, Hilary. But the old two negatives make a positive just might work in this situation; hear me out. If danger is everywhere, than it can pretty much be habitually avoided. If you're just as careful in the café as you are on the streets, and try to acclimate as best as your little darwin gene will let you, (this  coming from the albino in BA) you may not be immune to danger, but you will definitely stress less about it. Also, quick tip ladies: keep the important stuff, in your bra (guys: Jock strap?).

The key part of danger is to not let it come in the way of experiences. I'm sure this is the last thing Mom wanted to hear me say but it's true. If you're too scared to ride the colectivos-- you're going to miss the art festival, if you're to scared to walk home from school-- you're not going to discover the most delicious empanada shop on Juramento, That rad museum? Forget it unless you grow a pair and explore Chinatown.

In all reality, I don't mind it. In fact I love it. The danger makes me feel a little devil-may-care and to be honest, it's refreshing to be somewhere with this many people being so alert. There's always the dumb american girl who's yelling loudly at her friend about how lost they are, or the european tourist who left his backpack unzipped, but for the most part, the locals are cautions and conscious, which I admire. To them, eating at a restaurant with their bag on their lap isn't an inconvenience, it's natural. I like natural.

These are the things you'll learn, and the reason you'll never want to leave.

As always,
Besos,
Hil