All Tomorrow's Parties
Well, I'm quite certain noone is checking this given the fact I am malo when it comes to updating, bit I will write maybe merely for my own sake to make sense of where I'm at...
Where I'm at is a Tandil, a small city of 100,000 in an important dairy producing region. To get here you cross hours and hours of fields of soy and cow. After 5 hours in bus I squint my eyes wanting so much for it to feel exotic and different, but really it might as well be Kansas. Then out of nowhere these small rocky mountains (hills really by Oregon standards) rising out of the plains and a pleasant little town by a lake. I came here as a night layover and yet the little albergue I found was so nice that each day I plan to leave and each night I find I'm still here.
I've made friends and try to keep pace with a race of people engineered to run on meat, white flour, mate, and really almost no sleep. At 2 in the morning I sneak off to bed hoping noone will catch me and compell me to drink more cuba libre or eat another charred hunk of animal flesh and in the morning they are up before me and more cheerfully as well.
I'm not sure what I'm doing here. People ask and I say paseando but if I'm really being honest it's no estoy seguro. Zoe, Lois Ann, and Katie have all gone home and I find I have little desire to do the backpacking from hostel to hostel thing nor has work materialized nor am I really sure that Argentina is my place. I think I've known for a while that it's the northwest. For now, Tandil really isn't such a bad place to ponder these things; it's essentially unknown to foreigners and I am forced practice my rusty and much deteriorated Spanish.
Today will be a day dedicated to bike riding and futbol and homemade hamburgers on the grill at night. I hope everyone is well. Un abrazo fuerte para todos y que esten sanos y cuerdos...
Where I'm at is a Tandil, a small city of 100,000 in an important dairy producing region. To get here you cross hours and hours of fields of soy and cow. After 5 hours in bus I squint my eyes wanting so much for it to feel exotic and different, but really it might as well be Kansas. Then out of nowhere these small rocky mountains (hills really by Oregon standards) rising out of the plains and a pleasant little town by a lake. I came here as a night layover and yet the little albergue I found was so nice that each day I plan to leave and each night I find I'm still here.
I've made friends and try to keep pace with a race of people engineered to run on meat, white flour, mate, and really almost no sleep. At 2 in the morning I sneak off to bed hoping noone will catch me and compell me to drink more cuba libre or eat another charred hunk of animal flesh and in the morning they are up before me and more cheerfully as well.
I'm not sure what I'm doing here. People ask and I say paseando but if I'm really being honest it's no estoy seguro. Zoe, Lois Ann, and Katie have all gone home and I find I have little desire to do the backpacking from hostel to hostel thing nor has work materialized nor am I really sure that Argentina is my place. I think I've known for a while that it's the northwest. For now, Tandil really isn't such a bad place to ponder these things; it's essentially unknown to foreigners and I am forced practice my rusty and much deteriorated Spanish.
Today will be a day dedicated to bike riding and futbol and homemade hamburgers on the grill at night. I hope everyone is well. Un abrazo fuerte para todos y que esten sanos y cuerdos...
Labels: Argentina
posted by Hobbs at 7:05 AM
1 Comments:
At this point you are truly malo at updating. What's going on in Argentina? I need photos but we already discussed that ;)
Adam
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