Quite why I haven’t written a blog for such a long time is a bit of a mystery to me. When speaking to a good friend of mine on skype the other day I put it down to the fact that my life here in Argentina is just not as random, bizarre and diverse as it was in Brazil. A promise I made to myself before I started the blog was that if I reached the point where my posts were in danger of reading like the script from that youtube clip ‘gap yah’ then I would stop writing until I had something vaguely interesting to say. However I quickly found that blogs are a bit like reverse Pringles, to the extent that once I stopped I found it very difficult to pop again.
So then why write one now, so close to the end of my time here in Buenos Aires? I think the answer lies in the combination of desperate attempt to put off my 4,000 word year abroad essay at all costs, a last minute bid to do something vaguely productive with my time here and to try to convince the girl that works next to me that I am doing something vaguely productive with my time here and a way for me to reflect on my Buenos Aires adventure, without looking back through all my facebook photos from the last 3 and a half months.
So given that I have such a long period of time to cover, I have decided to split my life into several key areas, which conveniently makes me sound a lot more productive than I actually am. So here goes;
Work
The fact that I am writing this from my desk at work tells you all you need to know about how vital a cog I am in the machine that is Cooper insurance brokers Argentina. I was lucky enough to find the job through a family friend, having previously spent months in a fruitless job search. By a job search I do of course mean occasionally typing ‘job argentina’ into google and then feigning surprise when ‘paid 5 month internship in sports section of Buenos Aires newspaper, no degree or relevant qualifications required’ didn’t come up as a hit. So as soon as a tangible offer came my way I of course snapped it up, and whilst I am not paid, I am working in a beautiful office (with balcony et al) in a great part of the city, with a really nice bunch of argentines with whom I speak entirely in Spanish. There is also a great drinks fridge with a range of beverages, currently including a bottle of champagne which I am rather optimistically hoping is for a surprise party for me when I leave for good at the end of next week.
As for my actual role within the organization, I have already alluded to the fact that I am not inundated with jobs or tasks. When I arrived I had a chat with one of the big names in the firm, and he told me that I would be moving around every two weeks and seeing what each department does. At the time I thought ‘what he actually means is I’m going to become the office bitch’. However if indeed that is my current job description then I have stumbled across the best place to be the run-around boy, because no one drinks any coffee, or if they do they seem perfectly happy to make it themselves, and there is no filing to be done because the motto seems to be ‘we’ll just put it on top of that big pile of other stuff’. So what does the run-around do if there is no running around to be done I hear you ask. Twenty years ago, my day would have probably involved a lot of thumb twiddling and elastic band flicking, but thanks to the wonders of the internet my day is spent exploring Facebook and working through a wide array of news sites, starting off my morning with the high brow articles off the BBC site, and ending the day with something more like ‘David Cameron wore thong to sixth form summer ball’ in the daily star.
I have also allocated myself more flexible working hours recently, because to be honest with you my 11-4 days get a bit much sometimes. This flexibility became obvious to me from an early stage when, having returned rather sheepishly from an hour and a half lunch with a friend I was told ‘you didn’t have to rush back’. As a result I am generally here from 11.30 until 2.45 including an hour for lunch. Short of my desk being a Jacuzzi, it couldn’t really be more relaxed here.
Mi casa y mi barrio
As you will know if you read my last post, I sent my friend Ben out here a week early to scout us out a place to live. Having read over what I said just after arriving, I can’t help but feel I did Almagro, my barrio (or endz) a great disservice. For a start, there has been none of the drug related turf wars I predicted, and in fact the only drugs I have seen are those smoked by the bearded men who work in the computer repair shop next door to us. I use the word ‘work’ in its loosest sense because they never seem to have any customers. This may be because their record of fixing computers isn’t great, for example Eva, the lady that owns my apartment, gave her computer in to be fixed and she still hasn’t had it returned. That was just short of two years ago.
In truth though Almagro has proved to be a quiet, friendly little area, with a cluster of really nice shops, bars, restaurants and cafes on the street adjacent to our own and the fact that we are pretty much the only non-argentines in the area means that we have built up quite a rapport with many of the waiters and shopkeepers. Special mention must go to Alejandro who works in the Parillita, the little steakhouse around the corner which combines a great steak sandwich with a subscription to ESPN. Alejandro loves to chat a bit of football, and we have been able to shed a few tears together of late as the form of Arsenal and his beloved River plate have both gone down the toilet recently. He also got it into his head at some point that Ben was a Man U fan, and rather than correct him at an early stage, Ben has now got to the point where he has to pretend to be elated every time they win.
The house itself is a bit of a beaut as well. The terrace served us really well for three months, and played host to a good few barbecues, but the arrival of May and a distinct lack of hats coats and scarves has meant that the alfresco dining has been put on hold. The house dynamic is a lot of fun as well and whilst my love/hate relationship with our foot licking dog pippin continues, the rest of us get on well. Sadly our German housemate Lukas returned home in April, although Ben maintains his daily renditions of ‘two world wars and one world cup do da do da’ had nothing to do with it. He has, however, been replaced by Malcolm, a 6”5 college basketball star from Philadelphia who is an absolute hero and well on his way to becoming a Michelin starred chef. If only he was able to light the gas himself. Rocio, who studies law at the University of Buenos Aires, is an ideal housemate and her range of animal impressions is second to none. In terms of cleanliness, Ben and I have made massive steps forward and we have finally got to grips with what Eva expects from us. Saying that she does still call me a ‘desastre’ from time to time and tells me my room looks like Bin Laden’s hide out, but I guess you can’t have it all.
Extra curricular activities
Buenos Aires unlike Florianopolis could be described as ‘brimming with culture’ and whilst I never planned to go traipsing around galleries every weekend, I feel that I have seen a lot of interesting stuff. I find it always helps having friends to visit, because that pushes you to get up of the sofa (got one in my room, and what?) and have a wander into the markets like the ones in San Telmo and La Boca, or go along to the zoo. The Buenos Aires zoo is actually pretty cool and well worth a visit if you’re in the area. There is an interesting system in place by which the animals are allocated space on the basis of how badass they are considered. For example the Siberian white tiger has a huge area, complete with an aesthetically pleasing water feature, whereas the poor meerkats were shoved into a tiny box. They must be crossing their little fingers that the whole ‘compare the meerkat.com’ goes global.
In my mind, cultural activities also extend to things like cinema, theatre and shows. We have been to the cinema a couple of times, hit a tango show and went to a performance of the ‘teatro ciego’ or ‘blind theatre’. The blind theatre was probably the most unusual thing that I have experienced here. Firstly I must make it clear that you do not have to be blind to go, as the poor man in front of me in the ticket queue found out too late having already bought a long white stick and a guide dog. No, the blind theatre is given its name because it is conducted in complete pitch black and aims to target your other senses. It really was a cool, although I can only imagine what sort of chaos would ensue if ever there was a fire.
On the sporting front, Saturday mornings have often been spent playing for a local football team who play in a Saturday league. Unfortunately the regular Friday night rain has put pay to several fixtures but we are currently unbeaten in the league, and apart from anything else it’s a really nice group of guys we play with. However since my three week expedition to Patagonia and Brazil I have found my return to the fold less like a Van Persie returning from an injury and more like an Eboue returning from the African cup of nations. But that’s life I guess.
I do intend to write a little bit about my time with my family and my grand return to Brazil, but I think I will spare you that for now as this post is already essay length. I have sadly just discovered that the packaging of the delicious sandwich I have just eaten contains the strap line ‘France in your mouth’. I might just nip and brush my teeth
Until next time….
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