Day 2 Revived: I guess I am Not a Bad Communicator After All

After my fiasco at San Martin, I was hesitant to talk to Argentines at all. I walked a few miles to Palermo, my favorite barrio in Buenos Aires so far! It was beautiful! There, the people were very stylish and walked with the porteño air that I had expected seeing upon arrival but hadn't until now. Cobble-stoned roads. Shady trees. Gardens. Cafés. Boutiques. Fine Dining. Tranquilo. Relaxing! For those in Pittsburgh, think Shadyside. :)

After going shopping at a trendy Mens clothing store, called Bolivia, I decided to find a place to eat. Stumbling upon a “”Deli and Natural Bar” called b-Blue was the pick-me-up I needed! A fresh, natural drink was what I needed! The website is just as awesome as the restaurant. Check it out: http://www.b-blue.com.ar/

After this wonderful lunch, I went to Museo Evita, a museum dedicated to memorializing Evita Perón, the country’s most important women. Think Jackie O, but with a greater social and political presence. This visit stressed the importance of Evita's role in Argentina. She was a goddess. A Saint. A leader.

Then… it was time for a quick rest back at the hostel. Navigating the Metro was pretty stress-free. Hot & Sticky Ride?—Yes. I didn't mind it though. So many different people were on the ride with me, people of all social classes of Buenos Aires. There was even little drama performance, which I thought was real! It was thrilling and frightening! Imagine this: Two men yelling from across the subway train and then Christian…stuck in between the line of fire! Were they yelling at me? I didn’t know! I just put on a dork smile to ease the mood. Then, I realized everyone was laughing at the spectacle. It was a show! The two men continued to yell and flail their arms and spit and crack jokes. After the “argument” was over they took off their hats and asked for donations. They fooled me!

After walking from above the Metro, I found a shady bench along the sidewalk to rest at and then, whipped out my map again to make sure I knew where I was. Then, my second important encounter with a porteño occurred. (This map is trouble). This time it was a woman by the name of Valentina. She had a small build and was dark-skinned, unlike most Argentine people. She explained she was from the north of Argentina near Bolivia, which means she is mostly of indigenous blood. We had a lovely conversation talking about out lives: I, a giddy, 19 year old student in an unfamiliar country; she, maiden 40-something year old woman of experience and grace. She gave me her number and wished me luck with my stay in the city. Yeah son! I got my first set of Argentine Digits! Not what I was expecting but cool nonetheless. My spanish works!