26 - Farewell, My Amigos (Buenos Aires)

Salta to Buenos Aires, ARGENTINA - 18 march 2003

Gilles had asked me the other day, if I was flying from Salta to Buenos Aires. “Fly??? No, I am going by bus, of course. It’s only 20, 22 hours… Flying is too fast.”

Besides the toddler who wailed and screamed as if there was no tomorrow every 2 hours or so, it was a pleasant ride, through very flat grounds, on excellent highways with the full moon in the sky. Beyond the Andes, Argentina is just flat all the way to the coastline.



Buenos Aires, ARGENTINA - 19 march 2003

The movie-selector actually did not do a bad job, choosing movies with recognisable actors and coincidentally, all had a word beginning with the letter ‘P’ (the stupid things I noticed!): Payback, Patroit Games, Clear and Present Danger, The Perfect Storm. The 22-hour bus-ride did not appear to pass by that slowly.

When the bus pulled into the bus terminal in Retiro, it crawled so slowly around it as if it was an air-plane cruising on the taxi-way, waiting for instructions on which platform to pull in. Wait, I believed they were indeed waiting for instructions for there was a tiny phone which the driver had to pick up, before he could drive to the platform. Gosh, the bus terminal was THAT big.

Hola, Retiro. Hola, English clock tower. Hola, Buenos Aires.

Oh… really great to arrive at a city and know exactly where to go to take a bus to my hostel, how much to pay, where to get off, etc… all without a glance at any map or looking sky-wards for street-signs or asking someone for directions. I just walked to my hostel from pure memory of the streets. It felt just like coming home, my second home. I would be staying in a hostel this time because Pablo’s cousin had moved in with him in his apartment and there was not enough room for me.

I eagerly skipped out to town after I got settled. Oh, Buenos Aires… I had really missed you!! What were different? What were the same? There were many new graffiti on the ground and on the doors of banks, in English too, BANKS + GOVERNMENT MURDERERS, THIEVES. There were many new posters for President Candidates for the upcoming Argentinian election which would be in April. At one point, I observed a guy walk up to a series of MENEM’s posters and rip them off one by one. My sentiments too. The street-vendors on Calle Florida were gone again. There were also posters against the upcoming Iraqi war, ¡QUÉ HIJO DE BUSH! [instead of ‘son-of-a-bitch’, it was ‘son-of-Bush’] and NO SANGRE POR PETROLEO [No blood for oil].

The past few months, my entire world had consisted of canyons, glaciers, mountains, altiplano, ruins, museums, mummies, muddy roads… and frankly, I was a little taken aback when I met up with Pablo later that evening and he gravely told me the Iraq War might start tonight.

Oh, great to see Pablo again. He had gone skinnier and fairer. Sigh, he had lost the traveller’s tan. I guess I would too, soon… He wanted to know every single thing that happened to me during my three-month trip around South America. He refused to look at my latino souvenirs. He was afraid he might die laughing.



Buenos Aires, ARGENTINA - 20 march 2003

I was told that the price of my hostel included breakfast. I found nothing in the kitchen and made inquires at the Reception. I was given an triple-layered, dunk in white chocolate, spread with dulce de leche alfajor. What the…??? I recalled the bygone days in Brazil where, for breakfast, I had a whole basket of fruits, a buffet selection of cakes, tarts and pies and three flasks - one for coffee, one for milk, one for hot water for tea, to feast on. Heaven on Earth. Those were the days. Here in Buenos Aires… one alfajor. I would be staying eight nights here. I wonder if I would be ‘alfajored’ to death.

The main reason for returning to Buenos Aires was to catch up with my friends, of course. The other was to try and apply for my visa to Guatemala, my next destination.

When I arrived at the Embassy of Guatemala, the lady gave me a list of items I needed to produce and they must all be present before they would consider my application. Three photos, photocopy of DNI (Argentina’s Identity Card), photocopy of every page of the passport, air-tickets in and out of Guatemala and employment documentation. I pointed out that I did not have a DNI and employment documentation for I am not from Argentina, I am a tourist and I was not working here in Argentina. My air-tickets are in and out of Mexico, not Guatemala. She stopped short but told me to produce whatever I could and she would check with the Ambassador later.

I photocopied every page of my passport (gosh!!!) and returned to the Embassy. She made me wait for 1 hour before asking me to fill out the form. Just then, the Ambassador passed by and she explained to him my situation. To my utter surprise, the Ambassador said, without the DNI and the employment documentation, he could not process for me. What? I politely inquired if they had another set of requirements for tourists. No.

Argh. Now I had to go to Mexico City to get my visa done there. But the problem was - I fly to Cancún but transit in Mexico City. I do not have a few days there in Mexico City to sort out this visa issue. There is no Guatemala Embassy in Cancún, they told me.

I tracked down Mexicana and explained my situation. Could I change my transit in Mexico City, into two separate flights… Buenos Aires to Mexico City, stay a few days in Mexico City and then, Mexico City to Cancún, please? Sergio said maybe not, but he needed to check with his supervisor and his supervisor was not around. I should return tomorrow to get my answer.

Administration days! Pooh!!



Buenos Aires, ARGENTINA - 21 march 2003

Guess what I had for breakfast… alfajor.

I returned to Mexicana and to my surprise, my dear Sergio had consulted his supervisor and they could make my tickets separate at no extra charges. Acknowledging my delighted gratitude, he added, “¿Argentina bueno, huh? [Argentina good, huh?]” I totally agreed.

I went to my language centre to collect my long overdue certificate for completing my Spanish Level 3 and chatted with the admin guy Carlos and my teacher Ariel. There, I also ran into one of my ex-classmates, Per, from Denmark, now in Level 4. We caught up with each other and he invited me to visit the new house he and his girlfriend were living now. His girlfriend Maria had just inherited it. Great idea! I would go there tomorrow.



Buenos Aires, ARGENTINA - 22 march 2003

I refused to eat the alfajor today and bought some other lovely pastries.

During my two months here in Buenos Aires, I had visited the weekend fair at Plaza Francia, near Recoleta, and had spotted some things that I might like to get for my friends. I was there rather early and the stall-owners had not arrived yet. I waited and waited for that particular stall-owner to come but by 1pm, I still could not find it.

Oh, forget it… I took a bus to Per’s house at Villa Elisa, in a southern suburb of Buenos Aires. It had a very nice, tranquil small-town feel to it. The inherited property was huge and lovely. There was underground water beneath the house and they could just draw water from there to drink! I live in a high-rise apartment all my life. To me, water means coming from the tap. Drinking from the ground and right from below your house too, was really interesting. I spent a lovely afternoon with them, asado included, of course.



Buenos Aires, ARGENTINA - 23 march 2003

I had taken some black-and-white photographs at San Telmo with my Australian friends Carolyn and Lydia, way back on a December Sunday before my camera was stolen from me that fateful day. So, with it, gone too were the captured images.

Today was my last Sunday in Buenos Aires. Pablo and I returned to San Telmo for a second chance at it. We continued to be thoroughly amused by the kitsch antiques, ancient toys, ridiculous wares up for sale. We were giggling and giggling non-stop. Who would buy this? Oh, look at that, look at that… My goodness!

My incredulous facial expression, according to him, was priceless. San Telmo was kitsch wonderland.

The funny thing was, in Chile, I had spotted a common practice of putting little things, grossly kitsch stuff, on their window panes… things like little plastic tiger or dinosaur, porcelain dolls holding parasols, cheap mass-produced figurines holding signs saying ‘TE AMO’, souvenirs from sea-side resorts made from tiny shells, faded plush toys, ARGH… I told Pablo, maybe he could buy them from San Telmo and export them to Chile.

That evening, I had an appointment with Claudio, whom I met in Mendoza. Yes, Claudio of the 1938 Chevrolet fame. I told him I would give him a call around 9pm and we would arrange where to meet. But I tried and tried and tried his cell phone and I kept getting no reception.

Frankly, I was a little frustrated. Disappointed, I plodded back to my hostel. To my surprise, I spied a 1938 Chevrolet parked in front of my hostel. I felt the boot, still warm. Claudio was coming down the hostel just as I was hurrying up to look for him. It was also great to meet up with him again.



Buenos Aires, ARGENTINA - 24 march 2003

I was really sewing up all my loose ends here in Buenos Aires. The other friend I had to meet… Francisca, yes, la chica loca.

She was now learning circus acrobats and juggling so that she could go and perform them in front of stopped traffic, she explained. Yeah, that sort of busking was rather common here in South America. She was also making candles and tie-dye skirts to sell.

She would dye one skirt for me today. Great, I get to choose the colour too. The skirt had to be worn from head-down. The skirt she had selected for me was a little small. No Argentinians would be able to fit into it, she told me. Maybe I could. Well, it got stuck at my breast level and I had to deflate them slightly to yank it down. I must never put on any weight in the future. But, it was really nice, especially as it was made by a wonderful friend. How I would miss her when I leave.

When we parted ways late that night, she kept saying she still could not believe that I would really, really be gone from Buenos Aires soon. Somehow, we had the feeling that we would see each other again. Yeah, I felt that way too.

I would definitely return to Argentina one day. The warm affection not just from her, but from her friends… and from precious Pablo and his family members were uncomparable. I tried to imagine introducing them to my family and friends if they ever come to Singapore. And I seriously doubt my family and friends would be able to give them the same level of warmth, affection and hospitality I got from them. It is not that my family and friends are not nice. It is just a different culture. Asians are really a lot more reserved, distant, restrained and they tend to keep a respectful distance until some time later. Here, Argentinians are just overflowing with affection.



Buenos Aires, ARGENTINA - 25 march 2003

As I had barely eaten anything yesterday at Francisca’s house, I was famished this morning. OK, one alfajor please.

Gosh, I had just a few days left in Argentina. I counted my remaining pesos and my Argentinian assets stood at 40 pesos.

Remember the bunch of souvenirs I bought and which Pablo refused to look at? I had to send those back. I feared the worst, heading to the Post Office. To my supreme astonishment, it was a breeze. The Customs Officer barely glanced at my souvenirs and gave it an OK at once. I had brought along brown paper and tape, but those were not required. The guy who did the weighing, helpfully taped up my box without fuss. Now, this is what I call - happy postal workers. It was grossly expensive but I had no choice, I could not carry everything. Surprisingly, I could pay with MasterCard too.

So, now, without withdrawing any more pesos, I really only had 40 pesos for the next three days. I wanted to go to Tigre tomorrow and I needed to save some pesos for my taxi ride to the airport the day after. I deducted those from my 40 pesos, and budgeted some for my trip to Tigre tomorrow and realised I would be left with 3 pesos today.

3 pesos??? That's US$1. I was still hungry now. I had a packet of rice in my bag. Alright, I decided to cook rice and eat it plain for sustenance. After the first plate, I was still hungry and weak. So, I cooked another plate. Plain rice was actually quite disgusting to Latin Americans. Well, I survived them. What can I say? I am Chinese afterall.



Buenos Aires, ARGENTINA - 26 march 2003

Tigre is in the northern end of Buenos Aires. It felt a little strange to emerge from the bustling, polluted Buenos Aires centre and arrive at the clean, tranquil, modern suburb of Tigre.

Tigre is a delta region and is criss-crossed by rivers and made up of islands everywhere. Some called it the ‘Venice of South America’. No, it did not feel quite like that to me. I took a boat-ride and we passed by houses with, instead of garages, their personal docks in front, for here, the only means of transportation was by boats. It was a lovely place and a lovely day. I spent a quiet time on one of those islands, reading, taking in the sun and supplying blood to the mosquitoes.

I was to meet Pablo today at Plaza de Mayo… my final farewell to my favourite Argentinian, my wonderful, best friend from my trip. He really made a difference to how I saw things around me and how I travelled.

I had met his niece and nephews for a few days around Christmas last year, just before I left Buenos Aires. I had thought they would not remember much about me but Pablo told me that they asked about me often and even invented a song for me, something like ‘Trisha Trisha…’. My jaws dropped when I heard this. I had never, never, never ever been so honoured and touched in my entire life! Such ANGELS!! I really did not understand how I deserved this.

Well, Pablo did not remember the lyrics. He said he would ask his nephews to write to me. How sweet they are all to me.

I made them a present. I used the photographs I took of them during the Christmas celebration and made a montage on a poster. The montage had the shape of Argentina. My angel Nicolás grins from Iguazú. Pablo’s parents, Virgilio and Ana Maria, are at Missiones. Sweet Natalia looks up from Salta and Jujuy. Shy Matias shows off his football at Mendoza. Cheeky Emiliano sticks his tongue out at Córdoba. Pablo’s sister Gabriela, brother Sergi and in-laws Raúl and Fabiana ham it up at Bariloche. Little Tomás poses at Puerto Madryn. Pablo is located at Calafate, Chaltén. And the very handsome Santiago swings his tennis racket at the other side of the wind-swept southern Patagonia, around Comodora Rivadavia, I supposed. A group photo at Ushuaia and Tierra del Fuego and a picture of Pablo and I at Islas Malvinas (or Falkland Islands, the Argentinians still maintain they are theirs, I agree with them).

I asked Pablo how he felt when his 8-month trip was coming to an end, how he felt right after it ended, and how he felt now. He tried to share as much as possible. He said I might plunge into a state of depression one day, just as he had. He said I should write to him when I felt that way and he promised to try and console and help me to get over it. I really had cold feet now. My one-year trip… now, just one month left. I could not believe it!

Parting with Pablo was a difficult. But, somehow, we also had the feelings that we would see each other again. Such is life. Everything is a cycle. Something must end, in order for something else to begin. Sometimes, certain thing comes back in a circle. Other times, they branch off into other paths.

Returning to Buenos Aires was a very personal thing to me. (I am sorry if I had bored readers to tears with these last days in Buenos Aires.) Returning to Buenos Aires was like completing a smaller circle, inside my wider circle of my round-the-world trip. What would returning home be like? Gosh, what is home? Home can be anywhere now.

I had seen and done so many things, I had previously thought not possible. Breathing in the sprays of Iguaçu Falls, trekking on the Perito Moreno glacier, naïvely doing the Torres del Paine hike by myself and not dying, hiking up that Villarrica volcano in horrible weather and not dying again, twisting my way in and out of altiplanos and seeing vicuñas, visiting the sarcophagi in Chachapoyas… I recall the words a friend once told me, “You can do anything you want as long as you set your mind to it.” There.