| Buenos Aires Arrival 2010 |
 |
 |
 |
|
Lazing on a linen couch, watching a fan blow the paper lantern in a steady sway and the sweaty day is underway without me. The morning we left, David arranged his paintbrushes in a colorful bouquet on the table, and leaning over like a near-sighted old maid picked out the one with which he'd stain a canvas into shards of kaleidoscope color. "Buena Suerte, and be well!"--we departed, sharpening our eyes and hunting summer. Leaving slumber and winter wood stoves, holiday treasure troves and snow crusted dirt roads to find another kind of inspiration. To empty the landfill in my soul, the spare coins and plastic toys, the advertising campaigns and slogans of late-- give them back to the pirates of mental space. and in the void, I rejoice. In South America I find myself a stranger. and it is lovely, no? to find oneself a stranger. January 5th, 2010.
Adrien oils his bicycle, Christopher peels his orange into citrus petals that our elbows knock accidentally to the floor. Coffee sounds like a delight, so we put the Italian espresso maker on the burner, and wait for it to boil. Soon we are cleaning up from an explosion. Tiny ink blots and henna dots of espresso grinds tattoo the kitchen walls, the stack of drying dishes, our skin, hair, clothing, our basket of fruit and onions. I listen to the sloshing of the last of the dishwashing as I journal and attack my many bug bites with my claws. Indian music dances though the air, and the sun is lazy today. That's OK with me, it's been a bit too hot, and we don't have air conditioning here. Adrian told me that the city was having a bit of an air conditioning crisis. Too many units in use, and blackouts began to occur. Prices were raised to purchase them, and the problem has been, at least temporarily, addressed. This time of year, Buenos Aires is a jungle trying to overtake the city. The mosquitoes are mutilating me. Our apartment is partly indoors, but mostly out--the living space is open to the night sky, and the flesh-colored walls are crawling with possessive vines. A steep stair with an iron railing climbs to our little room on a second story, and a terrace, perfect for grilling and gardening, on a third. Jasmin del campo bushes, Jasmin of the country, line the encasing walls of the terrace. Adrian says he prefers to keep them "violent" as opposed to trimming them. Small white flowers fall from the branches and litter the floors of every room. The space is very private from neighbors--a true oasis.The master bedroom, dining room, kitchen and bath are all isolated rooms. When it rains you must walk through the downpour to cook, pee, eat, play chess...Our second morning here I woke up early and alone to watch the day yawning over the city scape, the rain clapping down like pattycake onto the patio and living space. It is unbelievably quiet for a city dwelling. Except the cooing of birds from the neighbor's aviary, and an occasional tom cat duel, it's extremely serene. This is unusual, considering our proximity to a major street--Cordoba. Cordoba is the dividing line between the barrio (neighborhood) of Palermo (a very expensive area) and Villa Crespo (where we live.) For me, at least for now, even navigating the city is a bit meditative. Speaking practically no Spanish, my mind disregards the orchestra of surround sound conversations and advertisements. I only hear tones and pitches. The soprano speech of a wealthy woman, the baritone bartering at a fruit stand...a string section screeching from bus brakes and timpony thunder closing in on the city at sunset. Since everything scans as background music, it allows each train of thought to come to completion, never rudely interrupted by a billboard ad slogan or catcall. As I explained, we are one block from Cordoba, and yet, our street is empty. Only one car is parked on the entire block, condemned by a sign, with only the engine, frame, and a single door left hanging sadly from it's broken hinges. Small boutiques and shops are speckled about the neighborhood, and we can do our weekly shopping in about fifteen minutes, for the equivalent of twenty dollars. |
