Ruminations

Welcome back!

As I sit typing this in my alpaca wool sweater, I can’t help thinking about how ridiculous moving to another country is.  Granted, Argentina isn’t exactly lacking in modern amenities, but there are the little things that are always funny.

Take peanut butter, for instance.  Like Spain, it doesn’t exist down here.  My friends found a couple of jars in Jumbo (massive department store) labeled from 1994, at the bargain basement price of approximately 12 USD.  Peanut butter.  I’ve also found some organic peanut butter in a gourmet outlet, but it just isn’t the same when you have to mix the oil on the top in to make it creamy.  I want my processed, Americanized Peter Pan peanut butter.  And it sadly is nowhere to be found down here.  To ship it down is also hit or miss, because customs likes to randomly open packages and then refuse to close them.  So if they randomly pick your package, you have to get to the airport ($30 taxi both ways), pay for the package (price depends on the mood of the customs agent), and then sign for it.  That’s a lot of work for peanut butter.  Still tempting though, especially if it’s crunchy peanut butter.

Same goes for spicy.  Nothing in this city is spicy.  Everything is dulled to something that only tickles your tongue.  I’ve tried a couple of Mexican places and requested my food be as hot as possible, only to be underwhelmed when they use mild salsa.  I want my spicy to make my eyes tear up and my nose run, riding the razor edge between pushing the food away because it’s so scalding and eating everything because it’s so delicious.  That’s the spicy I miss.  This problem, fortunately, has an easier solution than the peanut butter.  You can find most of the ingredients needed to make homemade salsa or guacemole in grocery stores, though the hotter chiles usually have to be bought in specialty shops.  If only I could smuggle in containers of my salsa to all the restaurants I eat at.  Rest assured, my search for spicy lives on.

Getting to said restaurants can also be an adventure, owing to the city’s public transportation.  The subway is convenient to getting around the center of the city, but is often completely packed.  Not Tokyo-style packed, but it’s definitely intimate.  Personal space doesn’t exist down here, so you have to be prepared to stand face-to-face with that businessman that just ate his ham and cheese tostada and breathes heavily.  I can still taste his breath if I concentrate.  The buses also cover most points in the city, but there’s a crisis currently gripping this fair city that my friend Julie covered well in this post on her blog.  So transportation can be hit or miss, depending on how you time it and the dietary habits of the commuters.

But despite these minor quibbles, I’m in love with this city.  I love exploring new cultures and meeting new people, and this city is so massive that I’ll be enthralled for months.  It was pretty harrowing coming down here with no real support network in place, but it has turned out great.  I’ve made friends quickly, I have a nice apartment locked down for the foreseeable future, my roomie Katie gets here next week, and I have a schedule that gives me a significant amount of freedom to wander around aimlessly, which is perfect for me.  I couldn’t imagine starting my career right now, which isn’t a swipe at my friends that have, just a reflection of where I’m at personally.  Maybe it’s just fist-month infatuation and my excitement will fade, but I honestly can’t see that happening.  I’m glad to be here.

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