feliz aniversario

Yesterday for about 15 minutes I focused solely on cutting a fruit salad. I was at a despedida (going away party) for my friend Michelle, and had left the table during dinner to go make my contribution to dessert. It was only when I was finishing that I realized how focused I had been on washing the fruit, peeling it, and making it into bite sized pieces. I had tuned out the room full of loud conversations, brought my eyes down to the cutting board, and simply sliced fruit while trying not to cut myself. And the thing is, it felt like it had been a while since I had been so singularly focused on something. It felt really good. I usually have my attention spread out all over the place, we all do really, or at least those of my generation and younger. When I'm on the computer, or working, or cleaning or talking to a friend, I am most likely doing at least one other thing at the same time. I've read about the ways that our culture of multi-tasking has affected the average person's ability to focus, and I definitely believe it, but don't usually think much about it (because I'm probably already busy thinking about a couple other things). But this fruit salad...it helped me. It reminded me how satisfying is is to put all my effort into one thing, even if for just a short time. It gave my mind a well-deserved rest, a little working meditation if you will, and when I looked up, things felt different.

Yesterday wasn't just the day of the fruit salad epiphany, it was also my one year anniversary with Buenos Aires. It was one year ago that I stepped off a plane after a 22 hour flight, looked around at the cold, rainy weather and the city full of unknowns, and thought, "Get me the hell out of here." I left a job, friends, family and city that I loved, not to mention the lovely Bay Area summer, and upon arrival this grandiose idea of having a South American adventure was no longer exciting. It felt overwhelming, and kind of stupid. Thankfully I hung in there, and took things a day at a time and took lots of little baby steps of faith (after that huge initial leap), and a year later I can say that it was absolutely the right choice for me to come here. I am in love with this city. In fact, my relationship with Buenos Aires has been the defining relationship of my life this year. Though it frustrates and challenges me and sometimes BA is in the doghouse, there is also care and excitement and love between us. Besides, the making up is the fun part anyway.

And so, to my beloved Buenos Aires, I thank you for giving me the opportunity to find out who I am and for giving me the space to create myself as who I want to be. And thank you too to the folks back home who might not understand this relationship, but support it all the same.

la primera

This blog is supposed to be about my life in Buenos Aires, but I am starting it 1715 kilometers away, from a small town in Patagonia called El Bolson. I arrived here alone a few days ago after 24 hours of bussing from the northeast. I'm a long way from "home," and an even longer way from my for-real home in California. The question begs to be asked: what am I doing here, in Patagonia and in Argentina generally? Answering both questions will take some time, and is actually the purpose of this blog. Honestly, I don't know exactly what brought me back to live in Argentina after living here for 5 months last year. I do have some ideas, but I process my life and thoughts by writing about them. Therefore, I hope that posting in this online version of my real-life journal will help illuminate things for me, and for my (poor) supportive family back home.

I actually started this blog a month and a half ago, but someone stopped me from sharing it. It was me, or rather the perfectionist/procrastinator side of myself that I've known well since middle school. And I'll be the first to say it: she's a bitch. She doesn't want anyone to know that thoughts don't spring from my head perfectly formed, and she works tirelessly to achieve perfection before ever sharing her stuff with the world. Unluckily, her standards are sky high and she doesn't often (or ever) reach them. But luckily for the other part of me, and for anyone back home who is interested in just what the hell it is I do down here, I've been given the perfect situation to finally start this damn thing. It's raining cats and dogs, I'm in a hostel up in the mountains with no car and nothing but time, time, time. That bitch almost got the better of me today, but then I watched "Avatar" and got all riled up by those crazy battle scenes. So, here we go.

Why come all the way across Argentina to this little hippie Patagonian town, right in the middle of the rainy season AND the off season? Short answer, I have a friend that works in a hostel and invited me to come. Long answer, I needed a break from Buenos Aires. The city that I love, that challenges and excites me, where I came to find independence and adventure, has one little problem: it drives me fucking nuts. And this isn't a new thing. It did when I lived here last year, and it does now. I came back knowing that it would drive me nuts, and I stay in spite of it. Because even though it makes me feel all off-kilter, and sometimes lonely and insecure, there is also something about it that feels familiar and welcoming, and very clearly like the place I need to be right now. I hear a lot of people say the same thing about Buenos Aires, that they both loathe and revel in its obvious insanity, and while they bitch about it, there's something in them that seems to need it. I don't think I've ever had a relationship with a place like I do with this city. I'll describe a bit about the madness I'm referring to now.

13 million people call greater Buenos Aires home, and 3 million live in the city center itself. That makes 34,800 people inhabiting every square mile within what we call Capital Federal. (Yes, I googled it.) That's HELLA people! And it really does feel like there are that many people; every building is built up with apartments, people fill the sidewalks and buses and grocery stores and parks. You are never ever alone (I mean really alone), and you never, ever hear silence. Even in my relatively quiet apartment, the vrooooom of buses outside is always present. The pure city-ness of that city can be pretty overwhelming.

Now, the sheer reality of that many people in one shared space is one thing, but this is compounded with the commonly accepted fact that porteños (people who live in BA, thus called because BA is a port city) are pretty nuts themselves. I say this with love, as someone who clearly is too for choosing to live there. I'll provide some examples as they come, but for now I'll give just one: Buenos Aires is actually the psychoanalysis capital of the world, with more shrinks than anywhere else. One of my porteño friends recently took offense when I made a joke about how Argentines love therapy, only to then ask, "What, you don't see somebody?"

So, I came here to El Bolson to get away for a bit. The time has done me well; I've been reading a lot (started and finished Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell, highly recommend), writing in my journal, hiking, thinking, enjoying the gorgeous scenery, sitting in silence, drinking mate. I think I just had to get somewhere quiet in order to hear the thoughts that are drown out by the buzz of the city. Even though I'll be surrounded by it again in a couple days, I'm really, really glad I came.