I remember grinning ear to ear too when the plane touched down, heart racing that I had the courage to go on such an adventure. It was July 2008. I had quit my programming job in Houston and planned to stay here a few months just to see what it was like, not exactly as a tourist. I had never really visited any other country outside the US, let alone BA. My only Spanish was in high school way too long ago to be of much use.
The taxi ride set things off to a shaky start. The driver didn't turn on the clock and overcharged me upon arrival at the room I'd be renting. My bags were in front and I tried to reach up and push my bags out onto the street and he grabbed my hand not allowing me to open the door. I was to stay with a friend's mother who I had never met but had lived here about 8 years. I just wanted to go in and ask if the price of the taxi was correct or not but I couldn't just jump out and do so for fear of my bags being stolen. I wanted to deck the guy when he grabbed my hand, but had no idea if the price was true or what the consequences would be of starting a fight, so I just swallowed my pride and paid him ($180 pesos as I recall). He turned around to *count* the money and switched out a 100 peso for a 10. I was certain what I had handed him and started yelling at him (incoherently - the first of many encounters where I found the thing you might miss the most when you don't know a language is you can't argue effectively), and he suddenly turned into my nicest best friend and took my bags out like a gentleman.
When I went to the door of this beautiful little house in Monserrat, an old man with serious face like Lurch answered the door. He showed me my room and then showed me the door to the back part of the house and told me to never come back there. It had a kind of Vincent Price quality to it - "you must never open this door". He said my friend's mom wasn't feeling well, and she'd talk to me when she was feeling up to it. If I was bored I could walk over to the plaza in front of Congreso, which was about 8 blocks away. Walking about the neighborhood was amazing. I was really lucky to end up here in such a centrally located zone, close to puerto madero, san telmo, easy access to subway lines, etc. The weather was colder than I expected though. The old woman didn't come out to greet me that day, and I spent a cold night with no heat in the house, wondering what I'd gotten myself into.
The old couple were both in their early 80s. She was drinking one or two big bottles of wine every day, and would once a week or so get totally plastered. She was sweet when sober, but would turn into the archetypal condescending arrogant American tourist when drinking. After 8 years here she still knew hardly a word of Spanish. I quickly discovered that accepting any invitation to go out and see the sights with them would not turn out well. She would also tend to get paranoid about her money and her stuff, but dangerously careless as well, the worst case example being the time left that house, walking around drunk with the title to her property and a bunch of money and got lost. Luckily somebody decent found her and gave her a ride back to the house. Her boyfriend was an old school tangero, well educated but with kind of a sketchy background. He didn't really have any money of his own or place to go and she held it over him, treating him like a butler, and kicking him out and changing the locks whenever he got unruly. He had some interesting stories or tall tales to tell of the days of old here in BA. I'll never be able to guess where fact ended and fiction began. I got caught up in this situation for some time because she was renting me the room at such a great price, but also because she had this kind of vulnerability about her, and I felt a bit like somebody should be keeping an eye on her because she was reaching the point where it was not really feasible for her to stay here on her own and safely take care of herself.
So in this context I was trying to get by with my very poor Spanish, and finding that total immersion was not really panning out for me to make any substantial progress with that. It took me some time to get some basics worked out like internet so I could do a bit of contract work, how to go and buy the necessities, how to navigate the city, etc.. I do remember moments even in that 1st day when I wondered what I had gotten myself into. There were a few idiotic presuppositions that had to get shattered to pieces right away - that anything South of the US was tropical, that all latino cultures have spicy foods and I dunno... Tejano culture went all the way from Houston to the tip of South America. Things were pretty shaky until I found a friend a few blocks away who could be my mentor, answer questions, help me with some of the things I really couldn't manage yet like getting internet and where to find certain things. I think my enjoyment and sense of feeling at home in BA happened gradually. I felt a warmth, beauty, and energy about the city right away, but it was not until I developed a circle of friends and finally met my wife that I really began to feel at home.
Congrats Gringoboy on the anniversary of your arrival!!
edit - celebration rather - guess I misread, anyway - cheers!
) on a more than 24 hour long trip.
