A year ago today we left Argentina to return to the US and I've wanted to write a post since we've left.
The only reason I ever came to Argentina was for the love of my life. I met her online, fell for her and came to visit her for a month almost a year after we met. Three months after I came home, on black Friday I took another flight to BA.
That time I ended up staying for almost two and a half years.
I won't bore you all with the details, but a lot of bad things happened, and a lot of wonderful things happened. The good things, although they were fewer in number, infinitely outweigh the bad things.
I got married in Argentina. I became a father in Argentina.
After so much time I got annoyed by the day to day bothers of life in Buenos Aires. I won't list them here because you know what they are already. I wore me down. I was ready to leave by the time my wife's visa was approved.
But I miss it. I would not rather be living there now, but I do miss it.
I can say that I miss the mercados, the empanadas, milanesa, Sunday asado, greeting people with a kiss on the cheek, the ease of getting around on the bus, but none of those are really why I miss it.
From the first taxi into the city to the taxi that dropped us off at Ezeiza, I have been captivated by it. There was just something that sucked me in. I could walk down the same street every day for a year and every day I would see something new. Every few blocks you have another panaderia and mercado and countless kioscos, each one of which has a character all its own. The stores here in the United States are all the same. You've been to one Harris Teeter and you've been to them all.
Every time I left the house to go somewhere, I never knew what to expect. Would there be a strike or concert somewhere that would make me have to get creative in my commute? How long would I have to wait for the bus at 2am? Five minutes? Fifty? And again, I rode the same bus for a year, looked out the same window at the same route through the city and I always always saw something new.
And there are the people. Even if you don't talk to the people, just sit on a bench in a park and watch. People from all walks of life are remarkably similar in Buenos Aires. They all partake of the same things. Sunday asado, drinking mate in the park with friends, playing futbol, and so on. Rich, middle class, poor, very poor, for the most part, they are so similar. You don't see that here in the US.
Every taxi driver was different. For every driver who tried to drive us in circles, we had one who genuinely wanted to talk to us and share life's stories. There was the 10 block roller coaster taxi ride where the driver floored it from every stoplight. And we hit all five lights red in those 10 blocks. I was sick for an hour. And then there was the craziest ride of my life when my wife's water broke and the remise driver took it upon himself to be our ambulance. A trip that usually took 45 minutes took 15. He gave me a dirty orange hand towel to hold out about the car and he laid on the horn. At one point we were going the wrong way down Avenida de los Incas. Needless to say, he got a generous tip.
I could go on and on and on. I could talk about how every restaurant's empanadas are different and how each panaderia's facutas were different. I will tell you that the best facuras I had were from Panaderia La Paz in Nunez on Cuba between Quesada and Ibera. They were EXCELLENT.
I know it seems like I am only remember the goods things. I remember the bad ones, which is why I am glad that I am here in the US. My life is certainly easier here. My job is more consistent. My family is here. There are less day to day troubles here.
But Buenos Aires captured a place in my heart. I am not well traveled. Outside of the US, I have been to Argentina and Uruguay. But I've never been to a place like BA. The city is alive, it has a pulse. You never know what it will do next. You never know who you'll meet or even where you will end up.
I didn't love every minute of my time in Buenos Aires, but I love Buenos Aires. I am glad, at this point in my life, that we are not living there, but we will be back.
To everyone who complains all the time, I get it. I understand. I was one of you. I complained all the time about this and that. But take it from me, someone whose life if easy and boring now, enjoy it while you are there.
I still can't believe I did it. That I moved 5000 miles away from home, from everything I knew, and not knowing more than a few words of Spanish, to Buenos Aires. Even after a year being back in the US, I can't believe it.
Crazy
The only reason I ever came to Argentina was for the love of my life. I met her online, fell for her and came to visit her for a month almost a year after we met. Three months after I came home, on black Friday I took another flight to BA.
That time I ended up staying for almost two and a half years.
I won't bore you all with the details, but a lot of bad things happened, and a lot of wonderful things happened. The good things, although they were fewer in number, infinitely outweigh the bad things.
I got married in Argentina. I became a father in Argentina.
After so much time I got annoyed by the day to day bothers of life in Buenos Aires. I won't list them here because you know what they are already. I wore me down. I was ready to leave by the time my wife's visa was approved.
But I miss it. I would not rather be living there now, but I do miss it.
I can say that I miss the mercados, the empanadas, milanesa, Sunday asado, greeting people with a kiss on the cheek, the ease of getting around on the bus, but none of those are really why I miss it.
From the first taxi into the city to the taxi that dropped us off at Ezeiza, I have been captivated by it. There was just something that sucked me in. I could walk down the same street every day for a year and every day I would see something new. Every few blocks you have another panaderia and mercado and countless kioscos, each one of which has a character all its own. The stores here in the United States are all the same. You've been to one Harris Teeter and you've been to them all.
Every time I left the house to go somewhere, I never knew what to expect. Would there be a strike or concert somewhere that would make me have to get creative in my commute? How long would I have to wait for the bus at 2am? Five minutes? Fifty? And again, I rode the same bus for a year, looked out the same window at the same route through the city and I always always saw something new.
And there are the people. Even if you don't talk to the people, just sit on a bench in a park and watch. People from all walks of life are remarkably similar in Buenos Aires. They all partake of the same things. Sunday asado, drinking mate in the park with friends, playing futbol, and so on. Rich, middle class, poor, very poor, for the most part, they are so similar. You don't see that here in the US.
Every taxi driver was different. For every driver who tried to drive us in circles, we had one who genuinely wanted to talk to us and share life's stories. There was the 10 block roller coaster taxi ride where the driver floored it from every stoplight. And we hit all five lights red in those 10 blocks. I was sick for an hour. And then there was the craziest ride of my life when my wife's water broke and the remise driver took it upon himself to be our ambulance. A trip that usually took 45 minutes took 15. He gave me a dirty orange hand towel to hold out about the car and he laid on the horn. At one point we were going the wrong way down Avenida de los Incas. Needless to say, he got a generous tip.
I could go on and on and on. I could talk about how every restaurant's empanadas are different and how each panaderia's facutas were different. I will tell you that the best facuras I had were from Panaderia La Paz in Nunez on Cuba between Quesada and Ibera. They were EXCELLENT.
I know it seems like I am only remember the goods things. I remember the bad ones, which is why I am glad that I am here in the US. My life is certainly easier here. My job is more consistent. My family is here. There are less day to day troubles here.
But Buenos Aires captured a place in my heart. I am not well traveled. Outside of the US, I have been to Argentina and Uruguay. But I've never been to a place like BA. The city is alive, it has a pulse. You never know what it will do next. You never know who you'll meet or even where you will end up.
I didn't love every minute of my time in Buenos Aires, but I love Buenos Aires. I am glad, at this point in my life, that we are not living there, but we will be back.
To everyone who complains all the time, I get it. I understand. I was one of you. I complained all the time about this and that. But take it from me, someone whose life if easy and boring now, enjoy it while you are there.
I still can't believe I did it. That I moved 5000 miles away from home, from everything I knew, and not knowing more than a few words of Spanish, to Buenos Aires. Even after a year being back in the US, I can't believe it.
Crazy
