Quality Of Life In Usa Vs. Argentina

Whilst Ajo redefines his position as top tr-oll here and I reflect on what I had in the UK before I came here to be with the woman I love, I'm certainly not about to ditch what little (in comparison) we have here in terms of toys, which are harder to acquire for all the reasons we are familiar with.
For the moment, happiness for me is a long ride into the outback on my motorbike which feels like flying a plane and then returning contented to recount the adventure with my lady over a couple of drinks and a choripan.
 
Is gas and electrical service considered materialistic stuff? They are in short supply or non-existent in this household in the dead of Winter. Quality of life in Argentina sucks.
 
If I measure material happiness in carne y cabernet I have nothing to complain about. I had a bagel with fresh gravlax and cream cheese for breakfast. Lunch was a fresh slaw with wasabi dressing and a salmon filet marinated in soya and ginger crusted with lino seasamo and panko
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And dinner was a light picada of local and imported charcuterie and cheese. All told less expensive than in the US.

Who cares about the price of a big mac
 
Tomorrow I will be back in BsAs after a month in Italy. I have wanted to write about this every other day, but what would have written the day after I landed would have been opposite to what I was about to write on week 1.

First, it struck me the level of wealth in Europe. During this small trip I visited Madrid, London and Milan. I landed in Madrid first thing and I felt like a child in Disneyworld. I kept watching my back and was afraid to take out my mobile phone to check out for info on the public WiFi, I was afraid to take off my backpack or to open it in public. Then I saw everybody else doing it and happily tagged along.

Second, I was appalled by how such trivial things can "spoil" the day of a wealthy European. They want everything to be perfect, spotless, on time, cheap and fast. They want to have all sort of info available to plan in advance, schedule, rearrange, find the best price/deal/timing - if something get screwed, they literally lose their mind to it. I was happy with things just being "safe" and there.

Third, given the fact that Europeans have available all of the modern world technologies and discoveries, I was surprised to find out that their level of life enjoyment has not increased with technology improvements. Yes, you can do tons of things with your fingertip, you can shop from a gazillion of websites. Yet, your life isn't any better than if you were in LatAm.

Fourth, I heard stories of mental struggles, suicides, betrayals, financial issues, mid-life crisis happening at 30 y.o. and a lot of fuzzy family situations. The more complex the life, the more complex the problems.

In the end, I am happy to go back to Argentina, where things are lesser and people live happier.
 
Serafina

When I am in California, I am one of those that wants things "[background=rgb(252, 252, 252)]to be perfect, spotless, on time, cheap and fast. They want to have all sort of info available to plan in advance, schedule, rearrange, find the best price/deal/timing "[/background]

[background=rgb(252, 252, 252)]When I am in Argentina, I have learned to accept things as they are. The painting job was terrible, so be it. The closet door does not close, so be it. The bathtub does not drain properly, so be it, etc. Things that I would NEVER accept back in California, I find myself here accepting. Two different worlds, two different mentalities. Which is better? Let's say, different![/background]
 
Indeed. Argentina has a way or raising one's level of acceptance! :rolleyes: Well, I got more warm hugs during my first 2 days in BA than I do in London per whole year. Plus, talking about quality of life, siesta is priceless. For me, it's all the "onda" :wub: And yes, I have also seen cleaner streets elsewhere.
 
true happiness = Marmite

and vice versa

(for non Brits Marmite is black (yeasty) gold made of happiness (and yeast) which you spread on your toast)

Give me a family jar of Marmite and I swear I could sit through a Cristina cadena national without tearing shit up.
 
true happiness = Marmite

and vice versa

(for non Brits Marmite is black (yeasty) gold made of happiness (and yeast) which you spread on your toast)

Give me a family jar of Marmite and I swear I could sit through a Cristina cadena national without tearing shit up.

Marmite or vegemite or dulce de leche? I'm unable to decide which is the most foul.
 
It would take more than a jar of Marmite to suffer that mate!
I just remembered that i also have some Bovril squirrelled away somewhere.
 
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