Warm, smoky, humid wind in LA, as I changed planes at LAX, and a bar staff at the airport who joked in Spanish as they changed shift. Then the long, sardine flight across the equator to first Lima, then Buenos Aires, city of Jacarundas in high bloom, traffic, curly haired taxi drivers and lovely Jocelyn and her fabulous apartment in the heart of Belgrano, a leafy neighbourhood near the centre of the city.
For a scant two weeks, I am here to drink as much red wine in brown bars as I can, tag along in Jocelyn's vida cotidiana (on Tuesday I will act as her assistant while she photographs the Ambassador of Pakistan's family (her son is a prince with two palaces), and hopefully complete a final edit of the Garry Oak book for New Star Press. Days of half work, half play.
In the meantime, the light is perfect, the temperature is a perfect 22 degrees at 7pm and I have memories of the first Argentine I saw in the airport who walked past me as I exited the security gates; he was carrying six shots of expresso in tiny dixie cups for his friends--cortados. Then there was also the sand and snow hills of the Andes and their drifts of cascading colour, the small lights of Mexican towns far below and the lovely American Customs man (who would have thought those words would go together) who let me through with four giant bottles of sunscreen in my carry-on as gifts for Jocelyn. When the city wakes again, we're going grocery shopping for ingredients for my first asada and for wine. It's nice to leap into someone else's life. It's nice to feel mine moving and find such friendliness already on the other side of the world.
Image courtesy of vtveen. www.flickr.com
1 comment:
You paint, as usual, a very vivid, humorous, and even touching picture. We revel in your words and actually vicariously experience your joy and expectations. Thank you so much for your sharing.
With love,
us'n
Post a Comment