Things to bring home

 

This time, BA doesn’t seem so busy– probably because I’m seeing it from a bus seat, not from a speeding Renault. Or maybe because I can more or less understand things, questions, buses, etc. We go from one airport to the other at a snail’s pace. Which is good. I’m already sentimental about leaving Argentina. I have a little handmade bracelet of blue and white, which is supposed to remind me when I get home about this place. I love it here. It’s like home in the mixta, the vibrant young energy, but it’s laid back and far more forgiving. F once told me, “I could be happy with two pesos in my pocket” and I believe him. And I think about that a lot, how our North American culture values objective achievement, and the pressure to succeed just weighs on me, an unemployed houseguest-of-friends-and-relatives, sheepish eater of other people’s peanut butter. I’ve never been good at achieving. Objective things, I mean. I’d like to just live like a Patagonian. Where if you have a mate and a friend, it’s a good day.

So tonight, we wait for our red-eye home. We are drinking away our last few pesos, which doesn’t go far in this airport bar. The sky is blue and white.

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~ by maiapatagonia on December 3, 2009.

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