🇦🇷 Buenos Aires - Cementerio de la Recoleta & Getting from Point A to B - 03.24.23

More adventures of getting from A to B… I met some folks for lunch at a Thai restaurant yesterday, which had no Thai people, but I was happy to have some variation in diet from the “do you want some bread to go with your bread?” Buenos Aires diet. I enjoyed sitting patiently and listening to the Castellano Spanish conversation as I ate my red curry that was more green than red… but still delish, and it’s not bread.

I had important things on the mind so I was anxious to break out of the lunch group. I passed an art supply store the other day and wanted to pop in because the following day is a holiday and I don’t need any art supplies, but I WANT art supplies. And if you “know”… art stores… small, big, dark, bright and everything in between is like a little piece of heaven/legend/Etiopía… all smashed into one dreamy experience.

I so enjoyed interacting with the employees, practicing my Spanish and all of them seem to understand the elevated excitement in one’s vibration when picking out Windsor Newton watercolor ‘half-pans’ in all the colors of the universe. “That one… and that one… and that one… and 🥰

Anybloop, I maintain my lifelong streak of never entering an art store without leaving with something. I skipped to the bus stop with my new paints because I wanted to visit the “Cementerio de la Recoleta.” Eva Peroné rests there and it’s a must-stop for the Buenos Aires tourist.

I found my stop... I need bus #110.. and I have my Subte Card. I have been on the subway but this is the first bus I would take (with the exception of standing at a bus stop in the boonies holding my chapstick and it never showed up). They’re usually packed and I’m happy to walk but this is farther than I like so I need a ride. The BA people stand in a single file line at the bus stop in a very polite and civilized manner… so I took my place in line and waited.

The bus arrived and we all crammed in… one after the other. My stupid Subte card wasn’t working and I’m like “ohhhh… hell no!” The bus is moving… the driver says something… then five ladies, ranging in age from 28-65 start blaring at me… all 5!!! I’m looking at one, then the other, then the other, and then the bus driver… and he’s grinning and looking like “you’re in the shit now!”

I managed to get out “I only speak a little Spanish!!!” Then… in unison… the undulating vibration of multiple voices focused into one question “WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!?”

“Ummmm ummm… I forget… where am I going??? THE CEMETERY!!!”

One lady said “Recoleta?!?”

“Yes! That one! Thank you! Thank you nice lady!!”

Total eruption! “You’re supposed to go the other way!!!” “There’s your stop over there!!””I will tell you where to go!!!” “You will be safe!””why don’t you have a lady wife?!?” “You are lost! Very, very lost!!!”

- I look back and forth… at each woman as they speak (all at the same time for the record) and then… once again… I look over at the bus driver… that dude is still grinning away. I’m thinking “need a little help here bro…”

Then… in the midst of the volley of ’where to be, and where not to be’… I heard “where are you from?” Now… fundamentally I know the answer… but it’s also a confusing question at the moment and I don’t know where I’m from… but I answered “California.”

More eruption!!! “That’s beautiful!!!” they cried… and on and on…

Now… I never sensed any aggression in theirs tones… just City vibration and concern in their inflections… and I was able to finally focus on just three of the voices… and acknowledged the instructions and thanked all of them for helping me and I stated, what I state often “yo soy nuevo aquí!” (I’m new here!) they all laughed and smiled and the bus stopped and I walked off with the eldest of the women who said “my country is crazy” as she circled her finger around her ear (universal for “ca-razy”). I told her that everywhere is crazy!!! Everywhere, good lady!!!!

So… the lovely bus women of Buenos Aires ushered me off the bus and in the right direction in an endearing way… like a baby bird… like a little lost California baby bird.

I got to the right stop and watched my bus drive past without me. Enough of this mush… an Uber is $5US anywhere… so I requested a car. I was standing on a side street waiting and this lady walks by and all snippy like says “no parada aquí! No parada a colectivos!” I knew what she was saying and I knew what she meant by saying it… and I tell ya people… a “Karen” in Buenos Aires, is exactly like a “Karen” in the good ol’ United States of the Americas… same snotty inflection and facial expressions and everything. And so… I react as I would in that situation at home. I pretended she was a Leprechaun and didn’t hear what she said and stood my ground and waited for my fkg ride. “She doesn’t own the sidewalk!”

Juan was my driver and he picked me up in front of “Karen’s (verb)” garage door and sped off. A dude in his early 30s prolly… he took off, weaved in and out of cars, ran stop signs and lights, jumped ahead of traffic in the turn lanes and then squeezed in past everyone, edged pedestrians and bicyclist as they crossed our path… all seemed to be far from legal but all was very controled and I was thoroughly impressed. I didn’t interrupt him with conversation because he was ultra focused on getting me to my destination in the shortest amount of time. Works for me… when we stopped i made sure to compliment him… a sincere compliment at that… “conduces excellente.” He turned and looked at me square in the face, “gracias!… Muchas gracias…” It was a look like… he knows he drives the hell out of that car but he doesn’t get validation for it. I can’t say it made his day… but it made me feel good to think it did… and I strolled around the cemetery… quite happy to be vertical and alive.

Hey friends… compliments, kindness and compassion are things. They go a long way. Positives bring positives… says this California/Colorado baby bird.

💙🇦🇷🙏