My time here is winding down. As my family left yesterday, I realized that I have only one month left living in this city. That's four weeks; that's four weekends. That's too short of a time, especially when I'm just starting to know my way around. So I've begun to build a list of all the stuff I want to experience before I have to return to the US. I'm not going to share the list here though.
I think it's better if I make a post about each thing I do rather than focus on all the tasks as a whole. That would seem overwhelming and, if I've learned one thing while living in Argentina, it's to just go with the flow. I may not be able to get it all done, but I will be happy either way.
A good example of going with the flow came last night. I went to Spanglish Exchange and saw a few familiar faces. There were fewer English speakers, so I got to speak with dos porteños each rotation. I had some great conversations, my favorite of which was a comparison of American blues to Tango in Buenos Aires. The similarities are actually quite striking. In the middle of the conversation, we had to switch languages, which I think really brought the whole point home in my mind.
Afterwards, most of the people actually stuck around and we all hung out. I think spending time with groups of Porteños is more fun, since everyone naturally speaks in Spanish. We ordered pizza, had a few drinks and then, around 2 am, left for a party someone's friends were at.
This party was at a cultural center in Belgrano. It wasn't really a bar, I was told, but it had two bars across three floors and plenty of drunk people, so you could see where I was confused. The lowest floor was more of a dance party - there were projectors of visuals and loud music. Not really my scene.
The second floor was very hip - there was art on display in a room where everyone was sitting on the floor, drinking beer. The other room on this floor had a projector contraption set up, with a bowl of colored bubbly water, a magnifying glass and straw. People were blowing bubbles, swirling the bowl around and messing with the magnifying glass to project a liquid pattern onto the wall. Groups of two or three sat on the floor, watching the wall and talking about god-knows-what. It was apparently called a Jam Audiovisual.
The third floor was the best. It was a patio with a bar and a lot of people. There was no music, only conversations and chain-smoking locals. I hung out there for a few hours, talking about music and art, turning down cigs and sharing large bottles of beer. I got tired and took a cab home (since I had no idea where I was) around 4:30. I chatted with the cabbie, got home and crashed.
It was a great night, a fun adventure with no plan, no goals, and living in the present. As I think about my remaining time in this city, I see the importance of keeping this attitude in place. If I live deeply in every moment, through every experience on my list, I'll be able to leave the city without any regrets, simply continuing the adventure.