Buenos Aires, A Whole New World

I woke up craving milanesa and to the sound of traffic whizzing by. I actually pinched myself and David to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. On February 22^nd exactly one year after leaving the US, I picked up my two 50 pound suitcases, boarded an airplane, and said goodbye to Chile. After a short flight, I arrived in Buenos Aires where I will be hanging my hat for the next month. I am living in an apartment with a middle-aged Argentinian woman that I met from this website http://www.coret.com.ar/ She named all of her rooms after tango songs, and mine is aptly named “cuartito azul” .

When I arrived to the apartment (on zero sleep) after moving my life from Santiago to Buenos Aires, I started to rant about how excited I was to see clouds and feel wind, and the lady looked at me like I fell off my rocker. I didn’t know it was possible to miss wind. However, after living in a smog desert for a year, I can tell you it certainly is. I’ve only been here a few days, but I am already enamored with Buenos Aires, because this city is overflowing with personality. Perhaps it’s premature, but I already have started making a list of things that BA has that Santiago didn’t have: diversity of skin color/food, free education, cheap books nearly every few blocks, art and value placed on it, music, style that isn’t from the 80s, Spanish that is laced with an Italian accent and people who don’t whisper or cut off syllables as often.

That isn't to say that Santiago has nothing to offer or that BA is perfect. Buenos Aires' streets are much more dirty, the taxi drivers drive as if they were in bumper cars, there are ridiculous rates of inflation and everything is all around more chaotic.

We are living in San Telmo, one of the most touristy areas in BA. It’s a hipster’s paradise. Today we walked through a Sunday antiques market that was filled with hundreds of people from all over the world. I saw a woman dressed up as Frida Kahlo singing, a man dressed as Charlie Chaplin, people dancing tango, and a man playing classical guitar. They were selling an assortment of things that ranged from pocket watches, to crystal glasses, to siphons, to old advertisements, to books about communism, to Panama hats. The city is enormous and it seems to have everything. The amount of excitement and life makes me dizzy. It seems to have most of the things from home I was missing without all of the anxiety and stress that the US has. I couldn’t feel more lucky to be here..

"Nothing lasts but nothing is lost"

“ ‘I know I ain’t got no talking room, but a boy like you shouldn’t be on the bum [slang for on the road with the circus]. I’ve been on the bum and it ain’t no life.’ […] ‘If you got a life to go back to I reckon that’s what you should do.’ [says Camel to Jacob] It’s a moment before I can answer. When I do, my voice cracks ‘I don’t.’ [replies Jacob the protagonist]”-Water for Elephants

I don’t think anyone moves away for a year if they have a lot tying them down. Generally, people move because they need an escape or are searching for something. Recently, I watched a movie about North American nomads that travel west. There is something very romantic and appealing about the notion of constant travel and adventure. I like the idea of floating from place to place. Journey without destination is beautiful to me. Though the more I mull over the idea, the more I realize that fear is driving me.

David pointed out that everyone in the documentary had something in common: they were all running from something. I consider myself a little bit of a travel addict. Up until recently, I always assumed it was just something innate in my bones; a congenital disease of sorts. And perhaps that is partially true. However, I am coming to realize that I fear living in a stifling box where I live for work, though I also fear unemployment. I am deathly afraid of complacency, stagnant years and predictable days. I am afraid of being tied down, wasting potential, and of no longer having dreams laden with youth. I run from normalcy and tremble at the thought of ever being considered normal.

At the same time, a part of me craves relationships that are more than transient. There are moments when I would do anything to be cradled by a comfort that can only come from familiarity that has grown over the years. As my South American adventure nears its end, I am left wondering how can I live a life of both adventure where I push my limits regularly and a life of stability and long-lasting meaning? There has to be an answer…right..right? Are my fears inevitable? Will it be just another self -fulfilled prophecy?