We also visited her boyfriend at the Winery where he works. I spotted this tiny metal guy on a bicycle on one of the wine displays and became a little homesick for my Bianchi.
A funny story from today:
The cafe in which I usually spend rainy afternoons was closed because today is Argentina's día de independencia. So I walked a couple blocks and found an open cafe [there's a cafe on almost every street corner in this neighborhood]. I ordered a small breakfast of tostadas with jam, jugo de naranja, and café con leche. After quite awhile of reading and writing, I was hungry for lunch, so I ordered a caprese salad. There were several people in the cafe at this point, drinking coffee and whatnot. I figured the waiter would just bring me a nice tiny salad and I'd continue reading. Instead, he brought out a big white table cloth, a wine glass, fancy salt and pepper shakers, and a basket of bread with something that was neither butter nor cream cheese and transformed my little wooden cafe table into my own personal fine dining extravaganza [or, you know, something like an extravaganza]. It looked ridiculous compared to all the normal, quiet tables of the other patrons. I couldn't bring myself to read while eating after that because my little dining area no longer felt like an appropriate reading atmosphere. And the thing is, unexpected stuff like this happens all the time here. Sometimes I wonder if there's even a concept of consistency in Buenos Aires. Not there there's anything wrong with that.
I've spent the entire evening in my room with my two roommates speaking in English, Spanish, and Portuguese about everything. We've been teaching each other our native languages, listening to Katy Perry [because everyone here LOVES her], and drinking mate. And honestly, this has been the best night I've had here so far. I love exploring and taking pictures of beautiful places and getting lost, but even more than that, I love talking to strangers about our lives with the distance inherent in speaking a different language.