Saturday, June 11, 2011

This will be my last entry about my South American travels [for this year at least] as I am safely back in my home in Littleton, Colorado for the remainder of the summer.

My last few days in Buenos Aires were spent in cafes and with friends. With my remaining pesos, I bought my roommates and myself a kilo of ice cream from Freddo, which we ate together in our kitchen right out of the bucket, a spoon for each of us. We continued speaking three different languages and even invented a name for whatever it is we speak when we mix the three together, including our errors. We call it LMNOP because I told them that I have met kids in the states who, when learning the alphabet, say l-m-n-o-p so fast that they think it's its own letter. My last morning in BsAs, my roommates repaid my ice cream treat with a treat of their own: one dozen pastries from my favorite medialunas place. We ate them together before I packed and prepared to leave.


I also spent some wonderful time with Tayla. On Tuesday I went over to her apartment where she made me more traditional Brazilian food including my new favorite thing, farofa.
We went shopping for an anniversary gift for her boyfriend and talked about the ways we each find happiness in our lives. Wednesday afternoon, right before I had to grab a taxi to the airport, Tayla took the subte from her place to the hostel to say goodbye. But there was nothing sad about it because if there's anyone from that continent that I will always see again, it's her. We are bound by something I cannot explain. And by love.

I said goodbye to Carmen, my hostel mom, and took a taxi to the airport. On the plane, I sat next to an adorable old Argentinian woman who took care of me on the flight. My immediate reaction to an airplane seat is to fall asleep, so I always miss dinner and breakfast on on my international flights. But my airplane grandma [that's what I've decided to call her] opened my tray table and turned on my light when dinner was arriving as a way to make sure I woke up and ate. She did the same thing at breakfast. She didn't speak much English so we spoke in Spanish the whole flight as she told me about her beautiful children and grandchildren and about her apartment in Buenos Aires. We watched the incredible sunrise over the Texas landscape from the plane and parted ways at customs. After I said my last "ciao" to her, I was officially back in the United States, English language and all.

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