Suddenly, it seems almost in the snap of my fingers, I awoke to the cloudless, cornflower blue summer sky in Buenos Aires city. How did I get here? Just yesterday I was suffering through another 100 degree afternoon on the farm, swatting furiously at flies and dodging the hornet swarms. And now here I sit, once more perched on a balcony overlooking a narrow, tree-lined street in BA, as though it were once more my very first moments in Argentina. It is eerie the way life seems to constantly loop back around on itself and we relive moments thought long past.
I remember how I felt last time: overwhelmed, uncertain, out of control, reckless. My Spanish didn’t extend much beyond “hola” and the numbers 1-5. The city was huge, the people entirely unfamiliar, and time seemed to stretch out infinitely in front of me. It was a feeling of freedom so vast it swallowed me up. I remember looking over at Patrick and thinking: “Thank God I’m not alone.” I remember all this now as though it were reminiscences of an old friend: gone but not forgotten. And in a way, it is.
I was a different person then, and I can see very clearly how much I’ve changed over these last eight tumultuous months. The city is still huge but it feels manageable now. My Spanish might actually be called conversational now and I don’t get a knot in my stomach when I think about navigating public transportation or asking for directions here. I have a pretty good understanding of the culture, and I’m not so preoccupied with making some kind of ghastly faux pas. I feel safe in my skin, I almost feel saavy. There is nothing here that I can’t handle. And I am alone now, in many ways. But it doesn’t feel so lonely in this bustling city with its million entertainments and nearly 14 million inhabitants. I feel content. Maybe even excited. What a new feeling (again)!
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