Giving me strength

---

I have to be honest. This thing I am doing is hard. But hard isnt the right word. It is more than hard. It is

difficult
painful
lonely
painstaking
ruthless
desperate
frustrating
....

and heartbreaking

There have been other difficulties too.

Mainly that I love Buenos Aires.

Today I rode the subway up to Villa Crespo for my first Spanish class. My face was drawn and I looked at people accompanied with someone else. I envied every single couple of friends or lovers because they had something that I didn´t...a coupledom. Oh how lonely lonely lonely my heart was crying!

How much I wanted to give up today.

How I wanted to fly home and gorge myself on blackberries and get my feet so dirty I couldnt reconize them.

But there is this problem.

I am a vicious woman when I want to be (like listening to an Argentine tonight tell me that teaching here wasn´t really work...it is vacation. The waters started to churn and my face turned dark... When he asked what I did in The States I said "teach English" his opinion started to change. This is when Alassandro started to feel the dark storm that was brewing in me and told his friend to stop while he was ahead.) Yes, yes, yes I can be a vicious woman when I want to be....throwing myself into battle, aware that I have an achillese (sp) heel and protecting it with steel braces. I am not going to give up on this battle.
Si, si estoy vaga (I am lazy) but when I want to fight I fight. And inside of me for all the thoughts, lonliness, and self doubt there is another part of me sharpening my claws....not wanting to give up without a good bloody battle.

And there is another problem....as I mentioned before....

I love this city.

I dont love the buildings, the night life, the bars, the parks, or the food so much. I dont know what it is. There is a rythem here....a rythem that I love. It pushes and pushes you until you are begging for mercy....PLEASE STOP ....but it keeps pushing you harder and harder until your legs hurt and are buckling under you...and then.....then it all stops....stops on the dime. Dead silence. Dead still. Peace. Ghost town. Dead dead dead. Rest....all you can smell are asado being cooked in every home in Buenos Aires and you are fucking cursing yourself for not thinking about going to the grocery store the night before.

This is a place where there is beauty in rotting old buildings and dodgeing poop piles and wobbly tiles in the sidewalk (that squirt water up your leg or on your shoes if you step on them) becomes a game where you feel victorious when you divert them....and you know you dont have to take steroids to win this race. This is a place where BMWs pass horse drawn carts, and where at the most unexpected place you see, out of the corner of your eye, the tender pink of a Pink Lady apple...your favorite apple....the one you havent had in over 9 months. This is a place where you find new things everyday, on streets you go down at least 10 times a week.

The city some how comforts me. When I am feeling lonely I feel its sidewalks wrap around me like a quilt and the trees reachout and stroke my hair, while the wind whispers encouragement.

And, so while I long for home I also become aware of possibly the first place I have ever truly loved...loved for what is not only offered but loved for what it has given me.

I must also note what others have given me, not only what the city has given me.

1) Pictures of my dahlias from Lews garden, which certainly was the best part of my weekend.
2) Getting to have a lovely conversation with Edd about evolution and culture...as well as some grea lasagna.
3) The sight of little dogs in rediculous brighly colored sweaters.
4) Listening to blaring salsa music pouring out from apartments overhead and store fronts on all sides.

---

Photos

My dahlia
Lew asked me a couple of months ago what my favorite flowers were to plant in his garden. I told him dahlia...he just sent me photos today of my dahlias...how my heart sang and tears flowed

Little beewing
look at these sweet little petals....i wish i had pinkies small enough to stick into the little cups

Comments

[adriana mouzo]

If you don't really like our food!!!!
May be is becausse you were in the rong house... Give another try...our food is a little Italian ,a little Spanish,a little ...you name it!!! but when we have a Sunday lunch,we only want to be together,with friends,family and have a good time!! Whenever you are ready,come home to have lunch with us....is a little help,but it is a begining....Suerte adriana

[Auntie San]

Hang in there Liz
I know what you are going through, it is hard.. a totally different culture, language.. far away friends... made me cry to feel your pain.. glad to hear you are taking a Spanish class.. funny, I just suggested that to you in an email last night, but obviously you had already signed up for it.. hopefully you will make some friends in the class.. living with a family can be really helpful too, or maybe go to the university and see if there are any ads posted that rent rooms to students.. that is unless you are happy in your apt.. Tell Lew his flower is beautiful.. Love, Auntie San

[LEW]

HAPPY
I am so happy you are enjoying the Dahlias. I will be putting more images up on your site from time to time. I will let you know when I do. Love Lew E.

[MAD_tour]

Nice thoughts for ya
Heya being a traveller, is no holiday, it´s a journey. You have my warmest sympathies, from a fellow solo traveller/resident of BA. Your discription of BA, is beautiful, trully beautiful. This place does trully grow on you, and it beats like a strong Heart. Best karmic wishes, keep smiling.

[los dos portenos]

you are not alone
Don't worry. All my friends are in a similiar rut. We have been teaching for a while and we are simply exhausted. It is difficult going this long without a break from classes. If I could I would make you a mixed cd, but sadly my computer is no longer capable of such tasks. I will be trying to send you positive vibes though all day.