En la cuidad de la furia

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So I arrived to BA tired as fuck sometime around 3am. Once I was at the airport I had to pull out my Lonely Planets guide; South America on a shoestring (which by the way Stephen I hope you still have it) and started calling a bunch of hostels until I found a place to sleep for the night. After spending something like $15 on a cab I was pretty fucken broke.

I remember getting to the hostel and thanking god that they had an elevator up to the 6th floor cuz I dont think my legs wouldve made it. I was still feeling the effects of the trail and that would last about another week. So I remember saying to the guy I can only pay you for 2 nights, is there a way we can work something out? And his response was talk to Fernando later. And I said to myself, Who the fuck is Fernando?

I slept for 2 days straight, I think and didnt leave the hostel at all. I have a tendency, now that I can see this pattern, of getting into cities and not wanting to go out at all for atleast 2 days. I need to have some down time before I decide to venture out.

During the course of this I did manage to track Julian and his response was that he would be gone all summer to Mar de Plata and be back sometime in february. So going to stay with him was out of the question, and at that point I wouldve made it out to Mar de plata had I had the money for the bus.

Then I met Fernando, the manager of the hostel and I said to him, look Im out of money and I need to work and a place to stay. So he says to me very hesitant, that there looking for someone to work on the weekends friday and saturday from midnite to noon and it pays 35 pesos. Which turned out to be something like $11 and some change for 12 hours a day. Yeah, making almost a dollar an hour was not what I had in mind, but I took it anyway cuz I was desperate. Then ofcourse I had to negotiate getting a free bed aswell in the small back office. I was actually surprised he gave me the job and the free bed, since it was my first time in the city and I had no clue where anything was. He was just glad to have the weekends off and ofcourse someone who spoke English and Spanish.

After a few emails back and forth with Julian about where to find a job, he says to me I know this bar called the ALAMO its run by Americans and mostly Americans frequent this bar. Go there and find out if you can work. So I go to this bar looking for work in the middle of summer when everyone is out of the city on vacation, so business was a bit slow. So I walk in very confident hoping that I would get a break and was told to bring in my resume and then I'd here from Peter (the owner). Which by the way was total bullshit!

Later that evening I returned and met David (the bartender), and ofcourse after a few free beers we got to talking and he said he'd have a talk with Peter. And then he says to me, come by everyday and see if you could talk to Peter. So I was like ok. That was not a good idea considering that Peter did spent alot of time at the bar, but he was drunk for most of it. This ofcourse I experienced first hand once afternoon sitting at the bar for an hour with Peter drowning cockroaches in an ash tray.

The events that followed this conversation with David, are a bit unreal, and I think I should've walked out of the bar and went back to the hostel. But I sure ass fuck dont regret any of the decisions I was about to make.

So then David says to me, I've got a friend you should meet and sends over this old guy to sit next to me at the bar. And I was like uuuhhhh, ok. So the guy introduces himself as Cliff (my uncle as he would later be titled, the guys at the hostel came up with that) and is from the states and begins to tell me his life story, blah, blah, blah.

Then he starts asking me the typical questions like, so what are you doing in Buenos Aires? And ofcourse being the naive, desperate and honest person that I am I started telling him the situation that I was presently in. And like Al would say, I've got a knack for convincing people to be nice to me when I tell them how helpless am I, and some might call that MANIPULATION.

Soon after my tale of being broke and practically homeless, he says to me I live a few doors down from here, and your more than welcome to stay there if you'd like. Now mind you, I just met this man and I the only thing going through my head was NO, IM NOT GOING TO YOUR PLACE! So Im guessing by the look on my face he realized I wasnt convinced and says to me, LOOK, IM NOT TRYING TO FUCK YOU! And I thought well, that was nice of him to say. And he continues with, if you dont like it you can always come back to the bar and tell the David that I was hassling you. So ofcourse against my better judgement, I said ok and went to his place.

His place was literally doors away from the bar, this ofcourse would come back to haunt me later. So I go inside and check out his loft and it was a really nice place. And ofcourse I was checking to see if there were any cameras anywhere or men dressed in leather hiding in the closets and shit! And so he gives me a tour of the place and shows me where I would be sleeping and all that, and Im thinking to myself, I guess this could work. Except the place had one flaw, and that was, that you could see a person talking a shower from the dinning table because instead of a full wall there was a window. That would've been enough to put anyone off from staying.

And I probably shouldnt of drank the wine or taken the money that night, but he seemed to be a nice old man, and he swore he didnt want to FUCK ME! So he says to me you can stay here till you get back on your feet and the only thing you'd have to do is make a few phone calls in spanish and translate some stuff and run a few errands. Ofcourse he was one of the many owners of a magazine called METROPOLIS, that exists in Buenos Aires, Miami and New York, and so I figured that if I did choose to move in he would keep me busy. And against my better judgement I moved in the next day.

Mind you the shower thing still bothered me, so for the first few days I would wait till he left and then jump in the shower. After a while I learned never to turn the lights on in the bathroom and let the hot water run for a few minutes until it fogged up the window, then I'd take a shower with my back turned to the window. I never bothered to turn around, I wasnt about to give anyone a free show.

So my training at work wasnt much, all I had to remember was to make sure the Israeli kids didnt fall off the terrace and clean up by 6am. After watching Nano do this a few nights I realized I was being paid to drink and smoke with the guests. To make my job easier I figured over the course of the following weeks I had to get everyone stoned and send them off to bed to not have worry about dealing with super drunk people on my shift.

After a few days of work I met this guy who had the coolest spanish accent and was brought over by a former employee to hang out. Neil was cool and the first person Ive met from Iowa. In a few days Neils parents were coming to town and I wanted to go out and be a tourist with them but we seemed to be playing tag for atleast a week until I finally tracked down their hostel. Neil, if I havent said this enough, your parents rock! I dont think my parents or my friends parents for that matter would ever in a million years stay in a hostel with a bunch of college kids, props to your parents cuz they pulled it off. They were sooo cool about it when I met them that night.

Then ofcourse aside from my weekend job, I was often taken to the bar by my uncle to meet more older men. I can even say I knew the prostitutes that frequented the bar, sad but true.

Sometimes I would sit at the bar for hours and drink and listen to nonsense. Sometimes I'd get a few bucks for keeping someone company or telling them stories about me traveling with no money. Often times I'd get the same response to me having huge BALLS, for traveling the world with nothing. Lets just say I never went hungry at this bar thanks to the generosity of some of the drunken people there.

All this was going great until my uncle told me about this oklahoma boy that I was supposed to pester for a job. In all the cities I've traveled, and all the people Ive met and hung out with, I've never met anyone who can be a real asshole as much as Stephen. And that I mean in a good way, he was very straightforward and to the point, you got no bullshit from this guy. Yeah, and for the next month or so Stephen and I became unseparable best friends.

Over the course of the next few weeks the regulars at the bar were constantly wanting to know if Stephen and I had hooked up and often times people made up alot of shit. Thats the downside to frequenting a place, you cant all of a sudden be friends with someone without having slept with them, that was fucken retarded. Then again you have to remember it is a bar, most of these men are over 60 and taking viagra like they were vitamins.

My life in BA was really simple, not only would my uncle and I get up around noon, and no I never slept with him or shared a bed. I couldnt get Adam Sandlers voice out of my head from Big Daddy, about having wrinkled balls and lose skin on me. Anyways, we often had lunch at the bar and on occassions I walked around the city or walked him to the gym. By they time Stephen got off work I'd already be sitting at the bar drinking and hanging out with the other regulars. At times the bar almost felt like CHEERS, you'd go there anyway because there was nothing else to do, sometimes it got really fun, people fucking in bathrooms and late night brawls.

It definitely got better and worse when Stephen moved to the bar's upstairs flat. Worse because now I felt like I lived at the fucken bar and because there was a killer retarded dog on guard upstairs daily, that I could never seem to get passes. Better because since Stephen lived there he got free food that I always ate, thanks.

Mind you I lived really close to the famous RECOLETA cementary and I never set foot in it. I was never thrilled about seeing Eva Peron's grave, even if it was free. Nor did I pay to see a cheezy tango show at the infamous CAFE TORTONI, nor did I pay to have private tango lessons. But I did enjoy going to San Telmos flee market on sundays, man that shit streched for miles. Not to mention all the movies that Stephen and I went to see. Since Argentina was dam near a year behind in showing movies I got to see alot stuff that was nominated for an academy award.

Sometimes during the week I was asked to go back to the hostel and pick up some pot for all the old men at the bar. And my job was to sit on a toilet all night rolling a few joints for these people at the bar. Man, while staying with my uncle, there were times that I felt like I was back home in Montrose with Steven. My uncle would make us dinner and I'd sit and roll joints for him, and he'd play Pink Floyd's, Dark Side of the Moon album really loud and I'd bring him water while he chilled in his hammock. We'd stay up till 3-4am just talking nonsense about traveling the world and that was cool. Ahh, those were fun times.

Then it turned out that my connection at the hostel was actually based there and all the backpackers knew where to come from all over BA to buy from our guy. Every night we had people coming to the hostel to buy pot and coke, it was insane, because the manager was best friends with this guy.

After a few weeks into my job I decided to take a brake and head over to Santiago, Chile to meet up with the rest of the GAP group. I figured why go to Montevideo, Uruguay on a 3 hour ferry, when you can catch a 24 hour bus to Chile.

Shortly after that trip is when I had that meltdown that I ended up sending that mass email about me being stuck in BA forever and not being able to leave. But thanks to all the people who responded to that email and sent me cash, you were all fucken great!

And ofcourse there was all that bullshit about the Brazilian consulate not giving me my visa in time for Carnaval so I got fucked out of that trip. Due to the high volume of visas being requested for Carnaval the process would not take 3 days but actually 7 and I would get my passport back after the party, so I opted to cancel my trip. But it turned out to be really cool because I got to see the GAP group again only this time I didnt have to go really far to see them. It was nice to see Jackie, Ally, Sarah and Ary again, even though it was brief.

And then my Uncle decided to leave and move to the Philippines and I was a bit hesitant to find out who was moving into the loft and whether or not this person would let me still crash there. So on his last day, I finally got to meet the Nudist Painter, Dubin. I had already been told that he might ask me to pose for him in order to stay there. Well I knew a girl that worked at the bar that said she'd posed for him several times and he never asked for anything else afterward. So that was a bit of a relief, now the question would be, WOULD I HAVE THE GUTS TO TAKE MY CLOTHES OFF FOR THIS MAN?

Shortly after moving in the painter finally told me that he wanted to paint me, and would I mind? Ofcourse I was still a bit hesitant, but after a few days of staring at abstract paintings of squares and triangles that resembled a girl I said yes. Plus he was dam near blind so I figured that he wasnt going to see much anyway, as long as he kept his hands to himself.

Toward the end of my stay in buenos aires I still couldnt tell you where to go in the city or what to see, because I never left the bar or the loft as much. Then I found out that thanks to the generosity of one person, I was able to finally get my ticket from Nairobi, Kenya to London, England and I was finally ready to leave Argentina for Africa.

Let me just say that the 6 weeks I spent in BA were the best on this trip so far. There were times ofcourse that I hated being there, but I think I had this love/hate relationship with the city. I've never met more people willing to help me out, as much as they did in this city, and the phrase TRUST THE KINDNESS OF STRANGERS, has never been more real. Most people often said I'd have a great adventure story after leaving BA and its true. Im glad I met the people I did. Stephen your a great friend, thanks for all the bullshit, I had fun.

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Photos

good morning buenos aires
View from the hostel terrace during one of my shifts. This was sometime around 5am, and it was really quite at the hostel and the israeli kids hadnt come back from the clubs yet.

Hostel Days
This was by far the worse run hostel Ive ever worked at. Not to mention the hours were really shitty. But for some reason it was always inhabited by Israeli kids.

Remember the bar..........
Daily pit stop.

Uncle Cliff
So this is my famous uncle on the day he was leaving for the Philippines.

Hangin out at the loft
So by the time I took this picture my uncle cliff had already left to the philippines and the nudist painter dubin had moved in.

Shower time
Can you make out the shower cutain in the back? This was a night view from the dinning table looking into the shower.

Best friends
Stephen and I at the usual spot at the bar.

San Telmo
I was being a tourist and taking pictures at the sunday flee market down in San Telmo.

Tango Dancers
Statue almost fell over when I was trying to take a picture.

Real tango dancers
Free is always better, Im glad I didnt have to pay to see real tango dancers down in San Telmo.

Flee market
I have no idea what these are, and I couldnt read the fine print, no glasses. But it looked really cool.

Cow kissing
Yes, Im wearing a skirt. Shut up! Times like these are rare. Anyway, I went to have dinner with the group when they came to town.

Dinner with the girls
So on one of their lasts nights in town I got to say good-bye to Allison and Jackie, earlier I had taken a picture of Ary that I accidently erased before saying good bye.

Before picture
So Brent was not my tour leader, but I met him in Santiago and he was really cool for not saying anything about me crashing on Lana and Simons floor at their hotel room.

After picture
What a difference a shave makes. Doesnt even look like the same guy. I still thought he looked better with the grizzly beard.

Stop for a smoke
Yeah, Im pretty lame, I thought this sign was funny though, Stop and smoke yourself one.

Comments

[Marlon]

holy shit!
"im a nudist painter" that shit actually works?!