Goodbye Cristina! :(

(P.S. In one conversation, the journalist emphatically expressed disappointment that some people "just don´t get it." He gave examples about people who don´t understand that life is about the way we treat other people. Not everyone would agree with his application to particular politics and theology - I mentioned the topics earlier - but that´s not the point. It´s about treating others well. He mentioned Mormons once for instance, saying that you might "want" to dislike them, but you can´t because they´re such nice people! I think these final reflections say a lot about the man.)

Saturday 26th: I don´t remember what I did in the morning (ugh! I´m writing this over a month later. Fortunately I have some notes.) I think Monica helped me with directions, and in the evening I caught a bus to La Boca, the old port district which is reputedly rough, to meet Cristina and her relatives. I got off a little too early, and headed towards Caminito, the small touristy section. On the way, I passed the stadium of Boca Juniors, the most popular soccer team in the country I understand. Outside it, the locals were playing informal soccer games on the grass by the street. Others were sitting on chairs in the shade with refreshments watching them. It was a great sight because it seemed a genuine local cultural experience. As I hurried on through the streets, one guy called out in English, "Hello my friend. How are you? Where are you from?" or something. They seemed formulaic sentences; he probably didn´t speak the language. I wanted to meet him and his small group but was running late, so excused myself, "I´m busy. My friends [pointing]." in Spanish. People often advise you to stay out of the La Boca area (apart from the tourist area), and definitely so at night! It did clearly look more dodgy, but I didn´t have a bad feeling about this group, and it was still daylight anyway.

The buildings of Caminito are painted in very bright colours, so it was clear I had arrived. (In the past the residents had just used whatever paint was leftover from the docks.) I found Cristina with her mum, aunt, and uncle. We wandered around looking at shops, stalls, and the sights. I had a picture with a tango dancer, for a donation. After some pics, we relaxed in a nice cafe with harbour views. We took taxis to Puerto Madero, the renovated port area and "South Bank" equivalent, for a farewell dinner for Cristina and her mum. I had originally planned to go the the youth service at Rey de Reyes church, but this was more important. In the taxi, we passed the worst slums I have seen in the city, consisting of ramshackle shacks built under roads etc.

The group got talking with one waiter outside. I left the talking to the Spanish speakers, and commented light-heartedly to Cristina that the guy seemed to give a good sales pitch, and we´ll see if he´s successful. She told me that he spoke English, and probably heard me, but no matter! The group went with this restaurant, a white tablecloth affair. We ordered asado, which is a very famous dish here, and a barbeque basically. A hot metal grill is brought to the table with assorted meats on it. The chicken was possibly the most delicious I´ve ever eaten, and the chorizo sausage is good. I tried exotic meat parts, not because I looked forward to the taste, but more just to try new things - kidney, intestine, etc. Later (and not connected with ingesting these!) I didn´t know which toilet was the mens´, but the others translated for me! We were the only people in the restaurant, because we were there at the ridiculously early time of 7:30pm or so! We walked outside along the water, where it was dark now but there were plenty of other people around. They caught a taxi home, while I walked back to the hostel. Cristina and her mum were leaving on Sunday night.

Cristina was very sad to be going home, because she had had such a fantastic time seeing her relatives, and in Argentina generally! I really enjoyed hanging out with her. She helped me ease into the culture by bridging the cultural divide by translating, etc. I thought it very unlikely that I would visit Melbourne just before my trip, and run into someone else who would be in the same city far away at the same time! I found myself opening up to her unexpectedly, and knew I wanted to hang out more. It was good to see a familiar face in a foreign country. We met some interesting people together. We had some great chats. I would say she was only an acquaintance beforehand, though earlier we had traveled together as part of a group to a remote Aboriginal community in Arnhem Land. Chau amiga!