Palabras From Argentina

Hola. Donde esta el bano. And thus concludes our lesson of new palabras en espanol. Mostly because that is the only intelligible espanol I speak. Also because if nothing else, this trip has taught me that I do not hablo espanol. My pronunciation is painful, and sometimes I say lo siento when someone doesn’t understand me just to apologize for butchering a language that was so lovely…until it came out of my mouth. The good news is, I’m a foodie so I do a lot of eating. Eating is one of few times during which it is normal and totally acceptable to refrain from speaking. So aside from ice trekking, mealtime has been my best time in Argentina.

Many people tell me that I need to work on my nonverbal cues or my body language. I disagree. I disagree because I have mastered the power of the point. Not the powerpoint, just the simplest tool of communication, the point. I point to whatever item my heart (and stomach) desires, and voila, my desire appears before my eyes. I can only hope that I know what I ordered because this method is not so conducive to questions. And so far, I’ve gone at least a week without saying a single word. When I do speak again, I wonder if I’ll be startled by the sound of my own voice.

I may struggle with the language, but Argentina is conflict free. The people have been some of the nicest, the restaurateurs and servers some of the most…patient. Plus Buenos Aires has a pretty cool Pink House, and what’s not to like about sipping beer in a rocking upstairs bar marked by nothing but a roughly-painted red door? La Puerta Roja, I’ll be back…but only if I can find you again.

Then there are the Patagonia cities. Where every step is an adventure and every sight takes my breath away. From the smaller Glacier Martial at the end of a grueling uphill trek to the Tierra del Fuego in Ushuaia, it’s not just the fire-land that makes every tourist’s fire burn. Just when you think you’ve seen it all, there’s the glacier Perito Moreno, a sight too unreal for any camera to believe.

I soaked in the sights, I drank in the beauty…sipped it, really, in the form of glacier ice in my Jameson…and I ate my way through it all. One bite at a time, one new palabra at a time, all the way from bustling BA to the southernmost city in the world.