When I went home to visit in August, I was struck by the friendliness of all the airport workers as I made my way through customs and immigration. I kept wishing I had a question for them, just so I could talk to them. Sorry to say it, but I had almost forgotten that some people just do their jobs, even as if they enjoy them.
This time, I was prepared for that, but it delighted me all the same. There was friendly assistance everywhere I turned! As I was walking down a long hall, there was a airport worker standing there, just standing, in the middle of that long walkway, and it seemed like his only job was to say,"Good morning to you" and "Welcome to the US". There was a pilot walking ahead of me, and this man thanked him for his service! I was smiling from deplaning to waiting for my next flight.
And with that, I am back in South Dakota, sipping egg nog and being so so so happy that there is no snow on the ground.
Brent wanted one more Argentinean working week, so he is leaving on Saturday. I will be interested to hear how he felt upon being welcomed back home by dozens of people he doesn't even know, and I look forward to meeting him in Colorado for Christmas.
Friday, December 14, 2012
Thursday, December 06, 2012
Argentina being Argentina.
The weekend in Pinamar was so lovely, and that should not be forgotten, which I why I separated these two posts. This one is more so I don't forget why we´re moving out of Argentina.
When Brent got our tickets, he asked the clerk how long the bus ride was. She said four hours. He chose a 1:30 departure time to allow me to sleep in after my night at work and so we could take our time in the morning and walk to the station.
As we got on the bus, the man checking the tickets informed us that we would arrive at 8pm.
"Wait, what?" said Brent, in irritated Spanish. "The woman told me it was a four-hour trip!"
"That's the early and the late bus," he replied, clearly having had to explain this before. "This one takes about seven hours."
"Why didn't she tell me that?"
"They're supposed to. But they usually don't."
So, we settled in for the long trip, trying not to grit our teeth every time we got off the highway to drive several kilometers out of the way to pick one person up in a little tiny town.
But we arrived safe and happy, and we checked into our hotel.
When we checked out two days later, the woman told us how much we owed.
"No," Brent said, totally calm, "that's not what you told me on the phone."
She launched into a lengthy explanation of why the price had risen by nearly 200 pesos. We continued to look at her until she stopped and said, "It doesn't matter, you're right."
Luckily, we somehow got on the express bus to get home, so we were planning on a four-hour trip. It turned into four and a half, because we had to exit the highway at one point and get back on. A handful of protestors (we think -- there were no signs, so we have no idea what they standing for) had lit a bunch of branches on fire in the middle of both lanes and one of the on ramps. The police were there, watching and directing traffic around it while the fires burned and the pyros sat on the barriers between lanes.
And so it goes.
When Brent got our tickets, he asked the clerk how long the bus ride was. She said four hours. He chose a 1:30 departure time to allow me to sleep in after my night at work and so we could take our time in the morning and walk to the station.
As we got on the bus, the man checking the tickets informed us that we would arrive at 8pm.
"Wait, what?" said Brent, in irritated Spanish. "The woman told me it was a four-hour trip!"
"That's the early and the late bus," he replied, clearly having had to explain this before. "This one takes about seven hours."
"Why didn't she tell me that?"
"They're supposed to. But they usually don't."
So, we settled in for the long trip, trying not to grit our teeth every time we got off the highway to drive several kilometers out of the way to pick one person up in a little tiny town.
But we arrived safe and happy, and we checked into our hotel.
When we checked out two days later, the woman told us how much we owed.
"No," Brent said, totally calm, "that's not what you told me on the phone."
She launched into a lengthy explanation of why the price had risen by nearly 200 pesos. We continued to look at her until she stopped and said, "It doesn't matter, you're right."
Luckily, we somehow got on the express bus to get home, so we were planning on a four-hour trip. It turned into four and a half, because we had to exit the highway at one point and get back on. A handful of protestors (we think -- there were no signs, so we have no idea what they standing for) had lit a bunch of branches on fire in the middle of both lanes and one of the on ramps. The police were there, watching and directing traffic around it while the fires burned and the pyros sat on the barriers between lanes.
And so it goes.
Tuesday, December 04, 2012
Out of town!
My awesome birthday present from Brent was a trip OUT OF THE CITY! to Pinamar, a beach town about four hours south of here. (Well, supposed to be about four hours, but I'll get to all that another day.) We arrived on Saturday night and checked into this beautiful little hotel near the ocean.
On Sunday I put on my new swimsuit and we walked a loooong way down the beach. It was beautiful and hot, but windy enough that you didn't realize you were getting sunburned on those three little patches of skin you missed with the sunscreen, or on the top of Brent's feet, but we found some aloe and started taking care of that right after we got back. The walk probably lasted about an hour too long, as we were hot and tired, but it was a great day.
Monday, we explored Pinamar a bit more, then had a long card-playing lunch before returning to Buenos Aires and the most recent subway strike that afternoon. It's nice to know there's more to Argentina than giant, messy city.
On Sunday I put on my new swimsuit and we walked a loooong way down the beach. It was beautiful and hot, but windy enough that you didn't realize you were getting sunburned on those three little patches of skin you missed with the sunscreen, or on the top of Brent's feet, but we found some aloe and started taking care of that right after we got back. The walk probably lasted about an hour too long, as we were hot and tired, but it was a great day.
Monday, we explored Pinamar a bit more, then had a long card-playing lunch before returning to Buenos Aires and the most recent subway strike that afternoon. It's nice to know there's more to Argentina than giant, messy city.
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