OK, it’s been a few days without entries, so this is a bit of what I’ve been up to.

On Tuesday night I took part in a two hour tango course at Milhouse. That was OK. On Wednesday night I took part in a two hour salsa course, also at Milhouse (everything’s possible at this hostel, one wouldn’t have to leave the building for months and could still lead a great social life). That was more up my sleeve than the tango, I’m getting close to the point of being all tangoed-out. It’s just everywhere. And I had learned a bit of salsa before, or at least I was taught how to dance salsa when I lived and worked with some people from Ecuador in Spain a few years ago. But me taking in what I was taught is entirely another thing.

And on Thursday there was a daiquiri and pizza party at the hostel and I finally got to do some work for more than two hours. The reception is very busy and lots of staff working at a time so admittedly I haven’t done much work. I’m supposed to be working for my accommodation so I really want to help, but I also remember what a nuisance it sometimes seemed to be to get a trainee at home. Yes it always helped but it also took some time to train them so they would actually be of some help. And here things are a bit more complicated. And people seem to think it’s beneath my dignity to mop the floors. Well it isn’t. Oh well we’ll see. Maybe I just have to let go of the ever-icelandic have-to-be-doing-something mentality for once. Doing nothing certainly won’t kill me. And the chances of me being caught doing nothing at all are rather slim anyway.

Friday was completely devoted to studying Spanish. And we are talking hours here, lots of ‘em.
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On Saturday I went to Creamfields, an electronic music festival, here in Bs. As. Me and about 49,999 others. The music wasn’t entirely my cup of tea but it was great fun. The events had very Argentinian timings, started at 3 pm and ended at 7 am. Or were scheduled at these hours, at 7 am this old hag was snuggled up in bed and doesn’t know what was happening in the real world at the time.

At 10:30 when Groove Armada entered the stage it started to rain. And when it rains in Buenos Aires it pours. In the throng of people next to the main stage it was so packed that most people were drenched with sweat anyway and very few of all the tall, dark and handsome guys were still wearing their shirts. Well I didn’t mind the least bit! And not dancing wasn’t an option, although you can hardly call it dancing, because you kinda just moved with the crowd. And because of the pushing-jumping-and-stepping-on-toes in the horde my feet now resemble a Rorschach inkblot test and my ankle it about as thick as my thigh – quite a few inches that.

50,000 is a lot of people. There are countries with fewer inhabitants than that. I didn’t realize the quantity of it until after midnight when I tried to venture to one of the bars. I thought that the crowd was only this thick close to the stages but it just kept on. And on. And on. Then I understood why all the security guards and safety precautions, helicopters and ambulances.
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Sunday was like Sundays should be. It was still raining so I didn’t feel the least guilty about lying in bed or one of the numerous comfy sofas and read and solve crossword puzzles. Went for a walk in the lovely rain and had wonderful coffee and croissants and then went to the cinema. I saw an Argentininan film, El Cielito. A really good film, it has taken part in several international film festivals so even Icelanders might be able to see it at home.

The film is about a lonely and rootless guy in his early twenties, a drifter, who starts working on a small farm owned by a couple with a year-old boy. The atmosphere in the house is oppressive when the farmer is around and it becomes increasingly apparent that domestic abuse is a problem. When the wife kills herself the main character takes off and takes the little boy, whom he has grown very fond of, with him to Buenos Aires. After a while they become homeless and it’s all very tragic.

When the film was over I wiped the tears off my cheeks (yes, I'm just a big softie) and walked into the warm and rainy night. And on my way home I walked past lots of homeless people, sleeping on the sidewalks, using newspapers as covers. And begging streetchildren. And it somehow seemed just a bit worse then usually. But I hope I never get used to it, that would mean that my slightly-too-soft heart has become hardboiled.
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And today was another day devoted to Spanish. I’m highly pleased about my progress and feel like I’m sooo smart (modesty isn’t my forte). The last class is tomorrow and after that I’ll soon make a move, it’s time to see something else than Buenos Aires, as lovely as it is.