The Flip of a Coin

So tonight is cooler than most have been since my arrival in Buenos Aires--now about 10 days removed. The clouds are sparse and the breeze is flickering through whatever vegetation that happens to be available. Its nice, especially in comparison to the blistering heat and humidity of the day time, and my shared habitation. Speaking of which, it has now been two months since I have seen a private room... I'm not really sure what that means with regards to my character, or patience, but I do think that its wearing slightly thin on me.

For the last 10 days, I have done nothing, with the exception of trying to lead a normal life. I've worked out, gone to the same coffee shop everyday, I've read books (I'm trying to understand why in the hell any high school student would be forced to read "The Grapes of Wrath," as only now do I begin to understand the story), I've window shopped, and I've gone out on the town with my hodge podge motley crew of English and Argentinian friends. I've planned and planned for the impending months ahead--actually only researched, trying my damndest to soul search and figure out what's next...

THE COIN FLIP

I met up with my buddy Matt at his swank abode and sat by the pool BSing about travel, what to do, and where to go. For the last few months this intense battle has been waged between going to Africa, or going to Asia... I was descriptively mulling my options over aloud to Matt, talking about both possibilities, and even thinking about whether I should come back through the North of South America and into Central America--thereby continuing to learn Spanish. Inevitably, I did what all born-to-be-Politicians do--the diplomatic thing--and flipped a coin. I had Matt call it. He did, and we eventually figured out that there is no heads on an Argentinian 25 centavo piece. After a brief clarification of what was what, I flipped again, and Africa had won the toss. This, was exactly how I figured out that I didn't really want to go to Africa anymore...

As soon as the coin landed on the numbers side (numbers and buildings), I kind of felt my stomach sink. I'm not entirely sure why, but I just knew that I didn't want to go. I had been in contact with an NGO in Africa about stopping by and trying to learn something for a month or so, but after having a long discussion with one of their reps, I was able to see that I wouldn't be of help in the long run, and I'm not sure how much I would take away from it myself... It reminded me of this discussion that I had with Ty--a guy on my Inca Trail trek--about how 10 weeks isn't going to be too incredibly powerful for any of the parties involved, unless of course, everything works out perfectly. Plus, though the resolution of conflict in Kenya seems to be impending... knock on wood... you just never know. It's a place that I really wanted to go too, which probably contributed to my desire to head elsewhere.

So where do I go next? I'm pretty sure its East.

SAN TELMO

I've been spending the last few days hustling back and forth between San Telmo--the Tango area of Buenos Aires--and Palermo--the rich and affluent area of BA. Most of this has been the result of having friends in different places, etc, but also because I'm restless. In the last week I've gone to the same steakhouse about 30 times (no joke). Its super cheap, the food is unbelieveable, and there is this guy who serves you there that looks like a distant relative of Andre the Giant. I jetted over to the Antiques market in Plaza Dorrego on Sunday--another thing that San Telmo is known for--and checked out all of the antique record players, as pictured below.

An old-school record player at the San Telmo Antique Market...

Sometime between then and now, I got drug out to one of the coolest concerts I've been to--a drum and bass night at Konex, an industrial ampitheatre featuring tons of weird sculptures. Mostly everybody was Porteño and a hippy. I dug it.


The Konex, site of a bass and drum concert...

A NOTE TO YOU...

A couple of days ago I found out that an aquaintance of mine, and a best friend of many of my friends, passed away. The guy was bright, ambitious, and a hell of a lot of fun--it only took me about 5 minutes to find out when I met him. I hate that its happened, and I hate that I can't be there for my friends--in a proximity sense. Maybe I couldn't have been anyway, but either way, it has helped in showing me how important this life really is. We all have things that we want to do in life, and we all have things that we think we have to do in life. Fact is, most of the people reading this don't even like there jobs, or aren't happy with their current state. Life really can end at any single moment, so change what you don't like and start turning over rocks to find what you do. Don't wait for time to pass. Instead, anticipate the moments to come, and take advantage of the opportunities you have. There are some people that don't ever get them, for one reason or another.

I can't be there, but I am here. You aren't here, but you are there. We are lucky to know that much.

Rest in Peace Fred.