La Terapeuta,El Psicologo, La Analista

"Yes, that is what my analyst says too." "Do you think so? I will have to talk to my analyst about this. You have a point." Everyone sees a therapist, psychologist, analyst here. Old, young, rich, poor you have an analyst. It is normal. They are the wisdom keepers...the holders of all the secrets. It is incomprehensible that you wouldn't talk to your analyst about a concern. Not to say that there is never resistance. In a previous visit I did meet a man resitant about the idea of a consultation with an analyst but he now freely quotes his analyst. At home I withhold the information about my profession until the timing seems right. Often when I reveal this piece of information the recipient will back away, make a joke "you won't analyze me will you?", and exhibit a certain discomfort with the knowledge that I spend my days understanding others, or more precisely helping them understand themselves. Here, when I say what I do I receive a BIG smile, am immediately accepted, and hear a myriad of questions or comments pertinent to life's puzzles. I must admit I could be seduced by the admiration . Cultural differences are amazing, aren't they?

La lavanderia

At home I run down the stairs, throw the clothes in the machine, wait about 45 minutes, then run down again to move it along to the dryer. Simple? Yes. If you are renting an apartment in Buenos Aires the procedure is a bit different. I still run down the stairs, but 3 flights not one. I walk out the door, hang a left, and walk two doors down to the lavanderia. There is a set price for a bundle so the challenge is to dirty all the clothes of color at the same time and the whites at another. Imagine the logistics of this challenge. So, for instance, enroute to the gym, class or a cappuccino I drop off a bundle. Later that afternoon I pick it up folded in a bag. Para lavar (to wash), I wait a day. Para lava seca (dry clean), it is two days. Y solamente para planchar (just to iron) it depends. I haven't figured out on what yet. I am always interested in different systems and have learned that many Argentines, even living in a home versus apartment, don' t have dryers. So going to the lavanderia has its advantage if you love your blue jeans and live in a humid climate. If you know what I mean.

Facundo...Big Beautiful Biker Legs and Bigger Besos

I'm telling you, Maria. You have to add this to the spinning class. I told you last year but you wouldn't listen. Your legs aren't as big but they are beautiful and I'm sure we would all love a big kiss! Facundo, one of my spinning instructors was leading class this morning. He makes the rounds kissing us all before we begin. They kiss everyone. Men kiss women. Men kiss men. Women kiss men. Women kiss women. They kiss hello. They kiss good-bye. They kiss just to kiss. So get with the program, Maria. Maybe after the three oommmmmm's in yoga we could all kiss. That is it for now. My spanish instructor will be here soon and I have to get ready to pucker up!

Adelante....Atras

I was intending to take a break from the blog this weekend. However, that changed about 45minutes into my walk when I entered Parque 3 de Febrero a short way past Jardin Japones. To my left were about 20 bodies in child's pose. Yes, yoga in the park. I stopped for a few minutes to observe but did not participate. Though more women than men the odds were closer...12 women, 8 men. About an hour later on my return before I reached the same spot I heard music, then heard the chant adelante-atras. As I came closer I saw many more bodies this time in upright position and the odds had shifted...more men than women. I stopped, observed for a moment, and with no hesitation participated. This time it was Salsa and no quesiton I was in!

To text or not to text...

When in the states I seldom text message. In fact, I find it a bit irritating. But in Argentina there is a transformation that takes place. I am delighted when one of those text message envelopes appears on the screen. Messages like.... Lunch at La Esquina de Las Flores, 12:30? Walk Puerto M in the AM? Ok, for the 1st, drinks! Or like last night.... Cine: Jude Law, Juliette Binoche, Robin Wright Penn... (Ok, so I didn't rest. I will this weekend.) Back to the concept of texting, now a verb. I am sure it is a generation thing. My son's cohort have a text message vocabulary that makes an actual conversation obsolete. I can almost see his eye roll now as he listens to one of my voice mail messages. Implicit in the eye roll is the thought, "ok, get to the point." I must admit that the get to the point approach has merit but it leaves no room to expound. Some of you know me as quiet at times, or perhaps reflective. But others know that I have the side of me that can expound and take a very circuitous route to get to the point. Hence, to text or not to text... that is the question.

A P.S for today's entry....A chip off the old block...

When Shaun was young we would schlepp (Yiddish for carry, drag, etc.) him to the far off corners of the earth on boat, bike or beat-up bus. When we would return he swore he would live in Jimtown, Indiana (our home) when he grew up. I would laugh and say "I'll call you from Paupau, New Guinea, if I can find a phone, and ask about the cows. Or better yet, I will meet you in London for Lunch." He would make a face. Today he is in Guadalajara, Mexico learning about tequila. His company chose him to represent them at the tequilerias in Jalisco. So for those of you who resist the impact of your family of origin, let it go. The apple doesn't roll far from the tree!

Small World

I am dining at La Parolaccia last night with Gabriela, my spanish professor/dear friend, and Allen, in from Seattle/friend from prior year... I say... "HGTV ran a special on the housing market in Buenos Aires. I missed it but received a couple of calls from friends with the info. I did the research to locate the real estate guru and sent him an email." Barely into the story, Gabriela looks at me and asks "Was it Michael?" "NO way!" I say. "You know him?" And we are onto the connections of how, and who, and what, and where. One of those "remember Monica that I told you about, well she was in New York and couldn't do the leg work, so... and then remember Mark, the pilot with Delta, well I set him up with Michael and he... Yes, small world!!! Of course, I had the same thought when I was meeting up with Gabriela and Allen. Allen is here for a week waiting for his significant other and then they are off to Patagonia. Last year she couldn't make it so he did the trip alone and when in BA studied with Gabriela. The three of us hung together... a movie here, dinner out or at my place, and now we are together again. ..reconnecting as if we lived down the street from each other. I love it!

Another item on the small world theme... Mi profesora at the school yesterday was Marcela, a woman around my age (for those of you who don't know I tend to lump everyone who is within a 20 year age span, older or younger, and fairly young at heart as around my age). She was great. She is ABD in literature and teaches at the University of Buenos Aires but needs extra work. Of course that is a long story and involves a man plus a child. But I'll get to the point since this is just a blog entry and not my dissertation. I couldn't believe four hours had passed when we were at the end of the session. Just put women together anywhere in the world and the conversations are endless with so much in common, not just about men either.

I do have to get on about the business of the day... It is spinning class at 9:00 before I am off to language class. Last night I did not return to my apartment until midnight so I will take it easier tonight. One last item that excites me... Before I left home I submitted my first article ever to a magazine called Transitions Abroad. I have been prepared for rejection. I can handle it. This morning when I logged onto my business account there was a message from the editorial staff. I made the first cut. DO YOU BELIEVE IT? DO I SOUND EXCITED OR WHAT? It is a start even if I don't make the print. Besos....