Monetary clusterf… coming out of South America
After the boys left, I had two and a half weeks to get myself to Sao Paulo for my flight to Africa. There wasn’t much more that I wanted to see (or that I really had time to see), and I was kind of getting antsy. I stayed for another week and a half in Buenos Aires, and I can’t really account for much of what I did…I spent a lonely day in the apartment we had rented, mostly cleaning, picking cigarette butts out of the plants, scraping gum off the floorf and undoing the problem I created myself of stripping all the wax off the wood floors (which entailed some towels under my feet, loud music, and a lot of dancing). I searched my camera and the interent for pictures of the place in order to return the plants, statues and vases to their proper position. I did a drop off of all the extra beer and liquor in front of the local internet cafe, where I had become friendly with the owners. When the lady came to get the keys for the apartment, she asked me if we broke anything…oh no, no, no. And that was it…I got the deposit back and ran with my things down the street, out of sight.
The next week was a time of sleeping late, running errands during the day (such as getting a health checkup and my Hepatitis A shot, buying camping equipment for Africa, and sending stuff home), and visiting with friends at night. I met with Adriana and one of her friends, Laura, a few nights. The last night I went out with them, they gave me a little present – a cross-eyed frog that lights up and says “I love you” when you press it…it hangs on my bag now, and little kids love to play with it. I also met up with Gonzalo again, and he was so excited about the party – his “best birthday ever” as he said, and he sends his thanks to David, Eli, and Rukman.
I also (finally) walked around the city, checking out all the sights – the Recoletta Cemetery (where Evita’s body lays), the Evita Museum, the botanical gardens, the Chinese Garden, had a meal in Chinatown (where I was super excited about some Chinese mustard for my egg rolls, but they didn’t know what I was talking about. They don’t like hot food in Buenos Aires, so I’m curious what happened to the hot mustard…is this something the Chinese in America cam up with, or what? You should have seen me trying to tell this Chinese guy about his cuisine and that he should have Chinese mustard…I even went to the Chinese grocery store, called China Oriental, and there was French mustard and dijon mustard, but no Chinese mustard…what’s up with that?).
Finally it was time to leave Buenos Aires. I spent a total of 3 weeks there (not counting the brief trip to Iguazu), which is longer than I’ve spent in one place over the course of this whole trip. It was a nice break, though. I took the boat to Colonia del Sacramento, Uruguay, a cute little town that was controlled by first the Portuguese and then the Spanish (the Spanish obviously won the land here), who both left a lot of remnants of their respective cultures behind. The most striking thing of all was the leaves changing colors and falling to the ground. For the first time, it felt like autumn — and it was June 1st! How strange!
With not a lot of time to linger around, I took the bus that evening to Montevideo. I can’t say much about Montevideo…it looks a little like Buenos Aires, but there’s not much happening there. I only spent 1/2 a day there, because I had a long bus ride ahead of me to Sao Paulo, and I wanted a few days there to relax before heading off to Africa. Africa, Africa, I was really getting excited about getting to Africa…
A nice 28-(or so)hour bus ride, and I was in Sao Paulo. I had contacted a couple I had met way, way back when I was in Belize (this was like week 2 of the trip), and they invited me to stay with them in Sao Paulo, which was incredibly nice. Eddie (who is American) picked me up from the airport; his Brazilian girlfriend, Paola, was actually in the States for a conference, and she came home a few days later.
I had made the full circle, starting in Sao Paulo and ending in Sao Paulo, 6 months in South America almost to the day. There’s so much more to see; I can say I was in 6 countries, but I spent 2 days in Uruguay and about a week and a half total in Chile. I only visited 3 places in Argentina. A month in Peru, and I really only hit the tourist spots in the south; Brazil is so darn big than I spent 2 1/2 months there, and missed entire areas; with 6 weeks in Bolivia, I did a lot, although there’s a good amount more to see. This is not even to mention Paraguay, Ecuador, Colombia (which is supposed to be a lot safer these days), Venezuela (safe? still not sure on this point, but you’d probably be alright), and the Guayanas.
The night before I left Paola and Eddie took me to a party that was put together in part by Paola’s sister. It was to showcase 3 of the top restaurants in Sao Paulo (a city that is known for its cuisine). The food was great (with a common theme of using rice), and all FREE! There were beautiful cheese spreads and free beer, wine, and lots of champagne. After some people talked for a while (presenting awards and the such) the lights went down, the music went up, and we all danced. I met most of Paola’s large family, dancing with all the women, practicing my Portuguese with the men; this went on until nearly 2am. It was a Tuesday night. What a great last night.
The next day I woke up and had a nice breakfast with Eddie, spent more time than should be needed at the post office to send some last things home, and headed to the airport nice and early to take care of changing these Uruguayan pesos that have been weighing my pocket down since I left Montevideo. I ran all over Sao Paulo trying to change them with no luck, but was advised I could do it at the airport.
With plenty of time before my flight, I went to check in. This in itself took a while because I had to provide proof of onward travel (i.e. the intention to leave South Africa). I had mulled over this logistical problem for the previous few days, and finally came up with a solution. (You see, I have heard that South Africa is strict on its entry requirements, which includes this proof of onward travel. If you don’t have proof that you will leave the country, the worst case scenario is that they send you home on the next flight, at your own expense, an option that I did not want to be exercised upon first stepping foot in Africa). I bought a bus ticket online to Gaborone, the capital of Botswana. However, the computer I used did not have a printer, so I just wrote down all the information and confirmation numbers, etc. They weren’t too keen on this at the airport, but after a number of phone calls to supervisors, they let it fly. Ultimately, it would be my problem in Africa, I suppose.
I had to do a number of other things, and left changing the money to the last thing I did. Knowing I had to change money to US Dollars (which are important to have in Africa due to lack of ATMs, and which I had exhausted all in Argentina), I stopped at the ATM and took out extra Brazilian reais, with the intention of changing them as well. I waited in line to change the money; the woman told me she couldn’t change the Uruguayan pesos, only the reais. Then her system went down. I asked her where I could change the pesos as well. Maybe at such and such place, on the other end of the airport. Alright…I’ll just change everything there.
I ran down to the other end of the airport; now time was really ticking before my flight left (and I still needed to get through security and immigration). The line was 6 people deep; average time per person was 15 minutes. Doing the math, I would never make it. But I stood there. And I waited. And, you know, I’m going to miss my flight. But I have all this money that is completely useless to me in Africa – in total about $350! Nothing I can do. Why does it take 15 minutes per person just to change money? Why is everything so slow in Brazil? Well, this sucks….I have nothing left to do but now run to catch my flight and carry this stupid money around with me until maybe some day I might be lucky enough to change it. With a direct flight from Brazil to South Africa, maybe they’ll change it there, I thought.
And so I ran across the airport again, got in the security line behind, of course, the slowest old lady ever. And then again she cut in front of me in the immigration line, and so did her friend, so they could be together. I made it through and ran to the terminal (mind you, I got to the airport at least 3 hours before this stupid flight). Without a doubt in my mind, my flight was leaving from the gate all the way at the end of the terminal. I promise you, nearly every flight I ever take leaves from the end terminal. Running up to the terminal, of course, everyone’s sitting around, no one’s boarding, no one’s doing anything except me, running like a fool to “catch” this flight. Anyhow, doesn’t matter.
I’m going to Africa
Tags: Argentina, Brazil, Uruguay, Tag Index
Tania
July 5th, 2006 at 3:20 pm
Can’t wait to hear how Africa is. I assume that the internet access is limited in Africa as there has not been a note from there as of yet. Keep safe and watch out for the parasites. Take care. Karen
July 13th, 2006 at 1:09 pm
Hey T.
Fuck those money changers, right? I can’t believe you’ve been gone so long. Same boring shit in LA. I’m about to recreate our cross country drive but in the opposite direction. And solo.
You’re probably just going east, but if you need stuff to do or places to stay in Senegal, Mali, or Morocco, let me know. I’ve got a connection in Uganda too, but there’s a civil war there…
There was only one international ATM in Mali, but you’ll probably do alright in South Africa. Go to Swaziland. Say hello to the Swazis.
Poor Rukman. Poor, poor Rukman…
Scholnick