The Muddy-Pants Diaries

1 June 2005 (Wednesday) – Buenos Aires, Argentina

Claudia has exams tomorrow. She is studying Geology and this is one of the most important exams. Hence, she has taken leave from work to stay at home to study.

For me, I just could not get enough sleep. I was absolutely knackered. But by 1pm, the other body need – food – took over and I dragged myself out of bed to head out… which was also good, I should get out of the way so that Claudia could concentrate on her studies. Poor dear.

I dropped by Puerto Madero to have a look as a few friends have mentioned that this area had changed. Wow, indeed, it had changed quite a bit. The converted warehouses are now filled with lovely, posh restaurants – muy fashion (very snooty) as the porteños usually say. It reminded me of the area around River Thames of London, with the fancy pubs, trendy restaurants and chichi shops. I was quite happy to see these changes in Buenos Aires as it seemed that people are full of optimism about the future, plunging into investments and entrepreneurships to get their lives going.

Well. Pablo, my good friend from Buenos Aires, whom I stayed with for 2 months the last time, was out-of-communication for a while. Simply put, he stopped reading his emails because he did not feel like it. It is complicated to explain. That’s why psychologists have jobs.

2 months ago in March, the brother of a good Argentine friend of mine (who lives in Singapore) came to Singapore to visit her. Upon his return, I had asked him to bring some gifts for Pablo’s family members to pass on to Pablo.

Well, getting 2 latinos to make a rendezvous is frankly Mission: Impossible. They were somewhat in contact these 2 months through phone messages and a couple of phone calls but nothing happened apparently.

I called Rodrigo yesterday to arrange to have drinks this Friday and I learnt that the gifts were still with him! Oh, poor Rodrigo. Alright, I told Rodrigo to bring them to me on Friday when we meet.

And… of all days, Pablo, who had NO IDEA I was already in Buenos Aires as he had not read my emails for months, went to Rodrigo’s office yesterday to collect the gifts. Like, FINALLY. And when he heard from Rodrigo that I was already here, he was shocked beyond words.

He then frantically tried to get in touch with me late last night. So, we managed to make a vague appointment via email (now he reads them, but only mine, it seemed) to meet at El Ateneo at Av. Santa Fe at 6pm today.  Why El Ateneo?  We both love books and El Ateneo at Av. Santa Fe, to me, is the most elegantly magnificent bookstore in the entre world!!

It was quite crazy to get in touch this way!! Imagine, if he had continued not to collect the gifts from Rodrigo or read the emails, he would not have known at all. How very strange that he chose to collect the gifts on the day I called Rodrigo? Anyway, when we met, it was GREAT and we were chatting non-stop about travels and catching up on our lives these past years.

One thing he shared with me was rather surprising and enlightening.

The RTW of 2002-2003 had been a dream, a fantasy come true. I was excited, eager, anxious, completely into it before the trip.

Yet, the preparation for this trip was somewhat different. I was a lot more confident and less excited. I mean, I was thrilled to be making this trip, but was rather vague about all the arrangements. Look, I only packed for my 4-to-6 months trip 9 hours before the flight. I know of friends who pack a week ahead for a 10-day trip. I read up and had a semi-route in my head but I was not particular about anything. Just before I left for the airport, my brother-in-law asked me if I was excited. I searched deep inside me and replied, “Well, frankly, I feel normal.” Yep, going to the airport to fly to South America for x months felt like I was going to take a bus to downtown to catch a movie.

2 days ago, I had written in my diary and the blog that I felt really normal about being in Buenos Aires. To be honest, I felt a little strange WHY I thought that way. I was wondering and you probably were wondering as well, what is going on with me.

And now, as Pablo discussed these SAME feelings he had, about how he felt NORMAL in his last trip in West Africa in 2004, he managed to articulate the reason behind it very clearly to me. Travelling is now normal for us. It is no longer a dream or a reward or a fantasy to fulfill and achieve. You know, how it is like for people to say that they have saved up all their lives just to do something… take the Antarctica cruise, go to Europe/Asia/USA/Africa, see the pyramids, the Great Wall, etc… Once it is done, there is a great sigh of dream-come-true.

For us, it has become different. Yes, we still have to work our ass off and save up a lot and yes, we also want to see the pyramids and the Great Wall, but it is like we travel just because. It is like a continuum. There is no end.

Instead of being in the office, getting heart-attacks over deadlines and disasters that affected customers’ statements (I used to work in a bank) which was just another normal day in the life of Trisha. I am now heading down another path, getting heart-attacks from, I don’t know, too much samba dancing or near-death experience from anaconda attacks or whatever. Also a normal day in the life of Trisha, but just different.

I probably did not make myself clear in all this. But it does not matter to you. It matters to me. With what Pablo shared with me, I suddenly cleared up the fog in my head and figured out why I was feeling what I was feeling. There was no one else but he who could see this and explain to me, as he had travelled a lot and also very much in the same way as I had (but more punishing!) and he had it clarified and figured out before me. I did not feel so strange about this trip anymore. Now, the tango begins!

Well, by 8pm, I had to bid Pablo farewell as I had another appointment. I know, what the hey, my diary has more appointments this week when I am in Buenos Aires than when I was back home.

The lady I was meeting is Analia. She was one of those whom I had spammed via Hospitality Club to ask for free lodgings. Although I decided to stay with someone else, she still wanted to meet me. Well, that was rather sweet of her. We agreed to meet at El Ateneo at 8pm. She wanted to know how to identify me. I told her “Soy chinita.” (I am Chinese). That should be OK to distinguish but she still wanted a specific item for identification. Alright, afterall, there are 40,000 Chinese here in Buenos Aires. Who knows? El Ateneo on a Wednesday evening at 8pm could be another Chinatown. I decided that I would wear a pañuelo (handkerchief) to cover my hair.

When I was sitting with Pablo, I did not wear it. Only when Pablo was leaving, did I try to put on my disguise (Pablo was dying of embarrassment at the sight of me with the pañuelo and practically fled the scene) and a lady who had been hovering around and spying upon me, sprung towards me in delight. Oh, Analia!! Mucho gusto! She had actually spotted me having coffee with Pablo at the cafe but as there was no pañuelo in sight, she kept on searching and searching for another chinita.

Her boyfriend Rafael later joined us and gosh, both of them were so so so so so interested in me and my country. Like many South Americans, they do not have any idea where Singapore is. So, with much pleasure, ahem… I rattled off a standard package about Singapore (with statistics and all) that I had used several times in my previous visit here. Previously, I did not have much idea about my own country’s history either. When I realised that people from all over the world do want to know something about Singapore, about Asia, about the cultures, the people, the food, the politics, the economy, I felt really ashamed that I knew so little myself. So, I started to read up a little just to come up with this information.

What I felt so touching was that they were really sincere in getting to know me. Rafael had taken a taxi from his office to rush here. As Analia is not from Buenos Aires, she had been a tad worried about coming here as she was not sure about the address. But they really wanted to talk to me. I was just so blown away. They are from Tucuman, hence, they exude an air that is really quite different from the porteños. They were really nice and soon, they invited me to go to their house one evening for dinner. Wow.

I know our cultures in Asia are rather different but when I try to think about it, would this have happened in reverse? In English, we do have greetings like “How are you?”, “How do you do?”. That’s like ‘Lesson 1’ in all English lessons. But do we really use them, I wonder? How often? Do we ever make time to greet people and listen to their answers?

Here it is so natural for everyone to greet one another with “Hola, ¿cómo estás? / ¿qué tal? / ¿cómo anda? / ¿todo bien?” (various forms of ‘How are you? / Everything OK?’) One would say that these words just flow out naturally, without thinking. Hence, they are not sincere about it. But hey, no, I disagree. While it is true that some people would reply “Bien bien” (Good, good) almost in an absent-minded manner, or sometimes, both would say¨“Hola, ¿que tal? ¿Todo bien?” almost together and depart without waiting for a reply, I still feel that it is very gracious to hear it, to see the smiles in their faces and some do sincerely want to know that everything or at least something is fine with you.

As I had gotten used to it, when I returned to my country 2 years ago, I used “How are you?” rather often. I think I freaked out quite a few of my friends and whoever I was talking to. Some simply ignored the question after an embarrassing pause. But after a while, some do return the greeting. I just think it is sweet.

Well, this is one of the things I like about the culture here. While it has its own society problems, with corruption, rubbish on the streets, protests, complicated economy, a crazy place where nothing but everything functions, it is indeed a very gracious society.

[photo credits: PC – Pepe and Cris, thanks!!  See their blog (written in Catalan) http://www.loliplanet.com/]

Tags: 01) Imagining Argentina, Buenos Aires

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