Stuff!

I am so danged frustrated, you guys! I have a bunch of photos I´m desperate to upload. But I think I left my camera USB cable in Australia. So every computer I´ve been at I´ve hunted for a card reader, but they were all too old and none of them had one. Yesterday I finally braved the Spanish sitch and went and somehow managed to get my photos put on a DVD. So last night I went to the internet booth at the hostel with full intention of getting these photos up once and for all, only to discover that the CD drive on the computer doesn´t work. I couldn´t even get it to open. SOOOOOO I finally decided to lash out and go to an internet cafe this morning. And now I find... the CD drive is covered up so you can´t even touch it! Man but I am pretty furious.

Anyway, Buenos Aires proves itself to be full of fascination. Tomorrow afternoon we are flying to El Calafate in the south, so that we can check out Patagonia, but I will be sorry to leave. I could easily spend a while here. Luckily we will be back at the end of our trip.

We went out the other night for the first time (the first time for me that is; Ro went to Palermo with some backpackers while I slept the previous night. LAME!) I think I mentioned that a couple of the guys at the hostel told us about a gig. So we had a siesta on Saturday afternoon and then we woke up at 8:30 and in an anguished cry said ¨Oh no everyone has probably left already!¨ We looked all over the hostel for the people we were planning on going with but couldn´t see them anywhere. Trudged down to reception and finally Ro asked the guy working if he knew anything about it. Turns out it was his band. ¨We play at 11.30,¨ he said, and gave us the address. He was a bit too cool for school but we decided to check it out anyway (what else where we going to do?)

Okay, so at 11.30 we caught a cab to the Club de Arte, which was near Palermo (the main clubbing district). It was a grimy looking little place up a flight of stairs; we wouldn´t have picked it from the street on our own. Climbed the stairs only to be greeted by an empty bar, except for the band. But they seemed happy to see us. The guy from reception was suddenly all smiles and gave us the old Argentine cheek kiss which seemed a little odd since we hadn´t even introduced ourselves yet, but of course such is the Argentine way. Turns out his name is Guido, which I found most pleasing. We hung out with the band for a bit (and their friend from the Isle of Mann of all places, another backpacker called Matthew) and they offered us their Campari and orange juice. It was easily the worst thing I have ever tasted. I have no idea why anyone would ever drink it.

At about 1AM the band finally played. Lordy. But oh boy, we had a grande old time! Luckily for me they were much more erring on the ¨ska¨ or ska-punk rather than ¨reggae¨ side of things; reggae tends to put me to sleep. They were dressed much more reggae though. No checkerboards or porkpie hats in sight. Anyway it was uncharacteristic yet great fun skanking away on the d-floor, which was largely empty except for about four guys who were going loco.

(Note to Mum: in this instance, ¨skanking¨ (good) doesn´t mean being a ¨skank¨ (bad). It is a sort of dancing that you do to a lot of styles of music that come from Jamaica. It´s not very ¨skanky¨(bad) at all.)

Once the band finished it was about two - they were the only band on the bill - the club finally started filling up. Slowly, though. You don´t tend to go out until 2 in BsAs. It takes some getting used to. And how odd it was! The DJ played some more ska for a while, but then he busted out some salsa. And people actually started salsa dancing! The men and all. Actually the men were much more into it than the women. It was so bizarre for what seemed to be an indie club (a nice Mojo´s/Amplifier blend.) A friend of the band took quite a shine to Rowena and moved her around the floor like nobody´s business. Unfortunately moving away from him on the floor was a rather more difficult task. A shirtless hippy, not entirely unlike Michael Franti, insisted on dancing with both of us at once. We kind of messed up and he lost interest though. The bald and pierced singer from the band seemed to take an interest in me.

¨You don´t have this music in Australia,¨ he informed me.
¨Well, uh, maybe a little,¨ I said. ¨You can hear it some places.¨
¨But you have to go on the internet,¨ he said proudly.
¨Uh... yes,¨ I said. I couldn´t break it to him.

His big move was giving me a hug. Once I pushed him away (politely! Not like a shove!) he left me alone. Argentine men do seem to be fairly forward, but for the most part they also seem to get the picture fairly quickly.

I was so surprised at how friendly people were, and how many people came up and talked to us. So much for snobby porteños. An indie-looking girl and guy came us to me at one point and said, ¨¡Hola!¨ ¨¡Hola!¨ I said. They started laughing and said something to each other.

Where are you from, they asked me in English.
Australia, I said.
AUSTRALIA! they repeated in delight.

Then they told me, they have a bet going on.
¨What kind of bet?¨ I asked
¨You have to kiss one of us!¨
¨I have a boyfriend!¨ I informed them. ¨I´m not kissing anyone!¨
They looked at each other and groaned, like I was SUCH a bore. ¨But which one of us WOULD you kiss?¨

I don´t know what they were talking about. But they were very sweet and funny. They reminded me of some of the kooky kids you meet out in Perth on a good night.

Argh my internet time is running out!

I had some amazing dreams about Leonard Cohen the other night!

Love Caro!