It wouldn’t be international travel if I didn’t have some sort of money problem. This time it was a doozy. Recall that back in August I found myself stuck in the UK with credit cards that were useless. Imagine almost the same situation, except I’m in Buenos Aires and I have no credit cards or cash whatsoever. I’m sure you’re asking yourself “How did Larry manage that?” It’s simple: I left my wallet in the car at the airport in Dallas. Worse, if I had caught it while I was in the airport it would have been an easy fix, but I didn’t catch it until the car that picked me up in BA dropped me off at the hotel. That’s a fun feeling. Being stuck in a foreign country with absolutely no money as opposed to very little.
So this week I have been totally dependent on my boss. And I do mean totally. He buys my lunch, he buys my dinner, he gets the taxis, he’s even offered to give me some cash if I need it. Very nice of him, but I’m always reluctant to take money from anyone. Him buying my meals is a completely different story. Under the company’s travel and entertainment policy when two or more people dine together the higher ranked on is supposed to get the bill. It’s because it would otherwise put the higher ranking person in the position of approving expense reports which benefit them.
The days have all pretty much run together, so there’s not a whole lot in the way of things to report. Buenos Aires is a very nice city in some ways and a very shabby city in others. The economic downturn the country has experienced over the last couple of years has really cost a lot of people. I get asked more times for a handout, which I can barely understand thanks to my limited Spanish, between the hotel and dinner than I do all day in downtown Dallas. Granted, my walk to dinner is a lot longer, but there are still exponentially more people asking for money here than there. And there are a ton of people that dig through the trash for plastic bottles. It’s almost like it’s its own little industry. I was really curious the night the trash people came while the diggers were still going through the bags. Thought it would be interesting to see what happened, but it was late and I wanted to be back in my hotel room.
We start our day at 8:30am with a half-hour ride to the office. The cars range from very nice to very not nice. They also have less stringent emissions laws than we do. Actually, I think if the car can still drive it basically passes whatever they consider to be an inspection. There are a lot of very nice parks on the way, and there’s a huge soccer stadium. Looks bigger than Texas Stadium or the AAC. I imagine they can stuff quite a few people in there.
Lunch is at a mall so eerily American that it could be picked up and put down in any suburban neighborhood and blend in perfectly once the signs were changed to English. Or maybe the signs wouldn’t even have to be changed.
At 6:30 everyone leaves and it’s time for another half-hour ride back home. I have come to the realization on this trip that Americans are the only ones that are anal about lines on the road. For the rest of the world those lines, and lights, are just there for decoration. I have seen some truly hair-raising driving in the last week. The people here do stuff that would cause some serious road rage at home. Like the driver we had on Friday… he pulled up in the far right lane of a three-lane road and turned left in front of everyone. And he did it while we all had a red light!
It’s roughly 7:00 when I get back to the hotel and I have 45 minutes to unwind a little bit and be alone. Then it’s dinner time. The most important national commodity the Argentinians have is beef, and they do have some amazing cows. Whether you want a cow for eating or for wearing you can get it here. They have very good leather, at least that’s what I’m told. I still think pleather doesn’t look all that bad. But the steaks are amazing. My doctor would kill me if she found out what I’d been eating while I was here. I’ve had at least three steaks already, and every one of them seems to melt in your mouth. Beautiful food. The only bad thing about dinner is that it takes two hours to eat it. The waiters are no faster here than they are in London or York or Dublin. The food’s definitely better, but the waiters are still very slow and patient people. Then it’s time to go back to the hotel and spend an hour or so talking to Lisa before bed. We’re using Skype for the chatting, and I have to say that it’s one of the greatest inventions ever.
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