Bus to Iguazu

15 June 2008- 2:10 pm
I don't know why I decided to get to the bus station an hour early, but I guess I just wanted to have everything in place. And I figured if I packed enough things to entertain me for 17 hours, what's one more? So I'm ordering bus station coffee. Andres was right about taking a cab here: they drop you off right at your gate. Although it was near impossible to catch one. The first one I flagged down, upon hearing my destination, said he wouldn't go to Retiro. Is it the strikes again? I wonder if El Campo will affect our route. I know it has affected buses up north. But I didn't look into that at all. Yesterday as I was trying to eat (a very late) lunch, Leandro texted me "Vamos al carelolazo?" I barely read his message before I assumed he was talking about that big show that's coming up at Crobar. Some famous DJ. So I racked my brains trying to figure out a way to get out of work, and told myself the $30 USD I would make would be well worth the party. So I texted him, "En Crobar? Quiero ir..." Suffice it to say he was confused as to why I would want to protest in a boliche. The cacerolazo was in Plaza de Mayo, and another was at El Obelisco. He invited me because I was so into in on March 25, my second day here. (That's actually how I met Leandro.) But yesterday was cold and I knew I'd be on my feet all night in the bar. So I skipped it.

It's easier to think of things in US dollars now that my flight home is approaching. I bought a dark grey hoodie/sweatshirt/coat-dress yesterday in Plaza Serrano for $90 pesos. I would never pay $90 dollars for it, but for thirty bucks I'll throw it over a white tee shirt and black tights after yoga class and still look presentable. Not sure if it matters though: Buenos Aires has been a real lesson in vanity. Or humility. Not sure which.

My cab driver today called me "linda" and "muñeca" and told me pretty girls always opt to be dropped off at the terminal. If I take a cab, I'm taking a cab and I'm in it for the long haul. I could've taken the D-Line to the C, like I did when I bought the tickets, but this was way less stress and worth the $10 pesos. He asked me where I was going, after mucho silencio and a lot of yawns on my part, and I told him Iguazu. ¿Conoces? He doesn't know it. He's always trabajando, trabajando, trabajando... "Even on Father's Day?!" At 65+ years old, he's too young a dentro to be a father. But he said he'd wait for me when I return and maybe some day we can go to Iguazu together. Sweet man, but I think I'll pass. He wasn't even a Radio Taxi.

15 June 2008- 3:15 pm
This bus thing doesn't seem to be a bad deal. It claims they have WiFi! Two little boys are sitting behind me; we'll see how this goes... I'm on the upper level of a double-decker bus, so I imagine I'll have a good view. If I can stay awake. I did have coffee. We closed around 7 last night, and I gave Boy Who Gave Me a Massage my number, but I have no clue what his name was. He saved mine in his phone as "Neg," so I don't feel too bad. I know he's not Lukas or Eduardo, because they were the two in the back with the birthday party. "¿Sos Meg?" they asked me. I didn't realize Con had told them I would be their waitress. When I went back to the bar I ordered two pints and a explanation as to how they knew my name. Kristin says I should start charging for autographs. What Bar Sugar patrons don't realize is that there is one of me and like fifteen of them per night. "I'm the guy from New York. Last week." Unless you're the Cornell Fiji from last night, I've already forgotten you. I've forgotten him by now too. Everybody's from Somewhere, and I bet I can name your drink before I name your hometown. And you, sir, look like a pint drinker.

Leitch is in town for a few days, he was planning on staying for a month but now it's only 6 days. Seems like a long flight for only 6 days (says the girl who's bussing a total of 34 hours to spend less than 30 hours in Puerto Iguazu.) He came by the bar with his sister. And although it was so great to see him, it made me realize how different my life has become. Chatting about who he saw at Blackfriar's is no longer my top priority. Although I miss the people, I do not miss paying for overpriced drinks.

Leitch's sister Jessica, Meg & Leitch at Sugar

Here are my newest pet peeves for bar etiquette:

1. People who leave glasses or bottles "hidden" under tables or in flower pots.
2. People who hang on to their empty glasses so they can look like they're still drinking and/or can insist that they're ordering another bottle en un rato. (More of an Argentine thing.)
3. Women who "hover" over the toilet seat. If everyone just sat down, you wouldn't have to worry about it.
   

15 June 2008- 8:12 pm
The difference between this bus and the Chilean bus (besides its size) is that Tigre Iguazu plays the sound on the movies for everyone, whereas in Chile you had to provide your own headphones. But the Arnold Schwarzenegger film skipped and I fell asleep during the other one. And I think I also fell asleep during the one starring The Rock. It was dubbed in Spanish and didn't hold my attention. For merienda I had a Sprite and some crackers with mermelada de ciruela. For my vegetarian dinner I ate a salad with lettuce, tomato and shredded carrot; some kiwi, and pasta with rice. The omnivore platter had a bread instead of the kiwi, but I guess even Argentine bus companies realize rice + pasta + bread = too many carbs. I also got some sort of rum cake pudding with raisins. It was questionable. Everyone else had ham instead of tomatoes and beef with their rice. Another fun fact about buses: they're not planes, so you can use your cellphones. And people do. Mainly to text message football scores, but you'd be amazed at how complicated text message alerts can be. And the guy next to me has a talking phone. It tells him when to enter the number manually or to press one to scan his contacts list. Seriously? Don't you have it down by now? New movie, I'll assume it's another from our action genre DVD collection. Andres says the First Class bus is super nice: good food, champagne, etc. Maybe it's a good thing I opted to ride that back. This isn't so bad, but I'm only 5 hours in.


16 June 2008- 7:17 am
I'm in Misiones now, a twisty, jungly red-brick trellis town where the sun is rising. Most people are off of the bus right now. Had destinations in other places, for Father's Day and such. Misiones tiene la tierra roja, or so I'm told. And so I see. It's like Jamaica. But I think I see frost on the ground. I swore I saw snow on the ground on the way here. After dark after sunset. But we are headed north. Toward the equator. I hope I dreamed it. Along with strange dialogs whose hablantes changed each time I'd wedge myself into a new position. Semi-cama is not too bad; I imagine Super Cama es mejor. We made a lot of stops though, every two- to four hours I'd say. In the middle of the night when the snow was on the ground and the babies and texters had left, someone woke me, "¿Adonde vas?" "A Iguazu." “Siga durmiendo.” So I did keep sleeping. Until we stopped here and someone tried to sell me breakfast and a man who says he's a 23 year old bombero, or firefighter, gave me some sweetened coffee. (Funny how when you are asked your age, the questioner is usually the exact same or two years older.) So this is Silvana's town. No wonder she left it. Can't be a star in a red dirt town with palm trees. And she certainly can't outshine The Falls from what I hear. Fireman thinks I look younger than 23. Might be the tank top, turtleneck, hoodie, jeans, and sneaker get up. It's probably the hair, which was straight but is now stringy and pinned back away from my face. Or the fact that I've slept the past 17 hours with my mouth open. I've been told I do that. Dentists have noted that I do that when they clean my teeth. They can tell. Last night I dreamed of El Fenix hot sauce. Of buying a blender and making my own salsas. And making a frozen version of the best mojito in the world. (I won't leave the recipe here.) I'm just your local domestic party planner turned backpacker. I no longer have any shame telling people I'm just here "de paseo" because I think it's quite impressive that I've done this on my own. And I'm thankful for Nana's money belt that currently holds all my cash and tickets and credit card firmly against my waist. And I'm getting the hang of my backpack. I hadn't had one since junior year of high school. That was before the new Belles' locker... And the ribbons from my Rapsodia shopping bag add a nice touch. Earth tones.

Everything I'll need for the trip is in this bag. I overpacked. And underpacked. Could've done without the swimsuit; could've used a fleece instead. It's winter, Meg.