Lamentably, it’s been a while since I’ve recounted to the
public my thrilling tales of student life in Argentina. I’ll attribute this
primarily to my inability to use the English language anymore; Spanish has
taken the place of many words and phrases. If my English was a well-constructed
brick house, Spanish is the drunken sub-contractor replacing my quality bricks
with toasted cow pies. The structural integrity is still there, but it’s not
quite as pretty as it used to be, and it would probably smell bad in the rain.
Now that I’ve completely derailed that metaphor, the secondary reason for my
absence was spring break. I went to a town in the mountains called La Cumbre.
It was lovely, you should have come. And the tertiary reason for my delay in
posting was due to a rekindling of my romance with Bidet. For those of you who
are a little slow on the uptake (it’s OK, Mommy still loves you for tax-refund
purposes), I was struck by Argentinian lightning again and got food
poisoning. To answer the burning question, and let me assure that I now know a
good bit about burning sensations, no, I don’t know what caused Round 2 of Super
Smash Bowels. But it did make my trip to the mountains a little more
exciting.
Friday morning of spring break, soon after waking up, my
tutor Tomas informs me that we’re going to La Cumbre. This in itself was fine
because I had been expecting the trip, and the food poisoning was more or less
gone. I’m sure it is anxiously waiting to strike again next month in the form
of a bad pickle, though. I was informed that I had 20 minutes to get ready, and
that his cousin Santiago, our driver, was in a hurry to get to a family lunch.
I threw some clothes and things in my bag, said a hasty goodbye to Bidet, and
was greeted promptly 20 minutes after the phone call. I’m convinced it was the
first and last instance of punctuality in Argentina, and I savored it like a
thick slab of unicorn meat with a blue moon. The astronomical occurrence, not
the beer. Although the beer would go well with unicorn steak too.
I had ridden with Santiago once before, and I wouldn’t
describe the experience as particularly frightening or Bidet-inducing. He liked
to drive fast, but he was controlled, and I felt safe. This time, whether
because of the diminished intestinal fortitude, or because I had taken stock of
my mortality a few weeks prior, or because he was really hungry, Santiago nearly
scared the literal shit out of me. I’m not going to say we were going over 100
miles per hour just outside the city, but we were going over 160 kilometers per
hour just outside the city. The nail-biting terror that parents feel when their
child first learns how to drive and is doing 25 mph in a 20 mph zone? I finally
understand that, except I couldn’t do anything because all of my spare energy
was spent safeguarding the one pair of pants I brought on the trip so they didn’t
get ruined before we arrived. Thankfully, we made it alive, not terribly late,
and only one of us had to run to the restroom upon arrival. Tune in next time
to find out if Captain Ryan soiled his pants like a 2 year-old or retained the
last tattered shreds of his dignity!
Notes:
1.
What’s dignity?
2.
I don’t know whose grave I defiled to earn two
bouts of food poisoning, but damn Argentina, cut me some slack. I like Bidet, but
not that much. And she hates it when I’m needy.
3.
Santiago really is quite a talented driver. That
doesn’t mean I trust the other motorists though.
4.
La Cumbre was awesome. Mountain biking, hiking,
and hoodratting were the primary activities in which we participated.
5.
Some of the motorists in La Cumbre probably were
not happy with us. For a single payment of $19.95, I’ll tell you why in a
private conversation! Hint: It involves fruit and climbing trees.
