My (hopefully) last four days in Buenos Aires

So. Here’s the deal.  My flight got cancelled and so the airline set me up with vouchers for a hotel, three meals (dinner from last night, as well as breakfast and lunch today) and transportation to and from the hotel.  But…well let me just run you through my last few days here. (Bear with me, I know it's long, but I like to think it's at least a little interesting!)

Thursday: Thursday was my first day where I had nothing school related to do.  Wednesday I had just finished my final exam for my partner university class (which I later found out I failed) and so Thursday was a day for Annalise and I to hang out and cross things off our bucket list.  What we ended up being able to cross off was “Win a prize at Neverland” (which is the indoor amusement park we had gone to earlier in the semester), and “Leave our Mark on the City”, we did that by giving the rest of our 70 or so unused tickets to a little girl who was standing in line right behind us.  She looked like she had about 15-20 tickets in her hand and the look of shock and awe on her face, her mom’s face, and her grandma’s face was truly priceless.  It was a great feeling knowing that we probably made a little girl’s day and that we might have (at least slightly) changed the image of Americans in the mom’s eyes.  Annalise told her that we were Americans that were leaving soon and so we wouldn’t be able to use the tickets and so we wanted her daughter to have them.  It really was a priceless moment.  And, unlike some physical mark of proof-of-being-there, I feel like this one might last quite a bit longer.

Thursday night, however, was a completely different story.  Annalise came over after dinner for an end of the year sleep-over and while we were watching an awesome show called “Sherlock” (bet you can’t guess what it’s about!)  Sometime at around midnight or so, while we were watching, there came a moment where I felt super incredibly sick and ran to the bathroom so that if I did throw up, well, it would be in the toilet.  Now, to be fair, I had been drinking a bit (but seriously, just a bit, one mixed drink with some of the leftover alcohol from what we had bought during the semester) and so at first it seemed like maybe I had drunk too much…unfortunately for that case, I was not drunk.  After not puking in the bathroom, I went to the kitchen to grab some plastic bags in case I ended up throwing up in my room later, or without enough time to make it all the way to the bathroom.  Well, halfway back to my room, BOOM! Puked up half the contents of my stomach (sorry if that was a bit graphic).  Annalise came running out of my room to make sure I was ok and we headed into the bathroom to flush the contents of the bag and to let me brush my teeth, etc.  Annalise made me look at her and by the steady gaze I was able to hold she knew (like I did) that I was not drunk.  In any case, I got new bags and we headed back to my room to continue watching. 

Now, for the next part of this story, you will have to bear with me on times because it’s all kind of a blurry mess, also the point where Thursday night becomes Friday morning is also a little hard to define—of course, there’s the technical way of looking at it, which is midnight as the cut-off point, but I didn’t feel like being technical then and so I won’t try to be now.  So it’s the middle of the night, or a little past, and instead of continuing the episode, I opt for just going right to bed.  That didn’t’ last long, however, because the nausea didn’t go away and I found myself frequenting the side of the bed where my vomit-bag was.  At around 2 in the morning, or so, when I woke up to throw up, I hear Yelena in the bathroom doing the same thing.  If I hadn’t known before, this just confirmed that I was not drunk-throwing up, there was actually something wrong.  At about 4 or 5 in the morning I actually did run to the bathroom because I actually did have to go.  It was late (ok, early) and I had just woken up, I wasn’t adjusted to the light of the bathroom and so I didn’t realize at first that the door to Yelena’s room (the bathroom has two doors, one to go into the hallway and one to go right into her room) wasn’t closed completely (just mostly).  I mumbled out and “I’m sorry” and closed the door.  However, once I was headed back to my room, she called me into her room and told me to call the doctor because obviously we were both really sick—and she seemed to be worse off than I was.

Part of the…bonus, I suppose, of being an IES student is that they give you student medical insurance so that if you ever need a doctor, you call the number on the card they give you and a doctor will come to your house.  Well, I took Yelena’s card as well as mine (so I would have her info as well) and dialed the number.  The conversation started in Spanish…I explained that there were two of us that were sick, we were both throwing up, I had a headache and she also felt feverish.  It was when I started saying the numbers—one at a time, that I think he caught on I didn’t speak Spanish and the line transferred to someone who spoke English.  In that time, I think it got a little bit lost that there were two of us that needed attention.  I had given Yelena’s information first, but the woman on the other end kept referring to that information as mine, and I just went with it because it really wasn’t that big of a deal. But then she asked if there were two people that were sick and I said yes, and so I gave her my name, but she didn’t ask for any more information than that.  Then she told me that within the next three hours a doctor would show up.  Welcome to Buenos Aires.

I knew they had my phone number and so I turned the volume on my phone up, but I was also exhausted.  So, to try and balance out the need for sleep and the need to be awake, I left the light on, and tried to sleep lightly.  Annalise, being the trooper she is, almost always woke up with me when she heard me throwing up and would try to comfort me in some way.  She was awake when I made the phone call and, groggy as she was, she was always trying to be helpful to whatever I or Yelena needed.  Well, at 7:30 (or so) in the morning, when the buzzer finally went off indicating there was someone at the door downstairs that needed to be let in, I went to the intercom and the lady on the other end told me she was the doctor.  Not trusting myself to not throw up in an elevator ride and walking down a hallway and back, I asked Annalise if she would answer the door. Kind as she is, she accepted.  When she got back upstairs (to the fourth floor), the doctor went to Yelena’s room, took her temperature, asked a few questions and then wrote out all the medicine she would need.  She then came into my room and told me that she wasn’t allowed to treat me because they had only paged her about one girl and so, either another doctor would come or she would end up coming back.  She even called her…whoever sends out the pages, and they said they didn’t have any more for her.  So…I went untreated. She did, however, tell me that based on the looks of it, she would probably tell me the same things she told Yelena and that I’d need the same medicines.  Now, I’m sure you’re wondering where my host mom is in all of this…she’s sleeping.  Just sleeping in her room.  She told us later that she heard noise during the night, but didn’t know what it was so she just went back to sleep. Yeah.

Anyways, so the doctor leaves, Annalise let her out, and Yelena is left with a doctor’s list of medicines to buy and take, the only problem is that neither of us are up for walking outside, let alone asking someone for the medicines on the list, so—you may have guessed—St. Annalise volunteered to go to the pharmacy and pick up the medicines.

Friday: This is where Friday starts because, even though at this point in the story it’s about 8:00 in the morning, this is where the pattern of the day starts up.  Annalise got back at around 8:15 or so, in which time I had already fallen asleep, and she told us what had happened.  She went into the Pharmacy and just told them that she had two sick friends and the doctor had given them this paper but she couldn’t really read it all and so she hoped they knew what they were doing.  They did, and they helped her find all the things she needed.  Thankfully it wasn’t actually a prescription and it was more of a list of over-the-counter medicines to buy, for the most part at least, and so she was able to buy enough for both of us. 

One of the two medicines was something of which we needed to take 20-30 drops every 12 hours. The only definite time reference I have is that our first dose of those drops was at 8:30 (ok, it was 8:26, but we rounded up) because I needed to remember it for later. The other medicine was a bubble-gum flavored Pepto-Bismol type of medicine that we needed to take any time we threw up.  Annalise, being the wonderful person that she is, also bought three bottles of Gatorade for each of us.  And I don’t know if it’s the fact that it was made in a different country or if my stomach actually held it down (which it couldn’t do for water, by the way…I tried), but it tasted SO GOOD!  Probably the best Gatorade I have ever had and am ever likely to have ever again.  Anyways, the rest of the day was spent with me going in and out of sleep, drinking my Gatorade, and trying to stay comfortable with the sporadic temperature changes my body was having.  At one point, I know this conversation happened:

Me: [Half asleep] Annalise…can I have an ice cube?

Annalise: No, you may not have ice cream.

Me: No, a cube.

Annalise: [Trying to sooth the sick and obviously out-of-it girl] Oh sure, you can have an ice cream cube.

Me: [Laughing a little] No, not an ice cream cube, just an Ice Cube!

Annalise: Oooooohh, sure, I’ll get one for you.

Me: Can you just bring me the whole tray so I can pour the rest of them all over my body?

Annalise: …no, no I will not.  But I will get you a glass of ice.

Me: …ok. Thank you.

And so then she got me my glass of ice, I put some of my Gatorade in it, and enjoyed to most refreshing drink that has ever touched my lips.  Now, you must understand, this day for me started so much earlier than 8:00 when Annalise got back with the medicine, and so by the time it was 10:30 or so, I felt like I had been sleeping all day and the day was mostly gone, it was a hard concept to realize that I actually had much more time left in the day.  One thing I do know, however, is that my host mom was showing the apartment to potential renters that day, and there was showing at 11.  Of course, once my host mom came and checked in on us in the morning, she told us that we needed to stay sleeping and resting and that people can see what a room looks like even if there’s someone in the bed.  That was also when she told us that she had been sick and throwing up all night just a couple nights ago, and so what we thought was food poisoning was probably just some stomach virus.  So…I guess that clears that up.

In any case, the people came and looked at the apartment, Yelena and I were both sleeping and Annalise was still in my (king-sized) bed with me, using my computer and making sure I (or Yelena) didn’t need anything.  I kept drifting in and out of sleep, occasionally taking my Pepto-Bismol-like medicine, but less and less frequently as the day went on.  At around 1 or so Annalise decided to head out.  And after reassuring me that sleeping all day was not only not lazy, but a good thing for me to do, I was well enough to walk her to the door and let her out.  If I had known that would be the last time I saw her before getting back to school, I probably would have said a better goodbye, but at the time, we thought we would for sure meet up at the airport.  Well clearly that’s not what happened.

The rest of my day was spent sleeping more, showering once, and packing a bit.  I asked my host mom before she left for the weekend if she had a scale so I could weigh my bags, but unfortunately she didn’t, so I just had to play it by…weight.  I figured as long as I could still relatively easily lift my bags, they should be under the 23kg (50lb) weight limit.  I think I only ended up packing my one big back that day, maybe I started on my second checked-bag, I’m not really sure.  What I am sure of, however, is that by the end of Friday I was feeling a lot better than I had at the beginning of Friday.  I was craving real food (don’t worry, I didn’t eat any!) but out host mom had made us some chicken broth and white rice.  At Dr. Annalise’s suggestion, I just had one spoonful to see how it would settle in my stomach before I ate more.  Unfortunately, it did not settle very well.  Then again, all I had had for the past 18 hours was Gatorade…and ice cubes.  It didn’t make me throw up, but it did make my stomach growl and gurgle at me.  So it was then, at about 11:30pm that I decided to call it a night and just went to bed.

Saturday:  My last day in Argentina (I had thought at the time).  I had slept a full 8 hours without waking up once—that was an awesome achievement for me!  That was my first indicator that I was doing better than I had been.  I remembered to take my drops again at 8:30, I showered, and I continued packing…which took a lot less time than I thought it would.  At about 11 I was already done, with only needing to throw a few random things into my backpack.  I was fairly certain that my bags were underweight, but I had no way to actually prove that, I figured I’d just wait until I got to the airport for my 9:00pm flight to check and potentially rearrange a few things once there…not what ended up happening, but I’m getting ahead of myself.  Anyways, it was about that time when Yelena came in and said that since it was our last day here, and we had both been feeling better, we should go to the Recoleta fair that we had been planning on going to anyways.  I agreed and she said that she would just need a little bit of time to get ready.  Now, the Recolelta fair is probably not actually as exciting as it sounds.  It is a market place that happens in the neighborhood of Recoleta every Saturday and Sunday, and this would be our last visit there, plus we may or may not have needed to do some last minute souvenir-shopping. 

At about noon (the time had flown by because I was on my computer) I checked to see what Yelena was doing, and the answer to that question was: napping.  I figured I shouldn’t bother her and I’d let her sleep as much as she needed to.  Well, once she finally woke up (at about noon) we headed out. Our first stop was a grocery store almost next door to us to buy crackers because we were both incredibly hungry.  Next stop was the bank so I could take out some pesos to make sure I had enough for the fair, the taxi to the bus stop, and the bus (I’ll explain later).  Then we walked to the fair, which is about 9-10 blocks away, which is actually really close…for healthy people.  And I don’t know what it is about her, but even while recovering from incredibly sickness, Yelena walks ridiculously fast.  Of course, she was also meeting someone at the fair so she could say by to them, but they weren’t even there yet, and based off of other times walking with her, I know she’s just a fast walker.  We made it to the park in 20 minutes, but both of us needed to sit down for a minute once we got there…of course, hers was more of a literal minute while I wanted more of a figurative one, but she was a woman on a mission for souvenirs and so she was just go, go, go the whole time.

Now, at these fairs, I like to stroll through the stands and look at all the things there are to see if any of them are what I might be looking for.  But Yelena, as you may have guessed, walked right by all of the stands because she knew exactly what she was looking for.  She bought a few things for her sister, mom, and boyfriend’s parents, and then she decided to sit down on a bench and that was when I went back and looked at things more closely and ended up being able to buy a gift that was the perfect combination of all the things I had wanted in a gift for this specific person.  I then went back to the bench she had been sitting at and she told me that she had called her friend and she (Jasmine) was on her way.  We met up with Jasmine about two minutes later and happened to run into another couple IES students.  It was nice to be able to say bye to some more people, and get a little more closure on the trip because at the end of the IES sponsored farewell party, I ended up leaving in a hurry because some of us in my group felt a bit sick.

After saying our goodbyes, we rushed back home to pack our newly-bought souvenirs…of course, we didn’t actually rush home…but it sure felt like it.  We got back home at around 3:30pm and one thing I had found out at the park was that I didn’t have enough credit left on my phone to send any more texts, and it didn’t seem like a big enough deal to put more money on because what would I need it for anyways?  It would have saved me a lot of panic to put money on…but again, I’m getting ahead of myself.  I couldn’t help but fall asleep for half an hour (it felt like more than that though, which is always nice in a nap) and then finished packing up my bag (minus my laptop) and was dinking around on my computer for a while.  At about 4:45 Yelena told me I should call a cab to take us to the bus station.  We honestly had a bit of a whining match to see who would have to call.  I didn’t want to because I had talked to the doctor and I was really tired, she didn’t want to because people tended to have a hard time understanding her with her strong American accent.  I ended up being the one who called. I used her phone (because mine was out of money) but got cut off in the middle of the call because her phone was out of money.  She then suggested we use the house phone to call and that’s what I did. 

The only hiccup in the conversation was when he asked for a landline number to call back on.  I have no idea what the house number is.  I’ve never used it and it’s never been given to me.  I know I was calling on it, but you don’t need to know a phone’s number in order to use it!  I just told him (a little too whiningly for a normal conversation…) that I didn’t have a landline, I only had my cell.  He seemed kind of taken aback and asked me for my cell number again.  Not three minutes later the buzzer goes off and I ask into the intercom who it is, sure enough, our taxi is here.  Seriously, this had never happened before in our time here, usually it was at least 15 minutes until the cab got to where you wanted it to be.  I guess this guy was just in the neighborhood.

With so little time to actually really pack up our bags of everything we needed, it felt like a very rushed goodbye to the house we had only known for a month.  And, unfortunately, in the rush, I forgot the rest of my Gatorade and crackersL.  We made it downstairs, the cabby somehow fit all our bags into the cab (there was already something in the trunk, so only one of our suitcases would fit back there, there was definitely some creative work in getting all the bags plus us two into the cab.  Ironically enough, the cab was playing a song that I can only assume was named “Oh, Mr. Cabby” something along those lines.  I just remember Yelena and I looking at each other and almost bursting out laughing at such a ridiculous song after such a stressful few days.  We made it to the bus station and right as we were pulling up in a cab, so was a bus pulling up to the station.  Now see, the thing about the bus is, it’s one of the cheapest ways to get to the airport.  The airport is a good 40-45 minutes away from downtown and, well, as a cab ride—that really adds up.  So for just $15US you could catch a shuttle bus (with storage underneath for your luggage) to the airport and it would drop you off at the terminal you needed to go to. While we were riding the bus, Yelena and I commented to each other how it was such a great feeling to know that we would be home soon.  Of course we had enjoyed our stays, but we were just ready to go home.

So we finally made it to the airport. We unloaded our bags. Walked to the end of the area (ok, so I don’t know my Airport terminology very well, the lobby?) to where American Airlines was…and then didn’t know what to do.  We started to go to the baggage check line, but the woman working there kindly directed us to a self-check-in before we could check our bags.  There were attendants at each station, helping the poor, lost Americans (and I’m sure others) check in correctly.  The attendant at the station I went to politely asked me where I was flying today and I told her Dallas.  She then made a face and, well you know that sound you make when you suck in air through clenched teeth, the way that kind of signifies that what the person just said or did was a bad choice? Well, that’s what she did.  She then lead me over to the same woman that had just directed me to the self-check-in station, handed her my passport, and told her I was on the flight for Dallas.

The woman checked a list, and I could see several names highlighted in green. Apparently I was on that list (I don’t know if I was one of the green names or not, but I like to think I was…it makes me feel special somehow) and so she directed me into the line at my right while Yelena came up and was directed into the line at my left.  At this point I wasn’t too fazed, just a little confused.  It wasn’t until I overhead the conversation in broken English ahead of me that I started to get worried.  They said that the plane that was supposed to have come from Dallas never made it, I’m pretty sure it never left the Dallas airport, and so all the people that were supposed to be on that flight (I’m assuming all the people that were in line with me) needed to change to another flight into another city.  Of course, with that in mind, you might be able to imagine the pace of the line.  In case you can’t, I’ll tell you. It was very slow.  Very, very slow. 

Fortunately enough, there came a spot in the line where Yelena and I were actually right next to each other (in different lanes) and so I could catch her up on what was happening in my line, but her line was moving much more quickly and so it was a very short and rushed conversation.  She ended up finishing way ahead of me, but because neither of us really knew what was going on, or what was going to be going on with my flight (who knew, perhaps I’d be moved onto her flight?) she waited for me.  Once I finally was called up to one of the stations, they told me that all the flights for tonight were very full.  About 5 minutes of her using the computer later (I think she might have been a little new because a manager had to keep coming over to show her how to do things, or maybe this was just a new situation for her…) she told me that the airline had moved my flight to the next day. 

I was kind of in shock.  I had no idea how to handle this new information and I was freaking out a little bit because this was not how I had planned for this day to go.  She told me that they would give me a voucher for a hotel room, dinner, breakfast, and lunch the next day, also for a cab ride to the hotel, and she told me that I needed to be back here by 5:00pm tomorrow for my flight to Miami and then St. Louis (she actually said “Seattle” at first but when I asked her…ok, but when I said with perhaps a little too much panic in my voice, “Seattle?!?” she double checked and assured me it was St. Louis).  She told me that at the other end of the…lobby…the taxi company’s kiosk was there and I should give them the voucher and they would do the rest.  So I got over there and saw one of the people who had been standing behind me in line waiting to hear that our flights had been cancelled, apparently he and I were in the same boat. 

The man running the kiosk took us outside and seemed to be looking for a particular cab, he told us to “wait here a moment” and then he left us standing outside by the parking lot.  In about three minutes we had two people come up to us and try to get us as customers for their taxi, but we sort of told them no both times.  What I mean by sort of told them no, is that I was still sort of in shock and so Spanish was definitely not coming to me—English barely was—and so the guy I was with told them in English (even though they were speaking in Spanish) that we had another cab waiting…they eventually walked away.  Also during that waiting time, I found out the guy had been on vacation here and he had been so close to leaving the day before, but for whatever reason decided against it.  Huh, some luck.  Once our guy finally did come back, though, we hopped into the car he showed us to and started driving back towards the city that I had just left. 

It was kind of funny, actually, I remembered my very first hours in the city, I was taking that same route (well, ok, it was probably not the same route, but for all I know, it could have been).  Driving into the city with someone I didn’t know (I drove in with Yelena), not talking at all, just kind of taking it all in: the sights, the fact that you’re there, contemplating all the things that brought you to that moment on that day.  It was almost like déjà vu, but at the same time, it was something completely new.  It was an interesting feeling that I don’t think I can actually describe because it doesn’t happen often enough for there to be adequate words for it.

When we did pull up to the hotel, our luggage was whisked away by a bellhop and we were ushered inside.  Now, I must tell you, this hotel is gorgeous. The lobby is beautiful with elegant decorations, there were even wedding photos being taken to one side of the lobby.  And there I was, in my t-shirt, cut-off jean shorts, sneakers, and backpack.  Needless to say, I felt slightly underdressed.  I walked up to the front desk, completely intimidated and showed the woman my voucher for the hotel room.  She asked for the ones for the meals and I gave them to her.  After filling out a form, she gave me my room key and directed me to the elevators, which were, of course, right passed the woman in her wedding dress taking pictures. Yep, never felt classier.

I got to my room and I couldn’t help but laugh.  It was so gorgeous and I was so out of place!  I have a giant bed all to myself, a bathroom with a separate shower and bathtub, the TV stand is absolutely beautiful, the desk is huge, and despite being on the third floor of a hotel in the middle of downtown, the view is stunning.  There is a beautiful old building right across from me, but between my room and the building is a lovely little garden area and I can see onto the patio below.  It’s gorgeous. I felt so out of place, but I wasn’t really complaining.  The next thing on the agenda, though, was to call my parents because I wasn’t sure if they knew my flight had gotten cancelled and rescheduled. And this is where the panic started to set in.

I tried so many different ways to contact the outside world, it’s almost ridiculous.  First, I tried setting up my computer to try to get some internet so I could email my parents, or facebook them, or skype, or something.  Well, of course you need to pay for the internet, and so I went to the site that it takes you to, and all you had to do was plug in your name and room number (and how you were paying the $20.57US for 24 hours of internet), but it said that I was not a valid user.  Well that’s not what you want to hear!  So I tried using a phone card that the airline gave me, but my phone was out of money.  So I figured because it was an emergency, I may as well try the landline even though it might be crazy expensive.  So I was trying to figure out what the code for calling outside the hotel was, but there were so many options. However, one of the options was “To use a calling card, dial the operator”, so that’s what I did.  He told me all I had to do was dial 9 first.  So I tried that, but the instructions on the card were confusing and I think you have to put money on it in order to make it work, so I never got that to work for me. 

Then I remembered, in my desperation, that I had a calling card that IES gave me when I got off the plane.  It had over an hour on it, and I had only used about 20 minutes of it to talk to my dad in the first two weeks I had gotten there.  Luckily I still had it with my—it was in my backpack, thank goodness, because all the rest of my luggage was still with the bellhop who knows where.  I tried on my cell phone again (I knew that this card had its own minutes and so it would be ok to use my un-credited phone to call) but I got a message saying that my minutes on the card had been used up.  I knew that wasn’t possible—I knew I had only called once and that I still had time left on it.  But then I read the fine print on the card.  “Vencimiento: caducará 90 días después del primer uso.” “Expiration: This card will expire 90 days after its first use”.  And out goes that opportunity.  I tried again to connect to the internet, still with no avail.  I figured they just hadn’t put me in the system yet and I just needed to wait it out, that’s what I kept telling myself, at least.

With nothing left to do but wait and hope that it didn’t get too late before I was entered into the system so I could connect to the internet so I could tell my parents not to expect me the next morning, I decided I may as well start journaling.  It was a very anxious entry, I must say.  But while I was writing, the doorbell rang (Oh, did I not mention the room has a doorbell? It does.) I opened the door, and the bellhop rushed in with my suitcases and then rushed out again.  I was so shocked at seeing him I just stood there holding the door and it wasn’t until he was already gone that I realized I should have tipped him.  Oops.  I figured because my luggage had been delivered to the right room that meant I was entered into the system and so my internet should work.  Luckily, it did.

I was finally able to talk with my parents and let them know what was going on.  They had had no idea.  My whole family was there, minus my sister, but plus my grandparents.  We were able to talk about what had happened at the airport, the fact that even though I wasn’t coming home today, at least I’d have an extra day to get healthy and at least there wasn’t anything wrong with my health.  Despite the fact that I wasn’t going to get to see my grandparents at the airport, I was still able to skype with them and tell them I love them.  I was also able to put in a few food requests to my parents for foods that I’ve been missing (breakfast sausage, bagels, etc.).  It was a bummer though, to be talking to them and to be able to say, “Yep, this is when my plane should have been taking off.”  Oh well, I guess the good part is that I’m safe.

After I finished skyping with them, I turned on the TV and found a movie playing (Role Models), and by the time it was done, I was so tired I decided to just go right to bed, without dinner.  The pillows were so soft, and the blankets so warm, it might have been the best night sleep I’ve gotten in Buenos Aires. And that brings me to…

Sunday: I woke up at about 6:30 this morning and couldn’t help but think, “I should have been landing in Dallas right about now”.  I knew that breakfast started at 7 so I stayed in bed for a little while longer. Then, when I tried to turn on the light, I realized that the power was out—the clock was off, and the lights in the entire room (minus the bathroom) were not working.  Meh, that’s life.  So I changed into some jeans and my hoodie for breakfast, but when I went to the first floor where breakfast was, I realized I was way underdressed. For breakfast. I’ve never been underdressed for breakfast before, and I’ve gone to breakfast in my pajamas.  So I rushed back to my room, changed out of my hoodie and into a nicer top and went back down.  I explained that I got a voucher for breakfast, he asked my room number, and when I told him, he let me in.

When I walked in…Whoa.  There weren’t many people there—just enough to make me feel awkward about coming in alone.  But then I saw the tables. The tables were overflowing with fresh fruits. There were three different types of juices in outrageously large containers, there was cereal, there were nuts, there were rolls, there were croissants, there were pancakes, there were pastries of all types, there was smoked salmon.—for breakfast!!  Where does that even make sense??  I was so overwhelmed with options I just grabbed a plate and started piling on the fruits…I may have also grabbed a dulce de leche filled churro, but that’s beside the point.  I sat down at a table, and despite my best efforts, I was done with my meal in about 2 minutes.  Not really knowing what to do with my plate or anything…I just left it there, and walked away.  It was pretty awkward, but the fruit was so good it almost didn’t matter anymore. 

I went back to my room and because the power was still out, I couldn’t watch TV and so I turned on my computer to see how much I could get done before the battery died (I couldn’t charge it so when it died it died).  I remembered that my online class starts today and so I wanted to see if I could maybe save any document onto my computer so that I could read it without internet access for as long as my battery lasts on the plane.  Well, I found that there is a video introduction on the course website and so I started watching that, but it needed to load.  So, while it was loading, I started typing up this here blog entry.  Well, before the video could fully load (and before I was anywhere close to being done with this incredibly long post), my battery was about to die.  So I saved my work and turned off my computer. 

I figured that without any of my electronics I may as well sit and journal.  While I was writing by the window, the sun was coming up so it was getting easier and easier to write, and twice during my writing the lights came back on.  Twice, because the first time they stayed on for only about 10 seconds before turning off again.  Once they came on the second time, however, they stayed on.  Once my journal entry was finished, I decided to continue writing this saga, and now I’m pretty much done.  I have 4 hours left in the hotel, in which I think I might shower and then watch a bit of TV, perhaps while facebooking, and then (hopefully) I’ll be back on my way to the airport to be on my way out of here and back home.  After missing my grandparents, but maybe seeing my cousins in Miami, I hope I finally just make it home safe and sound.

If you’ve actually read this whole post, congratulations!  You should celebrate by, I don’t know, treating yourself to something nice, maybe take a nap? I’m sure it took you a while to get through all of this, but this is what happened to me and I needed to at least pretend to be able to tell someone.  So here it is: the written version of my (hopefully) final four days in Buenos Aires.

Besos,

Kiki