I’m beginning to learn that everything in Argentina is complicated. Buying my cell phone entailed going to 11 different stores in search of one that sold prepaid phones. Purchasing ice cream this weekend took over an hour — I had to stand in one line to pay for the treat and then wait in another to actually order and receive it. Finding fruit while in Puerto Iguazu? I tried 5 different stores before giving up. Everyone I asked told me to go to the supermarket, which was only “dos cuadros mas” (two blocks more). I quickly realized that “two blocks more” really means “some blocks more” and you’ll probably have to walk six or ten blocks. And in this case, the supermarket was closed because it was Sunday. Duh.
Though sometimes I really miss the convenience of the U.S., part of me enjoys the wild goose chases and the complex steps required to accomplish the smallest of tasks, because I always feel such a sense of achievement upon doing anything.
The only real frustration is that this country has a shortage of “monedas” or coins. And small bills are hard to come by as well. Whenever purchasing something, the cashier will tell you he doesn’t have any change and that you have to pay the exact amount. Despite the fact that your friend just paid in small bills, the clerk will insist he doesn’t have any and try to trick you into using your precious change. But sometimes when you don’t have anything smaller than 100 pesos (roughly $25 US), he honestly won’t let you make the purchase.
Now that I’m done venting, I should tell you about my trip to the Iguazu Falls. After a 17-hour bus ride (which was not as bad as it sounds), we arrived in the tiny town of Puerto Iguazu. I was part of a group of 12 and we all stayed in a sunny yellow hostel together. The weather there was perfect, and the views in the national park were truly breathtaking. I had never seen such grand natural marvels; the waterfalls were enormous and absolutely gorgeous. We took a tour that included a boat ride that took us into the falls. This experience was halfway miserable (being completely pelted with cold water) and halfway wonderful (looking up and seeing the falls cascading down onto us). It was so hard to leave this tropical haven and board the bus home.
Yesterday, I went to the gym for a “beat mix” class. It began as a normal cardio-dance class, but then things took a different turn when the instructor told us to each take a weight lifting pole. I was certainly puzzled by this new piece of equipment, but any confusion was quickly cleared up when the teacher started the routine which consisted mostly of booty drops, strutting and undulating around the pole. I never pictured myself pole dancing (especially amongst a room of old women), but there you go. This is Argentina.
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