Hola everyone! It has been too long for Lake Monster Culture to remain unupdated. I took a moment to visit the site, and noticed how much is yet to be recounted. This is not acceptable! Memory alone cannot be trusted. Why have I waited so long? I have an excuse. I've been absolutely railed by flu, cold, and cough. Not together all at once, but each waiting their respective turns. It is as if they are a manifestation of a trio of stray city dogs that have all found a territory in which to occupy, and they piss all over my bloodstream for a few moments before the next one comes along and claims it for itself. There are many of these in Buenos Aires. Dogs I mean.

I tried to write an entry a few days ago when I was in the midst of the flu. It's quite funny to read. I'm about as articulate as a caveman reciting the construction of a house of various fruits and twigs. The flu, while not as bad as the one I had in NZ, was unique in that it attacked my mind. But hey! At least that phase is over.

So yes, I'm sick with a rough sounding cough, so this makes it about five days now of bombardment. There is no reason to blame my body for imperfection of workmanship, nor to appeal to my warranty service. Those first few days in B.A., not only was I exposed to a climate change of an average temperature of (Celsius/Farenheit) 38/101 degrees while in Kelowna to 15/60 while in B.A. daytime, but more accurately closer to 1/34 as it gets that low here at night. So that's a 65 degree change in, mas o menos, a single day. I'm one to consider my odds, and here I had to concede: the chance of getting sick due to rapid climate change was almost automatic.

{ At least I did not cut my hair in Canada as I had often planned to, due to the heat. But here, the hair keeps me warm and lets me settle in and at least look somewhat local - longer hair is many times more common here than the States. }

I begin with the negative not because it indicates the mean, mode, or average of my days here (who am i to have ever believed in such things anyway?) but rather to bring the positive into some sort of organization. This city of 3 million proper (and 10 million including its vast suburbs) bustles with passion and busy mind. Where can I really begin? If you are interested in some history, you might want to visit Toby's summary from his Watson last year. I'm simply going to stay in the present surroundings for this entry.

When I first arrived, I found a terrific hostel, Correo Caminos, with a perfect size, location, and mixture of staff and visitors. From my travels, I have come to try to recognize when I've stumbled across a place at its prime moment to visit. This is as much true for the hostel as it is for this incredible city. Why? OK, I lied. I'm going to have to give some quick history:

During the 90's, Argentina pursued an aggressive economic campaign to encourage international trade and essentially propped its currency, the peso, insisting on linking its value one to one with the American dollar. Over the late 90's this strategy began to unravel as Argentines increasingly began to hedge their security by converting much of their savings into US dollars. This caused a rippling effect of drastic domestic inflation that caused a crisis in 2001, when the government was forced to abandon this policy. The damage, however, has been significant, and at this point, almost two years later, the peso is now worth only about thirty cents US.

What does this mean? It means that, currently, US visitors to this country can expect to pay only a third of what they're used to back home. Combine this with the ample attractions of a highly developed and world-class city that is at times more European than Europe yet distinctly Latin American, and you have a place I must urge anyone to visit at the nearest opportunity. I'm no economist, but it wouldn't shock me if the hard-working Argentines recover their economy back to ship-shape in just a few years.

I can see how some people might hesitate because they've never learned Spanish. I did myself. But this is not the Spanish that's tucked away and hardly visible in most parts of the states. Nor is it really anything like Mexico. Much of Argentine dialect is entirely different. This is a proud place that puts Spanish to an art form.

We've all heard of tango. Natch, it was born here. In my first few days here I conquered shyness and ventured for a few lessons. It was fantastic. Not only that, through tango I made a major discovery. It is a dance that requires balance and sure, even footedness. I kept losing balance backwards. The instructor pointed out that this was probably due to me hitting heel first as I stepped. So I have learned, as I have aged I've been increasingly walking on my heels. For not just the sake of dance but also for walking, I decided this wasn't acceptable. Fighting parttime on conscious and parttime on subconscious fronts of the cerebellum, I've managed to walk again on the center of my feet, something I don't think I've done since I was a teenager. Something so simple can mean a lot for your body. I know this would not have come to me in the States. I love travel. This is what it does for you.

And what thanks do I owe the leaning of Spanish, which, after seeing it in full beauty throughout Buenos Aires, has taken hold of me? I did not think I would fall in love so quickly. I remember how difficult it was to retain interest in language classes, when they ended as soon as I left the classroom. Here, I never leave. I'm talking with the local staff about chess strategies and the guy who makes my empanadas about futbol matches and the laundry lady about where the nearest supermarket is and the chica at the club about where the drum and bass DJ is from. Spanish used to be a reason for me to look elsewhere than Latin America. I had it backwards.

Now, I managed to find a language course, which is where I left you all last. I did end up going to that first class and learned a good deal. The teacher seemed amicable and intelligent. However, I found another place that is even better for less than half the price, at which I've attended three days so far, of four hours each. The acceleration in language ability is significant, more than I had anticipated, especially with some application around the city. People here talk very fast and variably (often more with their hands than their words), but if you're friendly they usually cater you.

Nonetheless, there still is a barrier between my involvement with the city. Every day brings me more to a functioning unit of the masses, and now I can get my laundry done without much effort. But I am waiting until my knowledge improves much more before I explore anything language will greatly help, such as going to a museum or visiting some of these famous graveyards. I've chosen to engage in some areas where language is helpful but not absolutely necessary, a bit of soccer with some of the local teenagers and a bit of the very electronic-music-oriented nightlife. It works a bit differently out here. You don't really head out till around 2 or 3 and then you'll probably be bouncing till 9 or so. This made for some interesting photography while the locals went off to work and the kids a la escuela. At first I felt shameful to be out so early in the morning, with nowhere in particular to be, but that quickly subsided when I realized what a beautiful story of life was playing out before me. As I was trudging along back to the hostel, a stray grey dog escorted me for several blocks, as if I was his owner. That I am not, but I do speak enough Dog Language to hear him remind me that I don't have the words for the whole story of this place yet. It's in Spanish after all. Bear with me, y'all.

I promise you I have the Argentine bug (and not just the cold). There is so much yet to tell. Soon! A concert in a packed gymnasium with Las Pelotas, an Argentine rock dynasty. And, my first but certainly not my last real futbol stadium experience!

And, lake monster interviews should trickle in, from some Canadians and other various fascinating parties that have contacted me regarding the subject. This should tide us over while I'm a bit removed from the locale de rigeur.

P.S. Pictures will be filtering in a few a day now. I finally have a cease-fire with my equipment. Heh, Bryan, I can see you cringing at my use of military vernacular. Anycase, the Tungsten had strike three and I thought it was broken permanently, but now I'm thinking that I've weathered the worst with it. This means good because I should be a bit more reliable now. Yay!

P.P.S. Thank you Keith, for your rushed artistry on that set of MP3's. It's great to have.

To all,
Chau.