Arrival

I think I’m going to give up worrying for Lent. I have this tendency to worry about things that I know deep down are really okay. I tend to forget to look at the big picture and realize that no matter what, things work out and I’m always moving forward. Or in my case today, Southward.

I’ve had some stress this past week or so, brought on by various situations, and the cold weather was intensifying it, causing me to whine needlessly about matters that are so small in the grand scheme of things. But all of that was lifted from my shoulders and banished into space as soon as I stepped off the plane and into the Ezeiza airport. From that moment I was just fine. I was able to see the big picture and realize how lucky I am in life.

On the way to the apartment from the airport, once in the city we drove right past what was my favorite cafe last year. A sense of excitement and nostalgia caused my heart to jump. I began to spot other familiar things and was pleased at myself for knowing where we were going. The sun beat down through the window of the car and I closed my eyes for a minute, savoring the warmth that I had needed so much. Oh yes, I’m back.

I was proud of myself today as I managed to make my way around in Spanish, arranging to get to my apartment (which is in a kick-ass location, if I say so myself), discussing the rental contract with the owner, etc. It’s a far cry from the shell-shocked Tina who arrived in Buenos Aires a year ago from Italy. This Tina is here by herself, for herself, and she’s ready to tackle the city from another angle.

The apartment’s owner and the rental agent let themselves out, and as soon as the door shut, I did my little “ha-cha-cha I’m in Buenos Aires” dance, before taking a shower and venturing out to feel some warmth from the sun and eat some lunch.

Walking on the hot cement, feeling the humidity embrace my waves to make them curly, listening to voices chatter, passing by cafes, walking on a street full of black and yellow radio taxis, passing by newsstands that don’t even bother to hide the magazines of a more sexual nature, trying to memorize faces as I made my way forward, I felt as though I had never left. It’s very strange - it’s as though I’m just continuing where I left off (well, I guess I am in a way), as though Buenos Aires held my place in line and waited for me.

I smiled inside at my fortunate location and my fortunate voyage as I finally entered a cafe I knew (hey Miss Tango, it’s that one we went to), found the perfect seat, and ate a suprema de pollo while staring at the imposing architecture of the Congreso Nacional. I was feeling a little dizzy from my flight, so every bite of nourishing food served to ground me the way I needed.

Satisfied that I had taken the first step towards caring for a jet lagged body, I went back to my apartment and fell gratefully onto the bed for a long, needed nap. The second step. Now I’m ready.

Ah, Buenos Aires. It’s good to be back.