So far, so good
We've decided to "take it easy" this morning (because we've been pushing ourselves so far up to this point) so here I am in the locutorio - the internet place.
Interestingly, the internet is way cheaper here than it was in Havana. There it was roughly $5 per hour at the closest internet place to our house, and the net was often down, not to mention it was close but still a few blocks away. This one is literally (yeah that's right, I said literally) right across the street from our apartment building, and it costs 2 pesos for an hour - about 70 cents. Something like that. So, Mom and Dad, I'll be able to keep in touch on a very regular basis!
True to form, we've already started giving people here our own names for them. The guys who run the locutorio we have dubbed Johnny (because he reminded us of Johnny S), and Johnny II (because he was works here whenever Johnny isn't here). According to Rebecca, there is an elusive Johnny III lurking about, but I haven't had the mucho gusto of discovering him yet.
We've also renamed our landlord and his dog. Again according to Rebecca, Leo looks far more like a Joe (to me he looks like a Leo, but I'm perfectly happy to call him Joe), and apparently I was the one who mistakenly renamed his dog. I was talking to him one night while his dog was maniacally bouncing up and down in front of us and for some reason I convinced myself he said the pup's name is Floppy. In fact, it's Florencia. Floppy, on the other hand, became our nickname for the chef in a cafe we ate at on Saturday who appears to have the habit of wandering around with nothing between - um - "him" and the world but his baggy black and white checkered chef's pants. ("I'm out there Jerry and I'm lovin it!")
The apartment is great (about a million times nicer than the one we had in Havana Mom and Dad, so don't worry, we are very safe and comfortable). The ceilings are superhigh and we have a microwave and a gas stove (Nicky the Fish, we were missing you last night because we attempted to turn on the oven to bake empanadas but of course the oven is apparently gas also, meaning you had to light a match to light the pilot light somewhere deep inside the oven itself. Naturally with the gas pouring out and our substantial fear of blowing ourselves up as we frantically searched for wherever the pilot light must be, we ended up using the microwave instead. Had you been here, however, we were sure you would've found it immediately and then cooked an amazing eggplant pasta for us instead.)
The gas problems do appear to be a bit of a saga, unfortunately, both within the apartment and within several of the apartment dwellers, but I won't go into all THAT detail now.
Leo (Joe) is very nice and not at all creepy as I 'd rather suspected he would be. He has an amazing collection of books and CDs and is very nice and soft-spoken. We can't figure out if he's Italian or Argentinian, gay or straight, but those mysteries will reveal themselves in time. (He's old though, so all mothers rule him out please - Becca's mom already asked if he was Jewish!)
Our little corner is ideal - as previously noted the locutorio is directly across the street, a grocery store is about ten feet away, and one of the biggest ice cream chains in BA has a store almost right next to the locutorio. Last night at about ten p.m. when Bryan Adams came on the radio and we'd already drunk one bottle of wine it became devastatingly clear to us how easy it is to run to the grocery store, buy two more bottles of wine and a siphon of soda, and then to the heladeria for what turned out to be quite possibly the most orgasmic ice cream cones any of us have ever tasted in our lives. (Yes, again, literally. Island Girl very nearly actually fell to her knees in the heladeria as she tasted her first dulce de leche ice cream.) I sense the two slightly geeky guys working on the late shift in there will soon become our new best friends.
There are also some gorgeous little cafes - Becca is now in fact enjoying a cafe con leche at the cafe outside and as every cell in my body is screaming for coffee I'm off to join her. More updates on the wonders of empanadas, sparkly scarves, and drinking wine with a siphon bottle of soda are on the way!
Interestingly, the internet is way cheaper here than it was in Havana. There it was roughly $5 per hour at the closest internet place to our house, and the net was often down, not to mention it was close but still a few blocks away. This one is literally (yeah that's right, I said literally) right across the street from our apartment building, and it costs 2 pesos for an hour - about 70 cents. Something like that. So, Mom and Dad, I'll be able to keep in touch on a very regular basis!
True to form, we've already started giving people here our own names for them. The guys who run the locutorio we have dubbed Johnny (because he reminded us of Johnny S), and Johnny II (because he was works here whenever Johnny isn't here). According to Rebecca, there is an elusive Johnny III lurking about, but I haven't had the mucho gusto of discovering him yet.
We've also renamed our landlord and his dog. Again according to Rebecca, Leo looks far more like a Joe (to me he looks like a Leo, but I'm perfectly happy to call him Joe), and apparently I was the one who mistakenly renamed his dog. I was talking to him one night while his dog was maniacally bouncing up and down in front of us and for some reason I convinced myself he said the pup's name is Floppy. In fact, it's Florencia. Floppy, on the other hand, became our nickname for the chef in a cafe we ate at on Saturday who appears to have the habit of wandering around with nothing between - um - "him" and the world but his baggy black and white checkered chef's pants. ("I'm out there Jerry and I'm lovin it!")
The apartment is great (about a million times nicer than the one we had in Havana Mom and Dad, so don't worry, we are very safe and comfortable). The ceilings are superhigh and we have a microwave and a gas stove (Nicky the Fish, we were missing you last night because we attempted to turn on the oven to bake empanadas but of course the oven is apparently gas also, meaning you had to light a match to light the pilot light somewhere deep inside the oven itself. Naturally with the gas pouring out and our substantial fear of blowing ourselves up as we frantically searched for wherever the pilot light must be, we ended up using the microwave instead. Had you been here, however, we were sure you would've found it immediately and then cooked an amazing eggplant pasta for us instead.)
The gas problems do appear to be a bit of a saga, unfortunately, both within the apartment and within several of the apartment dwellers, but I won't go into all THAT detail now.
Leo (Joe) is very nice and not at all creepy as I 'd rather suspected he would be. He has an amazing collection of books and CDs and is very nice and soft-spoken. We can't figure out if he's Italian or Argentinian, gay or straight, but those mysteries will reveal themselves in time. (He's old though, so all mothers rule him out please - Becca's mom already asked if he was Jewish!)
Our little corner is ideal - as previously noted the locutorio is directly across the street, a grocery store is about ten feet away, and one of the biggest ice cream chains in BA has a store almost right next to the locutorio. Last night at about ten p.m. when Bryan Adams came on the radio and we'd already drunk one bottle of wine it became devastatingly clear to us how easy it is to run to the grocery store, buy two more bottles of wine and a siphon of soda, and then to the heladeria for what turned out to be quite possibly the most orgasmic ice cream cones any of us have ever tasted in our lives. (Yes, again, literally. Island Girl very nearly actually fell to her knees in the heladeria as she tasted her first dulce de leche ice cream.) I sense the two slightly geeky guys working on the late shift in there will soon become our new best friends.
There are also some gorgeous little cafes - Becca is now in fact enjoying a cafe con leche at the cafe outside and as every cell in my body is screaming for coffee I'm off to join her. More updates on the wonders of empanadas, sparkly scarves, and drinking wine with a siphon bottle of soda are on the way!
posted by SarahT at 12:12 pm
1 Comments:
Soda water in wine? It's a strange, strange world out there, and I'm not leaving my cave.
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