Metamorphosis

BsAs is becoming smaller these days but unfortunately the same can´t be said for the cockroaches, which despite a second attempt at fumigation, are still very much alive and crawling. We´re getting used to the stench of insecticide. Not for the first time, I´ve imagined we could feature in a plot not dissimilar to Kafka's 'Metamorphosis´

I win the bimbo point this time. Out at a waterside restaurant in the city´s smart refurbished port, Puerto Madero, I see a large, black insect crawling under the table. Feet up on the chair next to me, in a blind paralysed panic I croak 'GET SOMEONE!!´at a bewildered Sare who obediently rushes off to get a waiter. I´m having visions of the large roach scurrying up my chair, thinking about it´s repulsiveness being just inches away. I´m so scared, I can´t even move my eyeballs.

The whole restaurant is looking but I don´t care. A concerned looking waiter comes to my aid. It feels like eternity. Under the table, he catches it in his bare hands, looks at me and smiles. I can see what he is thinking.

'Stupid English. How can someone be so pathetic? Scared of a harmless little cricket.'

Ouch.

The house of horrors

Unfortunately I can´t yet say in Spanish "The drains are blocked", "The kitchen pipework´s leaking", "They are demolishing an internal wall next door, it´s adjacent to my bedroom and the noise is intolerable" or "There´s a cockroach under my bed, AGAIN"

Broken English

Is it just me or does second language immersion f*** with your head? I say this because something strange is happening to my mother tongue. Words over two syllables are not so easily retrieved and you end up thinking in a British-slowed-down-simplified-for-non-native-speakers, patois.

Sacrificing my reasonably extensive use of English vocabulary to make room in my little brain for "I want a swimming hat, please" or "I really like ginger" in Spanish. Managed to squeeze out a comprehensible "We have no hot water" today - living in this flat becomes more like some kind of permanent campsite everyday.

We sampled some Tango again last night - as Sare so eloquently puts it in her blog "Everybody tango's here. Everybody. Including people you wouldn't expect. 'Cool' guys with beany hats, uncool guys in football shirts, men who look about ninety"

Everybody, that is, except me. I´m sure you can guess what I was doing.

It was pretty cool despite my lack of participation. A young guy caressed an accordion, another pounded a battered piano with such passion and mastery, you could feel the air quake. All the while, the dancefloor was full of embracing couples performing what on Discovery Channel would only be described as an elaborate mating ritual - but oh, so damn sexy.

No tengo dinero o Marmite pero muchas cucharachas

...and as anyone that knows me well, this means crisis.

The money thing´s a right pain in the arse - despite numerous emails to the letting agent my rent is 3 weeks late. So I´m in South America with an empty bank account and a flat which, despite an attempt at fumigation by a man who really looked like he spends too long with cockroaches, is full of them.

I´m a nervous wreck before getting the cereal out of the food cupboard, putting shoes on or going to the bathroom - actually to be honest, all the time. I am convinced they´re out to get me and there´s nothing I can do about it.

Worse still, I´ve run out of Marmite. I´ve posted pleas on a Buenos Aires expat site asking where I can get some and some kind soul has responded with a recipe to make my own with brewers yeast and soy sauce. Hmmmmm.

Thankfully, the Spanish course is getting better so we´ve found ourselves getting a crammed tube to Uni every morning and coming home with homework. Am looking forward to the day when I don´t have to say ´Lo siento, no comprendo. Soy Inglesa y no hablo Espanol´ every time someone tries to communicate!

In an attempt to do something about our rapidly increasing waistlines, we´ve got health club membership so feel very much like card-carrying BA citizens with our daily routine. Just as well as we´re fast discovering that Buenos Aires lives by night. People don´t go out till 11pm and don´t have to be 22 to stay out till breakfast.

Swimming today, I decided that Sare and I would award each other ´Bimbo points´ to whoever performs the most brainless act of the day. Today´s point goes to Sare for losing her locker key in the deep end!

Great expectations....

Happily, our uneasy coexistence with our uninvited flatmates will soon be resolved by a bit of expert fumigation. It can´t happen soon enough for my liking.

Since the last blog, it was recommended we take a daytrip to the coastal town of Tigre. The tourist information was, helpfully, closed (but probably about as much use as an open one - they seem to hand you anything just to get rid of you!)

On exiting the spacious, clean station, the first thing we noticed was a McDonald´s strategically placed on a pretty riverside, lined with willow trees. Felt very European and reminded me of the Thames at Shepperton lock! Noisy motorised catamarans ferried tourists up and down the Delta. The town itself had an air of desolation and I couldn´t help thinking we must be missing something.

To console ourselves, we joined the snap-happy river crew but were soon corralled onto the boat equivalent of a National Express coach. Such a beautiful day and we were to be contained indoors.

The Delta´s silt islands boasted an array pretty stilt houses but not really worth getting the camera out for - bar one exception. The ex-president´s holiday home was one of the weirdest things I´ve seen, having been hermetically sealed in a glass box!

We´ve explored some more of the city´s fantastic parks. Parque 3 de Febrero is home to an expanse of lush green palm trees and boating lakes. It´s much like Central Park but the many parakeets and lovers embracing or practising Tango, give it a distinctly Latino feel.

Sunday is San Telmo market day. It´s so different to Palermo and most other barrios in the city. Beautiful crumbling buildings, cobbled streets lined with trendy shops, antiques and music on every street corner were a sharp reminder of Brighton´s North Laines. I loved it and admit feeling a pang of homesickness.

Later the same day, we were invited to a friend of a friend´s house for Mate. Mate is to the Argentine what tea is to the British. Everywhere you go, you´ll see locals carrying Thermos flasks sharing small cups with silver straws. Definitely an acquired taste, the bitter Mate leaves are reminiscent of brewed poor quality home-grown.

We´ve also started teaching and being taught. Our landlady´s son Federico - who bears a striking resemblance to Noel Gallagher - comes over on a Monday so we can frighten each other with our respective verb forms.

We were really looking forward to today - our first day at the language facility of Buenos Aires University but we sat in the room like a bunch of rabbits stuck in the glare of headlights. Didn´t understand a bloody thing! Not looking forward to going through it all again tomorrow....

Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!

I know this is pathetic but this morning we needed help. By 2 pm neither of us had showered or eaten and Sare spent a twitchy night, awake, bashing her floral bedlinen.

Why?

Bloody cockroaches! One in the kitchen and just for good measure, one in the bathroom too. I didn´t get aversion therapy before I left so consequently, what should have been a relaxing public holiday in the park, turned into a military pest control exercise. Honestly, the state we were in was far better than your favourite comedy sketch.

Luckily, one of the key skills we seem to have mastered on the trip so far, is the ability to break out in spontaneous fits of belly-hurting laughter - great remedy for any dark moment.

We´re learning too, that while this city might have more than its fair share of dog poo and the odd cockroach, its inhabitants are possibly the most hospitable, generous and kind that I´ve come across. Last night we were taken for a gorgeous meal, complete with champagne and a lovely wine by someone we hadn´t met before.

Thank you Francisco.