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Mi Nombre Es Gringo (aparently)....

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Jan. 21st, 2009 | 07:39 pm

Well, this will be the mid-trip Argentina post for anyone that gives a crap about what I do.... I gotta say though, if I were someone reading this, I'd be mildly interested in reading what I had to say. I mean, really, I have never been to Argentina before this little escapade and I gotta say, this country is pretty goddamn cool.
It seems every time I leave the US I think about my brother; he has no car and no real driving desire to see anyplace to which he can't ride his bicycle. He really loves where he is. Sometimes I admire that, and wish for that, but when I'm outside of the US I remember that there are innumerable, really awesome things that you can see if only you were to go there and check them out.
This race reminds me of the Tour de Beauce, only en Espanol. One of the reasons being that I'm on my own and this is really a pretty big tour... one only has to gaze upon the start list to see that. The other reason is that they speak a different language, sadly it's Spanish here instead of French. I could at least understand French. Plus there are homeless children and feral dogs on the streets during weeknights! How exciting is that?!
I've found that there must not be many dudes in this particular region with bushy blond beards and an arm full of tattoos because I've gotten a lot of priceless looks when I walk down the streets by myself, and the bartender remembers that I tip pretty well, even for a Gringo because she pours me some pretty tall whiskey's con hielo, even after the lights have been dimmed.
It's funny because when I was in New Zealand last year I thought, "gee... am I wasting my time sitting in cafes during the day and bars at night trying to talk to the locals? Shouldn't I be out there, checking out the scenery and sampling some other element of this experience besides walking around town and stepping out in front of traffic?" What I've realized is that Mountains are all over this stupid planet and that stuff never changes, at least it doesn't change at a rate that is perceptible to human beings..... I have friends that are fighting wars on mountains right now that carry the potential risk of death, and I have friends that are out there, climbing other mountains that have been at exactly the same risk even though there are no bullets flying so to hell with mountains.
There is an osmotic quality culture posses that scenery does not for me, and that's why when my boss says, "we might be doing a race in (insert foreign country here)," my heart skips a beat in the hopes that I might get to travel for thirty hours to god knows where to go with the team. I guess I'd just rather get stabbed than fall down a crevasse....
Anyway, if I have a key to your house, or I can walk in during dinner without knocking without getting clubbed by a blunt object, you'll be getting a souvenir and I miss you. Photos of homeless children and feral dogs will follow.....

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from: newskull
date: Jan. 22nd, 2009 07:29 pm (UTC)

Sounds like an eye-opening trip.

Sorry I bugged you on Google chat this morning.

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