La Fin de Semana

It has been a weekend of integration for me. Certainly a weekend in a homestay as opposed to in a hostel.

On Saturday, I was solo for the better part of the day and night. I traveled to Recoleta which is the posh neighbourhood of Buenos Aires. The richest of Buenos Aires left San Telmo when yellow fever hit in 1871 and moved across the city to get away. The cemetery of Recoleta is the most famous attraction. It is ornate and famous for containing generations of graves of the social elite and Evita Peron. It is said that it is cheaper to live your whole life lavishly then to be buried in the cemetery of Recoleta. It was raining the whole day, so on the way I stopped for cortado y medialunas (coffee with a little milk and croissants). I visited the Museo de Bellas Artes which contained Van Gogh, Monet and a unique section on Pop art.  Jane, if you're reading this, I was wishing you were there.
I arrived back home in time for my dinner, which is generally a 3 hours before the rest of my household begins to eat. The house was full was the extended family of Susana. I stayed and socialized after I ate.
The topics we were discussing were truely beyond what I can communicate in Spanish. They varied from Argentina's standing as one of the premier countries in the world; at the very least that Argentina was the Europe of South America. On this topic, I was frequently turned to for validation.
At one point the issue of aboriginal relations in Canada was brought up. I had no chance to express my self properly here so I simply stated that I couldn't describe it in Spanish.
In order to escape and rest, I went to the cinema. While in line, it was evident that I was soldero and 40 years younger than those couples around me. After 20 minutes of contemplating and quantifying how lame I was, we entered the the theatre. I was hoping to see a movie in Spanish. What I realized just before the lights went down, is that I was going to see a Belgium film with Spanish subtitles. I almost walked out in the first 5 minutes. The movie was very good though and I was able to understand everything (though the language sounded awful, like constant yelling).
Learning Spanish is certainly a type of education I have not experienced in some time. It is so gradual and without landmarks. It is not a concept to be learned or understood.  It does not even feel like a skill which can be practiced. I have to trust that exposure will help.

I haven't mentioned that I've befriended a 17 year old porteno (of Buenos Aires, commonly used term) who is my neighbour. I am able to communicate with him much better than most. Admittedly, he draws me into conversation and I sometimes communicate through him. He is a huge Oasis fan and is enamored with the story that I saw them in Capetown.
Today, I went with this porteno (of course I didn't catch his name and it is far to late to ask) to his band practice. We went to a soundstage and I listened to the 5 of them play Oasis and other English music. I was impressed and they were welcoming.

*** The picture above shows the Subway cars I commute in everyday. On this oldest lines, the interior is all wood and the doors operate manually.

I returned home to study, mainly verbs and conjugations. After an hour of Facebook conversations, the porteno returned with several of his friends. We went to the roof to drink beer and smoke cigarettes. Two portenas spoke English and the conversation that followed was a mix. It was nice to be able to ask questions about the language, normally when I am confused or don't know the word it is a dead end. At one point, I was speaking Spanish and the portena was speaking English. I didn't notice until someone made fun of it.
Now, on Sunday night, the porteno is sitting on the couch beside me talking on the phone. I am tired and content. I will write a post in Spanish very soon.