Patricio me dijo que - oops, Patrick told me that I should have a good time and snap out of the funk of the first few days, so I am. I am nothing if not cooperative.

After I had my third siesta today, after I picked up the laundry at La Fe (see below) Lavenderia on Calle 64, I showered and walked up Calle 62 from San Juan to Teatro Merida for an early evening showing of an Argentine film called La Ciénaga (The Swamp). Aptly named - Argentina looks like a very depressing place (depression being something I know about). I enjoyed attending a movie at the Teatro, but left after about a half hour to go to the Internet cafe and begin catching up on the blog.


I stopped at the Paleteria on the zocolo for a scoop of helado de cafe (cofee ice cream). It was the best I ever had.


La Fe Lavenderia. Wash, dry, and fold five days' laundry for $3.75

Then, I decided to walk over to the place of Buenas Intenciones, the local equal-rights group. Saturdays are Parents discussion night apparently. I had a nice chat with several folks there, then got a ride back to Centro. Their place is WAY over past the rail yards (on what is clearly the wrong side of the tracks) between C.44 and 46 on C.53. I felt a little uneasy walking over there past the closed up mercado, but they assure me it's not dangerous.

On the way to Centro, we saw two other folks from the activities waiting for a bus on a corner - a rather large blond transvestite (transexual?) and her dear little mama. You know I have seen a lot when I tell you I was more bemused by the effort at blondness than the, uh, other thing. Well, our driver was in front with his mama, and I was in the back of this itty bitty whatever it was car, but we stopped to offer a lift, and I was quite literally wedged between my door and la hija, who sat in the middle. You just never know what will happen.

One of the guys at Buenas Intenciones told me about a hangout at the mercado called Jorge´s where local guys hang out. He kind of sniffed disapprovingly when he dispensed this information, so naturally I couldn't wait to check it out.

The place was really jumping, in a trashy lower-working-class kind of way. Some of all types, you could say - from marica to macho - and all seemed quite at ease with the mix. Looked like a beer-only joint, with little saucers of botanas (snacks) or bunches of limes with little piles of salt and chile. You take a lime chunck, dip it in the salt and chile, then squeeze it into your beer. Que bueno.

I only had one beer and made four or five friends when they started stacking stools and chairs for a ten o'clock closing. I especially liked the little wiry guy with all the gold teeth who signed everything (deaf I guessed). Sweet and smily.

Entonces (then) I walked back to the zocolo on my way to find a late snack and do this update. Several streets were closed off for live music (diferent bands on each street), which gives the local restaurants an opportunity to place a bunch of tables outdoors and sell more food and drinks. And that brings me back to here and now (for a change - no smart remarks from you, Mona and Pat...)

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