Stop to sneeze by the flowers...

July 31st, Thursday...

Today I went to get money. Now, don’t you get a picture in your head and think you know what that looks like. First, I had to find a financial advisor. I went to Merrill Lynch because that’s who I do business with in the States. That was a good move. Then, he introduced me to a special kind of banker who, for a fee, transfered some money into the country for me. Then she, the banker, called me and let me know where to pick up the money. I went there and carried it home. I can’t really, completely, say I understand why I had to use the special banker. Somehow I do know it has saved me money. I also know not just anyone can do business with this special private banker. You have to have an introduction. I mean to get the rates I got anyway. When I talked about this with my friend he said, “Yes, yes,everyone in Buenos Aires has their little black book full of phone numbers.”

So, I’m starting to understand this. And to compile my own list of names and numbers. I've got to get a black book. An example, the other day I got a haircut. I got a referral from my friend Philip and I called and made an appointment. At first I was worried because I thought “If he has time to do my hair the same day I call then he mustn’t be very good.” I was wrong, about him - having time that is. You see, the salon gave me a 5:30 appointment. I arrived at 5:20. At 5:50 or so Javier, the hairdresser, sent someone to wash my hair. He was very sweet, the hair washer, even though he left in the middle and my head got cold. Then, the hair washer took me a station and sat me down. There I sat until 6:44, or so. Finally, Javier came over, sprayed my head with cold water (it had dried completely of course) and started to cut my hair. Mid stroke he would stop and run off and hug or kiss someone, talk to them lovingly, then come back, do the same to me, and resume cutting. On occasion, when he returned he brought the recipient of the love with him, introduced me, explained to me who they were (most of which I missed by the way - damn if only I’d studied harder in Spanish class!) and then we’d all hug and kiss, trade information and they would say lovely things to me about all the things we were going to do together (get your mind out of the gutter, I’m talking about business). Of course, I didn’t understand 63% of what they said. At the end I’d been in the salon for over 2 hours, made 3 new friends and business associates and got a great haircut and a lesson in patience. I told my friend Don (who is coming down here to go into business with us) that Buenos Aires would surprise him as it doesn’t have the slow pace that one might imagine in Latin America. I was mistaken. Yes, the city is busy and frantic in my experience. It is crowded and the streets and subways are full. Sometimes you just can’t get a taxi. Still, there are things Americans rush through that they take their time about. In these moments, as I hear myself comparing, “it wasn’t like this at home”, I try to remember that a different cultural experience was what I was looking for when I came to - a different culture. I am caught off guard at moments by the realization that this isn’t going to be easy. It could be fun, if I decide to play it that way, but it will be hard. Someday I’ll be sitting in a salon thousands of miles from here and as they efficiently wash, cut and style my hair, collect their money and send me on my way, next appointment already made, I’ll remember that in Argentina getting a haircut is a social event, and I may just feel sad....