"Independent Living: My New Digs"

The Saturday morning of my move came bright and early with a sharp hangover from a going-away party the night before.

My host dad offered to drive me to the new place, which was a little awkward. I know they weren't feeling well (physically), but it felt like we'd definitely drifted apart in the last few days. I'm not sure if they were hurt I was leaving, or ready for freedom from worrying about me. (As they took their job of host-parents very seriously--worry they did, no matter what I did to try and ease their minds.)

However, Luisa was eagerly awaiting my arrival at the pension. She immediately whisked me off, with a list of chores, "What do you want to do first? Unpack? Buy hangers? Oh, you need some to get this amazing stuff!" She ran off, and re-emerged with a spray can of a Lysol-like disinfectant spray. "It's only 5 pesos, but it's wonderful!" She exclaimed, reading from the bottle, "Kills 99.9 percent--that's almost 100!--of bugs, allergens, fungi. Buy this, and spray your bed and closet before you put anything away."

Ugh ...was my chemical phobia greater than my phobia of creepy-crawlies? I decided with the high turnover in a pension, I'd better opt for the chemicals. An hour later, I was choking on lungfuls of spray particles (and Mountain-scent), and hoping the good outweighed the harm.

I opened the windows as wide as possible, unpacked as much as I could...and went off in search of hangers. The problem with moving on a weekend is that most stores are open just half a day on Saturdays, and closed on Sundays...hence, finding hangers occupied the next several hours of my day. And, I was not able to get keys to the place until Monday, as the key-making shops were closed. "Don't worry, I'm always home and I'll let you in," Luisa had assured me. Not convenient, but it ended up working.

I met a few of the other residents--Pablo is a Colombian, studying here. There is also a Chilean student. Higher education is free in Argentina, both to Argentines and foreigners. Since education in Colombia is extremely expensive, Pablo could only afford to study somewhere else. The Chilean chose Argentina because they had a stronger program than the universities in Chile (I believe he's studying architecture).

Jorge is a police officer--once I get to talk to him a bit more, I'll probably have to dedicate a whole on the topic, but he's confirmed most of what I mentioned in my robbery blog. He's up-front about the fact that he doesn't like the job, but it's a job, so he stays. He's been there for 13 years and makes $2,000 pesos a month because he works an extra shift (12-hour days 6-7 days per week). A police officer's potential salary tops out at $3000 pesos per month ($1,000 dollars). For comparison, I'm spending about $2,000 pesos per month here, myself. Granted, I'm living as a tourist, but it would be very difficult to save any money on that salary.

There's also a Peruvian named Jose. He's lived and worked in Argentina for about 10 years for an American company based out of San Bernadino. He also works long hours--a double shift six days a week, although he seems happy here.

Finally, we come to my roommate, Maria, la angel. She was one of the last I met, as she really is NEVER home. She stops by to shower, sometimes eat or hang out for an hour, and she's gone again (she rarely spends a night in the pension). However, she's no longer a student, she simply works and spends time with her friends. Anyway...I'm not sure she's an angel, but she does seem really nice from the few times I've spoken with her.

Luisa and her son, Federico round out the group. The also share the final bed. *Ahem.* Not like that, they just rotate. (She sleeps while he's awake and vice-versa.) I guess they don't want to sacrifice $350/month by having one less bed to rent out?

I've mentioned a bit about Luisa (and there WILL be more to come). I haven't figured Federico out yet...he seems to work, and seems intelligent, put-together, thoughtful and mature. He has a college diploma hanging on the wall. Yet, he's living with mom (in such a claustrophobic environment) at 41 years of age...

This may be an Argentine thing...I know of another guy, who at 30 is still living at home--but his home seems relatively more comfortable; he has his own room and his mom takes care of EVERYTHING for him, doting on him as though he were nine. Federico just seems to lack any personal space, whatsoever.

However, going back to the key situation, as only one can sleep at a time, there IS always someone home and awake in the house, regardless of the hour. :-)