Garlic Night Fights

Upon realizing that I was leaving Argentina very soon, I decided I needed to eat all the food I find delicious and unavailable in America. I made a point to visit to my Panaderia friends. If you remember from my last story, it was at this tremendous place that I had a mini love affair with cattle...or rather me falling in love, head over heals style, with consuming it in it´s entirety. Yesterday was NO exception. We had Pollo Disco. It may actually be Pollo con Disco, Pollo de Disco, or Pollo y Disco, but I´m in a chicken haze and am unable to recall the correct naming. The reason may be because of the amount of food. Sergio cooked 3 chickens. There were only 6 of us. In addition, this dish consists of the amount of garlic equivalent to the amount of Botox in Joan Rivers face. You can bet I smelled rustic!

Post consuming my weight and beyond in garlic, chicken, and various other vegetables, I went to meet my friend in order to discuss our travel plans. I was getting nervous since the initial plan was to leave on Tuesday and neither of us had our bus tickets as of Sunday afternoon. (And being that today, Monday, is a holiday). We sat down and immediately she yanks out 2 pieces of paper and says, SURPRISE. She has bought the tickets. I know I will enjoy traveling with this gal. We celebrated with a beer, purchased the essentials for the 9 hour bus ride, crackers and dulce de leche (no, I didn´t buy wine.........they serve it to you on the bus) and parted ways. There was a point where I skipped down the road to express my excitement.

Even though I ate what felt like the food rationed for a small, third world country (and yes, I realize the irony of me actually being in a third world country), I still decided on dinner. (Ciao hard work done at the gym). It was delicious and even consisted of Champagne and cocktails...My kinda dinner. Andreita asked me earlier if I wanted to attend a Boliche with her that evening. I really didn´t want to think up of a reason why I didn´t want to go, so instead I blatantly said, Nope!

While sitting at the dinner table, she leans to me and in English says, ¨I´m going somewhere tonight and you have to come with me.¨ It felt like a mafia deal while I ate my slice of pizza. I said, okay and asked where she was going, hesitating in fear of hearing some deserted house, or even crazier, a Boliche. She wouldn´t tell me and I got nervous. She just kept insisting that I need to come. Then it occurred to me, we were going to a Night Fight. I got pumped, only wishing I had packed my brass knuckles. I changed out of my stretchy yoga pants, aka unattractive sweats, and packed my Swiss Army Knife. (Naturally if I´m in a night fight, I will tell someone to pause a moment before clubbing me like a baby seal to prepare Le weapon of choice......stainless steel baby, complete with a Philip´s Head and plastic tooth pick). After her friends came to pick us up, and we arrived at his house, it was clear to me that there was no night fight. (Boo). There was, however, a surprise Bon Voyage Fiesta for me, complete with chips booze, and music. (Yay). And actually there was a Machete involved, but only for picture purposes apparently before I arrived.

For 2 hours we danced and hung out, ate chips, took endless photos that if I had a Facebook account, I would post immediately with ridiculous comments. Around 2 am, I was ready to check out. We all piled into the car, 7 of us in a VW Fox, (insert Popes in a Volks Wagon joke here) and started to drive. I had mini deja vu. First, This was a dangerous experience...Cautious Courtney not only is always prepared with lice shampoo and plastic zip lock bags, but I´m a seat belt advocate. I love them. Lap-sitting last night, consequentially, did not permit for such safety habits. No biggie, seeing as we were just going 5 minutes across Villa Allende. Deja vu kicked in when I realized we were driving to the city....at 2 30 in the morning. No, this driver is not particularly dangerous, and I wasn´t even worried when I had to duck when we drove by the police 2 separate times. Needless to say, at this point, I am concerned for the poor lap I´m occupying. Kidding I was not when illustrating how much garlic I consumed earlier. I also forgot to mention a combination of other things. Everything else I ate that day (this is not a lie) contained onions. I didn´t expect to make an evening for myself, so maybe I wasn´t wearing much deodorant (or any). Finally, 7 people in a bedroom dancing and having a good time created for a very sweaty atmosphere. My fear is that I really will be known as the Stinky American. Oh well, lucky for Argentina, I usually smell of roses and fantasticness, one night will be okay.

Well, we arrive in the city around 3, and roll out of the car. We walked around for half an hour, and left. At about 2.57, I lost my patience and just wanted to leave. I´m not one for walking random streets in foreign cities past midnight with no plan or liquor. We re-pile in the peanut sized automobile, and head home. Though the ending got a little random, and though the evening lacked a night fight, I was graciously thankful and happy for MY fiesta.

Finally, I finished my final days with the 2 places I was volunteering. For everyone who said, I´d be so attached to the kids and special people and cry when I left, please reference this blog as an ¨I told you so.¨ No, I did not cry. Who do you think I am? You may also use this as me giving in to my black heart when I say, I was indeed a bit sad. It was hard to leave the both places, especially when the kids ran to me daily shouting ¨Coni! Coni.¨ (Because this is how everyone under the age of 10 pronounced my name. For everyone older it was either ¨Courrley or Corrrney¨). I also received a mini goodbye party from the kids. I think they were more interested in the cake and balloons, nevertheless, we had a marvelous time.

I´m off to eat Locro. Yes, this is a federal holiday, and it´s a big deal...and yes, I did tell everyone I saw all weekend, not Feliz Dia de Patria, but Felize dia de Locro! I´m celebrating the food... after all, this ain´t my country to be patriotic about!

Feliz Dia!