pensees

have i really been here for 5 months?

i suppose vacationing versus living in a foreign country is akin to just meeting someone briefly versus truly befriending them. with the vacation/brief encounter, it's relaxed and easy, chatting glibly over a cup of coffee, basking in the comfort of where only the best parts shine. in living/befriending, you start to see the dark alleys and hidden ghettos, the cockroach that skitters across the empty street at night. i guess to really love any place or anyone, you have to accept the ugly parts. but perhaps wish for some change too.

or maybe i'm trying too hard with that analogy. haha all right, i'll stop.

i like buenos aires, love the cafes/parks, and as a city it continues to enchant me. but after some time, i start to catch a wariness in the eye over financial woes; pretend to ignore the classist comment that slips out occasionally; glaze over the growing number of kids begging on the subway and how they all seem to have darker skin. in a country relatively more homogenous than the others, it sucks that racism can still be so evident.

can't you see, he whispers to me. how black their skin is?

hm. it's not really that much darker, is it...?

i'm scratching my head. i really can't tell...

but the ragged clothes, stench from not bathing or blackened fingernails from digging among the garbage gives it away every time.

ah, ok. i guess i do see.