Okay. So Friday was the last day of classes. We gave our presentation of the ten-representative-images-of-Buenos-Aires project for Spanish class. In literature, we just turned in our papers and filled out class evaluations. A couple of girls, under additional comments, boldly inquired as to whether Max was single. Ironically, the answer to their question would be discovered later that same night without the aid of such tactless tactics. In history, we watched more video things as we always do on Fridays, and which I generally sleep through for most of the way. (Not my fault – it’s right after lunch AND they dim the lights. It’s useless to resist.) This Friday was no different, except for the fact that it was the last one ever.
After classes ended, C., M., and I headed over first to the COPA office and then to the Omnilíneas one in order to get our tickets to go to Mendoza for the next few days. It’s an overnight bus ride, so we leave tonight to arrive Monday morning, and then leave there Wednesday night to arrive back in Buenos Aires on Thursday morning. Thursday night is the going away party for all of us (there’s also a Babasónicos concert in Buenos Aires the same night, which would undoubtedly be really, really cool, but they tour in the U.S. as well and I therefore think it’d probably be more important to go to the goodbye thing). Then Friday’s the flight back home – yikes! I’m not sure what time it’s at. Hopefully not too early because I haven’t yet even begun to think about packing or anything of the sort, tsk tsk, I know.
Anyway, after getting the tickets, the three of us headed to a restaurant and got café con leche (mmm) and – and this was a terrible idea – three different deserts. Out of which we barely even finished half, I don’t think. They were delicious though! Lemon pie, strawberry tart, mil hojas de chocolate (which was like this pastry thing with dulce de leche and chocolate and was absolutely amazing.) I'm not even a huge dulce de leche fan, but yeah, it will be missed.
And then, after that, the dinner thing at a restaurant named something ridiculous, like Asia of Cuba or something that made equally little sense, which was for students, professors, and COPA people. Also among the attendees was Diego’s [extremely pregnant] wife, L. As usual (and this bit’s frustrating), the COPA folk segregated themselves from us, sitting at their own cliquey tables. I was sitting at the next table over, though, and facing them, so I was able to make all sorts of creepy observations. Such as the one that Max (lit professor) and Lucía (castellano professor) are a totally a couple (sucks for M. and E., the aforementioned “couple of girls.”) And it’s common knowledge that Max and Diego are like, bffs. So there were definite moments that I felt like, I don’t know, awkward-interloper-on-double-date, even though that’s a totally ridiculous feeling for an end-of-school banquet deal.
Anyway, the food was amaaaaazing. COPA feeds us well, for sure. A lovely salad that involved blueberries and Brie and a lovely curry thing that involved vegetables and spices and rice and a lovely flan that involved whatever all the things are that go into flan. It was quite delicious. After dinner, however, there was what Daniel called a “show” and I called a “stripper” minus the stripping part because she was already pretty darn scantily clad to begin with. So yeah, she was dancing all over the place and then dancing at/on people, which was very very awkward but also highly entertaining to watch their reactions. First Marcelo (castellano professor), then Sam (student), and then Diego (and if you don’t know who he is by now, you’ve clearly not been reading the blog). It was sliiiighly inappropriate. Diego came up to me afterwards and was like, so, um, what’d you think of that? And I just sort of raised my eyebrows, and he was like, “Yeah, a little frightening, right?” Yes, yes it was. A little.
After the “show”/“stripper,” the center part of the restaurant was converted into a dance floor and rather unbearable loud music began to play. At this point I left. The port outside was really pretty:
It was kind of depressing, though. That was the last time I ever saw Max ever and the last time I’m ever going to – and it’s not like I talked to him at all after the very beginning of dinner or anything; I didn’t even say bye. He’s just gone. It’s a strange feeling. I’m going to see Diego once again in my life. Ever. On Thursday. And I mean of course I’ll remember him/them, but their fall program students come in a couple weeks after we leave. They’ve all had semesters and semesters and summers and summers of students who are there for a few weeks or months, printed in passport-picture form on the walls of the COPA office, memorized, and then never heard from again, forgotten, lost to a continent of separation and the incomprehensible profundity of time time time in a sort of runic rhyme, to the tintinnabulation that so musically swells from the bells bells bells bells bells bells bells. I don’t know. It’s just so weird to think about, and a little sad. Quite a bit sad.
Saturday I walked over to the Recoleta cemetery, the “best” one in Argentina, where Evita Perón and other important people are buried. It was the weirdest thing ever, because it was more like a city, with buildings and streets and such, only you knew everyone who was inside any of the houses was dead. Most curious. It was kind of too sunny a day to fully appreciate man’s morbid fascination with death or the irony of the aggrandizement of the deceased, but it was still an interesting experience. I mean, like, I could live comfortably in one of those crypts. Crazy! Assorted tombs:
And then Evita's:
Afterwards I went to the Recoleta feria with C., and we wandered around and bought [probably too many] things. Then I dropped my purchases off at home and headed over to this bookstore/café on Santa Fe and Callao, “El Ateneo.” It was ridiculous. It was huge, with like, elegantly lit balconies, and then this super nice café with LIVE piano and saxophone music. Also one of the two men sitting at the table next to me looked suspiciously like David Rakoff. I mean, I doubt it was actually he, probably, but it was still really disconcerting and distracting. Anyway, I had gone there to buy the comic/book that Diego had recommended, so I did that after drinking a café con leche (mmm) and continuing reading El beso de la mujer araña.(Although with less pleasure than before, because a few days back, I was googling Manuel Puig to try to learn more about the author, and I started reading a biography, and it included, terribly terribly unfortunately, rather irritating spoilers for the end of the novel. Oh well.) Anyway, here's a picture of the inside of the bookstore:
Saturday night, a group of us (C., M., C., N., K., and I) went out to this really nice vegetarian/organic restaurant for dinner (yum), and I went over to Carlie’s house to watch this (English) movie that was I guess vaguely romantic and vaguely comedic and so I suppose it was a romantic comedy, although I wouldn’t have called it that. It was a bit dumb and obvious and so on, but whatever.
So yeah. That was Saturday. Sunday involved sleep and packing and writing this up, and I leave for Mendoza in a shortly! Then, like I said, get back Thursday, pack, goodbye dinner, and Friday we head home. I can’t believe this is almost over. Hm.
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