We arrived in Córdoba early in the morning. Going through customs, my dad missed the agent’s signal to move his bags down for inspection. Instead, he reloaded his bags on his cart after they emerged from the x-ray machine. When the agent found out we were visitors, he just let us pass. My dad has been having a lot of good chuckles about these little “Innocents Abroad” moments.
Lore’s family picked us up at the airport, and then we had breakfast at our hotel. If this was a movie I would be anxious about our parents meeting, but I don’t feel this way. Despite the language barrier, and the bottleneck of conversation as interpretation is funneled through Lore, everyone gets on as well as I expected they would.
We are staying at the Hotel ACA (owned by the Automobile Club of Argentina), which is nice, across from the park, and near downtown. Taxis are inexpensive, less than 10 pesos (Ar$10.00 or about US$2.50) to El Centro. Even though the time is only three hours different from Iowa all the travel has made it hard to get a handle on the time of day. We mostly slept after getting in, then changed some money downtown, then slept some more.
We had picada Friday evening with Lore’s family at their home, which means we ate from plates of cheese, meats, breads, and olives. Argentinians stay up late, so we left well after midnight and slept some more.
Early Saturday morning Lore woke me up, thinking I was somehow shaking the bed. It felt like a gentle rocking and steady rocking as if riding a train, but it lasted for a good minute or so. I’ve been through a few earthquakes before and this would be the longest and strongest. There was no damage to Córdoba but it was a disaster in Chile and is almost the only thing on the news.
I walked around Parque Sarmiento, across from the hotel, Saturday morning. It was warmer than Friday. In the afternoon we visited Lore’s grandmother and aunt. The live in cute old lady house with beautiful antique furniture. Lore’s aunt has a treadle sewing machine, which she uses to make dresses. We have one at work, but it is a museum artifact.
The big event this weekend was the party with Lore’s family and friends to celebrate last summer’s wedding. I’ve met many of Lore’s friends and relatives before, but not all of them. Several said they recognized me from Facebook. Good old Facebook.
I wrote about Argentinian wedding receptions last time; it’s not worth repeating at length, but as always there was lots of:
- Dancing late into the night
My parents were good sports. They stayed up for the whole thing, until it ended at about 4 a.m.
This Sunday is a day of sleeping late and of long naps. “Your culture is killing us,” my dad joked to Lore. After two late nights he was wondering if Argentinians ever slept, but was relieved to hear that Lore’s family was asleep most of the day too.
We went for dinner at Paseo del Buen Pastor. The city seems to be upgrading the busier pedestrian areas to make them more accessible, replacing the high curbs with gently graded gutters and bollards. It was indeed busy; the students who populate the neighborhood were all over the place. Power went out during dinner but then came back on.