Sometimes, reality proves itself to be greater then what one could ever imagine. And sometimes, imagination works best not by wondering what life would be like with flying goats or an endless supply of dark chocolate or frequent flyer miles, but what life would be like without the little things:
Goosebumps. Bluejeans. Whispers. Rain.
This all occured to me while taking a shower by candlelight. It wasn't because I was trying to get romantic with myself in the bathroom or be creative with different forms of lighting, but because the electricity at our couchsurfer's apartment went caput. Or and I were only supposed to stay 2 nights at Cat's place. Today marks the 7th night we've been here. We have our own set of keys and everything. It feels like home.
I told her that we were coming to Buenos Aires for the Pride Parade and she said, I quote, you sound absoultleyfuckingawesome, stay as long as you want.
I guess I took her literally.
Most people, however, probably wouldn't have lasted one night, let alone 7.
It all depends on what I like to call one's adaptability meter. Over the years,
I've managed to tweak mine to the highest level of tolerance, but I can understand
why some people, like the Austrians who stayed here for only half a day, told Cat
that her place was just a little too exotic and moved to a hostel.
Maybe the decapated babydolls or flying bugs scared them away....
I like to think of the place as having a life of its own. A home with more character and personality then even the most extravagent people. Everyday something happens that surpasses anything I could possibly imagine. Like waking up in a puddle because when the electricity blew out the refrigerator broke and the bathroom flooded. I´m not sure how, but it did. And then realizing how it probably isn´t considered typical for Or and I to sit in the dark of a strange apartment and drink beer just to pass the time. But even though it isn´t normal or sanitary, by even the most lenient of standards, it couldn´t be more appropriate.
I have actually grown quite fond of the place. It is like a street with a roof. And I mean this with upmost respect. I like the dysfunction of everything. The surprise of coming home and finding a wolf vomiting in the floor, or a broken toilet, a disappearing phone, no doorbell.
But more then I enjoy the dilapidation, the poetic ambiances, and artistic qualities of the place- I love the people I´ve met here. Cat, the girl who lives here, is fucking brilliant and so interesting to talk to. This girl has hitchiked all over the world. She has hitched from the Route 40 down in Ushuaia all the way to Canada. She has done her fair share of hitching in France and other parts of Europe, and obviously South America as well. I am amazed by how she speaks English, French, and Spanish as if they are all her 1st language. The things this girl has seen, has done is inspiring.
When I leave, I´m gonna miss the candlelight talks over cheap beer, sleeping in the hammock, and the splish-splash in-between my toes everytime I walk into the bathroom.
And I can´t imagine anything greater then this.
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jajaja.. i love how you describe my house, that´s pretty much it
ReplyDeletethe toilet has been fixed, the floor is now dry, the fridges are gone, i got rid of the bugs (i don´t even know how the fuck they got here to begin with, but they´re history!) the doorbell still has its moments but things are a bit more functional...
and i LOVE that picture with the dog. i have to send that to loic and marie, denver looks so adorable.