Life isn't all Glamor and Tango when you live in Buenos Aires.
I know, it seems like it when you read about it but there is the other side of life here.
When you get up in the morning and have 10 or so cups of delicious coffee, that we buy and have ground for us at the Coffee store .
When we can walk across the street to the little bakery/cafe where the ladies will serve us medialunas ( croissants, dripping with honey) or scones, dry and sort of sweet and perfect with coffee or tea.
Where we can bring home empanadas or tartas .
They were the ones who fed us in those early days of sitting here in one room that had no workmen in it, where I huddled, sick with a cold, with Pup and my husband, while painters and plumbers worked .
I remember those days fondly now, even though they were dreary, wet and cold, I was sick and there was no "home" ..
The living room was a mass of boxes full of our belongings, the refrigerator was in the dining room and the rest of the house was a mess.
The bedroom was okay, the furniture was there but there was no clothing unpacked..
Pup and my husband and I sat in here, connected to family and the world through his laptop.
The desk was a box full of our things.
When I felt good, we walked to the Chinese restaurant and picked up dinner or went for pizza.
We were not adept at ordering anything by phone, our Spanish was mostly related to construction and decor at that time.
I knew all the right words for paint colors and for walls, floors, counters ..
The Spanish we spoke was directly related to the Important things going on at the time.
And during this time , we were visiting Immigrations , where we stumbled along, using sign language and thank God, the good humor of most of the people here kept us from not just giving up and going back home.
Now ... Pup is gone.
There is this huge hole in my heart and a sad space in our lives.
We speak better Spanish, we understand it much more and we still laugh and love the people here.. completely.
Even the jerks.
We can order food on the phone, the waiters understand us in the restaurants and I no longer order one thing and get something completely different.
The Ice Cream shop across the street moved out and a little shop went in.
We now have to walk a few more blocks if we want ice cream.
Those early days of my husband dashing across the street in the evening to pick up dessert are good memories.
Our walks to the parks several times a day with Pup are great memories.
Our becoming "locals" and having the doormen say hello each time we passed, the shopkeepers recognising us, these are the memories of early days and these memories will last forever.
Now we are just biding our time, waiting for the Right Person to come along and fall in love with our apartment, then we will be off on our New Adventure.
But until then, it might not be all glamor and tango here but it is pretty pretty nice ,