Thinking in spanglish. I´ll know I´m fluent the day I dream in spanish and understand myself finally.

For those of you who still faithfully check in on this blog every now and then, well, thank you. Your dedication is appreciated. The more I experience on this trip, the less I feel like I can portray an accurate experience of this so-called wanderlust life. There are sentiments and sensations that naturally become lost in translation between living and the story-telling I´m attempting with this blog. Photos seem to be the easiest and most interesting method to explain where I am and what I´m doing these days but I would still like to believe that there is something spectacular to behold in a story well-told. Hence, continue to believe in me, check in every now and then and perhaps I´ll make something better of this silly little blog yet.



Thus far, Andrea and I have lived in Buenos Aires longer than we have lived in any other city since begining this voyage. I feel like I belong here to a certain extent... for example, I´m as addicted to matè as any other decent Porteño, will drink my copa de Malbec at lunch, am begining to slur es´s and ll´s and draw out y´s so as to disguise my foriegness to this city. It´s a delicate accent to acquire. Neglecting awareness of inflection and attention to emphasis, my speech turns into a sloppy mess and my poor, confused tounge falls limp... think of that fat lip feeling you have after a novacain-happy trip to the dentist. Yes, spitty, icky, and generally numb feeling. I think if I could pick up any accent I´d shoot for Colombian. This year Perú won first place for best spanish spoken throughout all Latin America (my understanding is that Spain usually wins this award) yet everyone in South America raves about how beautifully Colombians speak, clean and eloquent... though they´d be quick to remind you how their dialect is still more remarkable regardless. Never the less, I remain determined to stumble over the "me sh-amos" and "a-ja-cuchos" in hopes of perhaps one day successfully fooling a cabi (haha!). The grand irony here is that after my 5 months in Chile, none of this will matter anyway. My Mexican grandmother should feel some relief right about now.

This entry has taken me several hours (spaced out mind you, dont worry I dont sit in front of a computer all day long). Most of it was spat out in some awkward form of spanglish, indicative of the confusion mounting in my fingers translating from my brain.

Anyway, I´ll be back again and sooner.
All my love until then.