twenty four hours

ever had one of those days in which you think back and wonder how could all these events have possibly transpired in the last twenty four hours?

twenty four hours ago, i was in my purple parachute pants, sitting in jonas´ room, watching titanic on TV and eating a big bowl of pasta, bored as ever.

and now, i am sitting in a hostel in salta. after a night of partying, no sleep, a crazy taxi ride, long flight, weird remise bus, finding my hostel, exploring a new city, planning a trip to bolivia, almost becoming involved in a peaceful march, chilling with fellow hostel kids and eating a giant steak.

back up. so, last night (somehow that was 24 hours ago). after sitting all day in THE PANTS (yes, the purple parachute pants. get used to them, they are coming to seattle), i talked to a neighbor who got the water to work again (yay! it was broken). hopped in the shower, threw on some makeup and bought beer for the friends coming over. jonas got home, and soon his friend nicolas (from salta apparently!) arrived and miguel showed up. lauren and francisco joined us, and we got ready to go out.

going out meant this sort of club/fiesta situation downtown, near avenida de nueve de julio. it was a chill place, but we were all feeling sleepy. i stayed for a bit, but after lauren and francisco took off, and jonas was feeling tired, i couldn´t pretend to be awake any longer. two nights in a row going out, too much.

back back up! (i forgot to mention. lauren and francisco and i went out the night before to pacha, this amazing three story club out in the boonies near aeroparque). the music? fab. 80´s, pop, and YES there was a mika song. i went nuts. we got home at 5:30).

so, returning to saturday night. we all sort of wimped out and returned home before 4. i crashed, only to wake up at 8 to get a taxi. said bye to jonas, jumped in the cab with a very cranky driver and heading out to my next adventure.

(i also discovered that BA is gorgeous in the early mornings! i have never been outside before ten, unless its coming home from a club in those early hours. interesting.)

got into aeroparque, checked in, ate a final BA medialuna (okay i had three) and hopped on my flight to salta. i listened to my ipod the whole way and got weirdly emotional when listening to minus the bear. i think it reminded me of last summer a lot. seems so long ago. one year. wow, a lot happens in a year.

i arrived at three and wandered around the bare little airport, having no idea how i was going to get to the city, which was 12 kilometers away. i shuffled stupidly outside and this small man oddly ushered me to a large van full of tourists. ¨el centro?¨ he asked. i nodded. next thing i knew i was magically on this bus taking me to the city. sometimes, i just luck out.

i checked into the hostel, locked up my things and set out to explore. salta is AMAZING. its this gorgeous, gorgeous little town that doesn´t seem to be aware of its own beauty. there are unbelievable churches and cathedrals in ever color but white (my favorite is a passionate red iglesia with gold trim). the plaza is wonderful and the park so tranquilo.

when i set off on my wanderings i noticed something weird. silence. no endless honkings of taxis and buses screeching down the street. and cleanliness. no dog poop smeared on every sidewalk and garbage strewn in the gutter. and no huge crowds of people, rushing rushing rushing. actually, there was literally no one around. every shop was closed. silence. it was a sunday afternoon, and the city was taking a big, long siesta. either that or aliens had abducted everyone but myself. i considered both possibilities.

i went to the one internet cafe in town that was open (i know, i checked every place). i went to town on finding buses, taxis, trains or whatever i needed to get to la paz in three days. so far, i have this:

1. andesmar bus. leaves at 12:45am early tuesday morning. to la quiaca, on the border.
2. city taxi. from la quiaca, argentina to the border crossing at villazon, bolivia.
3. expreso del sur. 6:20pm tuesday night. a train that runs from villazon to ocuro, bolivia.
4. ?. still have to find a way from ocuro to la paz. but at ocuro, i am golden. almost there.

after my big planning session i walked outside, surprised to find that the sun had set. the giant, pale rose cathedral next to the internet cafe was now a faint neon pink in my opinion. what was also surprising was that the saltenos had somehow, magically crawled out of the woodwork. there were dozens, if not hundreds of people enjoying the twilight in la plaza. a few boys beat on plastic buckets, creating a beat.

suddenly, it seemed like two little girls had found metal spoons and were joining the beat. a mom handed her overeager toddler a metal pot, and he joined in. an older woman snapped her fingers. two teens pulled out whistles and blew. more people clapped. the people milling about slowly gathered in a circle of sound. a few tiny flags appeared, and one individual thought the occasion worth borrowing an argentine flag from a local restaurant. stomp. clap. bang. beat. stomp clap. bang. beat.

now there were dozens of people. old and young. a protest? i thought, prepared to run, thinking of the dangerous protests in buenos aires. but smiles were on every face. no slogans were shouted. no signs were shook. stomp. clap. bang. beat.

and then there were two hundred people! they stepped into the street. cars politely made way, or joined in the impromptu parade. honking. whistling. the noise was unbelievable! but no anger! and no obvious reason for the parade! i watched as the entire town seemed to come together and celebrate... well i dont know. celebrate being a salteño. they marched around and around the plaza, over and over. a few police came to make sure traffic didnt get in the way of their happiness.

i finally tore myself away and went to a restaurant. i asked the waitress why the people were marching. she smiled and said she didnt know. ¨we always march. we are happy people,¨ she explained.

i think i really like salta. its sort of a magical place.

words / concepts of the day:

remise: a special taxi or van, designated for a specific location. usually you call a taxi company for a remise cab, or the airport has special vans that just go to and from the city center.
aeroparque: the domestic airport in buenos aires. since the country is fairly small, all flights are within two hours. security is lax, the airport overly clean, but really, no one flies within the country. buses are still the cheapest route.
salteños: residents of salta. i like these people.