"I do not at all understand the mystery of grace - only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us." ~Ann Lamont, Traveling Mercies, 143
Leaving Buenos Aires for Santiago, I witnessed a man in purple pants, white polo with popped collar, white boating shoes, and purple ascot. This is where fashion is created!
Entering Buenos Aires after Patagonia, I am convinced I saw a car bearing the following three decals: Rumi, Tommy Hilfiger, and Nouwen. I also learned where all our American cars are imported, witnessing the roads flooded with Chevys and Fords.
Driving through Buenos Aires reminded me of driving through Mumbai with the European architecture, highways high above the streets, and tall, flowering trees.
In my ongoing attempt to awaken the innocent Sarah within, I reasoned that the woman at the Subte (Argentinean metro) station who stiffed me ~$25 probably thought I'd given her a 10 pesos note rather than the 100 pesos note I really gave her. That was the worst it got on the entire trip -- not bad at'all!
Walking around Buenos Aires in the morning reminded me of Valencia, Spain during Las Fallas festival where we stayed up til dawn, awoke at 8am to daily cannon blasts, and wandered out to sidewalk cafes to sip our bon bons and churros con chocolate before beginning a new day of celebrating. The Buenos Aires sidewalks overflowed with little, old men of fantastic character, their trousers pulled high above their waists as they animatedly debated the news of the day.
At the grave of Eva Peron, one tourist remarked, "we all know she wasn't the nicest person and yet, here we are."
"Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground."