everyday ham: We saw dead people.

Evita's grave.

On Friday at 9 am, Dan and I left our humble New York abode. Nineteen hours later--which included two cab rides, one train and two flights--we crawled into bed at our final destination, Buenos Aires, Argentina, at 5 am local time (4 am New York time).

It was a long day.

Nothing terribly interesting about those nineteen hours since Dan and I spent most of it napping or with our nose buried in our books (I think we both read about 100 pages each). But it's worth noting the crazy flight attendant on Aerolineas Argentinas. I ordered the Spite, to which he repeated "'prite?" and Dan had the water. She gave me the water, Dan the 'prite. Then she came around again and I asked for tea. Tea? she asked me in Spanish and I nodded. She then proceeded to pour me a cup of lukewarm half-and-half and said "Here's your milk." What?

We were sitting in the emergency row exit (excellent for the never-ending 8+ hour flight from Miami to Buenos Aires) and there was this little boy waiting in the bathroom line who had to be restrained by his mother for touching the emergency door. It was borderline terrifying because it was obvious that once his mother said NO, don't touch, he was like oh yeaaaahhhh! Touchy touchy! And every time she wasn't looking, he was poking something over there near the "Danger" sign, and then it got to the point where the mother had to hold his arms, but his body was all twisted towards the door. I glared at him over my book, but this kid was on a mission to kill all of us.

Our layover was in Miami. I have never been to Miami before, but we might as well been in South America already because everyone spoke Spanish from that point on. It was like, are we in America? Seriously? Even the Asian woman ahead of us in line at the ticket counter spoke Spanish. Dan's father and brother were awake to greet us in the middle of the night. Dan said he was not tried and tried to convince me to stay awake and pull an all-nighter but I said no. He was snoring next to me before I even fell asleep.

Day one in the city came to a late start. Dan and I were awoken at noon and we didn't get moving until past 2. We spent most of the afternoon wandering the beautiful Cementerio de la Recoleta--a beautiful city of tombstones and the resting place of many rich and famous, including Eva Peron. Afterwatds we were in desperate need of a bag of chaos because we fell into the trap that happens when six people travel together. No one could make a decision on where to go next, what street to walk on, where to eat. I had forgotten what it is like to travel in a big group. We ended up in a bustling race-car driver themed cafe for lunch and then walked back to the apartment, stopping for what I imagine to be first of many ice cream cones for the week. Ice cream makes everything better.