Puerto de Iguzu

Yesterday I got on a bus. Today, after nearly 22 hours on the exact same bus, I arrived at the Argentine-Brazil border where we'll spend the next two days exploring the national park and getting sprayed by a giant-ass waterfall. From the montanas to la jungla in less than a day. Not bad work, but my legs and back haven't taken it lightly.

These long bus rides give you a lot of time to do some serious reading, writing, and thinking. Books I've read so far this week: The Namesake, Lahiri; You Shall Know Our Velocity, Eggars; and today I finishied Diary of a Bad Year, Coetzee. I haven't actually done very much writing, only sketches of things I want to write. I have to finish a poem, a short story, an introspective blog post, and a let-me-into-med-school-NOW letter in the next two weeks - so I don't think any of my notebook scribblings will be going to waste.

Gots to run. Later, all.

In the driving rain (unedited notes from el autobus)

The warm drops pelt against the windshield of our overnight bus to Cordoba. The sound is almost deafening, like TV static turned up too loud. I am also kept awake by the two concurrent electrical storms: the one beyond the windshield and the one inside my brain.

Some of the things I think about:

I imagine myself looking back on this trip with Nate - effectively my brother since we arrived at college that warm August of 2001 - sitting around a table rehashing all of the wonderful things we have experienced together.

And about how Obama pulled out the Iowa caucus, and what that might mean for the future of the Estados Unidos. And science, public health, and everything else rest of the world.

And why does she exclusively refer to her past in the plural. The key, I know, lies in the allieterative Brian, Boyfriend, Brooklyn; the repetition deepened by the Ex- in front of each of the triumverate.

My handwriting is falling apart. Nate is waking up next to me and the electrial storms are now fading. It's time for me to wrap up this missive. We'll have arrived in the morning. Damp, tired, but optimistic about a new day and all of the yet unmade memories in front of us on this trip.

The rain drives us onwards.

Imp't note:

I'm pretty sure all of this writing, or this impulse to write, is fuelled by the limitations of leading my public life en Espanol these past few days.

I can bascially only express myself in the present tense. Trapped in the words of a 6 year old, my brain sends out a clarion call to express - to capture the complexity of tense, sentence structure, and content that my native tongue allows for.

Hopefully, my Spanish will get better - but these 3am scribbling fests are worthwhile too. Goodnight, en serio.

Live from high atop Buenos Aires

I know, I know - it's been a million years since I've written anything. And even longer since I've written anything of substance. But here I am, on the 20th floor of an apartment building in Buenos Aires, Argentina sharing a few of my thoughts and gross generalizations. I'm just starting out on a 18-day trip with one of my closest homeboys from college.

BA is a big and beautiful city. Lots of parks, tree lined streets, old buildings with decorative wrought iron balconies, newly constructed skyscrapers, and interesting stories behind them all.

It is notable that I once again find myself in a place where I'm not marked as an outsider. The Argentinians are snobbish about their European decent - marking them, in their minds, as superior from those descended from the indigenous peoples who make up the bulk of the population in other Central and South American countries. As a result of this caucasian bent - and my outrageously manly stubble - everyone here assumes I'm a local. My mediocre spanish betrays the reality of the situation.

It's 12:22 in the am, but Nate and I are about to head out for some late night drinking and dancing. The sun doesn't set here until 9 or 10 (it's verano in el hemisphero del sur, silly) and Argentinians are known for their night owl tendencies.

I've liked writing this post a lot. Hopefully I'll be able to find some more time to write as Nate and I begin our travels up into the Andes, back across the country to Iguazu Falls, and finally into Uruguay where we'll lie on the warm Atlantic beaches and ogle the local beauties. I also have my camera, so you'll get to see some of my pictures eventually. Adios.