La Bomba

Last night was a treat in many ways. Most importantly because my roommates and I learned a lot about each other while waiting for the weekly La Bomba show to start at Konex- por ejemplo: Caitlin, is allergic to dogs, cats, horses, guinea pigs, every kind of mold, every kind of tree and grass. I’m sure you would expect nothing less from me than to joke all night about Caitlin’s arch nemesis riding towards her on a horse, while petting a cat with one hand and gripping the leash of a dog in the other, all while eating cheese smothered in mold, and stirring up every last ounce of pollen from neighboring trees. Poor girl. I just couldn’t help it.

Together, we spent the night doing what Argentines do best – drinking beer and dancing to the beat of a steady, sturdy drum. The musicians were not only fantastic at their craft, but also some of the best performers I have ever seen. A little cumbia, a little shimmy, and a little shake — what could be better?


La Bomba!

Foamy stache.

A new South African friend


For those of you (namely Stephanie Varvitsiotes) whose world came crashing down yesterday when I didn’t post, please accept my formal apology. Last night was an absolute blast, and although we made it home extremely early on Argentine standards, I was at the whims of my magnetic bed and could do nothing to keep myself away from its powerful pull. Today has been an incredibly productive day on all accounts, though. The girls and I did our laundry – which means we walked four blocks to drop off our dirty clothes and will retrieve them washed, dried, pressed and folded tomorrow – went to the grocery store to buy FRESH produce (hallelujah, mother of pearl), ate said produce for lunch, and now I have the intention of reading in a neighboring park and going for a long run in the Palermo woods. Oh, and maybe doing some homework. Besos.

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