Bus 714: Montevideo-Pinar

According to Eduardo Galeano, famous Uruguayan writer and journalist, "Uruguay is a bank with a beach." He is kind of right; though I think it would also be right to call it "a big farm on the beach."

If you ever visit, you will see it for yourself but as the story teller, it is my job to tell you a little more about life in this beautiful farm.

Lately I have been spending two hours a day commuting to and/or from Canelones department, to the east of Montevideo, where Javier lives. An hour bus ride from my house (which is in the Center of Montevideo) and I am there, among the pine trees and white sand beaches, single-family homes scattered through out the area, unpaved roads, mom and pop stores, total tranquility.

I will describe --in the near future-- the beautiful Costa de Oro (the part of Canelones by the water) and its neighborhoods, I would like to talk about the hour-long trip and its essential elements, the view from the bus, and important characters.

Us Turks are used to these people. In Istanbul they frequent the boats and trains, selling anything from safety pins to chocolate, to protein bars to socks, whatever they get their hands on. Well, in Uruguay, they hang at the city's only public transportation: buses.

Usually they sell chocolate or similar junk food, but sometimes I see bandaids, or plastic ID covers; they all have different jingles memorized and repeated so many times. After my 7th trip I started to see the same guys, selling different things with the same words, sometimes without even looking at the passengers.

Then there are those who leave a super kitch piece of postcard with a cheesy poem (or prayer) on your lap, give you a sob story to follow up and expect you to buy the piece of paper for whatever you see fit.

One time I saw a full blown stand up act, a guy dressed like a Joker with a puppet acted out a spanish middle age style one-man show. He was awesome.

At the traffic lights one can see jugglers and other kind of circus acts all along the Avenida Italia (becomes Avenida Ginnaitascio---or something like that--in Canelones), which connects Montevideo to the beaches of Canelones.

Than there is the urban myth seller guy Javier told me about. Well it is not a myth because he saw him acting. This particular performance was a man, who appeared two years ago, dressed as a pirate. He would step into the bus and would ask people to give him their money as he takes over the bus! Then would make a stand-up show about politics or economy, actual stuff, and would get down the next stop (I would love to see him, sounds like a quite performance).

Crazy Montevideo Winters are ending, here comes the Spring...

I have missed a day! I went to sleep last friday night and woke up, thinking that it is saturday, sunday morning! "Boluda, es domingo!" ("It is sunday, dork!") said Javier on the phone when I was still trying to wake up from my looong beauty sleep. We missed the Bersuit concert, which was a long-awaited event for me, considering not many cool things have been happening in Montevideo recently.

I have never been so sleepy in my whole life, and I certainly was not tired that night, as to sleep for a whole day. Weird, very weird, I still cannot explain myself what has happened to me.

Anyways, I missed Saturday but had a wonderfull Sunday: my first official interaction with Javier's daughter.

Aside from playing, sharing laughs, paiting our bodies, collaging, eating, singing, the most unmotherly woman --me--went to an amusement park, chatted with other parents while the little girl was enjoying the rides, took her to do pipi-and caki, and clean her afterwards, and at the end of the day slept around 10 pm, while she hugged me as I was her Teddy Bear.

Honestly, it was one of the most affectionate moments of my life. Adults don't hug like that, only children, who are sincere about how they feel about you and they are not afraid to show it to you.

My cousin and I were talking about it the next day, he thinks I probably mesmerized the little girl, because I am a little girl myself, with tons of toys and stories accumulated over time, due to my real age (Juana guessed I was six years old!). He also thinks my unmotherlyness comes from the fact that I am soo young deep inside I cannot think of having kids of my own. He could be right...

I will report more on the adventures of the international party girl as a potential parent, I really hope to be able to keep hanging out with this brilliant girl, again, soon.

Montevideo Part II: Back to Grey City...with a bit more sunshine and esperanza

7 weeks in Turkey. I am very spoiled as you can imagine. Aside from "high level" vacation I had there, with my best friends, it was summertime in Istanbul and there was so much to do and so little time to do everything.

I left Istanbul at dusk, after a GREAT party, drunk and melancholic, and arrived to sunny Miami where my beloved brother welcomed me to tell me we had to hit the beach as soon as we get home and then to a huge pre-MTV Music Awards Party, as you can imagine I did not feel as something was missing. It all happened when I set foot in Uruguay, at Carrasco Airport, I found the saudade exactly where I left it, even though I was full of joy thinking that so many exciting projects were waiting for me.

And as usual, nothing was the same as I left two months ago. A dark apartment with mold in all walls, new changes at the office, a phone that once again does not ring--even once! I felt so lonely and depressed the first couple of days, unimaginable for me considering the fact that there was not "one" good reason to feel that way.

My tio who I shared how I felt, wrote me today, saying "downshift a little bit, there are not many cities like Istanbul." Taking his advice, I probably will write lot more and focus on the new book (Havana is over, now I am writing about Buenos Aires!) and hopefully take a couple of trips outside Uruguay for material to write about.

So welcome back to me and to all of you who read my adventures from the South.