Downtown Buenos Aires
06/04/10
The dull ache of too much sleep pounded at the base of my neck and ran through my skull into my eyes. In view out the bus window, my first in-focus sight was a pack of dogs who had pinned down a rival canine, weeping on its back with its paws forward. Instead of distracting Boxie-boo, I made the mistake of telling her not to look. She of course, looked over, and I immediately turned her head away.
“Is it okay?” she asked, with the barest hint of a smile.
“Yes it is fine. They are just playing,” I said, feeling my heart stop momentarily.
I watched the black dog try to run. It was pinned by a large brown one, possibly the pack leader, surrounded by eight others, gripped by another lock jawed at its throat. As the bus drove forward, I looked back. The black dog was motionless as the others walked away. I might have witnessed a murder. It was nature in its most raw form, with no ugliness to hide.
Our whispers, so monotoned and quiet, we presumed hide our foreign bacground in disguise. The bus was quiet, as usual, but I sensed nobody spoke of the outside events to avoid acknowledgement. Breaking the silence, Boxie-boo´s voice was soft.
“You sure?”
“Yes, it´s fine,” I said, then kissed her forehead.
Through the inner eye of memory, I recalled Boxie-boo´s tears when we saw dead puppies in garbage piles in New Delhi, India. I hate to lie, but believed this one was justified. It was a short moment, toneless and brutal without sound, seen almost as just a shadow, that I carried with me in the back of my mind for the rest of the day.
Walking around Buenos Aires, the city was a masterpiece of faded elegance. I stared at the facless glass of high-rises, towering over old brick buildings of flaking paint. Beyond the dull smoke of cars, each building seemed stained, some dirty, most in need of paint. The whole downtown core, to me, resembled an unmaintained version of a European city, as if its fate had been settled years ago and its life had vanished. It was a uniquely beautiful city - body old and face bright - which seemed fixed from another time and transported into the future. Almost a vagrant memory. A flower aged, showing its teeth and bones.
After dropping off our passports, the Brazilian Consulate in Argentina had one more annoyance - our fee had to be paid at another office five blocks away, the receipt brought back, before our Visas could be processed. I almost expected something like this and we speedwalked between the two offices. When we returned, the consulate employee changed her story, and said the receipt was needed Monday.
I could have farted flames.
On the bus ride home, instead of watching another dog fight, two humans chased another, kicking and punching the smaller man in the back. We decided to follow Juan´s advice and call him from a payphone instead of walking the few blocks, in darkness, to Teresa´s home. He was happy and glad we called, a man who did so much for us, when we were really just strangers.
That´s all for now.
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