Stupid Americans

I had a rough night last night. Two guys from my hostel and I had such a great day in Recoleta. We should have quit while we were ahead. They are about to leave so I MADE them go to Recoleta Cemetery. We did not just visit - it was a full out adventure. We took the subway, got lost, walked, talked, ate ice cream. We were traveling in the purest way, as much as you can in the city. When we got to Recoleta I knew they would want to see Evita's grave. I knew exactly where it was. I couldn't tell them. If I told them they would not get as much from the experience. I told them that I wanted them to search for her - just as I did the first time I was in Recoleta. This way they could say they really KNOW Recoleta and Evtia. To my surprise they both embraced the idea (there are about 5000 tombs). We walked around the Cemetery for two hours. We talked about the past. We talked about the history of Argentina, what Evita means to the people of Argentina. We took photos. I really enjoyed seeing them search for Evita. You could see the desperation in there faces. I could not hide my excitement as they got closer. They knew they were close. I just let the moment happen for them. I walked around to the other side of the grave so I could see them find what we had been looking for. We stood there together and just enjoyed the moment. We all left feeling inspired and accomplished. I enjoyed watching an important moment in their journey more than when I did it myself.

Many hours later I starting looking for something to do for the night. As we were getting ready we ran into my Mexican neighbor (Lilia is her name) - the same one I took to lunch a few days ago. Of course I invited her to come along to the bar. She said she was tired (typical). So we ate and drank for a little while. Just before we are about the leave my buddy from the hostel made one last ditch effort to drag her along (I had given up long ago assuming she was not interested). She said yes. I didn't really expect her to accept naturally I was excited. The night was beginning to take shape. We took a taxi to the bar (we could have walked) b/c we had a girl with us. When we got there the scene was dead except the bar we were going to. When we got there everyone was stoked b/c there was live music and we ran into a group of friends from another hostel. The night was in turning for larva to pupa. We all drank and talked and joked. I was so happy with the way the entire day went that I decided it was worthy of a Yetti call (my happy noise, very loud, very embarrassing for those around, very fun for me). I explained the whole yetti culture to everyone in English and Spanish. This would have been the first Yetti in Argentina and an event on the Tango List. I knew all this and still decided to do it. So I release the beast. Not one minute later the girl was pissed - she walks out. The whole dynamic changed. I could not believe she was pulling this shit. She was an invited guest (not paying) and received special treatment (she sent her martini back twice) now after I use my first Yetti in Argentina she messes up the whole night. I could feel the blood rushing to my head. I just shut everything down. I paid the tab, caught a cab, and didn't say a word in Spanish to her the whole ride home. We got to my hostel to drop off the Mexican girl and left to go to another hostel to wind down (and bitch about the girls rudeness). On the way over we ran into the other group from the bar (bunch of people from Europe). I wanted to vent. I was pissed (so were my buddies) that she ruined a great night. Unfortunately, some of the European girls overheard us bitching and complaining. I didn't really give a damn so I pretty much said what I was felt. In in an effort to change the subject we started talking about linguistics and European languages. They were all breaking down the origin of various names. I chime in with this little jewel:

"Where is the name Haagen-Dazs from?"

I knew they would not have an answer b/c it is a made up name by an American company in order to sound European. They take the bait. So I go off on a little rant about American marking to European...Foreign Branding...bla bla bla. I think they misunderstood my intentions - they left. I think they were offended too.

My buddy smartly decided we should call it a night. Talking with him on the way I understood how much of a fool I made of myself and how poorly I represented my country. I never wanted to be the drunk obnoxious American. Last night I was. I fell asleep feeling ashamed. I just wanted to sleep and forget the whole second half of the day.