The day after school got out, I fled to Argentina. Metaphorically, this is how far I needed to get away from my job. While the principal wishes us “time to refresh, rejuvenate and spend time with family and friends”, her minions are scouring the campus recruiting you to take summer workshops. Isn’t this why I’m a teacher? So I can NOT think about this CRAP for two months? A 12- hour flight did wonders. Buenos Aires was friendly, safe and very delicious.
The only problem was those late hours. They dine at 11:00 p.m. and hit the clubs at 2:00 a.m. I fell asleep at 10:00 p.m. watching a lot of trashy Argentine television. Did you know they have their own version of Paris Hilton? He is a 5-foot tall heir to a chocolate fortune. He has many girlfriends, but is allegedly homosexual. It’s hard to tell how old he is from all of the plastic surgery, but he’s a hybrid of Liberace and Satan. There is a scandalous story about him on Argentine television at least once an hour, usually after the weather forecast. It is reassuring to know that the rest of the world is as stupid and inane as we are.
Argentines love hearing that they remind you of Europe: the buildings, their food, their attitude, their very souls. “Como Paris, si?” the taxi drivers ask me, beaming proudly. “Si,un poco,” I politely reply. Yes, sort of like Paris’s slutty and worn out step-sister. I just wish I could’ve kept up with her.
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