Argentina, day 1 1/2

Most of it spent in the air. It didn´t seem real that I was in the queue for Buenos Aires. Looking around me, among the dozens of people of all ages also waiting to board, there were some faces that confirmed, more than others, my destination: darker, small eyes, high cheekbones, large and flat noses. I am heading to their land.

During the 11-hour trip, I was always somewhere between being awake and sleeping, at the point of not knowing if some things really happened or were just a dream. But it wasn´t a dream when at one moment I woke up, looked outside my window and saw a beautiful moon and a huge, dark, blue and silver ocean. I was actually crossing it.

Arriving to the big capital, moving from one airport to the other, nothing looked distinctive. On my left, poor two to three-floor constructions, lots of electricity cables hanging between them, huge outdoor advertisments. Like arriving to Athens by coach. On the left, tall box-like blocks of flats, desperately needing to be cleaned and painted. An image I hold from Sofia or Bucarest of the early 80s.

On the way from Ezeiza to J.Newbury airport, I see lots of old cars circulating in the road. It´s been a long time I hadn´t seen some of those models. Most of them have dark windows. I associate dark windows to rich people, the mafia or secret police. The cars are old and so many that I can´t reach any conclusion. I must remember to ask.

I didn´t have the courage to read the “Nunca más” report before I left. I´ll do it when I´ll get back. But I did finish “Open veins of Latin America”, by uruguaian Eduardo Galeano. I had started it when I booked my airplane ticket, decided to finish it on the way. It makes you feel you are walking on a raped land. It´s one of those books that make you feel totally impotent, even an accomplice.

I waited for seven hours in Buenos Aires before taking my next flight. It finished me off. And then a three-hour flight to the world under... I was 11 years old when I first told myself I would one day come to the Tierra del Fuego. At that age, I didn´t think it would be a cold place, the name promised warmth and passion. Ushuaia really looks like an “end of the world” place; they are my favourites. The cold wind when I stepped out of the airport took all my tiredness away, it revived me. I would like to join the Ushuaians in their Holy Friday walk. I can´t believe I am actually here...