My trip to Buenos Aires started off in a rather bad way. My backpack was having strap failure, it became almost useless as a backpack before even taking off. I spent nearly fourteen hours at the JFK before actually leaving the airport. The flight itself was largely uninteresting, just the usual cramped seating with nothing to actually eat. I'm pretty used to that part now. It's abnormal to find an airplane seat that I feel comfortable in.

After the flight, I left my cell phone on the airplane. I was moved from one seat to another and I totally forgot about my phone as a result. When I woke up during the landing, I had totally forgotten about the phone. I was the first off of the airplane and out of the gate. I guess that's the cost of being forgetful, a stupid tax on my non-existent need to hurry. My friend at the gate got us a taxi and I of course realized my mistake about 10KM from the airport. I figured it would be easy to call the airport and resolve the issue. I was so wrong. I spent hours on the phone trying to reach someone at the airport and I eventually I just gave up. I guess I'll try again next week when they're open again but I have little to no faith in my ability to contact anyone at American Airlines.

I was feeling pretty crappy about losing my phone and decided to go for a walk. I went to Kragen's house for lunch and it was pretty nice. He made a great salad and we talked for an hour before heading out. I really enjoy talking to Kragen, he's a super hacker of the best kind. He's friendly, smart, humble, kind and talented at explaining things. He's a lot like Seth and I respect him a great deal. He really cheered me up.

We left his apartment and went to find a few things. I needed some cash, a SIM card and I wanted to buy my host a new shower head as a gift.

It took us a while but we did find a place that sold shower related objects and I got a pretty good shower head for a reasonable price. On the way to the bank. I managed to buy a SIM for my work related cellphone. We went to the bank in the area and I got enough money for my entire trip. I was feeling pretty good and thought that I could really find all of the lost data from my now lost cell phone if I really tried. I could data mine my phone bills for the last year along with other tricks.

I found myself walking with Kragen and my wallet got lifted by some slick pick pocket on a busy street. They were nice enough to not touch my cameras. I wasn't so upset about the loss of money as I was about having done something so obviously stupid. Speaking English, walking out of a bank, not paying attention to my surroundings, putting my wallet into my backpack, and finally wearing my backpack on a street. My wallet was awkwardly shaped for my pants and so I had it in my backpack. I didn't think anything of this because I was relaxed and walking with Kragen. I forgot that both Kragen and Beatrice had been pick pocketed in the same part of town. I felt like a pretty big idiot. Rightfully so.

We went out with Beatrice for a drink at some sort of Democrats abroad event. This is where I met the nice photographer by the name of Cate. The four of us went to an art show after the Democrat meeting and we had a bottle of wine between us over the course of the evening. It was better than the rest of the day by far. I took a taxi ride back to the apartment and tried to install the shower head. It was a nice try but ultimately a total failure. I actually managed to rip the old shower head out of the wall and nearly threw myself into the toilet. I was entirely sober but totally unbalanced. I managed to fix up the mess I'd made but I never actually managed to install the new shower head. I had completely failed at everything I was trying to do.

So naturally, when I finally put my new SIM into my phone, it had no credits. I guess that the shop that sold it to me didn't bother to actually add the $5Ar as they promised. Awesome.

I gave up and went to sleep without even bothering to undress. I was feeling so fed up with everything. I didn't even want to attempt to get undressed, lest I rip my pants open and fall out of a window in the process.

The next day was nicer. I spent it entirely in the bank with Kragen. I won't even attempt to discuss the baroque nature of my bank's attempt to talk to it's Argentine branch. My bank wasn't even aware of which language people spoke in Argentina. It took some effort to speak to a person at the bank, it took some more time to discuss the issue of emergency cash, it also took a great effort to get a new bank card sent from the states. At the end of the day, I guess it took about four hours, one of which was after the bank had been closed. Kragen translated the forms from Spanish, explaining in English. At some point, I realized that the person helping us could speak German and we had a very international moment. The teller spoke to Kragen in Spanish, he spoke to me in English, I replied in German, to which she replied in Spanish and so on for the rest of the evening. It was actually a relief to be able to have some sort of ability to communicate.

After leaving the bank, I was sorta hoping someone would open my backpack again. I was hoping to catch them and do something that would make me feel better. Nothing happened and it's for the best. It would be pretty pathetic to get knifed in the streets of Buenos Aires over a stupid grudge that's really my own fault. Lesson learned. No more wallet.

We took the subway to grab a bite to eat in another part of town. On the way, Kragen and I ran into Cate at the turnstile for the Subte subway. I found it pretty strange that we'd run into people that we know in such a large city. We insisted that she come with us on our futile attempt to find a vegetarian Chinese restaurant. The subway made me think of Benessa and Japan in general. We made it onto a subway car and we were totally squished. The people packed themselves into the subway car. The entire compartment was a swimming mass of people, it was impossible to not be moved around with the motion of the train. People piled in far after it was reasonable at every stop. Eventually the subway came to a major departure point and as the doors opened, people literally jumped out of the door. Agile as cats and leaving at an incredible pace. The pressure in the car was physically crushing before the doors opened, we left with the flood of people.

We walked up and down the street searching for the restaurant and eventually found it closed. Drat. A cafe down the street was open. We had a bite to eat while we waited for Pat, a friend of Cate that runs wtfargentina. Pat and Cate discussed their newly purchased book about Love Hotels in Japan. Pat bought it as a research book. Specifically because she's interested in comparing them to the the local Argentinian phenomenon of the Telo. Though I suspect it's much more than that. Cate and Pat are working on cataloging lists of Telos, they're interviewing people who use them, planning to photograph both the people and the Telos. They're also doing research about the generally accepted existence of Telo culture. The social reasons for Telos are interesting. A difference with Japanese Love hotels is the issue of normalcy. It's basically a requirement to go to a Telo for sex if you're living in a small space with a generation or two of family. It's not really related to fetish at all. Though you might find a spaceship themed Telo, it's affordable and functional with a specific purpose relating to privacy. Still, it might be $15Ar for a one night stay with all the condoms you can use. The conversation for the evening was all over the place. From Telos to food to ways that people dodge visa requirements and all the rest of the usual expat conversation topics.

Kragen remarked that he felt like he was in a Hemingway novel. Paris had been replaced by Buenos Aires as the cheap place for expats. I said that it was close but not a single person had made racist or sexist comments. Certainly no one had asked about my last name and being Jewish. Kragen remarked that he had feared that he would fall into a pocket of Expats. I teased him about having done just that.

The rest of the evening was calm. I spent it reading code with some friends, drinking Mate and cursing my lack of backups for my stupid proprietary software phone. I felt pretty angry that I hadn't ever managed to make a backup because I don't run Windows. I felt even more angry that I hadn't just written the data down by hand. I've lost some numbers that I won't ever run across by chance without a major amount of work mining my own cell phone bills, tirelessly calling number after number to match up names.

I did enjoy the programming with friends part of the evening. I have a few friends here that I've known online for some time. We'd never met in person before and it was pretty great. It was as I expected it would be. All of us went out for vegan Chinese food. Unintentionally the topic of Hemingway returned to us. Specifically because an acquaintance asked out of the blue if I was a Jew. It was so out of context, Kragen and I laughed. Hemingway indeed. Though this time, the restaurant wasn't filled with expats. It was local Argentinian friends at the table.

After dinner, we stayed up all night working on projects, drinking Mate and talking. I went to bed far after the sun was rising.

I spent most of today reading Underground and talking with my friend in his apartment. We packed to go to DebConf in the early morning and sometime in the next ten hours we'll arrive in Mar del Plata.