Dinner with Enrique

I was in the mood for pasta. My stomach never sits well after long flights, so I thought some good ol’ carbs would help—and my cab driver had mentioned Italian food here was good. The hotel’s help desk told me about a place quite a walk away. I decided I was too lazy and didn’t want to risk being mugged, so I stuck to my familiar spots which consisted of the street my hotel is on. Of course, walking outside, I realized that I don’t have a high chance of getting pick pocketed because Spanish people always stay out late (of course its 7:30pm at this time) and there were way too many people on the street to be worried. Secondly, I also realized I had forgotten to bring a book with me to read with waiting/eating, but again, I was too lazy to go back up and get one. So I find a nice looking Italian place and am greeted by a 70 some year old man who seats me, asks where I from, and starts a conversation. This is Enrique. Amidst his duties as greeter, since I was seated immediately next to the door, I had a conversation with him throughout my meal. I told him I was going to work in Salta at a community center, and he immediately asked if it was religious.

I had never thought about that. I guess I don’t realize how many missionaries run around South America, but it still seems a little strange when 90% of the residents are Catholic.

Shortly after, I helped him with his English—basically clarifying the difference between “I” and “you” and explaining how to sound out “do” and what “it” means. The final product was him asking me “Do you like it?” He practiced quite a few times in reference to my pasta dish, my glass of wine, and my meal altogether.

He asked that I try and come back to the restaurant (called La Casona de Nonna on Avenida Lavalle) when I return to Buenos Aires before I fly back to the states. I think I will definitely try to take him up on that request. I told him he could see how well my Spanish had improved, and I made him promise to practice his English.

It was refreshing to have a conversation, although there was a language barrier when Enrique was asking if the U.S. universities had scholarships (but I didn’t know the word in Spanish, so it took awhile to sort out the meaning). I will have plenty of down time during my trip, to think, reflect, and write this blog—but if it weren’t for these small social interactions, then I probably wouldn’t have a whole lot to say. Ciao.