Unofficially Salteña

I few things have happened in the past few days that I will take to be signs I can unofficially consider myself a Salteña. Since officially, it’s impossible for me to be born here in Salta.
First, a woman asked me for directions concerning the bus schedule and the bus destinations. Although my answer was “I don’t know,” I obviously appeared to be comfortable enough in my surroundings and approachable enough to ask for such directions.

Second, I stood in a line. I mentioned previously Argentinians love of lines, especially outside of banks, for as long as three blocks. I had to go to the bank, and since they are only open until 1pm or so, going in the morning before el comedor was my only option. I woke up extra early hoping to beat the rush and arrived at 8:40am to find out the bank didn’t actually open until 9am. A line had already formed outside, so I decided to wait. I waited for 25 minutes before being let in, and went upstairs (where you needed to go to exchange traveler’s checks) to stand in yet another line for another 30 minutes. It took over an hour altogether and I even had to take a taxi home in order to grab my book bag and run to the bus station to catch the bus to el comedor. It wasn’t the most rewarding or cultural experience, but at least now I know what many Argentinians go through on a daily basis.

Lastly, I have joined the inner circle of the mothers at el comedor. I was invited to participate in the game “Amigo Invisible,” known to us Americans as “Secret Santa.” I need to bring a regalito on Monday for Adriana—the only problem being, I don’t know who Adriana is. I cheated a little and asked Mari, the head woman, if tomorrow she could point Adriana out for me (since she wasn’t here today). I feel so special to be able to participate in their game!

Also, I get a strong feeling of satisfaction when I set up my day trip excursions at different tourist agencies and I’m asked what hotel I’m staying at. I have a home address to give—demonstrating my stay isn’t as temporary as just any tourist.

The only thing I’m missing is a Gaucho poncho. This is a red and black poncho worn by the soldiers back in the day. But I don’t think I plan to go quite that far…