I arrived back in Bs As yesterday at midday. Flying into Jorge Newberry airport, watching the tree lined suburban streets, boat marinas and soccer fields coming into view as we glided through our approach to the runway, it felt as if I was returning home. It is early autumn here. I had maté and pastries with Carina and Sergio in the afternoon and shared stories from the month long trip. It is nice to be back.
Tammy and I touched base by email because she had invited me to her Mother's May 3 birthday fiesta before I left. I had accepted the invitation thinking we would be back in Bs As by mid-April! I had no way of knowing I would return one day before the fiesta.
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Tammy's mother is a musician with a variety of other artistic interests and a group of eclectic friends who share her artistic bent. The fiesta tonight is in the far suburb of Don Torcuato (named after a famous Argentine industrialist), an hour from Bs As. It is a bit chilly and I am quite tired, but I really want to see Tammy, meet her family and mingle with this creative group of free spirits. I got a late start, but finally got a remise to pick me up about 11 pm and got to the fiesta about midnight.
There were 30 to 40 people in attendance at the ranch style home with its covered terraza and sprawling backyard. Tammy's mother was playing percussion with a group of four other electrically amplified musicians and a lead singer on the terraza, doing covers of nostalgic pop and rock hits, some in English, some in Spanish. The band was putting on an energetic and entertaining show! It was a very agreeable and lively setting with lots of interesting people to talk with, including one fascinating woman who ran a tropical nursery on the border with Paraquay. There was choripan, steaks, bread, salads and deserts, with wine and beer and sodas.
Tammy greeted me, and made sure I had food and wine shortly after I arrived. I met her brother and her sisters for the first time and finally met her very attractive mother. They all had such positive energy, it was a treat to meet them.
In the recreation room where the food was being served, Tammy gave me a tour of her family's history via the photos and mementos hanging on the walls. Her father appeared to have lived a kind of Hemingwayesque lifestyle, hunting wild boar, going on far flung expeditions, etc. He had been an airline pilot for one of the major carriers, so the family, including Tammy, had traveled widely. I did not realize until this night that he had committed suicide about a year earlier during the holiday season. Nothing would be the same afterwards, including the ever present reality of money.
We never know what kinds of things people have inside them, what kinds of secret pain, desire, frustration or capacity for love and transcendence. All we can do is be there for those we care about deeply. Sometimes it is enough just to listen. Sometimes not.
All I know tonight is how brave and strong this brilliant, talented young woman is, and how glad I am to know her.
In a small grace note about 20 minutes after arriving, my remise driver returned with my apartment keys, which had fallen out of my pocket in the back seat of his car. We'd had a very good discussion on the one hour drive to Don Torcuato, and he offered some excellent ideas and suggestions for Pan American Dreams. It was heartening to see that we had bonded and that he was looking out for my interests. I was very grateful.
I have no photos because I have not had a chance to buy another camera yet.
