Cordoba

Once again I find myself bouncing between the yin and the yang of Argentina living.

It is a country of vast, open space, and a few large cities–for example, almost 50% of the country’s people live in in and around Buenos Aires. It’s a lot like Texas in that way.

After experiencing the isolation of the valley west of San Juan, it’s kind of nice to be back in an urban environment. And after a few days spent in Córdoba, I’m sure I’ll be jonesing for a return to the countryside.

Córdoba is the second-largest city in Argentina, located near what would probably be the country’s center of gravity–a ten hour bus ride away from Mendoza. Known for its nightlife, the population skews toward a younger, university student crowd.

I have until Friday to experience Córdoba. It’s a very old city. Buildings here date back to the 17th century. I don’t associate it with an identity as readily as Buenos Aires or Mendoza. It’s why I’m making this a slightly shorter stop. But I’m sticking around for a Friday night–to see if the nightlife is as good as I’ve heard.

The brightly colored walls of my hostel in Córdoba are only matched by my brightly colored shorts.

Those who know me know of my fondness for my orange board shorts. It’s laundry day in Argentina, and I don’t have any other pants to wear. It was a shortsighted choice to wash all of my pants–temperatures here dip into the 40s at night.

Daytime temperatures are pleasant. Although I probably look strange walking around in my green sweater and bright orange shorts, at least I’m not freezing my ass off.

 

I sit and wait for my laundry. I’ve been told that it might be finished tonight, but more likely I will get it back tomorrow morning. So I’ll probably be stuck here. Which isn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened, come to think of it.

I once found myself in a discussion of tradeoffs: would I rather stay in a hostel with hot water but no WiFi, or WiFi but no hot water? I was an outlier–the only one in the group to choose cold showers.

Is that really so crazy? From my perspective, it’s an obvious choice. Because I have been training myself to take cold showers, giving up hot water doesn’t seem like much of a sacrifice. But going without WiFi means being disconnected from my friends and family back home–a far more terrifying thought to me.

We’re all crazy in our own way. I would do well to remember that the next time I want to accuse someone else.

Hopefully Tuesday isn’t the hottest night of the week.

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