Buenos Aires kills me 

(versión en español debajo)

It seems I lost my argentinian condition… Right now, for my fellow countrymen I´m “the spanish”, while a few years ago I was “the english”...Since when the fact of having emigrated changes your nationality for the one of the country you now live in? The worst thing is that they don´t say it with disdain, but with a certain pride, as if it gave me a different status... Well, for some things, at least.

Each time I go back, everybody wants to know how I find Buenos Aires and they also want to know all the differences with the place I currently live in. From "what does coke taste like in Spain?" (yes, I´ve been asked that!) to "how do you see Buenos Aires?", people bombard me with questions, although sometimes they don´t really like the answers... While talking about coke is harmless enough, it is not as easy when it comes to my opinion about my birthplace. If my answer is a positive one, great. But if I say what I really think (which is what I usually do, cause I never learn), I haven´t got the right to talk because I left and I´m not better than a traitor.

The truth is, I see Buenos Aires from a variety of prisms. Its streets evoke mixed feelings characteristic of a tango lyric (which proves that I still carry my patriotism in my blood). On the one hand, I´m still bedazzled with its lifestyle, its incredible neighbourhoods and of course, the infinite and original leisure that defines this city. On the other, I feel profoundly sad to see so much marginality in the streets, the moodiness that flows in the air and the claustrophobic sensation I get when I realise I´m in the same place, twelve years later, and I´m still listening to the same excuses for everything...

Why do I go back, then? Because every “porteño”* knows that it is impossible not to miss a good barbecue with friends, and simply because these are the experiences that fill me with strength to carry on living abroad. So yes, I might criticise Buenos Aires a lot, but I love it deeply. That´s how passionate relationships work... But I accept it like it is, anyway. Because even though I can´t shake off its diabolic charm, I can´t live without it either.

*porteño: native from the capital

Buenos Aires me mata...

Parece que perdí mi condición de argentina…Ahora mismo, para mis compatriotas soy “la española”, hace unos años era “la inglesa”…¿Desde cuándo el hecho de haber emigrado te cambia tu nacionalidad por la del nuevo país en el que vives? Y lo peor es que no lo dicen con recelo, sino con orgullo, como si me diera un estatus diferente… Bueno, para ciertas cosas, nomás.

Cada vez que vuelvo, todo el mundo quiere saber cómo veo Buenos Aires y también las diferencias con el lugar en el que vivo. Desde “¿qué sabor tiene la coca-cola en España?” (sí, me lo han preguntado!) hasta ¿cómo encontrás la ciudad?”, la gente me atiborra a preguntas, aunque muchas veces no les gustan mis respuestas… Hablar sobre la coca-cola no tiene peligro, pero ya cuando entramos en cómo veo a Buenos Aires, puede pasar cualquier cosa. Si la respuesta es positiva, genial. Si digo lo que pienso (que es lo que suelo hacer, porque nunca aprendo) no tengo derecho a opinar porque yo me fui y no soy muy distinta de una desertora.

Lo cierto es que veo a Buenos Aires de muchas maneras. Sus calles provocan en mi los sentimientos contradictorios propios de la letra de un tango (lo que prueba que la argentinidad sigue corriendo por mis venas).  Por un lado, me sigo deslumbrando con el estilo de vida, con sus barrios increíbles y con la infinita oferta del original ocio que nos caracteriza y que hasta ahora no encontré en ningún otro lugar. Por otro, me entristece profundamente la marginalidad que encuentro en sus calles, el malhumor que se respira en todos lados y la sensación de agobio que me produce estar en el mismo lugar, doce años más tarde y escuchar los mismos argumentos para todo…

 ¿Por qué vuelvo, entonces? Porque cualquier porteño que se precie sabe que es imposible no extrañar un buen asado con los amigos, y simplemente porque son las experiencias con ellos las que me inyectan de fuerza para seguir viviendo fuera. Sí, puedo criticar mucho a Buenos Aires, pero la amo profundamente. Así son las relaciones pasionales... Pero igual la acepto. Porque mal que me pese su embrujo endiablado, no puedo vivir sin ella.

Friends

Some people ask me how I can move from country to country, how I manage to leave my friends behind… The truth is, my life is s little bit like my storage room. It hasn´t got infinite space, but enough to keep the people worth having around.

Some say friendship needs to be nurtured. But I believe we do that every time we start a new friendship. People that mark you, whatever the reason, are forever tatooed in your life, wether you keep in touch with them or not.

That´s how I recently met with a friend from Venezuela whom I hadn´t seen in ten years, and yet, it seemed not a day had passed. Or get reunited with all my colleagues from London after two years, even though they had stopped seeing each other as well. Some of the people I lost touch with from my time in the States add me as a friend in facebook one day and remind me of things I completely forgot about. And even one of my best friends doesn´t mind to come all the way from Patagonia just so we can see each other every six years or so.

The best thing about all this is that there is still room for the people that keep arriving into my life…Suddenly, I find myself in Buenos Aires, sitting in a bar terrace with “eight new friends” that I´ve only just met a couple of hours ago, and yet I cannot stop laughing. And there are also the ones that currently sorround me who, just like me, want to spread their wings and start flying at their first opportunity.

People ask me if I´m not afraid to let them go, to lose what we now have. As time goes by, I realise that “what we have” cannot be lost, it is forever imprinted in our memory and it comes back whenever life allows it. Every new person I meet enriches me. But none occupies anoybody else´s place. They arrange themselves like a tetris game, building the pillars of my life...