Now we´re here...

Well, sorry I didn´t blog yesterday - 26 hours of travelling (via Rome, Buenos Aires and finally, Posadas) can do that to a girl.

I have also, rather annoyingly lost a post I was drafting this morning despite ´saving to Draft´, so I´ll have to try and remember what I said!

We were met in Posadas (to C´s disappointment no board with our names on) by a man called Marcello, who turned out to be our in-country co-ordinator Veronica´s husband, and V´s mum Norma too, who greeted us with hugs and kisses, as if we were her own.

C had noticed a lone girl by baggage reclaim who he reckoned was another volunteer, so when Marcello said he was waiting for ´una otra chica´, (check me out, with my effortless grasp of the language!), I ran back in to find her.

Turns out C was right. Her name is Catherine, she was to be on C´s first project (working in a children´s refuge) for 4 weeks...and she´d lost her luggage. I felt for her - what a horrible start to the trip - and, as I figured she and C were to be colleagues, and she was about the same dress size as me, I said she could borrow a few of my clothes till she got sorted. She thanked me absently, perhaps a little surprised by this act of kindness from a virtual stranger, perhaps still in disbelief of her loss, and went back in to fill in the necessary forms with Marcello.

Meanwhile a car pulled up for us, driven by V´s dad, Fernando. Veronica, Norma apologised, was held up with work.

In the car, I asked if the whole family worked for i-to-i and Norma laughed and said, no, but they often helped V out with errands now they were retired, and lovingly reflected that they ´would do anything for our children´. I felt a pang of homesickness as that reminded me of my own mum and dad back home, but it also felt comforting to have a kind of instant ´family´ over here...

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Our new home (for the next 2 months) is bright, comfortable and friendly. Our hosts are a chatty lady called Aida Beyer de Carles and her daughter Florence, a bright and pretty 19 year old, who has just started university in Psychology. Aida was a teacher till she retired, and speaks no English, but *lots* of Spanish, very very fast.

I´m not sure how much she thinks I understand, but I´m guessing immersion is the quickest way to learn! ´Flo´ is fluent in English, having studied at English school for 6 years, so is a major help when we really are lost, which is frequently.

The best bit for C, I think, is that they have a cute little dog, Camila, who is affectionate and playful in a puppy-like way that belies her 13 years and clouding eyes. I guess a dog´s wagging tail is a universal language, and she instantly made him less alien as she happily greeted him and nuzzled up to his leg.

After meeting the family, Aida walked with us into town to buy food for that night, chatting all the way. I probably understood only about 25%, but somehow we managed the journey without too many silent moments (mainly thanks to Aida!)

After she left us ´En Centro´ (having pointed out the local nightclub, ´Power´ the biggest in N. Argentina), C had a massive panic - any Spanish he´d learnt in the build up to this trip seemed to desert him on hitting Argentinian soil. I had to calm him down and gently persuade him to read the shop signs, road signs, notices on our wander to the river. With each sign he read out loud and realised he understood, with every ´Bueno!´, his confidence slowly began to grow.

We came back about 7.30 and ate with the family. Unfortunately by about 8.50 none of Aida´s cheery chatter made any sense as jetlag descended upon me with startling swiftness.

We had to make our excuses, politely, thanked them for the lovely meal, and by 9.30pm, we were asleep...

Saturday, we woke ridiculously early (jetlag, again) and I persuaded C to join me for a 20 minute jog to recce our new ´hood. Locals stared at us - I guess a slightly red-faced little Asian girl and a tall thin pasty white boy running round the blocks would stand out a bit...

I´ve put on a few pounds since breaking my elbow in a comedic-sounding but excruciating ice-skating accident last December (in short, a fat kid skated into me and fell on me, smacking my elbow into the ice...), so I´m determined to lose the lard whilst I´m away, preferably through exercise, rather than food poisoning.

Later that morning we had our ´orientation´ with V, to give us a little guidance on what to expect, although I´m still not really that much the wiser. All I know is my hours are 9-5.30 with a siesta from 11.30-2. C´s project is too far away and his hours, unfortunately are too different to mine for us to even meet for lunch. No-one else is teaching English, so I am doing the first two weeks entirely on my own - eek!

In the afternoon, C and I had a wander through town, he bought a fleece (it´s cold in Buenos Aires, and will only be colder in 3 months when we get there, mid winter). My shopping trip was less successful, as all the girls´shops seemed to stock for the oncoming weather are puffa jackets. I look like a short, tubby Michelin (wo)man, circa 1985 in every single one. Think I may have to freeze.

Saturday night now, so I´m off to get ready. We´re meeting Catherine for a bite to eat and might check out ´Power´. Catherine is a bit concerned as she still has so few clothes, but if we get refused entry, I said, it´s no biggie.

´Chow chow´ for now...

Waaaaah. So much still to do. How to distill 3 months of clothes into one rucksack? Still trying to edit down from seven pairs of shoes, all essential;

1) Flat pumps
2) Flip Flops
3) Trainers - for sporty things
4) Tango shoes (onepair of heels -pleeeeease?!)
5) Other trainers - for pootling
6) Walking boots (just in case of jungle hikes)
7) um...I forgot. Obviously edited that one out already.

it's late. C is still wanting to redirect his post, so I'll log out and carry on panicking in private.

Adios amigos for now...