Sep 22, 2005 20:11
Oh, yes, I am still lingering around, having written--and discarded--a truckload of poems and beginnings of novels. Eugène is the same as ever, Abel has decided to switch schools, and my mother and father still refuse to speak with each other. I myself have gained a pound or two due to excessive ice cream-eating. I must stop that. It's becoming an addiction. A new analogy: Cocaine is to druggie as French vanilla ice cream is to Victor Hugo.
Spanish is interesting, to say the least. Becoming multilingual is an uphill struggle at times -- I myself have thrown random French words into Spanish sentences without really noticing.
As to the holidays -- not too exciting. My father's family is pleasant enough, if a little dull. I enjoy starting conversations and being the center of attention, but whenever I try to talk to them, I end up having a conversation with myself. At least they are liberalists. Perhaps I will warm up to them eventually. This was my first Christmas in America -- I have been so accustomed to French charm that I found their... dullness surprising. It was, "Let's go to church" and "Here is a present for you, Victor" in the morning, but as the day progressed, a few of my cousins decided it would be better to sit down in front of the television. I was reminded of Eugène who, despite his foreign name, is as "American as apple pie," as they say. I am not France's greatest patriot, but I find it hard to sit by and listen to my cousins mocking my country. Stereotypes amaze me. Curly mustaches, berets, and cigarettes....
Chicago was a rather nice city, though chilly. I visited a library there and was astonished to find some familiar names. I read my first work by that English playwright, William Shakespeare (not our Bill, mind you) -- King John, or whatever it was. An interesting piece, though there are more interesting things to write about than John Plantagenet if you ask me. Nonetheless, I have become interested in his works, so I'll be seeking them wherever I go.
Buenos Aires. Amazing.
Visited the Casa Rosada (of course), the Cemetery of the Recoleta, La Boca district, Puerto Madero, the Teatro Colon, the Plaza Dorrego (which had some fantastic flea markets, for those who like collecting old historical junk -- I myself now own a World War II-era Iron Cross), and the Obelisco Buenos Aires, situated in the middle of the widest boulevard in the world, the Ave. 9 de Julio. You can imagine how hellish it was to cross that.
One highlight was the tango at El Viejo Almacen. What a dance! Red, swirling colors, the tinkling of a piano's keys, passionate, focused partners, entwining in time with the music of an accordion.
I have kept a personal journal of my experiences there, which I may share once in a while here. I will show some pictures, too, once I get the scanner working again. Curse that infernal machine.
I am bored. So instead of completing my Physics homework, I'll translate some of Pliny the Younger's Epistulae. (Yes, I translate when I'm bored. Latin impresses many people.)
--V.H.