Sufjan Stevens

Let’s face it, ladies: we could do a lot worse.

Isle of Novio

Sometimes, it’s good to get away every now and then!

Especially if the New Jersey Department of Child Welfare is hounding your ass. Or when, upon your return, you end up in some hobbit hole in Uruguay with your mother.

Or, perhaps, if it’s because you’ve been spending lots of time with a hottie.

Alas, hotties aren’t everything. (You heard Miss Cybil right!) So more, soon… I swear, Gladys! Don’t you just hate these cliffhangers!?!?!?

Cybil Blaine does Spanish lessons!

Lucia, my Spanish teacher, has three kids and has never traveled outside of Argentina or Uruguay. I would say that Uruguay is Argentina’s version Canada, but Uruguay’s status, in my opinion, isn’t even at that level. Chile is Argentina’s Canada. Which makes Uruguay, like, Argentina’s Rhode Island. (I’m sure Colonía is pretty, but what’s the goddamn point?)

So after Lucia asked me where else in the world I had been, I told her that last year, I spent some time in India. Her eyes got big. India! she said. I have a friend, who was a ballerina and has traveled all over the world, and she said that the country that changed her life was India. I said, I agree with her, that it changed my life, even though I have not been all over the world. Ah! She said. I cannot travel. I have three kids. But I will travel through you, right now. Lucia leaned in and looked at me. My eyes got big. How can you explain India to someone? You can’t, because there is no substitute for an experience. Also, until you reach the level of ‘fluent,’ there is no substitute for your native language. I looked back at the map, to India, and I told Lucia:

“India is the same as Argentina! I mean, the same size. But with 25 times more people! And it changed my life.”

“Incredible!” She exclaimed, nodding and imploring me to continue.

“There are many colors there, because of the clothes. Because there are one billion people with different clothes. And there are so many sounds and noises and music and flavors and, what is the word for [make a sniffing noise]? Ah yes, many smells. Some were not good. And the buildings! The buildings are so old and so beautiful, and there are so many, many buildings. And they are all important.”

She nodded, but her look of marvel began to soften. “You can tell me in English,” she said. “I would like to experience India.”

“No, but thanks, because I need to practice my Spanish. India is incredible! It is also very cheap. I bought this ring there [extends hand toward Lucia] and this, too [points to bracelet]. And all of these [points to jewelry on other hand]. They are beautiful, no? And they were very cheap. This [points to bracelet] I bought near the tree of the Buddha. There were many also people there, in that town, but there was more silence in this town because of the Buddha. They were sitting near the tree. I sat, too. And now, I sit mornings.”

Lucia folded her hands on the table. “Do you know of Mother Theresa?”

“Yes.”

“Bueno. Did you see her mission? You can tell me in English.”

“No, is okay, I would like to practice Spanish. I did not see her mission, but I did go to a city where Gandhi once lived. How interesting! That city changed my life, because that time, in that city, I was the only person I saw the entire day with white skin. For that reason, I think that the city was not very touristy. I felt, how do you say… in a different place. I felt different. And I saw, that when you have no idea what is happening because you do not know any of the words that the people around you are speaking, that it is very important to be nice to people. Because people are important. And they were very confused by me. I was the only white person, and I was very confused. And they saw that I was the only white person, and that I had more money than them, and it was important to be nice to them, I thought.

“Also, I saw lots of people who were very poor, and very, very sick—very, very sick, and they looked [points to face and cringes while making faint gagging sound]—but they were very happy. For me, that was very interesting. And I realized, it was okay to be poor. And maybe it is okay to be sick, too, I don’t know. I did not go very close to these people.”

Lucia pointed towards the ceiling, as though to make a point. “Do you know how many dresses you can wear at once?”

“Um…. does it depend on the weather? If it is cold, you can wear more than one?”

“No. You can only wear one dress at a time,” she said.

“Oh… oh, I understand. One dress. Yes, because to be poor is okay. I saw people who had nothing but were very happy in India. And when I returned to the United States, I saw a lot of people who had a lot of things and were very unhappy. Happiness is not things. It is something else, yes? It is, I believe, a point of view. And now… I am happy. I like Buenos Aires very much. The food, the people. I already have a lot of friends. And it is very nice here.”

“And why did you choose to come to Buenos Aires?” Lucia asked.

“Because… I wanted to go to Morocco or Turkey also, but to buy the plane ticket to Buenos Aires was cheaper for me.”

“That’s it?”

“Well… also, I thought, it’s good, because I am able to speak a little Spanish. And while I am in Buenos Aires, I can learn more Spanish. It would have been more difficult for me to learn Spanish in Morocco. Because Morocco is in Africa! They do not speak much Spanish in Africa, I think. And also I believe that to live in Turkey is more expensive than to live in Buenos Aires. But I do not know. Also, I like to eat dulce de leche very much. Too much. It is my favorite flavor, even before I arrived in Buenos Aires! And I like helado, the ice cream, also. And the sweets. And the carne. And empanadas! The flavors! And the bread. And now, the food in your country, it is here [points to thighs].”

[Laughs.] “Have you gained weight?”

“A little, maybe. But you see, that is okay, because I have just joined a gym. And now I run 3 or 4 times a week because of the dulce de leche. So now, for me, Buenos Aires is okay. Now, everything is good. And I am very happy to live in your city.”

Forget her camera? Miss Cybil did that!

Kids, take note: Miss Cybil does not forget things. True, she may forget the occasional holiday, birthday, or that time she “was supposed to pick her son up after surgery” (always with the club foot, Sal!), but generally speaking, her mouth is like a cave. Her brain’s like a trap door. Or something.

At least, she doesn’t forget her camera. But there are times when she just can’t take a photo, per se. And some times, these are the best times. Like the last week. I can’t show you a photo of:

1. The taste of eating an empanada after having an affair with a priest. (Hey, he wanted it!)

2. The cool lashing of a breeze off of a lakeside…. somewhere.

3. The joy of playing bingo on the bus while sitting next to a lady who just may want the first prize (a bottle of Vino) almost as much as you. And the ensuing attempt to have the winner disqualified, because let’s face it, did he really look older than 15? I don’t think so.

4. Patagonian sunsets that seem to last all day, stretch further than the horizon itself, and introduce a new color each day.

5. Seeing The Bourne Ultimatum on the big screen, with not one but two kids from Boston!

6. Taking a cab ride around the city at night. Just for the hell of it.

7. Finding a new apartment! Okay, I’m lying, I did take a photo of my little outdoor area:

Not shown: a really hot, shirtless guy who was right around the corner, ready to give me “breakfast in bed.” Hey–I’m divorced, Jimmy, give me a break. And you know what? I do pilates. Granted, not as much since I’ve fallen in love with the empanada stand nearby, but enough so that I deserve a little breakfast in bed, you know what I mean? Photo credit: Cybil Blaine.

P.S. What I’m trying to say is that I was unk-dray for about a week and am only now coming out of what my landlady so lovingly referred to as an “American coma.” God bless those Mexicans!

Royally screwing up her Mexican? Miss Cybil did that!

Lois, Gladys, Jimmy and Sal–prepare to wet yourselves. I’m not perfect. I know, I know, I know, who is? Aside from Bea Arthur, that is–that bitch has everything!

Since Mexican isn’t my first language (that’d be Klingon for all of you curious types out there), a few times, Miss Cybil has made a mistake here in Buenos Aires. And no, I’m not just talking about the reason I can’t go to Montevideo next weekend. Apparently you can make drunken eBay bids in the Southern hemisphere, too! I’m here to talk about mistakes I’ve made while trying to speak my 4th language, Mexican. Or use language at all, really. I’m also here on earth to preach the good word of Jesus, but the fact that you’re going to hell in a handbasket–not unlike my ex-husband, Voldemort–I’ll save for another day!

1. I told a pair of architects that I was unable to sit on my toes.

2. I told a group of college kids that I was a professional desk.

3. I told a doctor that in order to learn how to speak Mexican, I really needed a unique brunette.

4. I’ve told about eighty sales girls, twenty waitresses, ten cab drivers, and three of my kids that I didn’t need any help.

5. I told a guy from South Africa that I really enjoyed meeting him. (Note: this would have been in American.)

6. I failed to tell a girl from New Zealand that I wanted to punch her in the mouth.  (See above.)

7. I didn’t write to a friend of mine in China, a guy I’ll call Juan, that he was a douchebag in a recent e-mail I sent. In fact, there are about a million people whose douchebag status I’ve yet to reveal.

8. But I will. In time, I’ll post the others, too.