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Someone apologized to me today. It was incredible. I almost didn’t know what to do. I was standing in line at the Jumbo on Guardia Vieja in Buenos Aires when I realized the price on the fresh ricotta I was buying was impossibly high. As in $40 for a tiny little container. So I went back to the cheese guy, told him I thought there was something wrong with the price, and he changed it, handed me the container back (actual price, about forty five cents) and then said “perdoname” (but not perdóname, because that’s what the cheese guy in Chile would say if a) they sold fresh ricotta and b) he deigned to correct the situation and c) actually felt badly about it. Or maybe it was disculpame instead of discúlpame, embarassingly, I still do not really distinguish between these words.

So apologies. Imagine that. And fresh ricotta and cheap used books and “vegetable antipasto” in the supermarket and 600 ml diet coke and mosquitos and classic architecture and broken sidewalks and graffiti and a general noise level that’s much higher than what you get in Santiago.

It’s Buenos Aires. And it’s been a jetlaggy good time, but it’s time to go home. I’m curious to see the tent city airport I’ve heard about, and cautiously awaiting the opportunity to see for myself what’s going on in my apartment. I had spent a few days deep cleaning and organizing before I left, which is probably a combination of bad and good planning. At least I´ll know that any dust present was raised by the earthquake and not by my poor household upkeeping skills. I’m sure it will be fine, and I will be happy to have a place to live, and all of my greedy greedy stuff, even if I have to sweep n mop n stuff a bit.

See you on the pacific side!