We thought we would do some last-minute shopping and took the subte down to Callao. I wanted to head straight for El Ateneo but Viv saw Zivals and wanted to go there instead. Well Zivals was closer and I never argue with a woman about shopping.
For some reason we ended up looking in the DVDs at the English films and were amused by the title “Enrique V” to those not familiar, this was “Henry V”. Viv said “I don’t understand why they translate names”. Someone else was having difficulties and as he was an English speaker he tried us for help. His name was Mathew and he hailed from Cape town though by his accent we guessed not a native. We found out he was originally from Windsor and was here for the Tango, so we had a lot in common.
I did the “your from South Africa, you must know” thing I am afraid, and although it is a big country, the tango scene is still quite small. So although Brigitte is from Johannesburg and Mathew from Cape town, he did know our friends. It seems they both work in the travel industry so the links are closer than we thought.
Mathew had brought travelers cheques with him and was having trouble changing them, we made some suggestions though I am afraid we never use them so despite knowing our way around we do not know the best places to exchange travelers cheques. We told him we would be in Porteno Y Bailerin tomorrow and that it was only a block away, but I think he is being guided to places nearer to where he is staying and not well enough versed in travelling the city yet to navigate here at night.
We had hoped to find some sheet music for our friend at home but we had no luck either here or in El Ateneo so in frustration we went to a very nice cafeteria on Santa Fe and Callao (where they also do not sell sheet music). We had a glorious piece of apple crumble that we shared, it was far too expensive, but hey we are on holiday and it is getting near the end. So we sat in the window luxuriating with our expensive confection, looking out at the street life.
On the corner a young man paced up and down accosting every passer-by trying to sell them a copy of Hecho en BsAs their version of The Big Issue, nobody was taking him up on his offers, hundreds passed him by, most trying their best not to even acknowledge his existence.. I felt guilty sitting there at a table having spent nearly £10 on something we really did not need and watching him struggle to earn pence. He was after all not begging, he was selling a magazine, I have an issue with people who just stand with their hand out but this guy, at least was making some effort.
So I went out and a) Kicked his dog and told him to Fuck off.
or b) paid more than the cover price for a magazine.
Choose your own ending and which would a local have done?
I never got my sheet music although we did get some presents and we still seek some raffle prizes, but what exactly we are after will only become clear when we have it.
This post is in danger of becoming too big so I have decided to creat a new one for the night.