Knock on the door that says don’t knock
My last year of the millennium was spent at the end of the world, in Buenos Aires. A Rotary Ambassadorial Scholarship afforded me the marvelous opportunity to study Latin American literature and economic development. Most of learning came from the street, and not in the classroom. Talking to the locals, the demonstrations, Presidential elections, sadistic vanity, and absurdities of daily life provided a dynamic and dramatic learning environment.
In the land of Evita, Maradona, and countless cows, I had to visit a public hospital several times for a medical problem. While looking for the doctor’s office, I saw a sign on a door that said, “Don’t knock”. When I asked the receptionist where the doctor’s office was, she told me to knock on the door with the “Don’t knock” sign. That experience sums up my year in the austral Paris: what you think shouldn’t happen probably will and nobody except you will blink an eye.
BRAZIL, Sent by the Gods, and then abandoned (Section of Part Four)
Celestial Waterfalls await in South America
Embassy brings US exporters and province business closer
Following my bliss to the end of the world (Section of Part Four)
Inspired by Neruda (Chile-Mendoza) Part II
Land of Bovine Omnipresence
LIFE AMONG THE FLAKY (IRRESPONSIBLE) AND FAKE ARGENTINES
Living in the Hotel California, in Buenos Aires
SCHOOL ON THE STREETS (Section of Part Two)
Was that a bomb? No, Susan, it was just some provincial demonstration.
You know you are living in Latin America when… (Part Three)