there goes the neighbourhood

The trinamic trio has officially moved out of San Telmo, a very temporary move. We are now stationed on the cusp of Recoleta (muy affluent-chic) and Once (the incredibly affordable Jewish barrio). The best of both worlds.

Our departamento is on the third-floor of the south-east corner of a 50's-style high rise. The closets take up an entire wall and the couch comfortably fits 3-and-a-half (Benito). However, like most living spaces, there are idiosyncracies you have to learn. The water heater is outside on the balcony. The pilot light gets blown out everytime a hot-water tap is not turned on. The doors do not close all the way, which makes for a very interesting intimacy with roommates. The streets outside both bedroom windows run buses all night. Noises can be muffled by the garage-style shutters that proliferate this city. Nice.

Nevertheless, a different neighbourhood which means a different experience. Out on the balcony, if you look north up the street, there is a cement building almost a block wide and a block long. If the night is right, the moon casts its eerie light, the clouds roll in from the river's edge, the building looks absolutely ominous. It's a sanitorium. All but a few windows are dark, no life seems to escape from its clutches.

Looking south along the street, the apartments, much like our own, are outlined by streetlamps, the glow giving it warmer ambience. Life exists on this side: Christmas firecrackers pop off at all hours, dogs bark from balconies at the freedom of the dogs running through the streets, old Argentine men bantering about life's tribulations at 7am.

We, in the middle, observe it all and call it home. For now.