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If you ever decide to come to Argentina, you need to try this. Provoleta. Grilled provolone cheese. For a european cheese lover like me, this could be one of my top TOP candidates. I would eat it all the time if it did not require the grilling part. Truth is it can be done in the oven, but who knows what that would taste like. I prefer to not do any experiments with this perfect creation. Grill it or do not eat it.

Beautiful day, here with Jaime's mother and grandmother. His abuela (grandmother) is quite well-known here in Argentina. She's a journalist and radio-profile who fought against the dictatorship in the 70's. She was also a member of the CONADEP, an organization trying to investigate the fate of the desparecidos (victims of forced disappearance). Very sad story of Argentina, but I do not know enough to be talking about it though. And Jaime's mother, the best hostess you could imagine. Always making you feel exactly as if you were at home.

Well, anyone who knows me also knows very well cooking is not my specialty. In any form. I think I like it sometimes, if you have company, but I have not completely made up my mind yet. However, this is my creation believe it or not. A Kladdkaka, very Swedish, and you cannot believe how "kladdig" it became, with crispy corners of course (those are the only thing I would eat if I had it to myself...). Speaking of sweets and candies btw, I miss it. Lindt chocolate is as close to MmmmMmmm Marabou I get here, but one package and you are broke. Half your savings on chocolate, even I have not gotten THAT desperate yet.
And also, we went to the movies the other day. Strong movie, about the "Getty family", and one of the richest men in the history. Recommended, although I cannot remember the name. Speaking of going to the movies, it does not happen that often, but it is a must to buy something to bring with you into the salon. Candies, chocolate, or some popcorn. I decided candy, and was jumping high of excitement when I realize I could buy "pick-and-chose". Pay by the kilogram, of course. I bought 100 grams, I mean like 7 (!!!!) candies and they charged me 35 kronor. COULD NOT BELIEVE IT. What a robbery, no? Back home I would pay 7kr for that, I mean I could have bought 5 times as much for the same price. I felt like a little kid who just got half her bag (and more) of candies stolen.

Argentinian advice.

Platense, "Calamares". Jaime's team. You ask me what's my team? I'd probably say KU Seahawks. It is good enough. Here you are (I am not saying everyone but almost), born to love a team. I mean with all your heart, so much your girlfriend might even be a little jealous of a whole team of male football players. It is funny, and it was a great experience. A lot of cheering, singing, and of course, swearing. One day I'll show you guys the book I got from Jaimes's mum "che boloudo", a gringo's guide to understanding the argentinians. Hilarious.

"Platense sos y vos sos la alegría de mi corazón,
yo doy todo por esta pasión,
doy la vida por verte campeón,
y a mi no me interesa en que cancha jugués,
local o visitante yo te vengo a ver,
cada día yo te quiero más,
ni la muerte nos va a separar!"

Something like this...

"Platense you are the joy of my heart,
I give everything for this passion,
give my life to see you as champion,
and I do not care what field you play,
local or visitor I come to see you,
every day I love you more ,
not even death will separate us!"

It is a passion, I I admire that. It brings people together, and it might have a downside too, but mostly it's all on the bright side. Fascinating.

I got to borrow this shirt from Jaime's friend. He never wears the shirt to a game, it is mala suerte (bad luck). They are all about that stuff here. There was a few younger boys there, smaller cousins of Jaime's friend. One of the boys, he was like 12 years old, he decided to go down the stairs for a little to stand and watch. And GOOOOOOOOOOOOOL, they score. Platense GOOOOOOOOOOL. He came running up, everyone is hugging, clapping, kissing when they score. It's a big celebration. The boy came all the way up, celebrated, but then his uncle told him to go down there again. "Platense scored when you were down there, come on, go go go.". He started running down the stairs.

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One of my biggest challenges when arriving to Buenos Aires. Jaime lives outside the city, and it takes between 25 minutes and two and a half hours (!!) by car depending on the traffic haha. A bit of a mess at times. Also when driving you shouldn’t keep doors or windows open at all times, might be a huge mistake. The mother of one of Jaime’s friends had a little accident the other week, even without open windows. She was at a red light when a guy on a motorcycle drove past and crushed her window with his elbow (he wore some kind of metallic thing). He didn’t manage to rob her, but as she got scared when the window crashed the accidentally pushed the gas and hit the car in front of her. Still a mess, and as always an unbelievable story (in my ears).

Also before I arrived here Jaime was driving on the highway to get to downtown, when all the sudden a stone smashed his front window. A nice crack from one side to another, but as he knows how Bs As works he kept driving. Good for him. Apparently there could be guys standing on top of the bridges, they drop a stone which cracks your window. The driver might pull over, and as he does there are other guys waiting for him. Waiting to rob him. WHAT. So a very planned robbery.

Today I went with Jaime to the U.S embassy to get his Tourist Visa, almost as complicated as getting your student Visa haha. Its 2-3 interviews etc, BUT you get a tourist visa which can be valid for up to 10 years I believe. Kind of annoying when you have to renew it, but convenient too.

​So as I grew into it a little bit here, I finally figured out how to go by bus/train. Although I always need my phone to be 100% charged, I need to have put money on my phone so I do have internet, and at the same time I need to watch my phone and not be holding it for everyone to see all the time. It’s kind of tricky when google maps is REQUIRED. The application they offer okay, but it has one problem. It tells you take bus 143 from Santa Fee 200-300 (AND WHERE IS THAT?), and then take the bus at Panamericana/Marquez (AND WHERE IS THAT AND WHEN DO I GET OFF THE BUS?). Meaning it does not tell you how you get to the station, when to get off the bus, where you might need to walk to get to the other bus you’re talking. Plus, depending on where you go its almost at least 1-3 changes of buses haha.

But at the same time I love going by bus/train here, it makes me feel independent and free. Also, its interesting to look out on the different neighborhoods, houses of millionaires, ”villas” (slums), lower middle class, higher middle class, stores, shops, dry cleaners you name it. Sometimes it does make me a little sad, one of the buses I take to and from Spanish classes (daytime!!) passes through a little ”villa”, and at times there are people who seem very poor. Mothers with ten kids hanging from each body part you know, and dirty and so on. It makes my heart break a little.

Also the other week I did have a funny episode on the bus. That bus. A little funny but also little scary. One guy got on the bus at the same station as me, and he was acting very weird. Talking to everyone including himself. And all the sudden another guy who was already on the bus comes to the front and sits down next to me. He started talking in a low voice about how annoying the other guy was, and of course I did not understand every single world as he spoke in a low voice and sooooo fast. But the he mentioned that the other guy was going to rob someone, or me, or I don’t know exactly, but he told me I should get off with him. HA. As if. I should get off with him to avoid having the other guy robbing me? Nej nej nej. Well, I called Jaime. I don’t know how much English that guy knew (hopefully nothing), since a told Jaime it was a bit of a weird guy sitting next to me on the bus. But I just pretended to be talking to Jaime about me arriving in minutes and him meeting me by the station. ”Oh perfect, you’re already there?”. ”See you soon, besito bla bla.” And the guy next to me starts imitating me haha, like ”bla bla bla bla”, mumbling and mumbling. BUT well, he left. He went to the back of the bus again, and went off the bus couple of stations before me. Yesyesyes.

Ciaaaaoooo todos, hablamos pronto 

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Puerto Madero, close to the harbor in Buenos Aires. So beautiful, and a Saralie’s father explained to me why someone living on the west coast in Sweden would feel like home here. Long time ago there was a Swedish family exporting and importing to/from Argentina. The truth is most of the stones in Puerto Madero area are originally taken from the west coast of Sweden. Amazing, all that way for some stone. This family got paid in property and land, and thats why the Swedish embassy ended up located here.

This day I was on my way to meet up with Olivia, and it was like 100 degrees. I had just been at an interview with Expanish, to do like an 50% internship, 50% Spanish studies. Well, my Spanish is improving every day but there and then a couple weeks ago an interview in Spanish was still a bit tricky (probably today as well). It was a mixto of two languages, and it was hard to know if he got a good impression or not. Whatever. I GOT MY INTERNSHIP IN BARCELONA. Moving in April. I’m sooooo happy, and its a dream come true to work and live in Barcelona. Also Linnea is there, YES YES YES. I get to keep working on my Spanish, and I’ll be getting my first real work experience within the field of business.

Also, we visited MALBA, which is like the Museum of Modern Art in Buenos Aires. I love going to museums, I believe its fascinating. But unfortunately talking art and different eras with me is like talking to a wall. Well, I always learn something.

Buenos Aires downtown by night.

My absolute favorite spot. In the backyard of Ale’s house (Jaime’s mum). I love it.

Oh yeah, fun fact. There are people for EVERYthing here. When we arrived to the house mid-day the other week there was like a weird sound going off. It sounded exactly like the ice cream truck that used to come the neighborhoods back home haha. In the middle of the street there was a shirtless man riding his bike and blowing some sort of whistle. Ale and Jaime were like ”ooohhh its him again… the knife sharpener”. I mean, what!? A guy riding his bike, with all his tools, around the neighborhood blowing a whistle and wanting to sharpen your knife. That is his job.

So I’m waiting for Jaime to buy the sprite at the gas station and this jewel is just rolling past. Back and forth back and forth. 22:00 at night all alone, shirtless. And when he goes past he gives Jaime a little wink haha. Hero. I wonder where his parents were though, but he seemed to have it all under control.

Another funny happening during the same gas station visit. El negro, jaimes friend, is putting gas in his car. Here they have guys helping you (of course). You tell them what you want, they put the gas, you pay, you go. This time it wasn’t that easy for him to go. The fuel hose (or gas hose or whatever you say) was still attached to the car as he started driving. I just heard people screaming “para para paraaaa” (stop stop stop) and the hose SNAPPED. BOOOOOM. El negro literally jumped out the car haha, a little chaotic moment but well. It happens I guess. Luckily nothing blew up, or no one blew up or got the whose snapped back in the faces.

All good, we drove away. The people are suppose to have removed the hose before you’ve paid, so it wasn’t the fault of El negro. Anyways they left a nice little mark on the car. Life goes on...(I guess...)

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On our way to Punta del Este, Uruguay. Or I don’t know, like legally according to country boarders and stuff, we were in Uruguay, although Punta feels like Argentina. Its like an invasion of Argentinians in PDE summer time, everyone goes. Well, let me correct that because not everyone goes. The boat (or 40 min flight) to get there is expensive, living even more expensive and so on. It’s looks like a little Miami by the beach, which is a little bit sad because I hear the stories of how it used to be 50 years ago. Small town with little houses on a peninsula in the Atlantic. It is beautiful and a bit rare to me. I don’t think Ive been to a place before where its sooooo much money in such a small area. Houses and apartments are unbelievable.

New Years Eve, you know how it is back in Sweden…Extremely organized and certainly a special occasion. A lot of black elegant dresses, its like a tradition to buy a new dress for new years every year. Cannot believe I have spent 3 New Years away though. My last one at home was a little messy with my big black boot (from my broken heel bone) with Julia Nyberg at Hellgrenshage in Malmslätt. That was good times, however back to the tradition. Everyone dresses up, its cold and dark, and if you’re not where you’re supposed to be for the night at 18.00 the latest that’s STRESS ATTACK. You meet with friends, family or both. Eat some nice very special food, if you’re my age you might be drinking as well (it isn’t uncommon). Its a loooooong wait, until its 00.00, and everyone is excited about it for at least 6 hours before its gonna happen. THE NEW YEAR. Big stuff, plans needs to be made, goals set, promises written down, predictions. We hava at least 15 seconds of countdown and then BAAAAAM its a new year. It feels good. (For those who stayed awake/alive until 00.00).

In Punta, New Years was a little backwards to me. First of all I still struggle with Christmas feelings and New Years excitement when I’m in a warm place and its not supposed to be (!!!) that time of the year. These days happen in winter. Winter winter winter. Dark and cold and cozy. However, we all met upstairs in his grandmothers apartment at 22.00. I went there 21.30 to see if I could help with anything. Already everything was done and prepared, but where were the people? Everyone showering and getting ready ON NEW YEARS EVE at 22.30-23.00, I couldn’t believe it. The guests arrived around 23.00, and we sat down to start with all that delicious food. Dios mio. And then all the sudden its BOM BOM BOM and all the fireworks started, we all went out on the balcony and watched with amazement. 00.03 I looked at my phone and I realized it had been 00.00 already. The BIG moment, and I ”missed it”. We were eating and chatting and tjolahopp and it was done. Over. New Year already. I wasn’t prepared, didn’t have time to get too excited and make all this promises and so on. It was actually a bit stressful haha, which such a calm and relaxed NEW YEARS. Well, I was happy though. You don’t have to make everything such a big deal all the time Sarita. Relax and enjoy, and so I did. One million hugs and kisses outside on the balcony and a fireworks show I won’t forget. 2018 my friends, what a year to come.

Besitos

No tengo palabras. Also it was Jaimitos birthday. 23 years old. When I turned 23 in November it felt a little weird. Being 22 is okay, I can still go "whatever, I am still young", and with 23 I don’t know haha. Feel like those words are slipping away, but whatever I am still young. 

​Paradise. ​

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And so life in Buenos Aires went on, weeks past. Can’t say I don’t miss my friends and family cause I do. But I will have that same problem anywhere in the world I decide to go. Family is in Linköping, most of them, one brother somewhere in South America and my friends are L I T E R A L L Y spread aaaaaall over this world. And this picture of the pool was from a day of pre pool party pregame (wow, a lot of pre’s there). Anyways, lucky people who has a pool in Buenos Aires in summers. Otherwise it’s impossible to live some of these days. You find yourself in the sofa with the fan half a meter away from sucking in your hair and face. But it’s needed.

And speaking of pools. The gaps between the social classes in Argentina are huge, sadly. If our gap at home is 30 meters here its 300 meters between the richest and the poorest. My parents are teachers and nurses, and my neighbor might be unemployed since years living in a house little bit smaller than mine. OR the family next to ours are doctors and lawyers and the house might be just a tiny bit bigger who knows. Point is, all of us, all the kids from these three different families went to the same school, same school trips, same University etc. We weren’t divided based on money.

Here we were eating, TEA TIME. Well, in general all the meals are postponed a little bit here. Breakfast later, and that’s always a somewhat small breakfast. Not like back home where a weekend breakfast could be the size of 10 meals. A little tostado, with marmalade or and some creme cheese maybe. Lunch is a bigger meal, and also a bit later. And there are no ”fikas” unfortunately, but there is TEA TIME. Usually the meal between lunch and dinner, some more tostados or aa few empanadas. Dinner is served between 21.00-23.00 I would say. Maybe earlier maybe later, I never know what time it is. Or barely. They don’t speak about time the same way as we do. Really not. It might be time for this or that, but the exact time - who knows?. Not even the local buses have a time schedule, they just drive. Every 7 minutes maybe, which still depends. The local buses and trains are funny. I’ll tell you more about that too. However its kind of nice to be a little bit more relaxed with time. 1-2 mintes late, no pasa nada.

Church, La Iglesia Sueca. Re linda. Downtown Buenos Aires. We had ”Luciafirande” and we sang aaaaall the classics any swedes could ever think of. I’m not the best singer (as anyone who knows me already knew) but whatever. Hiding behind some white dresses and lights, even I can sing. Here’s also where I met Olivia Linderoth, who was the one inviting me to do the performance. So Olivia and I got to know each other here, in Buenos Aires, 12,560 km away from home. And the funniest part is that we grew up in the same little town outside of Linköping. Brokind. We event went to ”Spindeln” (The Spider) together, which is like the daycare you go to all those years before starting kindergarten. Unfortunately it was a little bit of a bad timing when we met because her family came to visit for a while and then I went to vacation in Punta del Este. Also, our brothers are best best friends. Both traveling together in Colombia right now.

The slums, "villas". Totally different thing from all other slums I’ve ever seen. Before Argentina I have only seen ”real” slums in Asia, and they’re very different. The poor people in India don’t have ANYTHING. They live in their little shelter made out of pieces of steel basically. The food they eat are found on the streets mostly, no healthcare, no chance of getting and education, no nothing. It’’s a misery. The slums in Buenos Aires are also full of misery, drugs, children running around, lack of food, and dirty clothes. However its different. Most people living in the slums here are working outside of the slums, doing their own little businesses, construction work, or as they could be working as a maids in other families and their houses. Of course most of the work they do is black. They do get governmental aid and support, although I doubt its a sufficient amount for anyone to live off of. In here there are restaurants, club, schools, recently they built a bank inside, grocery stores etc. The have their own law, living in their own world separated from the rest of society. Its sad, and strange to me. Extremely dangerous for anyone, even the police, to enter and of course it is a lot of drugs circulating.

Another strange thing is the park in Palermo at night. Palermo is a very nice area downtown Bs As. At night that park transforms into a runway (one street) of transvestite prostitutes. The government has been moving their business from one inappropriate place to another, trying to hide this business as good as possible. Police don’t interfere - and again - I don’t understand. WHY DONT THEY STOP THEM? Its not legal according to the law, but legal according to the way they live and do it here. That goes for other things as well, it might not be legal according to the book, but the people do it, everyone knows about it, and nothing is done to try and stop it. You see the street behind bushes and trees and its alive at night. ”Women” walking up and down, private cars but mostly cabs who are driving past and picking people up or even sometimes just staying there. Unbelievable.

Beautiful sunset. Also little bit of the ”villa” (slums) here. Driving home from downtown.

Here I was with Tonita, Antonia, Jaimes cousin. She’s adorable, and she was great company for a day. We ate tostadas, went to the pool, and played some board games. I was her ”guest” at the Tennis Club. Speaking of the Tennis Club I do have a funny story to tell, which happened a week before or so. Its an amazing club where they are members, and Jaime used to spend a lot of time there as a kid. All the people working there recognizing him and telling me how it feels like yesterday when he was running around the club in diapers. It’s kind of exclusive the Club, which is a little bit different than what I know and what I grew up with. Sports clubs are for everyone, and its a small yearly membership fee but anyone who wants to play football, tennis, handball, floorball can do it. It is possible. Here I don’t know where you would go to play tennis if you didn’t have much money, or even play football. I never thought it would be this hard to find just a regular football field in Argentina. I thought they would be EVERYWHERE and for everyone. They’re still everywhere for sure, but its kind of expensive to rent a field.

Well, whatever. So Jaime and his family are members at the Tennis Club, and I’m so happy I get to go. This time though, we went to the little bit more exclusive location downtown and it happened to be the wrong day for guests to play. I could only come Mondays and Fridays or something. I had been looking forward soooo much to this hour of tennis, so much I started crying like a 5-year old when I didn’t get to play....... All the courts were pretty much empty, and I had to sit outside watching Jaime and his cousin playing for a while. Boiling of course, and I would have done anything to play in that moment haha. BUT rules are rules. And somewhere I do understand that of course they cannot allow for guests to play on any day or however much they want, it wouldn’t make sense (note all fields were empty that day). So after a couple deep breaths I calmed down, and realized it wasn’t the end of the world. A bit funny afterwards.

The day before Christmas. After almost 2 hour boat ride on the river. A little pearl for sure. Its Jaime’s uncle’s hotel, and the whole family gathered for Christmas. Although the morning after we went back to Bs As to celebrate with his mother and her family.

Well, how hard can it be to find a field to play on? Not harder than Jaimes mother's cousin having a contact at Marangoni (like a sports center suuuuuper close to where Jaime lives). She got me on a women's team and tadaaaaa, I am playing again. The level is a little bit shaky, there are a few good players but how much could you expect when these girls probably didn’t play that many years on a team, and never had like regular trainings or anything. Ive been on a team with 2-9 practices a week pretty much since I was 6 years old. Its different, and extremely hard to find a competitive women’s team here. I checked the website for like Boca Juniors and River Plates’ women’s team and found the roasters, but the girls look a bit scary. BEASTS. But it would be so cool to get like a tryout with one of those teams just to find out what the level is. Of course, they hardly get paid.. surprise surprise…

BUT the other night I went with Jaimes friends girlfriends sister (hehe) Sonia to play downtown. A ”mixto” men and women, 5v5, boys couldn’t score which was a little bit lame but the level was amazing and some the girls really impressed. Wow.

Another dream would be to start a futbol femini academy here in Bs As.

​ Eye of a tiger.

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December 2nd 2017.

I had just arrived, feeling anxious and happy. Jaime picked me up at the airport and took me home to la Casa. I love his mums house, it's quite big but small at the same time. White walls, purple and white couches, colored pillows, a red wall there, a blue wall there. And her backyard is incredible, full of different green colors, flowers and bushes, tomatoes, and a lemon tree. On our way back from the airport the sun was setting and all the sudden I see pieces of what used to be a bridge crossing over the highway. "What happened here!?!?!". "Ehhmmm, its quite funny actually. Like two weeks ago a truck drove into the bridge and it all fell apart (no one was injured luckily), but the truck had been a little bit too tall. And I was thinking to myself while smiling "Welcome to Buenos Aires Sarita".

The days following we tried to organize our lives as I was getting used to the heat as well. It was pizza events and football tournaments at Pasion. Wow, we should organize something like that in Sweden. Teams pay like 200 dollars for the whole season (March to November) and they play once a week against different teams in your league. It's on Fridays and Saturdays normally and EVERYONE comes there. It's 15-year olds and 65-years olds refereeing the games. One of them called the "Aleman" (German). Boys and men competing against each other and afterwards everyone gathers under the tents with beers in one hand and a choripan in the other. The party goes on until 21-22 in the evenings, and like I said, anyone could be there. Its kids running around, old men and women, football players and friends. In the middle is a little stage as well, where they put the music early in the afternoon. It later becomes THE dance floor.

Oh yeah, and also. People all come driving in cars, of course. And after all those beers they're also driving back. So once the police put up a control in the area, right when you exit the fields. One week later the controls were gone. Pasion paid off the police to stay away and let them keep attracting the boys and girls with football and beers. Weell, dont know what to say. I'm still surprised by these things, although not as much anymore.

Also added some pictures from a pizza-event. And to right right you can see the famous and delicious choripan. 

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Sara Lundberg we said. Soy Sara en castellano. The language I am trying to learn here on a daily basis. I met my boyfriend, Jaime, two and a half years ago at University in West Palm Beach. Argentinian. Spanish speaking (or I'm not sure what to call it), heavily influenced by Italian with a distinguished slang. For any native Spanish speaker it can be tricky to understand the regular conversation of two Argentinians. When I arrived here Jaime's mother gave me a very much appreciated(!!) gift "A gringo's guide to understanding Argentinians" (Che Boludo). It's hilarious. I will give you some examples here another day. Its unreal, Makes you either burst out in laughter or want to cry because it's unbelievably stupid. Handy though. So thank you Ale.

And to give you a short introduction. I came here on November 30th, and thought it would be the most glorious days of my life. Being with Jaime, summer, the heat, learning Spanish, another adventure. BUT turned out it was not that easy, and it took us both a while to realize that this was going to be a little bit complicated. I mean, he's from Argentina and I am from Sweden (basically as far away as you can possibly get from each other I think). The two opposites, but still we find ourselves having a lot in common. And by that I mean a lot, like the fundamental values, morals etc, which is crazy when you realize he's brought up here in the middle of this (sometimes) chaotic place (well most of the time), and I come from Brokind where 500 people lived in a little town we all call "home". Still, it has never felt like a sacrifice to be with each other, we want to. It is simple, and we get to live this beautiful life traveling between two opposites which both has their pros and cons. Although sometimes that gives room for a little frustration, a lot of comparisons, and at times some loneliness. First of all, the most difficult part of arriving to Buenos Aires was the feeling of loneliness. I had Jaime (and of course his mother), but then that was it. Never before had I come to a place without being "a part of something", like a sports team, a school class. When you're a part of a soccer team its almost ironically easy. I was introduced to 20 girls, and after 1 week I had 20 new friends who were all part of this big family. We had a purpose which united us. Here I went to Spanish twice a week, and I, and I, and I...well, that's what I did. Forget about just winging your first time going by local bus or train here, impossible. Another little topic I'll tell you aaaall about. Last time they wanted to sell me chocolates, and candy (sleeping babies almost falling from their mothers arms into your knee), and you got to listen to a lot of music on board the train. Drums going ba ba ba ba ba.

Well, its past goodnight time here now. Tomorrow I have an interview with a Spanish language institution here in Buenos Aires. Also, I might find out if I am getting the internship in Barcelona or not. Like Jaime has told me, and I have now learned. It's stupid to think about all the million possible outcomes all the time, think about now, think about opportunities when they became realities. Think about what you're gonna choose when you have a choice to make (meaning don't stress over saying yes or no to something you don't even know if you will be able to say or no to). Logic. Well, anyone who knows me well, also knows that I am not logic most of the times.

Well, we cross our fingers for...? I have no clue. Everything. Tomorrow is supposed to be stormy (I love storms), and we are going to have an exciting day. Also I believe I am meeting with Olivia Linderoth (an old friend from that little town I was describing called Brokind) at night. The world is small, and also the biggest thing ever ever ever.

Papi, and Fredde. Leaving them was hard. But I know I will see them soon again, and in the meantime Pappa you're gonna have to stand it when I call you too often.

Saralie Sernhede, introducing you one of my best friends. Who I drank too much Sangria with in Barcelona before taking off to Buenos Aires. Saralie is a rock'n roll'er. Luckily we became roommates, and shared bedroom for two years. Can you get closer than that? No. She knows everything, but don't ask her because she would never tell. Saralie is the queen, and I know some day she's gonna change this world more than she already did.

How is it possible that after aaaaall these flights I still do it. I cry, and reach out to my fellow human friends who are sitting next to me begging for comfort. Will we live? Are we going to arrive? Oh my God, oh God.

All these pictures are from one week back in the end of November, 2016. I moved to Argentina for an unknown period of time. I thought I was going to be a piece of cake but it wasn't exactly just cake all the time. It was also other things, which I know I will learn from. AND I got to see Jaime again.


Beso

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