I prefer werewolves… they are hotter, leaner and cutter

While in Argentina I took advantage of the fact that I have sisters… all of them engrossed in the Twilight Saga and Edward and Bella’s never-ending love story; so it didn’t require much begging from my part to go to the movies and see Eclipse, the latest release of the series.

It was my last day in Argentina after a week full of hospital visits, so a change of scenery was well deserved.

One of the perks of Buenos Aires is that everything is open late… you can have dinner at 2 am in the morning or attend the cinema at the same time; so after a succulent meal in an Spanish restaurant (you have to be Argentinean to understand the reasons that even though you’re in Argentina you decide to eat a paella instead of a barbecue) we headed for the movies.

The film started and the three of us where seated just in the middle of the theatre, with the perfect view of Jacob’s amazing six-pack, when three girls entered and, in complete darkness, where trying to find some chairs and at the same time, keeping track of what was happening on the screen.

I don’t blame them; it was rather difficult to get your eyes off that tanned skin!

At just the moment when a kiss was coming and all the audience was expectantly waiting for the scene to happen, one of the girls staggered and fell, face first, over the stairs….

That’s when the whole theatre exploded, in unison, to a laugh; and my sisters and I realized that being part of a huge family gives you the warmth and love of many persons, but at the same time, you get to stumble over your cousins in an awkward situation, where she’s looking like a spastic individual and at the same time greeting you, so no point in denying that you’re probably related!!

So much for inconspicuous places and sister’s night out… WITH a family like mine, don’t bother!!

Small gatherings don’t exist in our language and most importantly, even though Buenos Aires is huuuge, we’ve GOT this magnetism that pulls us together, no matter the time NOR the place.

Next time I’m planning a night out with my sisters, I’ll suggest we stay home… at least there; we can control who enters and who leaves the house.

Over and out!

It hit me: living far away makes people forget you

As you know, I’m from Argentina and all of my family lives there. When I say “all” of them, I want you to imagine a huge group of people, roughly 60 relatives directly connected. I’m not talking about second cousins or distant relatives; 60 blood bounded individuals who get together every weekend for barbecues and know all the family secrets that cook below the surface.

This weekend was a long holiday in Argentina, remembering the Revolution and independence… in other words, there’s always a good excuse for some little time off.

My father has this strange ability to be like a magnet to every family member in need of a Holiday place. My stepmom always has to buy groceries for 30 people, even though at first, only 12 where going; because between the moment when the decision gets made and the get-go, the phone doesn’t stop ringing and every cousin, uncle, boyfriend, husband, wife, friend wants to join the party (they’re so predictable).

I always try to call them during these oversized family reunions because with one phone call I get to talk to everybody and hear about all the family gossip that I missed because of the distance that separates us.

They climb on top of a water mill to get some signal in their cell phones, so there’s always this creepy feeling when I call, that someone is going to fall over their asses on the ground and I’m going to be held accountable. I hear the wind and how they switch hands with the phone and all the time I’m like:

Me: Are you there? (I was talking to someone but there’s another one of them in line to talk to me)
Them: it’s my turn now… Hello?
Me: Who’s this?
Them: Hi! It’s me… (No idea who that is). You’re missing so much… wait, I’m switching hand because the other one is getting cold (its winter there)…. Much better now.

And while they talk, I cannot concentrate in another thing other than the fact that they’re hanging 90 yards above the ground, on the top of a water mill!!

My father never climbs up to use his cell phone, country house for him it’s the freedom of being disconnected from the world. However, in this particular weekend, he ascended to the top and waited in line for his turn after all my siblings and cousins bombarded me with news and greetings.

It is not unknown for fathers with a brace of daughters to reel off their names in order of ease of memory when summoning the estranged one that lives abroad. I had long ago become accustomed to being: “Sofia… Dolores…Pilar… Damn it!"

This is his usual greeting for me… I got baptized with only one first name, but circumstances greeted me with the longest first name ever… can you imagine if all my big sisters where in fact brothers?

So much for self-esteem and being unique in a family nucleus… greetings from me, or her, or her.