So this is what a quiet sleep Argentinean town looks like?

I arrived in San Luis knowing very little about the town, but I had photocopied the two-pages of information that Joanna’s Lonely Planet guide to Argentina had on the city, which described it as a very quiet and peaceful town. I figured that was enough to get me started. After asking around a little bit I soon learned that finding a place to stay for the weekend was going to be difficult. It was Good Friday, and everyone in Argentina had the day off. That meant they were all currently in the process of heading to their holiday destinations, and San Luis was preparing for an influx of tourists.

But there was a new hostel in town and I figured that was right up my alley. I showed up shortly after 4 PM and it seemed nice and clean and very tranquil. That would soon change I was informed. I met Fredrico in the patio outside and we chatted for a bit before he went to take a nap. I decided to go explore the town and figure out how to get to the Parque Nacional de Los Quijadas the next day, which for me was the whole purpose of coming to San Luis.

By the time I got back to the hostel a couple hours later it was overrun by young Argentineans ready to party during the long weekend. Fredrico begain introducing me as “Kash de Seattle” I started to correct him but decided I kinda liked it. Turns out the secret to making friends in Argentina is just to make one. Once you’ve done that, you can rest assured that your new friend will introduce you to all of his friends, who in turn will introduce you to all of their friends. Within minutes drinks were being poured, insults hurled across the pool table and dinner plans were being formulated.

The group of 15 of us in the hostel at the time decided to head to a nearby parilla for a traditional Argentinean feast, which of course involves not showing up until about 10 PM. Over the last couple of weeks I’d found myself kinda of regretting the fact that almost all of the people I had been hanging out with were other “extranjeros” from across the globe. In Cuba and Colombia I had spent all of my social time with locals and I really loved being able to experience a country with a native by my side. But trying to keep up with the dinner conversation of 15 excited Argentineans while bottles of wine were being uncorked was more than a challenge. I think I’ve learned that I need to be careful of what I wish for, and I´ve also learned the limits of my spanish skills.

Dinner was fantastic. We consumed unhealthy amounts of charred animal flesh, most of which I could not identify and did not think prudent as to inquire their origin. I was kinda afraid of what the answers might be. Occasionally one of the English speakers in the group would try to explain why the entire table spontaneously burst into laughter, but I never really got it.

We got back to hostel a little after midnight and it was packed with even more Argentineans and they were ready to party. I met Charlie and Michie within a couple of minutes and we hit it off right away. My intial assessment of those two trouble makers was the Argentinean version of Beavis and Butthead, but maybe a reference to the two kids from “Y Tu Mama Tambien” would be more apt. They were utterly hilarious, incredibly generous, friendly beyond belief and absolutely completely fucking insane.

The party was in full swing by this time. After not smoking for a week and resisting all the temptation throughout dinner when cigarettes were being handed out I finally succumbed and accepted an offer. I know you all must be very disappointed, but I’m only human after all. And really it was all Michie’s fault.

The guitar was getting handed around and whenever anyone said “Kash de Seattle” the first response was always, “como Nirvana, si?” Someone must have had the “Unplugged in New York” album because they played every damn song on that CD. But it was great, people sang along loudly and beat out a rhythm on chairs and tabletops. It was so nice to know more words than anyone else. Pretty soon the tunes changed to Argentineans folk songs. Tables were danced on, boxed wine mixed with orange pop was consumed in alarming quantities and the dead were arisen.

At 3 in the morning the group waking up early to head to the national park tomorrow decided to head to bed. Unfortunately I choose to hit the boliches with the other group led by the previously mentioned insane duo. Around 5 in the morning it occurred to me that there was no way I was waking up at 6:30 to head to the excursion. But that was ok, I had a few more days in San Luis and I was sure I would get there eventually.

I keep finding that things seldom go as I planned. Quiet laidback weekends turn into all-night parties before you know what happened. Moments reserved for solitude and introspection become social disturbances within a blink of an eye. But I generally find that when my plans go completely haywire the new and unexpected bounty that I stumble upon is far more fascinating than I could have imagined, and truly a once in a lifetime experience.