An empanada counts to 12.

Even while living in another country, grocery shopping can lose its appeal and there are days when you just don’t feel like making dinner.  I rode into the town centre to a pizza and empanada restaurant and ordered 12 empanadas.  Initially, I was just going to have ten but they lady behind the counter told me that it’s cheaper to by the dozen.  The “dozen” is an interesting concept how it has stayed strong for so many years.  Funny how the bakers got it wrong, which is embarrassing for them because even a chicken can count out a dozen.  

Most empanada shops have empanadas on display ready to be reheated but this restaurant makes them fresh to order.  I was going to wait for the empanadas to be made but I was asked if I wanted delivery.  I felt my Scrooge McDuck muscles tighten around my purse strings. 

Would you like delivery.

How much for delivery?

            For what?

Delivery.

            Delivery?

For delivery.

            Oh, delivery.  I thought you said delivery.

I said it exactly the same way you did.   Delivery.

            No.  You’re saying delivery, it’s delivery.

How much is it?

            Free.

Really?

is that delivery with a v or a b?

Delivery was organised and I rode home.  Ten minutes later the doorbell rang and a dozen empanadas entered our home.  They were so tasty I wish a baker had counted them out.

A case of mañana-itis

Three simple jobs became a test of endurance today as I was told mañana, mañana and mañana once more.  Talluah paid for her clinic visit on Friday night but they didn’t give her a receipt for some reason.  Equally confusing was that the X-ray clinic let her leave without paying.  I returned today, paid for the X-ray and through a confusing conversation I was told that I couldn’t have a receipt because the doctor wasn’t in.  I tried to explain that I didn’t need the doctor and the receptionist could just type it in her computer and print it.  Several people in the waiting room laughed at this idea.

I have troubles remembering the word for receipt and as I was miming and fumbling for it the receptionist fed me the word receta. It sounded right so I started using it.  She told me I had to come back tomorrow.  I went next door to the clinic and explained that Talluah was there on Friday and I was there to pick up the receta.  More confused looks ensued.  The receptionist picked up a pad and explained that it was a receta and what I was after was a factura.  She gave me a receipt.  I was completely confused.  Factura is the same word for a treat you buy at the bakery.

Once home and after doing some research on Google translate I learnt the following things: receta = prescription.  No wonder they laughed at the idea of me asking a receptionist to print a prescription.  Factura = bill/invoice and also a yummy treat like a Danish.

Talluah has been waiting for books from Australia for her course and found out this week that they have been held in customs since the 8^th of March.  How long does it take to search a book to see if we are smuggling in dangerous goods?  Is this taking reading between the lines to a whole new level?  Today Talluah received a telegram saying that the books need to be picked up by someone with a DNI – an Argentine person with a National Identity Number.  DNIs are used for everything from signing credit card slips at the shops, purchasing from online stores within Argentina, to booking bus tickets.  We have been doing some hasty research about posting parcels to Argentina and the message from many forums is don’t do it.  The import tax and list of items that can be taxed seems to change on a regular basis.  We have a 10 kg box of winter clothes in Australia that we had planned to post over to ourselves but now we’re not so sure how to go about it.  Perhaps we could knit some warm winter clothes from spare red tape.

Ghost train.

There are many great buildings in 9 de Julio that would be fantastic if converted into hotels.  The railway station, which aligns with the town centre some 1500 metres away, is one of these buildings.  It stands two storeys high and spreads its enormous wings with nine double doors each with their own purpose.  One for the Jefe (boss) and another was used as a waiting room for senoras. 

Trucks and buses have replaced the need for regular trains to pass through 9 de Julio and as far as we can deduce there is a train about once a week.  It must be for cargo as there is a handwritten sign on a black board that says passenger trains have been cancelled.  The infrastructure is still in place to load carriages full of maize but these tracks are covered in so much dirt and grass that it must have been some time since a train used the side tracks.

Talluah has seen a dramatic improvement in her wrist after her fall on Friday.  While she still can’t grasp things, fortunately she is in a lot less pain. 

Eat your heart out Evil Knievel

The heat wave has gone and autumn has begun autumning.  We’ve gone from considering buying a fan to having jumpers ready at the door.  The kids have to be waiting at the corner by 7:40 to be picked up for school and every morning they’ve needed an extra layer.  As the temperature drops and rain falls about twice a week, we now have to be more selective of when we wash our clothes and how we dry them.  Talluah and I set out for the discount store on our bikes to buy a clothes horse con alas (with wings) and a laundry basket.  I opted for the clothes horse with its plastic wrapper and Talluah carried the laundry basket.  On the way home Talluah tried to go up a foot path and was thrown from the bike.  She rolled in true commando style and jumped straight back onto the horse with a very sore wrist.

Several hours later she calmly announced that she might have broken her wrist.  With bikes as our only form of transport she messaged Rosario, who just happened to be in Buenos Aires.  Next was Luli, the primary school principal.  Luli appeared on our doorstep and a minute later Juan, Rosario’s husband, was also here ready to take Talluah to the clinic.  Luli won the coin toss and whisked Talluah away to see a doctor.  The doctor told Luli she can’t be in the X-ray room but Luli said she was there to help translate.  The doctor said to Talluah in English, ”Sit,” and pointed to a chair.   Some people are always right.  However, this doesn’t explain why Talluah’s name was spelt Taullh on the X-ray.

Luckily nothing was broken but the doctor told Talluah she has tendonitis and needs to keep it immobilised until the pain subsides.