got to be a BA to handle BsAs

Bumper bowling myself down Avenida Santa Fe, I am sure I look like a bewildered, lost child.  Tattered hair, jersey dress and all.  My face quickly moves from pleasantly smiling at every single human and animal I cross paths with to a slightly open mouth defeated look with the angry-brow-wrinkle in full effect.  The first days here have been exhausting.
The first major objective= shopping.  We arrive on a Thursday, perfect timing as the weekend markets start to unfold.  Friday we see Florida Ave's pure chaos with hippies set up in the middle of the walking-only street, selling random braided necklaces etc as they sip their matte gourds and begin to dream of the cheap wine buzz they will acquire if they hawk a few more pieces of merchandise.  Followed by, La Boca street fair which is in a poorer neighborhood, but has some respectful art, fantastic music and tango dancers to match- a very colorful treat!
Saturday is the fun Palermo market.  Tables are set up on top of one another, and the bars hold vendors in order for everyone to fit.  The racks of clothing are almost impossible to look at because they are bursting with mediocre merchandise.
Sunday is the Recoleta and SanTelmo fairs...
and then Monday Alex steers us to Palermo Soho, for what I understand to be the place where up and coming designers have their own boutiques.  I have never felt more foreign.  Large rooms with few racks holding very minimal amounts of clothes, that are somehow known to be very important at this very moment.
To be honest, I did not where I was at much longer than the ride to each place, be it bu or taxi or supte (subway).  Alex was the captain of this shopping ship!  Which I am thankful for, or I would have walked the plank only hours into it.  I needed to see these great markets and cute shops that Buenos Aires fames its different barrios (neighborhoods) for.  Although, other than a handful of cheap earrings, I came out pretty empty handed with only a little inspiration on the creative palette.  The markets sold a variety of things, mostly, in my opinion, different versions of crap.  There definitely were some cute shoes, clothes, jewelries, purses, etc... but also some weird figurines, bizarre prints, touristy matte gourds, and crazy apparel.

I was not sad on Tuesday when I hung up the shopping bag, so to speak.  Instead, I went to my first yoga class in weeks and loved every moment of it!  It was a   s l o w   c l a s s.  Usually, not my favorite style, but something about being in a hectic, over stimulating, busy city, made me really enjoy the tranquility of the slow movements.  The teacher brought our attention to our "wants" vs our "needs."  This is always a good reminder, especially after hours and days worth of apparel shopping!  At the end, in Savarsana (corpse pose, where you lie on your back to take a few moments to watch and let go of those thoughts that move through you fast mind) I watched the dust fall in the afternoon light... all the particles gracefully wondering in ever which way.  They were basking in the sun and being pushed around by the wind, light enough to dance on the air!  The class reminded me of what I value.  It reminded me of the universal truths I continue to try to learn.  To be simple and delicate, to move slowly with intention and grace.  To challenge myself with turning my easy life/ world upside- down... to breath during more complicated and less delightful times.

The city is fast.  It is moving, pulsing, alive.  So many people, all of them knowing- that their life is a little more important then mine.  Its hard to get a smile out of anyone.  I have completely stopped trying.  I can carry a heavy backpack, I can hold a strange yoga pose, I can run several miles in the dry heat, or handle a wind storm at some fantastically high elevation.  It can snow on me for hours and the worst customer can make me feel like shit...  I am a BadAss in the wide open spaces I find comfort in (I actually flourish in them!)  But here, I do not belong.  Pushing, dodging, weaving, honking, hawking, shaking, begging... I know, I do not belong in a city.  I need a higher dirt to concrete ratio!  I LOVE walking and wondering, but I get "stressed out!" when people are headed right for me at a fast pace, demanding me to move out of their way.  I am in check here.  I feel defeated and worked after only a few hours on the streets.  I feel exhausted and less than alive.  It is hard and I feel too soft.  I need some heeled boots, hair extensions, and some cigarettes!
Give me some prayers friends.
I am happy to be with my sister.  She can handle this all better than I can!  Maybe she will share some tips with me.  Until another few days... chao. adios. hasta luega! please dont judge my spelling! xo