Argentina on My Mind

Today I am still in Palm Springs, now hold up in a backyard casita, trying to stay safe. Think studio apartment but a very nice one. I’m lucky and grateful to be so blessed. I have access to a lovely backyard with pool here in the desert and just spent an hour sitting outside as the sun lifted higher and higher into the sky and warmed my chilly morning bones. This is my morning prayer time. It now takes a full hour to get through all the prayers I need to lift in these days, double the time I needed three weeks ago. Today all my Argentina people came onto my list. Out of curiosity, I counted17 in all. I miss them, some more than others of course, but I miss them. One at a time over five different trips, they welcomed me, lifted me up, embraced me with their open Argentinian arms and hearts and took me into their lives; took me to backyard family asados, some going on for whole afternoons and half the evening. They took me to visit their families–to their mothers’ and uncles’ homes. There I was greeted, embraced, celebrated and fed very, very well. They pulled out their hidden stash of homemade wines and spirits to go with the roasted fatted lamb and piles of homemade empanadas. They let down their hair and told me stories and laughed freely with me. They made an asado right there on the small apartment floor using a portable barbecue because the rain was pouring outside. They bought ten times the meat we needed because they wanted to treat me like the beloved one they’d made me into. They took me to the countryside on the back of their motorcycle and gave me a holiday with friends and amazing homemade pizza baked on the asado grill. They joined me on my birthday and took me dancing, unlocking a crucial secret about our beloved dance: even the professionals dance their own, unique dance. They kept me out all night and rode me home on the motor through the streets of Buenos Aires as the sun began to come up once more. They confided in me and invited my council. They let me know that riding on their motor was a privilege reserved for precious few. They opened their homes, created space for me, sheltered and fed me, washed my clothes, took me along with them to their classes where they invited me to share and made me a part of the family, a part of their lives, a part of their country, which is now my country. How I miss you, my beloved Argentina.

About tangobunny

Pastor Bunny went on sabbatical leave to Argentina July 28-November 4, 2010, funded by a pastoral renewal grant from the Lily Foundation. It was her second visit to AR. Since then she's been back three more times and toured the country. She loves the Argentine people as much as the tango and calls Argentina her other home.
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