Is that a creepy title for a blog post? It reminds me of this song by The Cranberries.
The point, though, is that I’ve now met two. Lingerers, that is. Here, in Buenos Aires. Two people, a man and a woman, both roughly my age.
Both came to Buenos Aires and decided not to leave.
One, my friend Kari Paul, came here last spring, with the Missouri School of Journalism’s study abroad program. The program ended in early May, but she’s still here — she spontaneously canceled her flight home and found housing on a moment’s notice. I had dinner with her the other night at a cozy Argentinian restaurant called Cumaná. Over piping pumpkin empanadas and hot stews, I asked her why.
“I just love it here” was her answer. “It’s impossible to know the city and not like it.” Her enthusiasm was evident as she scribbled out a long list of must-dos/sees in Buenos Aires. Riddled with stars and arrows, the list, bequeathed to me outside the restaurant, is on my bedside table, waiting to be used.
The other I met at a bar. El Alamo bar, to be exact. He’s a bartender there and his name is Tim.
Tim is from my hometown: The Woodlands, Texas. Imagine my shock as we narrowed down locations first to the U.S., then to Texas, Houston, The Woodlands. He lives down my street, in fact.
He came to Buenos Aires two years ago after graduating from Oak Ridge High School, got a job at El Alamo, and never looked back. He wants to go back to the states for college… eventually. He stayed because he, like Kari, fell in love. With Buenos Aires, its culture, its people, and his job.
These two lingerers baffled me. A very homesick me wondered how they could possibly live here longer than intended, how they could stand to miss their family, friends, and chunky Jif peanut butter for more time than strictly necessary.
But they truly, earnestly love it here. Maybe if I take to heart Tim’s encouragement, if I follow Kari’s list with its stars and squiggles, I’ll find out why.