I met two important people in Buenos Aires. Maria y Rudulpho. Maria was sitting on the side of a large pedestrian street in Buenos Aires, Florida Street (calle Florida) with her sister Tamana. In the past year I have kicked myself many times for walking away from a face that I so desperately wanted, so desperately NEEDED a photo of and just didn't have the nerve to try. I've cowered my way through countries all over the world. It was either the perpetual wear and tear of the emotions that comes with traveling in groups or the unwanted responsibility of punishing myself for another missed opportunity but I resolved to never walk away again and made my companions wait for me as I dug out some small bills and approached the two. My spanish is relatively good for ordering food and most casual conversations (especially with friends) in light of the fact that in Buenos Aires I celebrated the close of my first month ever of formal spanish lessons. Hopefully this next month with prove as fruitful as the first. Tamana was older, I forget her age, and a little less interested in me as a person. She did warm up but Maria, who's dirty feet and pretty pink dress caught my eye in the first place wasted no time to alert me to the fact that she was two, and her name was Maria... and she was two... "como este." ("this many.") I've struggled with my desire to continue taking photographs lately, discouraged for many reasons including but not limited to: my fatigue of marketing shots and photos that are really good, but useless to me in regards to art and expression. My favorite thing to take pictures of is interesting people, and one of my favorite parts of taking pictures of interesting people is showing them the pictures I take. Especially with Maria because it was like a game for her which made it even more gratifying to me. I reviewed my photos as I walked away reluctantly and saw the shots and instantly denounced my waning and decided that if I got no more good photos the rest of my time in Buenos Aires, I was satisfied.
I did get another good shot. Equally as gratifying but chronologically it came later so there is a natural order of favoritism. On our last day in BA we were finally granted free time and naturally Kara and I used it to go find the bohemian craft Market (...what? don't act surprised... isn't that the point of traveling? tranquilo bohemians selling things?) Sundays are nice in South America because on Sundays, even in the big cities, you can find some amount of solitude and peace. We were walking down a street near the Pink House (not the White house, the pink house) that two days before was crowded with tourists and locals alike but this day was almost deserted. Side note: I have a severe infatuation with beards. The crazier the better. We're talking Zach Smith to Z.Z. top- I don't discriminate... and old men... old men are really cool to take pictures of... especially with messy hair and beards.
aahumm.. anyway...
There was a man. He had a beard. He was just sitting. He was dirty but he wasn't begging but I walked by and I said to Kara (again... always) "DID YOU SEE HIS BEARD?! he was so cool... I wanna take a picture. I should take a picture." But this time I did. We conversed and as I walked away I dug in my mochila to see what bills I had... the smallest one I had was bigger than I was seeking but it wasn't much still so I ran back and gave it to him and told him I forgot to get his name. The man never smiled the duration of the 5 minutes spent from beginning to end when we walked away, but his surprise at the money and gratitude was all over his person. Rudolpho, the man in the maroon shirt and the dirty hands.
my redemption cost me ten bucks.
Buenos Aires estuvio mi muerte... pero estuvio mi salvacion.
Two pictures. that's all I have for you.
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