I don´t know what´s wrong with me. I have cried twice in the past two days. More than I´ve cried in the past two years! I just don´t cry. I don´t cry at girlie movies. And generally if I do cry, I have the good grace to do it in the comfort of my own space. And it´s over good stuff. Not the rubbish that I have been crying over. Frankly I´m disappointed in myself. I always saw myself as the great intrepid traveller, the brave adventurer, but apparently my tear ducts think otherwise.
First was at the airport. AT THE AIRPORT for god´s sake. I hadn´t even given myself time to GET culture shock. I cried out of pure frustration of not being able to get coins (did I tell you that Argentina was in a coin crisis and no one parts with their coins?) and therefore the inability to leave the airport. Finally this guy I met (kiwi guy) took pity on me and went and talked strongly to the shop keeper. He came back with two shiny coins and was my new hero.
I put it down to tiredness, hunger, jet lag and all those other convenient excuses, but frankly I was disgusted with myself. I did not want to cry. I was frustrated, sure, but it wasn´t that bad. To be fair to my tear ducts, this is not something new. They have always done this on occasion (like when my English teacher growled at me when I was 13, or when I was being told that I wasn´t qualified for a job that I knew perfectly well I wasn´t qualified for). They defy the way my brain is feeling, and just do their own thing. Just not this frequently. It is an embarassing thing as well, because it makes you look weak willed.
Take today for example. I was walking to a Spanish lesson. Well I was hobbling like an old woman as I had walked 7 hours around the city the day before and both my hips had given out. The receptionist had said that it was ¨very near¨and so being the stubborn and independent person that I am, I didn´t ask for directions. I had a map. I knew exactly where I was going. And I did. Except when I got to the correct street, I was at 300 and I needed 2181. Thinking that I must have gotten it wrong I went down to 218, as I was thinking 2181 can´t be right. When 218 turned up with a bunch of derelict buildings, I realised that it really was 2181. At this point I had been walking for over an hour, and I was in absolute agony. With over 15 blocks to go until her house, I decided to call it quits and go back to the hostel. I could have taken a taxi but at this early stage in the game, I am too worried about getting shafted by the driver. So I hobbled back.
I got back to the reception, and when asked ¨what happened¨ as Carla the teacher had been ringing to find out where I was, I promptly burst into tears (there go those mutinous tear ducts again). Thinking I had been robbed, or something of that nature, she got very very worried. When I finally was able to speak again, I explained that nothing was wrong, I was just frustrated at not being able to reach the house and in a lot of pain. She was relieved that I was ok, but I was mortified at my reaction. Why on earth was I reacting this way? I´ve always thought of myself as a fairly calm person, but I have been sensitive all my life. I wanted to scream out ït´s not my fault. I´m fine! It´s my evil tear ducts¨ but this just caused another bout of crying.
I´m fine. Really I am. I am slowly getting used to a very different culture and meeting some wonderful people. I´m sure by the time I leave I´ll be so used to things, that I won´t want to leave. Anyway, for the now the tear ducts are sated, but who knows when they´ll strike next...
