Lost in the South American glory

It is funny to look back and reflect on the time I spent in Buenos Aires.

What I wish to do in the future is to go back to South America, to Argentina, to the place where I first lived without my parents. I want to go back and eat alfajores, I want to go back to markets and buy leather; I want to do everything you cannot do in restrictive boarding schools- experiencing night life, getting lost on the streets and missing appointments.

When I look back I largely remember a young me adapting to a boarding school life and an American majority of classmates, vaguely I can recall the beautiful city where one was not allowed to wear shorts shorts, wave around on precious items nor walk alone on the streets.

Seeing these photos again made me memorize the most glorious moments of my semester in Argentina; Canon cameras wrapped into plastic bags in the rainforest, shopkeeper David always handing out free croissants when buying cafe con leche, waking up to glorious mornings with the sun painting our white-buildings-only street pink, ordering taxis simply to avoid the rain on the way home, and falling asleep to the sound of thunder over and over again.

It’s crystal clear; me and South America is not a finished chapter yet.


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