"I knew you were American because you smiled at me"

This is what a cute American girl from Chicago says to me on the subway. She hasn't been smiled at on the streets in eight months in BA, according to her. We are skeptical.

So we're slowly waking up this morning after staying out until 5 or 6 last night at a club, Club Araoz. By the time we got into the damn place, we were next to sober. We were absolutely the only Americans in the place. To Dylan's credit, he was pretty good about talking to people, and they were universally nice to us. As for me, I generally dislike clubs when everyone speaks English; when nobody speaks English and I'm not quite there with the Spanish yet, they become strictly exercises in bearing discomfort. There was certainly no shortage of chicas lindas, though, so maybe next weekend when we come back I'll work up a little more courage.

We also went to El Museo de Arte Decorativo yesterday, which is in a very pretty part of town near the Japanese Garden. We took a guided tour in Spanish; our tour guide was very gentle with us. Dylan and Alex claim to have understood more than 90% of what she was saying, which is about how much I usually understand from a tour guide in the US. I was probably closer to 50%, which was still pretty kickass for only having started to learn Spanish in late March.

Dinner was Italian food last night - really really good Italian food in Plaza Serrano, which is allegedly a really hip part of town in the barrio of Palermo Viejo. We tried hard to find a good bar to chill at, but all we managed to find was a 50 year old Chilean woman whom Dylan insisted on hitting on in front of her two very pretty daughters. I think we were looking for American-style bars that were super crowded with very large actual bars. What we found were places with small bars but lots of tables. Alex and Dylan refused to accept my theory that there were no American style bars, so we just kept looking and looking until we finally cabbed it over to the nightclub in Barrio Norte.

We've developed a great general schedule here. Wake up at 11. Chill at the hostel for a while, on the internet, discussing plans. Head out to do something touristy during the day, then go to one of the millions of cafes in this city at around 4 for a glass of wine or cup of coffee and lunch. Head back to the hostel around 6. Nap from 7-9. Have a drink at the hostel and talk to our fellow hostelers for a while, then dinner at 1030-11, and then whatever follows until whenever we make it back. I could get used to it.