As
I waited at Gualeguay bus terminal the view was sub-optimal to say the least.
The area was scattered with a variety of the 101 Dalmations extras that roam
the streets of Argentina. One was lying-down looking as though it may never get
up again. One scratched the persistent fleas from it’s mangy hair. Another did
a piss against a bin. It was hardly the glamorous send-off that one might have
expected. I mean I did appear on local TV a matter of weeks ago for a grand
total of 3 minutes, where were the paparazzi and adoring fans? Judging by the looks
of other passengers towards me, I was less David Beckham and more Katie
Hopkins.
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| Gualeguay in all it's glory |
Despite the modest farewell, it didn’t distain my mind-set and my admiration
for this little town. I had loved every second of my month in Gualeguay and I
was touched by a tint of sadness that my time here had come to an end. I
remember being shown the location of my first placement and being (wrongly) disappointed.
A remote town three hours north of Buenos Aires that required a fair amount of
zooming on Google Maps before the name popped up. My journey from Buenos Aires
consisted of 3 hours of grey wetlands, it looked like I was entering an apocalyptic
zone, but how wrong I was.
Residents of Gualeguay will complain almost instantly that you are in
one of the most boring towns in Argentina, but for me it charmed its way out of
that judgment. Anyway, who doesn’t moan about their hometown, I do the same
with Hitchin all the time, yet I reckon an Argentinean would enjoy a trip to
leafy Hertfordshire.
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| What do you get when you put 7 English teachers together? Booze, Pizza and Banter I don't understand. |
Gualeguay
is known as La Ciudad de la Cordialidad (The Friendly Town) and never has the cheesy association of an adjective
with a town been so appropriate. Until the looks of slight distain from my
fellow bus passengers, I had received nothing but smiles and kindness since
arriving. This could have been part of the moderate fame that I experienced in
my time there. I wasn’t an alien, but the presence of an English guy like
myself in such a modest town was seen as a special luxury. If I even start to
claim it was annoying I’m lying, who doesn’t love a bit of attention?
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| JackGShore King nightclub appearance with some students. |
This climaxed in one of my favourite Gualeguay hotpots – the nightclub ‘King’.
The combination of Cumbia, Vodka + Speed (Red Bull) and the presence of pretty
much every student I had from the ages of 13 (yup) upwards made for quite a
niche experience. This was enhanced by the frequent taps on the back by
teenagers asking for photos. Saturday mornings were often greeted by nasty
fernet (type of booze here) hangovers and a scattering of my face on Instagram
accounts of people I’d never (knowingly) met. Yet alas once again who doesn’t
love a bit of attention..
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| Mi Familia de Argentina |
However, at the end of the day what made my experience in Gualeguay as
good as it has been was the Rodriguez family. Lucio and Sandra along with their
fantastic kids: Camila (19), Valentina (14) and Lucas (10) could not have been
more welcoming and I’m still shocked as to how I felt like a member of the
family so quickly. It’s only a testament to the kind of people they are and I
will be forever grateful for their hospitality. This also stretches out to
their wider family (tios, primos y abuelos) who it was a pleasure to meet and
were nothing but warm to me! If the attraction of a night at King isn’t enough
of a reason to return to Gualeguay, to be part of the Rodriguez family once
more definitely does the job. Muchas gracias por todo familia!
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| They even accepted me into their pick-up truck club. |
Now I move onto
Campana and the integration and cultural immersion starts all over again. If it’s half of the
experience I had in Gualeguay then I’m in for treat, but whatever happens my
time here thus far has already more than justified my decision to come to
Argentina. For that I thank everyone I met in Gualeguay and more than anything
the Rodriguez family. I’ll be back soon!
My new home will be in Los Cardales, 50 minutes north
of Buenos Aires and the big city. The dream of going to La Bombonera (home of Boca Juniors) edges closer and I may actually
encounter another English person for the first time in a while. Saying that, I’ve
just ignored a bus stop that may very well have been that of Campana. They
really need to start announcing stuff here…
Thanks for reading.
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