Meet the Parents

  "So Jack, what do you know about dead bodies?" This was the kind of occasion when a year abroad comes into it's own. It was hardly the category of question that I had been faced with across my 7 years of classroom Spanish interactions. I was sat with the father of Carlos (the Dad of the family I am staying with) in the corner of a post-Baptism family celebration. He reminded me instantly of Robert De Niro's character in the Meet the Parents series. The head of the family with a fascinating history of stories to tell. He took a shine to me, and we had a really in-depth chat about his trip to London and the DNA of serial killers. But not before I mistook him for a stripper.

Honoured to be a temporary member of
this fantastic family 

*Background Information*  Ever since arriving in Argentina, I have presented myself as 'Jack' (or 'Shack' as it is now) and frequently been responded to with a jubilant cry of 'Jack El Destripador'. Primarily I assumed they meant 'Jack the Ripper'; however after experiencing some hysterical laughing with the phrase, a part of me convinced myself that 'Destripador' ('D' sounds almost silent) might mean 'Jack the Stripper'. I'd never heard of any such thing but I guessed it might be a thing here. Anyway that was what I was now going with (with a weird half-hearted stripping charade to match).

  So here I was. I presented myself as 'Shack' and the grandfather laughed as he bellowed 'Shack El Destripador', before saying that he himself used to be a 'Destripador'. I nervously chuckled a long as he already struck me as a joker and I thought he was pulling my leg. This was until he invited me to come and look at his car, in which there was a captain-like hat sitting on the dashboard - you know, the kind a stripper might wear as part of a costume. At this point I was a bit more shocked and he continued to say he did it for a bit of cash here and there. I even asked some questions (that now seem transferable between both a stripper and his actual job) and got answers. It was only when he asked me about the dead bodies that I realised that 'destripador' does in fact mean somebody who deals with dead bodies (and 'Ripper') and not 'stripper'.

 Complete and utter 'vergüenza'.

 I was on the first leg of a big trip to see the extended family of the fantastic Martinez family that I am staying with until the end of my time in Argentina (recently confirmed, very happy). We travelled a good number of hours towards the coast in the south of the Buenos Aires province. We went to the baptism of the youngest addition to the 9 cousins of that side of the family, and I witnessed the priest give a fist pump handshake to a number of the younger attendees. 2016 ey. I was honoured to be invited though and the celebration afterwards was filled with good food and interesting conversation' but nothing compared to the chat me and my man De Niro the 'non-stripper' had.

  We then travelled further south to see the family of Taty (the mum of the Martinez family). Once again I was greeted with a buzz of interest and kindness, and I felt as if they were my own family. This especially warm and welcoming nature was a trend among the Argentineans that I had been lucky enough to meet and I would probably regard it as my favourite aspect of this country.

Livin the dream

  On Sunday we went to the coast and to the family's cozy home by the sea. On opening the garage I immediately saw something that made my eyes light up - a quadbike. What was even better was the moment I realised that the quadbike was coming to the beach with us. The Bucket List instinct started pulsing and I saw the opportunity to tick off another wish. The beach was rasping, wide and largely vacant which made for the perfect conditions for quad-biking (to the untrained eye anyway).

  After a journey riding passenger with Taty, it was my turn and I thoroughly en
joyed taking it for a spin on the empty sands. I obviously did okay because I was given the responsibility of driving it back to the home... on the road. I was suddenly hit by my Mum's words before my 2013 trip to Malia - don't ride a quadbike. I figured it was long enough for that warning's expiry date to pass and I took to the Argentinean roads for the first time on the quadbike. Bar a stall on a red light at a crossroads (more vergüenza) I managed it and I felt like a badass.

  To Ride a Quadbike - Tick.

Potential for my first album cover

  Before leaving the seaside town I was treated to another unexpected surprise. I went with Maxi (Taty's 23 year old brother) to see one
of his friends, and this ended up with a ride in a vintage Jeep along the beach. I sat in the back old-school style and had the perfect view as the sunset behind the beautiful beachy horizon. It was another one of those moments where I reflected on how lucky I was to be here and just how f***ing awesome a time I was having.

Riding the quadbike with my hermano
Tomi

  The bonus of meeting the 23 year old Maxi was having the opportunity to go out, and that we did, but with a bit of a twist. The plan was to go to a karaoke bar, and judging by how I was greeted by all of his friends - "Vas a cantar!" - it seemed like I was put forward to sing. I was told it was a small bar so it was all chill, and a good number of Fernet and Cokes at pre-drinks prepared me nicely. Yet when we arrived I was greeted by a packed bar of about 300 people and an MC that would have fitted into 8 Mile nicely.

Booze, karaoke and new friends =
A top night 

  I was quickly dragged up to the front and introduced as a foreigner which caused a raucous response to be fair. I was given New York, New York by Frank Sinatra (which I don't know that well) and I staggered my way through it. As with many karaoke nights the response was hysterical regardless of the quality of the performance and I loved it. I even stayed up to duet a Spanish song afterwards with one of Maxi's friends. I got some free beers out of it and some female 'fans' even asked for a picture and my theory that I could replace Zayn Malik in One Direction grew only stronger.

  This topped off what had been a really enjoyable bank holiday weekend. I had met almost all of the extended family of the Martinez family, made new friends and contacts in a new area of the country, ticked off a bucket list wish and even gained a new fanbase in Tres Arroyos. It was great to be welcomed into the family in such a warm manner and once again it's worth giving credit to these fantastic people, I have nothing but respect for them.

Thanks for reading!