If sleep is for the reasonable, then we’ve come a step closer to immortality. Because the fact remains that we haven´t slept much. No one here sleeps. It´s as if the idea comes from an ancient tale of unconquered kingdoms. These recent warm spring nights have taught us that if we stay dormant, lying on our backs for too long in a state of unconscious chatter, they end up treating us like aliens, still, after five months of wandering about, eyes open, throats parched, and charm on. Giving us passes and such. Taking it easy on us. Refilling everyone else´s glasses but passing up ours when the clock strikes somewhere between three and seven A.M. That´s disgraceful, and our mothers would not approve of anyone treating us as anything less than equal. Let´s make mom proud!
Time to put an extra notch at the end of our belt buckle to give us more room to indulge. To stomach the metamorphosis.
And right when we get comfortable, right when things feel normal and walking the streets with Argentine locals until the sky changes from pitch black to Six A.M. – showing its refreshed morning face to our now stale beer-filled smiling mugs becomes just another Thursday – a pair of Irish girls come to town. Challenge taken. We can do this.
I suppose they usually come in twos, but I decided to take them on in waves, one at a time, just to be sure. Luckily there was an English guy along for the ride to even things out, and mostly to help me out.
San Martin de los Andes, was the first target on the map and so we journeyed there. The foothills of the Andes Mountains. We discovered what happens when an Irish girl, an Englishman, and an American meet below the equator and hike the beginnings of the longest continental mountain range in the world. Debauchery. Poor people of San Martin de los Andes. The town is now stained with song and beer and the likes of us. The best part, and to my surprise, after having a few years of practice because I knew this moment would come to, I championed through a chug challenge and defeated the Irish girl. I repeat. I was the champion of drinking beer, quickly and with heart against someone from Ireland. We can now proudly wear this badge. I´d like to thank MVSC for those long nights of preparation. The moment came. We conquered it. We won against the Irish! The Brit, however, held strong. We were one and one. This was not surprising.
The second target on the map was Trenque Lauquen. A beautiful province of Buenos Aires. But the Irish girls pulled a wildcard and appeared together this round. I lost. The old two against one trick. They stayed up drinking in the park until 10am for two nights straight, while I was heavy-headed with distorted vision, retiring home by 6am to…sleep.
Not to worry. We´ve still got a long journey ahead, and the fight against that obnoxious Sandman has proven ineffective. We must come out of hibernation and live in the fertile wild. We´ve got a bag of seeds to set free in the wind, and so we shall. Are naivete will sleep no more. No, on the contrary we will throw our seeds of naivete towards the famished, sew it, and reap what comes about in harvest the season that follows.
Five months in Argentina, and counting… Its proving to be the encouragement we needed after all.