Unlucky paint brush

I left Cordoba, Argentina, looking like a mix between the Michelin man and the Ninja Turtle.
The Michelin Man look was created by wearing all the layers I could possibly can, to protect me from the freezing bus journey ahead (it didn't work). The Turtle look is easy to achieve: I just need to wear my huge rucksack. I added the word "ninja" because I'm so pissed off for wearing all these layers and carry this huge weight that I could easily attack, ninja style, anyone crossing my path. I'm not sure how I could attempt any moves, let alone ninja style, as I can barely turn my little head right and left. But trust me, I'll try.
So I arrived in Posadas looking like I had arrived from Syberia, except it felt like I had arrived in Mozambique. It was HOT. After a short walk between the bus and the taxi my layers had created a sort of "green house effect". No more water retention, then. The excess fluids built in weeks managed to escape. This was clearly visible in my crotch area. It appears that the Michelin Man just pissed himself.

In Posadas there are only 2 hostels. One has hundreds of negative online reviews. the other has no reviews at all. I opted for the second. At least once in my life time I can then say "I was the first".
The hostel proved difficult to find. The taxi driver had no idea it even existed. I would have liked to help him find his way around, but I was too busy drying my wet crotch.
Once I (him) found the hostel, I understood why it had no reviews: it wasn't even finished yet!
 I had the impulse of offering the owner my help to paint and decorate and speed up the process, (maybe in exchange of a few chicken empanadas) then I thought: "fuck him! I have to pay full price for something so clearly unfinished? He can do the painting himself and stuck the brush up his ass when he's done". This, I regret thinking, because he was a nice man and he did not deserve a brush up his ass.
I'm the third person who ever stayed at this hostel. I wonder whether the first two were midgets who spent the night in the paint jars as it's impossible that normal people would sleep on beds still wrapped in their own plastic. Unless they're into bondage, of course.

I couldn't look more like a tourist if I tried. Flip flops? Tick. Camera visible? Tick. Map in hand? Tick. I might as well write "ROB ME" all over my forehead and have it over and done with.
The map....the map I was given by the hostel owner has no street names on it. It just shows a labyrinth of nameless roads. I can't read maps in the best of time, but this is a joke. Maybe the hostel owner is pshychic. he read my thoughts about the paint brush up his anus and he gave me a fake map to make fun of me.

I stayed an extra night in the unfinished hostel. Just for the challenge. And for the joy of the gang of mosquitoes which had been waiting for so long to feed. According to the state of my arm, they're done for the season.
Since I don't have much to do here in Posadas (except for making sure the mosquitoes create future generations of equally violent mosquitoes), I decided to help the hostel owner to have a successful business.
The dude has no idea. It never occurred to him that 6 people sharing a room might need 6 lockers. Or 6 tiny shelves. Or even one single hook to hang 6 coats (or hung themselves out of desperation). It never occured to him that a room might need a small paper bin (do travellers swallow their own rubbish or what?) or a curtain for the window (never heard of hangovers?). It never occured to him that 12 beds should not be placed in a room that can barely fit 2. ("I have an idea for a new name for this hostel: Auschwitz Hostel", I said, but he thought it sounded too German).
He told me with great pride that the next reservation is for a group of seven British. As soon as the words "British" and "7" clicked in my brain, my eyes automatically turned to the booze cabinet, left unattended and easy to reach. I suggested he´d put a lock on it. "Wow, you're just so clever", he said. No, no, it's you being stupid. You obviously never got drunk at a hostel with a bunch of random people before, either.

It took me exactly one month to feel relaxed and start being myself around people. In the beginning of my travels I used to measure my words, worrying to offend with  my bluntness. Now, I pole dance around Argentinian flag poles, I tell people I don't want another empanada because they give me diarrhoea and I have already shared some of my anecdotes which have left people (the one who didn't leave the room) rather disturbed.
Not many people get me, but this is the price I happily pay for being so wonderfully unique (although not modest, but nobody's perfect).

I took a taxi to get to the bus terminal. As I got off the taxi a young man opened the door for me.
 "Gracias". I said. "2 pesos, por favor", he replied. My outrage was senses by the stray dogs that immediately fleed the scene. 2 pesos for what? To open I door I had already half opened myself?! So I looked him in the eyes and said: "Dos pesos?! Estas loco?! (two pesos?! Are you insane?!). I expected a little resistance. I expected a little argument, but his reaction left me speechless: he just laughed and gave me the most amazing and warm smile! I guessed:

A) He never witnessed the outrage of a Michelin Man/Ninja Turtle and found it utterly amusing
B) What I said actually translated into " I won't give you two pesos, but I will suck your smelly toes"
C) He wanted to show off his gold teeth
D) Even HE recognized the absurdity of his request and was laughing at his own audacity.

I gave him nothing, of course. But I was grateful because this event put me in a great mood.

I am in Salta, my last stop in Argentina before moving on to Bolivia. The trip to get here lasted 25 hours.
I usually don't mind long bus journeys, but I'm often a little cross because it is not allowed to poo on buses (and they tell you so quite openly).So I took revenge for not being able to poo for an entire day and stole their blanket. I thought this would be fairer than poo in a bag and leave it on my seat.
 I am a lady after all.

1 gone, 4 to go.

I overestimated my linguistic abilities. Learning Spanish is hard, especially when you're sober. As much as I make myself understood, to my ears I still sound like a retarded parrot with speech problems.
In my world, there is no past nor present as I don't know how all these tenses work. Everything I say, is the present. Right here! Right now!. "I AM tired because I AM on the bus for 12 hours, yesterday". "No, sweetie, you're not on a bus, you're at a hostel. Have you taken any illegal substances?!".

Luckily, I can rely on the help of the Lonely Planet phrasebook. Here's some bizarre (and useless) sentences from the 2012 edition (and my answer to those).....

"The bathroom door is locked"
(well, someone must be taking a shit, leave them alone!)

"Do you mind if I breastfeed here?)
(what do you think? You're in a queue in a bloody supermarket, woman!)

"My travel buddy is blind"
(So? Leave him behind)

"I don't take drugs"
(you loser)

"I don't mind watching, but I'd rather not join in"
(For real? And what's the point?)

"It's not you, it's me"
(great, I can now bullshit men in South America, too)

"I'd like to explore wrecks"
(then buy a mirror)

And the winner of 2012 is.....

"I wouldn't go out with you if you were the last man on Earth".
(come on! No need to be so harsh, a simple "no" will do! Besides, how weird would it be, not to be able to say a sentence in Spanish without sounding mentally challenged, yet come out with such an elaborate answer! I don't think it would work, so if anybody asks me out I make my life easier and just say "SI!")

I see gay people. I mean, I see them everywhere. I convinced myself that 95% of the male population in Cordoba is gay. They just don't know it yet.
In UK I know many men who barely brush their teeth in the morning. In Cordoba, men get up in the morning and they look ready for a photoshoot for Dolce and Gabbana.
Also, their eyelashes are too thick and long. I don't trust men whose eyelashes are longer than mine.
Men in Cordoba smell nice. Really nice. I'm sure it's because they want to confuse women and make the believe they're straight.
 In Uk, men smell of booze. I'm sure it's because they want to confuse women and make them believe they're gonna buy them a drink.

I have been away from home for a month. An entire month! I learned so much in a month.
I learned that it's worth investing extra money in soft toilet paper.
I learned that I'm one of the most accomodating, caring and nurturing people I know. No backpacker will ever share a room with me without being fed, listened to or comforted if needed.
I learned the soothing power of hugging people, even if they are strangers. It's totally acceptable, here.
In a month, I virtually hugged everyone: from the man who gave me directions to the transgender who sold me a pie. And each time, I feel like there is a flower blossoming in my heart. I want to create a huge garden!
I learned that whoever said that men stink and women don't,  has never spent a night in a female dorm.
I learned that you should never take small things for granted. Next time you drink a nice cup of tea from your favourite mug, or dry yourself with a soft towel that smells like sunshine or when you crap in your own toilet....cherish the moment!!
And, of course, the most important thing I learned.....everything is possible. You just need to move your ass and make it happen.