12: "Dinners with Élo: Part 2"

I sent an e-mail to Élo after I got back from my trip north, just before the new semester was starting.

I asked if she was staying in Paraná.

A few days went by. No word. I told Daniel I thought, maybe, she’d split and gone away with her boyfriend.

She wrote back, saying she was still in town, and that her friend was visiting, and that we should go canoeing on the river sometime soon. I said we should make dinner and make plans.

I went over to her apartment Tuesday night. She lives on the first floor of a rehabbed colonial building. Her tall and narrow front windows open to street. You could stick your head in from the sidewalk, if you wanted. The first floor’s got the kitchen and a living room. There are maps of France and Torres del Paine and Bariloche on the wall. The bedrooms and the bathroom are on the second floor, up a spiral staircase.

Mónica was over, one of her students from the French department. Eva was there, too, her friend from France. Her roommate Martin was upstairs studying.

Eva´s from Lyon. She speaks a little Spanish and no English, so Mónica and Élo were going back and forth to French, telling her what we were talking about.

Eva had just quit a job in a bronze workshop. The job was too heavy – the fumes and the dust and the noise. She’s going back to school after this trip, to study art therapy.

This was her first long trip. She’d visited Spain, England, Switzerland, but never anything far away, nor more than a few days. She was spending three weeks in South America.

Élo had gone to Peru for the break. She took a bus from Paraná to Lima – 40 hours direct. She had an awful headache when she got into the capital. The bus had gone from sea-level to 10,000 feet without stopping.

Her and her boyfriend and some others hiked through the jungle and visited Machu Picchu and were in Lima during a big public holiday. She said they got three bottles of rum and three bottles of Coke for just a few dollars. They drink hard in Peru, she said. The hangover’s awful when you’re that high up.

She went to Lake Titicaca in Bolivia. Said it looks like the ocean. Water to the horizon. You can’t see Peru on the far side.

Martin came downstairs.

He’s at the end of his university work. He’s passed all the classes and just has to finish his thesis to graduate. He studies bioengineering at the national university. He said, ideally, he’d like to work in hospital administration, in managing technology. But he said the government’s not giving enough money and support for medical development and it’s hard to get jobs like that if you don’t know the right person.

Élo was frying broccoli and onions and carrots and garlic in a wok. She grated nuez moscada – a walnut that smells like ginger – into it. Potatoes were boiling in a pot. She was going to soften the potatoes, split them down the middle, stuff the fried vegetables into them, sprinkle cheese on top, bake it all in the oven.

Martin was serving cold leftover asado, putting a bite of beef on a fork and passing it to the table, taking back the empty fork, sticking on more and passing it back.

He said he’s hyper-carnivorous. That and he loves sleeping the siesta.

We were drinking beer and Coke Light and listening to Marvin Gaye and smoking cigarettes. Élo doesn’t smoke. Neither do I. We say.

It was a warm night. The front window was wide open and Élo and Eva were in short sleeves. Martin said it’s unusual to be so warm this time of year – the equivalent of February in the north.

Dinner was served and we ate, sprinkling oil and salt and crushed peppers onto the potatoes.

Mónica told me she’d spent a year in France as a language assistant.

Her and Élo got into an argument about the price of things in France and Argentina, that you could buy four bottles of beer and a bottle of coke and vegetables, in Argentina, for the same price as just a couple bottles of beer in Europe. Mónica was saying that but, in nominal terms, 1000 pesos would be worth a lot less than 1000 Euros. Élo and I looked at each other. I said it’s a question of purchasing power. Martin agreed.

We got to talking about clothes. Élo said sometimes she uses the microwave to dry her underwear. As long as there’s nothing synthetic in them, you can put them in, five seconds, whatever, and they’re dry and warm and nice to slip on right there. It’s good at hostels, if they have a microwave, instead of hanging your clothes on the line and waiting all afternoon for it to dry.

We finished up. Another helping of potatoes was served. Eva made coffee on the stove. We talked about canoeing on the weekend. Mónica said it’s better to go with a guide. The currents on the river can be strong and unreliable and hard to navigate. Élo said, Saturday night, no drinking, just a movie and Coke and early to bed. She didn’t want to be hung over Sunday, canoeing.

Martin went upstairs to bed. Mónica got up to go. She invited us to a movie night at the Catalan cultural center. She speaks Catalan and is a member of the center and said there’d be short films and food and a couple other things.

Élo poured me an aperitif that Eva had brought with her. It was strong with anise. Élo mixed it with water and I drank it and we got up to go. They needed cigarettes. I was going home to keep working on my website.

Élo poured the aperitif into an empty Coke bottle, mixed in water, put the cap on, and carried it out. Her and Eva were going to the river with the bottle and the cigarettes. Élo said she hardly ever goes out this time of night. It was 11:30. We kissed goodbye and said we’d be in touch for the weekend.