So, in the biggest surprise I've had in quite some time, my best friend taps me on the shoulder outside of Greenhouse - the venue that was happy enough to host my 29th birthday party during arguably the busiest and most difficult weekened in NYC to have a party, aka Fashion Week - and says "so, is there a list or something?" What makes this a real surprise, is that he works/lives in Brasil, and had told me that he couldn't make the trip, and that I'd be seeing him the following week anyway upon my arrival in São Paulo, so I wouldn't have expected him to have made the schlep to NYC for a long weekend.
As luck would have it, he finagled his way up north for work, as his lawfirm required his assistance on some case - details spared. Indeed, it was a great surprise, and I had a genuine smile to have seen him. Our mutual friends apparently conspired to keep this little secret from me... nice work guys!
The nite was awesome, having met a bunch of 'randoms' who apparently couldn't get in to the club because they weren't on a list, we happily invited the foursome to join our table and enjoy our company - they obliged, ha! The group, we were probably 12-15 over the course of the nite, held down the fort, with our table in front of the dj booth, with noone other than Funkmaster Flex at the wheel. I am pretty sure that the last remaining peole stumbled out of there around 6/7a, with great pictures and a pet baby alligator to boot!
Happy birthday to me! What's on tap for 3-0?!
Friday, September 11, 2009
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Medellín
Having totally enjoyed myself, beyond the wildest of expectations, I knew that I was destined to head back to Colombia, and had been eyeing the Fería de Flores (festival of flowers; on a side note, exotic flowers are one of the largest exports from the country) toward the end of July/Early August - when I first learned about the festival, it seemed like a relatively beautful festival to attend in the middle of the Medellín summer; I mean, how do you go wrong with a lush city, filled with beautiful people, architecture, and exotic flowers...
Needless to say, I was then sold on the idea when I found out the festival coincided with ColombiaModa (fashion week) - so, what was there to do, other than to make my way out of the dead of winter in BA and head to the middle of the summer in Medellín... I took the opportunity to move out of my apartment in BA with Lau (it would be the last time we saw eachother, haha, j/k - she got another place and is still in BA), and set out on what would be a 'new' 6 months in the life of Adam, or as I have started to be called by my close friends, Alan (side-story: Lau's parents were in town, and I put my name down for a table a restaurant for all of us, and when the woman called 'my' name, she said "Alan" so since then, Lau & Co have called me Alan as a funny Argentine joke because noone can pronounce ADAM - here, the figure is Adán - as my D and L apparently have a similar sound when speaking Spanish).
As it turned out, a buddy of mine from high school, Paul Anderson, was going to be in Medellín as well, as he launched an import/export consulting business, and had been eyeing textiles from Latin America for importation to the US, so fashion week proved to be a good breeding ground for a potential launch of a Colombian outpost - or at the least, to meet a few groups interested in getting their fashion lines to the US. He and I had caught up beforehand to arrange a few times to get together and meet up for events, parties, etc, so it was a good chance to have a wingman in a foreign place - we each had friends in Medellín, so it was an easy pull the groups together for some joda (fun).
Having already been through Medellín, I had seen most of the cultural attractions, museums, etc, so it gave me an opportunity to explore a bit, on top of the work I was continuing for a project in Baires. It seemed a bit more like a 'real' situation to be in a place (I had rented an apartment for the 2 weeks I was there), versus living from a backpack, bouncing from place to place, as I had the previous trip. As commercially vibrant as I had remembered from the previous trip, which took place during the Inter-American Bank of Development's 50th Anniversary congregation, something about a gorgeous city, with gorgeous people, celebrating a 'local' holiday made the city jump out more - the fact that it was smack in the middle of the summer probably didn't hurt the causa.
From the desfile de caballos - a parade of sorts, whereby each of the communities in Antioquia (the Colombian region/state in which Medellín sits) bring their best show horses - decorated in representative attire, colors, and other cultural elements - and 'treats' for the two week festival, and literally shut the city down for one day, waltzing thru the streets. It is an all-out party day, everyone drinking Paisa beer and micheladas, and eating fresh grilled corn, filled arepas, and chorizo - basically, a carnival's selection of greats foods that are horrible for you.
The feel of the place was amazing, and you could just pop from tent to tent, street to street, and grassy knoll to grassy knoll, meeting new people, 'cheersing' to whatever you wanted, and enjoying the weather and the people (did I mention how good looking the women are in Medellín?)... The energy that continued thru to the evenings was electric, with the entire city seemingly partying without care for the following day - La Fería is effectively a two-week holiday, so it's no wonder the evening festivities were Aguardiente-loaded with house music pumping: in a word, chévere!
Needless to say, I was then sold on the idea when I found out the festival coincided with ColombiaModa (fashion week) - so, what was there to do, other than to make my way out of the dead of winter in BA and head to the middle of the summer in Medellín... I took the opportunity to move out of my apartment in BA with Lau (it would be the last time we saw eachother, haha, j/k - she got another place and is still in BA), and set out on what would be a 'new' 6 months in the life of Adam, or as I have started to be called by my close friends, Alan (side-story: Lau's parents were in town, and I put my name down for a table a restaurant for all of us, and when the woman called 'my' name, she said "Alan" so since then, Lau & Co have called me Alan as a funny Argentine joke because noone can pronounce ADAM - here, the figure is Adán - as my D and L apparently have a similar sound when speaking Spanish).
As it turned out, a buddy of mine from high school, Paul Anderson, was going to be in Medellín as well, as he launched an import/export consulting business, and had been eyeing textiles from Latin America for importation to the US, so fashion week proved to be a good breeding ground for a potential launch of a Colombian outpost - or at the least, to meet a few groups interested in getting their fashion lines to the US. He and I had caught up beforehand to arrange a few times to get together and meet up for events, parties, etc, so it was a good chance to have a wingman in a foreign place - we each had friends in Medellín, so it was an easy pull the groups together for some joda (fun).
Having already been through Medellín, I had seen most of the cultural attractions, museums, etc, so it gave me an opportunity to explore a bit, on top of the work I was continuing for a project in Baires. It seemed a bit more like a 'real' situation to be in a place (I had rented an apartment for the 2 weeks I was there), versus living from a backpack, bouncing from place to place, as I had the previous trip. As commercially vibrant as I had remembered from the previous trip, which took place during the Inter-American Bank of Development's 50th Anniversary congregation, something about a gorgeous city, with gorgeous people, celebrating a 'local' holiday made the city jump out more - the fact that it was smack in the middle of the summer probably didn't hurt the causa.
From the desfile de caballos - a parade of sorts, whereby each of the communities in Antioquia (the Colombian region/state in which Medellín sits) bring their best show horses - decorated in representative attire, colors, and other cultural elements - and 'treats' for the two week festival, and literally shut the city down for one day, waltzing thru the streets. It is an all-out party day, everyone drinking Paisa beer and micheladas, and eating fresh grilled corn, filled arepas, and chorizo - basically, a carnival's selection of greats foods that are horrible for you.
The feel of the place was amazing, and you could just pop from tent to tent, street to street, and grassy knoll to grassy knoll, meeting new people, 'cheersing' to whatever you wanted, and enjoying the weather and the people (did I mention how good looking the women are in Medellín?)... The energy that continued thru to the evenings was electric, with the entire city seemingly partying without care for the following day - La Fería is effectively a two-week holiday, so it's no wonder the evening festivities were Aguardiente-loaded with house music pumping: in a word, chévere!
The Launch!
Wilshire Hospitality... It's a name that I believe has several meanings, rings true to the core, and sounds pretty flippin' good... To give y'all a bit of background, when the Shindler Clan of LSD (that's Lake Shore Drive people, c'mon) moved from the digs overlooking Belmont Harbor, we crash landed in Wilmette, specifically, 'Hollywood in Wilmette' on a little street called Wilshire Drive East... From there, I think the rest should be relatively self-explanatory, as I was admitted (by the grace of someone's magic wand) to Cornell's 'prestigious' School of Hotel Administration while living on Wilshire Drive East... Some could legitimately argue that my hospitality career began when Carey was born, as that is when Dad opted to take the trip from real estate to hotels... It was probably one of the many Levy-genes that I inherited that got me in to this business in some way shape or form, but it has seemingly all worked out for the best...
However, I digress... I knew pretty early on in my Cornell days that I wanted to be on the ownership side, and in the late 90's/early 00's, the 'in-thing' seemed to be naming your fun after the street on which the office was located, so, I very quickly, and very astutely, selected Wilshire Hospitality as the 'brand' that I would create in some way shape or form (hotel ownership, asset management/services/consulting, operations of hotels/restaurants/bars/clubs, etc...) down the road when I was an adult and could be treated as such and respected by my peer group.
So, after partying ways with Gettys in the summer (northern hemisphere) of 2008, I began some independent, project-based consulting for some previous employers, and had the chance to work with Dad on a few projects he was kind enough to bring me in to, which was great, and quite rewarding. Working side-by-side with him (the client happened to be a father-son team as well) gave me the confidence (not just because he was blowing smoke up my ass) that I actually could work in the industry as a projessional, and that the experience that I had so meticulously charted over the previous years had apparently paid off...
It was pretty soon thereafter that I began using Wilshire Hospitality as the trade name (Adam Shindler d/b/a Wilshire Hospitality), and it wasn't until about 8 months later that I actually got myself up and running with a web-page (I expect to have the next versions published soon), email address, logo, etc... A good friend of mine from NYC, an Argentine guy who has really helped me get comfortable here, has been my designer for everything, and he will probably be fed up with my tendencies for absolute perfection when this process is all said and done, but so far, I now have a brand, I have a mark, I have a client, and I'm working on the rest as it comes together...
I'm pretty excited that I'm still moving toward a goal I had when I was 18, and I'm living the dream every day... Here's to the rest of 2009, and making dreams come alive!
This, of course, is coming from an insider's perspective (p.s. that's my tag line)...
However, I digress... I knew pretty early on in my Cornell days that I wanted to be on the ownership side, and in the late 90's/early 00's, the 'in-thing' seemed to be naming your fun after the street on which the office was located, so, I very quickly, and very astutely, selected Wilshire Hospitality as the 'brand' that I would create in some way shape or form (hotel ownership, asset management/services/consulting, operations of hotels/restaurants/bars/clubs, etc...) down the road when I was an adult and could be treated as such and respected by my peer group.
So, after partying ways with Gettys in the summer (northern hemisphere) of 2008, I began some independent, project-based consulting for some previous employers, and had the chance to work with Dad on a few projects he was kind enough to bring me in to, which was great, and quite rewarding. Working side-by-side with him (the client happened to be a father-son team as well) gave me the confidence (not just because he was blowing smoke up my ass) that I actually could work in the industry as a projessional, and that the experience that I had so meticulously charted over the previous years had apparently paid off...
It was pretty soon thereafter that I began using Wilshire Hospitality as the trade name (Adam Shindler d/b/a Wilshire Hospitality), and it wasn't until about 8 months later that I actually got myself up and running with a web-page (I expect to have the next versions published soon), email address, logo, etc... A good friend of mine from NYC, an Argentine guy who has really helped me get comfortable here, has been my designer for everything, and he will probably be fed up with my tendencies for absolute perfection when this process is all said and done, but so far, I now have a brand, I have a mark, I have a client, and I'm working on the rest as it comes together...
I'm pretty excited that I'm still moving toward a goal I had when I was 18, and I'm living the dream every day... Here's to the rest of 2009, and making dreams come alive!
This, of course, is coming from an insider's perspective (p.s. that's my tag line)...
Monday, June 15, 2009
6 Months!
It is always pretty amazing at how quickly time flies, and I'll just suggest that time may actually travel at super-sonic speed in Buenos Aires... A year to the day, I remember where I was, and I'll only say that it was not pretty... Man, how a year really can change your life - and for the record, I could not be in a better place to be living my dream...
Simply amazing, and the life I am trying to 'start' (relatively speaking) seem to be spot on, and I always excited to wake up with a smile on my face - so far, I have woken up every day, so that's a huge plus!
I have been rather fortunate thus far in finding a great group of friends, both Argentines and ex-pats, a team to play soccer with on weekends, and a pick-up game during the week, and a few clients to work with, all of which have helped me feel even more comfortable in the parts, not to mention a supportive family that puts up with me living on a different continent (I think their recent visit probably helped the 'get over it' a bit). It has been interesting to be a part of what seems to have been a migration of sorts, but not with much permanence - rather, people have arrived in waves, traveled, maybe stayed put for a few weeks or a couple of months, and then returned to where they came from or continued further travels in the region or the world (one friend literally circumnavigated the globe and only recently returned to northern California).
These brief stints have been both positive and negative, the latter of which has brought a bit more perspective on the life that 'we' lead down here as ex-pats versus the transient nature of being the 'host' to travelers from abroad. As can be said in other parts of the world, making friends, close ones, is always something that takes time - caveat: when you click with someone, it often isn't a long process - and as tricky as it has been to break in to the 'local' community, for obvious reasons, investing much time with the array of ex-pats is equally tricky, as you never really know when someone may pick up and leave. The most common series of questions that I have received from ex=pats follow:
1. When did you get here?
2. What do you do here?
3. For how long are you staying?
It is almost a certainty that when meeting someone new, these questions will be the basis for a conversation that can then take on various forms. At this point, I have begun to tell the newer ex-pats to learn the answers in Castellano, so the responses are 'cleaner, and well-rehearsed - it has certainly worked for me to perfect the answers/topics of conversation in Castellano so I can increase my rate of speech, comprehension, surrounding intimately familiar themes. It has been a wild 6 months, and I am finally looking forward to feeling a bit more settled and getting myself more established in my new home...
As they say here, "me cayó bien"...
Simply amazing, and the life I am trying to 'start' (relatively speaking) seem to be spot on, and I always excited to wake up with a smile on my face - so far, I have woken up every day, so that's a huge plus!
I have been rather fortunate thus far in finding a great group of friends, both Argentines and ex-pats, a team to play soccer with on weekends, and a pick-up game during the week, and a few clients to work with, all of which have helped me feel even more comfortable in the parts, not to mention a supportive family that puts up with me living on a different continent (I think their recent visit probably helped the 'get over it' a bit). It has been interesting to be a part of what seems to have been a migration of sorts, but not with much permanence - rather, people have arrived in waves, traveled, maybe stayed put for a few weeks or a couple of months, and then returned to where they came from or continued further travels in the region or the world (one friend literally circumnavigated the globe and only recently returned to northern California).
These brief stints have been both positive and negative, the latter of which has brought a bit more perspective on the life that 'we' lead down here as ex-pats versus the transient nature of being the 'host' to travelers from abroad. As can be said in other parts of the world, making friends, close ones, is always something that takes time - caveat: when you click with someone, it often isn't a long process - and as tricky as it has been to break in to the 'local' community, for obvious reasons, investing much time with the array of ex-pats is equally tricky, as you never really know when someone may pick up and leave. The most common series of questions that I have received from ex=pats follow:
1. When did you get here?
2. What do you do here?
3. For how long are you staying?
It is almost a certainty that when meeting someone new, these questions will be the basis for a conversation that can then take on various forms. At this point, I have begun to tell the newer ex-pats to learn the answers in Castellano, so the responses are 'cleaner, and well-rehearsed - it has certainly worked for me to perfect the answers/topics of conversation in Castellano so I can increase my rate of speech, comprehension, surrounding intimately familiar themes. It has been a wild 6 months, and I am finally looking forward to feeling a bit more settled and getting myself more established in my new home...
As they say here, "me cayó bien"...
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Siblings...
This isn't going to be long, cuz it's really only to suggest how cool it is to have siblings... As much as I would have traded Carey in from the time she was about 4 until she hit 13/14, I couldn't imaagine a life without a little sis - she's pretty awesome, and for those who have met her, probably put her on par with a rockstar slash comedian.
She's the best little sister, and my best friend, and as much as I'd like her to join the fray in South America, she's working on her own life, which apparently include buying a house, at 25... what?!
Lobe you :)
She's the best little sister, and my best friend, and as much as I'd like her to join the fray in South America, she's working on her own life, which apparently include buying a house, at 25... what?!
Lobe you :)
Friday, May 15, 2009
When Parents Come to Visit...
There are so many cliché phrases that come to mind when trying to relate yourself to your parents, growing up and becoming something (likely in an image of your parents)... For better or worse, we are our parents' offspring, and there a close genetic, social, cultural, ideological (etc) tie, obvio... In addition to those clichéd phrases, there are a handful of periods in ones life when we tend to be more critical/questioning of our parents, as people, as parents, as friends, etc...
1. 2-5: Why? This is less of an analytical period in our lives and more of a - literally, why? We are thirsty for knowledge and for right or wrong, assume that our parents have all the answers...
2. 10-13: Change... We begin becoming 'young adults' and, more now than ever, younger people are exposed to more 'global' affairs, social hierarchy, athletic competition (at a slightly higher level), and some of the trials and tribulations that our parents deal with on a daily basis...
3. 14-18: Idiots! During the high-school years, parents can generally only be described as utterly ridiculous, and mostly stupid - how could they understand so little about our lives, know so little about life, and be so blatantly dumb... This is certainly the stereotype, and no matter how great your parents (or mine for that matter) are/were, every kid has these thoughts at least once between these ages/within this schooling period.
4. 19-22: I love college! Maybe it is the ability to finally vote that begins a transformation to 'real' adulthood, but when you go to college (assuming you don't live at home and don't see your parents as frequently as you did in high school - caveat: being in South America changes this scale a bit - you begin to realize that your parents probably did a pretty good job of raising you, or at least, this is the hope that parents have, right? They want to be loved, respected, and treated like people who have done a good job in creating, raising, and supporting their offspring until they have reached a point of becoming a full-fledged, independent adult... At the same time, we, as 'children' can begin to unabashedly critique our parents, as humans, and less as parents - call this 'reflection'...
5. 22-29: Holy shit! Unfortunately, when you graduate from college (if it takes you more than 5 years, and you don't have multiple degrees, your parent are likely VERY supportive of whatever it is that you are dealing with on a more personal level), your eyes are wide open - I'm a college graduate, I have a job (hopefully), and I am trying to support myself, sweet!! Right, and then reality smacks you in the face, and you realize you need to budget the Rahmen noodles, hot dogs, PBR, and jungle juice because rent is expensive, your cell phone is not cheap with all the gadgets/plans you 'need' to have, the car, insurance, gas, parking adds up quick, and that doesn't even count the gym membership, nites out on the town with friends, and any other 'luxuries' like health insurance (ideally, your company's share keeps your premium down to a reasonable level, but good luck with 'additional' medical support for specialists like the dermatologist, the psychologist, opthomologist, etc)... The biggest adjustment that many of us 'children' need to make comes in the form of lifestyle, and often, this is when credit card debt becomes a problem for people in my generation. I've always been terrified of 'debt' on a personal/consumer level, because it suggests a lack of control, and excess beyond the means by which you have the ability to afford yourself the opportunity to live/continue living in such a form as you were provided by your parents - call this the wake up call. Life really begins, you are finding yourself, meeting your 'crew' (if you grow up and do not continue to only spend time with friends from high school and/or college - caveat: I have been lucky in that I have great friends from each stage, and have tried to incorporate all of them in to my life, together, to further unify the 'crew'), maybe your significant other, and potentially find a place for yourself in the world, all the while, realizing that your parents (with luck and health) are still around, and very supportive of your decisions. Clearly, I have the most to discuss in this area, as I feel the amount of growth I have made in this period has been remarkable, and certainly, have been at odds with my parents over a handful of things, as adults and parents over the years, but it is with each conversation with them, their parents, and the extended family, that I realize that I'm a pretty lucky kid...
6: 30+ Who knows?! I'm not their yet, but when I hit the big 3-0, gulp, I'm sure I'll have reached another point in my life to be more critical of my parents...
That all aside, my parents wanted to pay me a visit in South America - great call! As was the case in college, or, whenever I have lived outside of Chicago, it means, free stuff! I kid (sorta)... They had been extremely supportive of me in the decision to move abroad, follow my dreams, learn a language, etc, and it was only appropriate that we spent the better part of the first 4 months of my time here planning their trip to visit. With some luck, it overlapped with my sister's visit a bit, so the opportunity all be in the same place was pretty cool. That said, my parents aren't exactly travel junkies - my dad is on the road a lot for work, and my mom should probably be a New Yorker (afterall, she grew up in CT and went to college on Strong Island) and isn't much of a tourist, so, needless to say, I was given the role of guide, babysitter, event coordinator, concierge, etc...
It always seemed ok when the people who came to visit wanted to know about the City, do stuff, be shown about, etc, but when it's your parents, things seem to change - they won't go away, they are always in your business, etc... It's understandable that my parents wanted to experience what it was that I had been doing for the previous 5 months, but it felt an awful lot like interference, which totally prevented me from being 'normal' and in the end, it stressed me out beyond belief. Getting back to their traveling patterns, as a pair, I'm not sure of the last time they took an 'exploratory' vacation to a new place (I do not necessarily include weekend getaways with friends at a house, or a destination hotel/spa), so coming here was certainly a long trip. So, not being a huge walking pair - as I said, my mom should be a New Yorker, where taking cabs it the 'easier' thing to do - it was tough for me to suggest things to do, because BA is very much a walking/exploratory City, I mean, there are north of 12 million people who live here, so there's lots to see, but not as much to 'do' during the day...
We hit up the obligatory museums, some great restaurant spots for lunch and dinner, and I sent them on their own day of exploration to San Telmo, where they could have their own vacation, and not feel like they were only in South America to visit me - caveat (another): they continued on to Mendoza to do some wine touring/spa time, and then to Santiago, a city my dad had been to only once before for work, a long time ago...
In all, the 6 days I got to spend with my parents, in my new home - they were not too keen on me calling BA 'home' but, tough shit - was great, and despite the remarkable stress it caused me, I have realized that to have that opportunity (my parents coming to visit me in the country I live in, about a 16 hour door-to-door trip from Chicago) is really lucky.
Mom, Dad, thank you, I love you both.
When you come back, plan ahead... Besos y abrazos
1. 2-5: Why? This is less of an analytical period in our lives and more of a - literally, why? We are thirsty for knowledge and for right or wrong, assume that our parents have all the answers...
2. 10-13: Change... We begin becoming 'young adults' and, more now than ever, younger people are exposed to more 'global' affairs, social hierarchy, athletic competition (at a slightly higher level), and some of the trials and tribulations that our parents deal with on a daily basis...
3. 14-18: Idiots! During the high-school years, parents can generally only be described as utterly ridiculous, and mostly stupid - how could they understand so little about our lives, know so little about life, and be so blatantly dumb... This is certainly the stereotype, and no matter how great your parents (or mine for that matter) are/were, every kid has these thoughts at least once between these ages/within this schooling period.
4. 19-22: I love college! Maybe it is the ability to finally vote that begins a transformation to 'real' adulthood, but when you go to college (assuming you don't live at home and don't see your parents as frequently as you did in high school - caveat: being in South America changes this scale a bit - you begin to realize that your parents probably did a pretty good job of raising you, or at least, this is the hope that parents have, right? They want to be loved, respected, and treated like people who have done a good job in creating, raising, and supporting their offspring until they have reached a point of becoming a full-fledged, independent adult... At the same time, we, as 'children' can begin to unabashedly critique our parents, as humans, and less as parents - call this 'reflection'...
5. 22-29: Holy shit! Unfortunately, when you graduate from college (if it takes you more than 5 years, and you don't have multiple degrees, your parent are likely VERY supportive of whatever it is that you are dealing with on a more personal level), your eyes are wide open - I'm a college graduate, I have a job (hopefully), and I am trying to support myself, sweet!! Right, and then reality smacks you in the face, and you realize you need to budget the Rahmen noodles, hot dogs, PBR, and jungle juice because rent is expensive, your cell phone is not cheap with all the gadgets/plans you 'need' to have, the car, insurance, gas, parking adds up quick, and that doesn't even count the gym membership, nites out on the town with friends, and any other 'luxuries' like health insurance (ideally, your company's share keeps your premium down to a reasonable level, but good luck with 'additional' medical support for specialists like the dermatologist, the psychologist, opthomologist, etc)... The biggest adjustment that many of us 'children' need to make comes in the form of lifestyle, and often, this is when credit card debt becomes a problem for people in my generation. I've always been terrified of 'debt' on a personal/consumer level, because it suggests a lack of control, and excess beyond the means by which you have the ability to afford yourself the opportunity to live/continue living in such a form as you were provided by your parents - call this the wake up call. Life really begins, you are finding yourself, meeting your 'crew' (if you grow up and do not continue to only spend time with friends from high school and/or college - caveat: I have been lucky in that I have great friends from each stage, and have tried to incorporate all of them in to my life, together, to further unify the 'crew'), maybe your significant other, and potentially find a place for yourself in the world, all the while, realizing that your parents (with luck and health) are still around, and very supportive of your decisions. Clearly, I have the most to discuss in this area, as I feel the amount of growth I have made in this period has been remarkable, and certainly, have been at odds with my parents over a handful of things, as adults and parents over the years, but it is with each conversation with them, their parents, and the extended family, that I realize that I'm a pretty lucky kid...
6: 30+ Who knows?! I'm not their yet, but when I hit the big 3-0, gulp, I'm sure I'll have reached another point in my life to be more critical of my parents...
That all aside, my parents wanted to pay me a visit in South America - great call! As was the case in college, or, whenever I have lived outside of Chicago, it means, free stuff! I kid (sorta)... They had been extremely supportive of me in the decision to move abroad, follow my dreams, learn a language, etc, and it was only appropriate that we spent the better part of the first 4 months of my time here planning their trip to visit. With some luck, it overlapped with my sister's visit a bit, so the opportunity all be in the same place was pretty cool. That said, my parents aren't exactly travel junkies - my dad is on the road a lot for work, and my mom should probably be a New Yorker (afterall, she grew up in CT and went to college on Strong Island) and isn't much of a tourist, so, needless to say, I was given the role of guide, babysitter, event coordinator, concierge, etc...
It always seemed ok when the people who came to visit wanted to know about the City, do stuff, be shown about, etc, but when it's your parents, things seem to change - they won't go away, they are always in your business, etc... It's understandable that my parents wanted to experience what it was that I had been doing for the previous 5 months, but it felt an awful lot like interference, which totally prevented me from being 'normal' and in the end, it stressed me out beyond belief. Getting back to their traveling patterns, as a pair, I'm not sure of the last time they took an 'exploratory' vacation to a new place (I do not necessarily include weekend getaways with friends at a house, or a destination hotel/spa), so coming here was certainly a long trip. So, not being a huge walking pair - as I said, my mom should be a New Yorker, where taking cabs it the 'easier' thing to do - it was tough for me to suggest things to do, because BA is very much a walking/exploratory City, I mean, there are north of 12 million people who live here, so there's lots to see, but not as much to 'do' during the day...
We hit up the obligatory museums, some great restaurant spots for lunch and dinner, and I sent them on their own day of exploration to San Telmo, where they could have their own vacation, and not feel like they were only in South America to visit me - caveat (another): they continued on to Mendoza to do some wine touring/spa time, and then to Santiago, a city my dad had been to only once before for work, a long time ago...
In all, the 6 days I got to spend with my parents, in my new home - they were not too keen on me calling BA 'home' but, tough shit - was great, and despite the remarkable stress it caused me, I have realized that to have that opportunity (my parents coming to visit me in the country I live in, about a 16 hour door-to-door trip from Chicago) is really lucky.
Mom, Dad, thank you, I love you both.
When you come back, plan ahead... Besos y abrazos
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