If you read my blog reguarly, you probably notice that I don't write as much as I used to. I don't have time. I am so busy now that time has become a very precious commodity. I forgot how much energy it takes to start a new business.
I am in Once so much the vendors call out to me now "Hola amiga!" when I am walking down the street. Labels, bags, hangers, thread, zippers, fabric. There is always something to buy. I spend hours drawing designs. Not all of them become dresses. Some do and they don't go any farther. Some good ideas should stay on paper. Some days I want to kill the women who work for me. Other days I adore them. I suppose this is natural.
I was warned by many people who were in the garment industry in Italy and the US that Argentina is a disaster to work in. I know I have been lucky. I have had my mini-disasters. I designed a very sexy dress dress that should have been made in silk jersey for a sample and they decided to make it in modal. Modal is 10 times heavier than silk jersey which is slinky and sexy. They decided I had so much of the modal that it was silly to waste the silk jersey which surely cost more. They cost the same. It had a tulle overlay that was supposed to be hemmed with a special machine. They forgot to tell me they didn't have this machine and used overlock.
They brought my very sexy dress in modal with tulle and a crude overlock hem. I almost passed out. They couldn't understand I had no idea how the dress would lay or flow. They could not plead innocent stupidity because they sign the workorders I give them. So I instituted a new policy. They have to pay for the fabric for all the wrong workorders. This has greatly reduced the flow of "mistakes."
I still dance. The only reason I do not go out as much is because the milongas keep getting more and more expensive. That along with the taxis has made it almost impossible for the locals to go out more than a couple of times a week. 25 pesos is a lot of money. 8 pesos for water. I take the bus. I have no choice unless I can find someone to split the taxi with. Taxis are going to go up again the end of the year. I am going to have to sell lots of dresses to be able to take one.
A "lovely person" sent me an email and told me to stop crying poor. "Everyone knows you have tons of money." she wrote. (Everyone but me, that is.) "You came during the crisis, you have a dogwalker." I am not sure what one has to do with the other. I have a dogwalker because some mornings I can hardly move. (I have fibromyalgia and some mornings it takes me a bit to get going. I can barely get to the bathroom let alone around the block.) Having a dogwalker hardly makes someone rich.
Then there is the guy that tells me that I should change the name of my blog. His email starts out "You stupid bitch." Most of his emails start out to me that way. His reasoning is "that I don't know how to dance. I don't talk about tango anymore. All the Argentines hate me anyway." Amazing what some people seem to do with their free time.
Americans seem to be disturbed that I was not happy about my trip back to the US in June. It really bugged them. I will be starting my 7th year in Argentina in December. My trip back was my first one in 5 years. It was major culture shock. Somehow that fact does not seem to register to these people. Argentina is my home and I have adapted to the culture here. Being in the US freaked me out. I think I was freaked out by being freaked out. They don't understand it was not the same as going on vacation. I USED to live there. I live HERE now.
Those same people think I am unhappy here. I love my life here. I think I have a bunch of armchair psychologists reading my blog. At least the Argentines who read my blog understand my jokes. It's tough being bicultural. No one understands you. Sometimes you don't understand yourself. Well at least I have my dog. No one understand her, except me.
This January I am actually going to go on vacation. Like an Argentine. To Ushuaia. While everyone else runs to the beach and pays overpriced rates to get skin cancer I will be in clean air at the end of the world. More about that later. It is only November. One never knows.
And now to end with my friend Alberto Paz. He still needs your help. He had two stents put in and is doing much much better. A friend from New Orleans put the trip from Canada to New Orleans on her credit card. She needs to be paid back by December 1st. While Canada may have socialized medicine for its residents, it does not have it for visitors and Alberto's insurance did not cover his time there in the hopspital. Please help out anyway you can. Send a donation via Pay Pal to email@example.com.