A faded concrete wall some thirty feet tall holds in the bluffs that rise above the sand. I have sat on the parapet that tops off the wall and borders the sidewalk running along the coastal avenue. Haze off the sea. Approaching walls of clouds. Or dead calm - a metallic turquoise lake. And heading straight out to sea you should be able to round the tip of Uruguay at Punta del Este and sail towards South Africa. Some 200 million years ago you would be at the edge of a fissure running through Gondwanaland - so geology tells us. Somewhere near Namibia? And then breaking away and drifting west and south, down at the tip still attached to Antartica for a few million years more. This shore. This concrete wall - ramparts of a crusader castle defending this quasi-european city. It´s ribbed backside ( to quote Iggy Pop entirely out of context ).
So where are we? Ulysses sails for five moons after passing through the Pillars of Hercules and heading south according to Dante in Canto XXVI. There his ship flounders off the Isle of Purgatory in a punishing whirlwind sent by God. How far could a ship from ancient Greece sail or row in five months? Headwinds, storms; adrift perhaps. But inexorably heading south, like Arthur Gordon Pym. They would easily reach this far south. Perhaps further. I walk into the wind, the Asilo Unzue staring blindly out to sea, half-renovated, some ten blocks ahead. Oriana´s birthday was yesterday and so we´re into the second half of April. The sun is warm but the wind cuts. I walk staring to my right at the waves breaking. It really should be Canto XXVII in this entry, but XXVI deals with the same subject, fradulent advisors encased in flames. And it´s an excuse to think of Ulysses rowing through the South Atlantic in tragic defiance of the gods.
So where are we? Cagnazzo sent his sweetest birthday greetings and Pipo Scarmiglione drove down and celebrated the asado we had at Diego´s place. The weather turned cold early in the evening and we roasted marshmallows ( bought in Buenos Aires ), after devouring all the meat. Oriana´s feigned indifference could hardly cover her pleasure at the gifts and the party. I drank my share of wine and stared at Isadora when she wasn´t looking. I had meant to corner Pipo and ask when they might have another job for us but I also knew that generating jobs was mostly my problem. So that´s were we are. Between jobs again although with Matts help we now have a nice website up advertising ¨ A retreat by the South Atlantic for those who need the Ocean´s comfort ¨. Cagnazzo insisted on us using a translator from Cordoba ( I think she teaches at St Patricks - the Cordoba school not the one in Bariloche ). I didn´t change too much of what she proposed and the final result was a little silly but not too embarrasing. Let´s see who bites. The rewiring is done but the plumbing is proving a little trickier to bring up to scratch in a few units. It should be taken care of in the next week or two. I laugh to myself as I pass the Havanna plant on Brandsen. From filching euros and fencing stolen passports to selling condominiums by the sea. But it´s a brief release. The worry underneath is constant. We need money. More than ever now. As I scurry across the lanes of traffic at the light that borders the northern edge of the Asilo, I imagine myself encased in a flame but the image doesn´t fit and I let it dissolve. Thievery, avarice and fraud. I´ve even betrayed Isa with a fictional liason with wandering Liz. But how could I be a fradulent advisor? No expertise, no influence, no power. And yet I need to imagine a pattern to my descent - if I indeed am descending rather than just floating through the post- industrial collage of this decade, this new century. I walk quickly past the carwash and towards our building, like a sentinel seeking refuge behind the parapets of the Krak de Montreal in the plains of Edom. But there are no besieging forces sent by Saladin in defence of Mecca. Only something inside me that spills me in a spinning, dizzy spiral onto the cool tiles of the hallway. I awake alone and pick myself up and walk upstairs to our apartment where I hide in the bedroom and even pray a short while.
So where are we? Ulysses sails for five moons after passing through the Pillars of Hercules and heading south according to Dante in Canto XXVI. There his ship flounders off the Isle of Purgatory in a punishing whirlwind sent by God. How far could a ship from ancient Greece sail or row in five months? Headwinds, storms; adrift perhaps. But inexorably heading south, like Arthur Gordon Pym. They would easily reach this far south. Perhaps further. I walk into the wind, the Asilo Unzue staring blindly out to sea, half-renovated, some ten blocks ahead. Oriana´s birthday was yesterday and so we´re into the second half of April. The sun is warm but the wind cuts. I walk staring to my right at the waves breaking. It really should be Canto XXVII in this entry, but XXVI deals with the same subject, fradulent advisors encased in flames. And it´s an excuse to think of Ulysses rowing through the South Atlantic in tragic defiance of the gods.
So where are we? Cagnazzo sent his sweetest birthday greetings and Pipo Scarmiglione drove down and celebrated the asado we had at Diego´s place. The weather turned cold early in the evening and we roasted marshmallows ( bought in Buenos Aires ), after devouring all the meat. Oriana´s feigned indifference could hardly cover her pleasure at the gifts and the party. I drank my share of wine and stared at Isadora when she wasn´t looking. I had meant to corner Pipo and ask when they might have another job for us but I also knew that generating jobs was mostly my problem. So that´s were we are. Between jobs again although with Matts help we now have a nice website up advertising ¨ A retreat by the South Atlantic for those who need the Ocean´s comfort ¨. Cagnazzo insisted on us using a translator from Cordoba ( I think she teaches at St Patricks - the Cordoba school not the one in Bariloche ). I didn´t change too much of what she proposed and the final result was a little silly but not too embarrasing. Let´s see who bites. The rewiring is done but the plumbing is proving a little trickier to bring up to scratch in a few units. It should be taken care of in the next week or two. I laugh to myself as I pass the Havanna plant on Brandsen. From filching euros and fencing stolen passports to selling condominiums by the sea. But it´s a brief release. The worry underneath is constant. We need money. More than ever now. As I scurry across the lanes of traffic at the light that borders the northern edge of the Asilo, I imagine myself encased in a flame but the image doesn´t fit and I let it dissolve. Thievery, avarice and fraud. I´ve even betrayed Isa with a fictional liason with wandering Liz. But how could I be a fradulent advisor? No expertise, no influence, no power. And yet I need to imagine a pattern to my descent - if I indeed am descending rather than just floating through the post- industrial collage of this decade, this new century. I walk quickly past the carwash and towards our building, like a sentinel seeking refuge behind the parapets of the Krak de Montreal in the plains of Edom. But there are no besieging forces sent by Saladin in defence of Mecca. Only something inside me that spills me in a spinning, dizzy spiral onto the cool tiles of the hallway. I awake alone and pick myself up and walk upstairs to our apartment where I hide in the bedroom and even pray a short while.
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