School ahoy me hearties.

We are in the process of having WiFi connected to the house and are currently enjoying super slow internet through a local phone provider.  There is free WiFi in the parks and plaza but this is only strong enough to send messages, small messages, written with abbreviations – in lowercase. 

Argentina is very much a manaña country.  For the past week we have been told that we will be shown the school – manaña.  Today, manaña came, for me at least.  The school is about 3 kilometres from our house and with no public transport we have been told we can carpool with other parents.  We are on the lookout for some second hand bikes and luckily we have been lent one bike with some more on the way.  I rode our bike to school today, our bike which is for someone Truce’s age.  The handlebars are level with the seat and with practice I’ll be able to steer and pedal using just my legs.  Looking a little bit like a clown on a circus bike I headed out in the midday sun, past the Zona Urban sign, past the defunct train line and onto the dust road.  Note the word choice.  It isn’t a dirt road, it’s a dust road.  The type that grabs your front wheel and kicks it to the left.  I worked like a rodeo star to keep my rusty horned beast on a straight path.  My arms pumped like a Lycra wearing gym junkie.  My legs pushed the chain around the single back cog and my pores do what all good pores do on a hot day.  I knew the day was going to be hot and had packed a second T-shirt.  I arrived at the school, quickly changed my shirt and was introduced to some of the staff.  Everyone here kisses on the cheek when they meet.  It doesn’t matter if you’re a stranger or someone you saw the day before.  I stood there, perspiring and explaining to everyone that I met that I had ridden my bike.  I wanted to put a buffer between my cheek and theirs out of courtesy, perhaps even one of those hanging green pine trees you see in cars.  I think that on a hot day a quick high five might be much more appropriate.