The bread has eyes.

Not many foreign tourists frequent 9 de Julio.  As far as we can tell there are only three hotels in town and Trip Advisor has only seven listings for things to do in town.  On closer inspection, six of those things are 30 kilometres out of town.  While it isn’t a tourist town, the girls have had an active social life.  One of Truce’s classmates is the Principal’s daughter and the Principal has helped organise for Truce and Indiana to meet all of Truce’s class.  They’ve been out to three different houses for a swim and two different birthday parties.  School still doesn’t start until the 6^th of March for Truce and the 13^th for Indy.  By the time their first day comes round they should know everyone’s name.

Whilst in the local panadería (there’s one of every fourth corner) buying some bread, the young female shop assistant engaged me in the following conversation.

            Do you live on Sarmiento street?

No, we live on Robbio street.

            Do you have a car?

No, we walk everywhere.

            I saw your daughters in a car. (With a knowing smile.)

Yesterday?

Yes.

Our friend has a car. (Awkward silence)  Can I some chorri-pan please without the creepy feeling?

            Anything else?

No.  I think you’ve given me enough to think about for today.

We do stand out a little bit.  On the third day here a mother, who we had not met, stopped us outside a shop to tell us that Truce will be in her daughter’s class.

Things in Argentina don’t always work to the same standard that we are used to in Australia.  On the bus trip to 9 de Julio we passed some road works.  In Australia there are witches’ hats, flashing lights, people in fluro clothes and reduced speed signs to warn you to slow down.  Here, we saw one man with a red and white flag waving his little heart out to make sure the bus saw him in time to stop for the road works.  Our oven door doesn’t quite close and Talluah was trying to make a cake for an afternoon tea. Our friend is Coeliac and Talluah was able to find gluten free flour but not self-raising.  The banana cake resembled more of an oversized puffed up pancake but was eaten and enjoyed none the less. No thanks to the oven, with it’s choice of two flames, inferno or almost off.  The main problem was that all the heat was escaping out the unclose-able door.  No oven door can thwart the power of a cane chair.