3

Elusive Encounters

Lunch.

Café Dos Escudos

I am eating lunch at Dos Escudos, as Carlos and I have done for nine consecutive years––interacting with the servers—three women and a Middle-Eastern looking server, Martín.
I realize in a new way that this trip is no vacation and no distraction from my lingering agony. On the contrary, everything here is drenched in memories I dearly welcome.
Right now, in my mind’s eye, Carlos and I are sitting here, at this café. Along with the macchiato and the remembrances, I am savoring last night’s show at our majestic opera house, the Teatro Colón…

Therapy.

I enter this other world of quietude, empathy, understanding, and the luxury of not being judged. As I begin to turn my gaze inside, a leftover experience forms in my mind. I share it.
“I get anxious having dinner by myself in Buenos Aires. I didn’t feel that way in the United States.” I share with Dr. Novelli the associations that came to me at Rodi restaurant last night.

Perfume without aroma,
White shadow,
White dove riding on the wind,
A stranger to myself,
My self in grief
Bits of my loved dead ones.
My roots! Where are they?

Read my entire poem here

Rodi Restaurant

The unconscious dynamic Dr. Novelli and I discover in this session brings about an awareness that makes my anxiety at dinner time cease.
As I leave the session, I mention that my initially warm companionship with Gustavo has turned brittle after four weeks.

Outside.

Mindlessly, I cross Callao Avenue and reach the opposite sidewalk soaking wet. By now my umbrella is dancing to the whims of the wind. Why not? I discard my cover and let the rain fall on me. Its coolness wakes my senses.

Photo Ana Vaisenstein

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