A Love Letter to Buenos Aires

I recently traveled to Buenos Aires, Argentina, famously called the “Paris of South America.” I’ve never been to France, but it’s not hard to see why the city has this nickname. I had to keep reminding myself I was not in Europe.

I spoke a ton of Spanish. I read short stories by the famous Argentine writer Jorge Luis Borges while enjoying espresso in cafes. I had fun discussions with people from Germany, Canada, the Netherlands, Denmark, Chile, Venezuela, Colombia, Spain, and more. I walked through narrow cobblestone streets for hours. I saw one of the most beautiful bookstores in the world. I told British socialists why their economic worldview is mistaken. I tried speaking Italian but realized I’d lost my skill with it. I indulged in some margaritas at the hostel by the pool bar. I had a tear in my eye listening to the song The Fire Inside at one point.

I lived.

Buenos Aires was both familiar and foreign. The architecture, style, and overall vibe of the place didn’t feel that different from my experiences in Italy and Spain.

But of course, it was different in innumerable ways. Their form of Spanish is distinct. Their empanadas and cuts of meat are signature. And there is something mysterious about the place.

What could also be called mysterious is solo traveling. It’s like check-raising in poker. It takes guts. You have to trust yourself. “Live as if everything is rigged in your favor,” wrote the poet Rumi. Isn’t that a wonderful line? It’s also the perfect mindset to have while on a solo adventure.

Solo adventures and travel in general offer perspectives you simply cannot get in other ways.

As I’ve written before, when you go to new places your brain maps new territory, like the way chunks load into a Minecraft world. There is something special going on there. Your neurons are firing in new ways. That’s the physical aspect.

Then, there is the cultural aspect. When you shed the pressures and expectations imposed by your own culture, it is as if all that is left is the things you actually care about, the things that genuinely interest you, as opposed to things you may do just to impress people, or because you feel like you have to.

I first got a taste of this dynamic when I studied abroad in Spain during college, which, uncoincidentally, is when I started this blog.

On the other hand, I can’t help but think there is a dark side to the whole wanderlust lifestyle. For example, I know some people who travel indefinitely, working remotely and living in different countries. I view this lifestyle as cool and exciting.

Yet there is something about it that seems too hedonistic, and it makes me wonder if some people over-rely on travel as the primary source of meaning in life.

There is nothing wrong with it being a source, but the nature of digital nomadism, or whatever you want to call it, seems to be that relationships end up being short-term, ephemeral, lacking compound interest.

I couldn’t agree more with the quote attributed to Saint Augustine: “The world is a book, and those who never travel read only a page.” Traveling is an awesome thing. But community, responsibility, and long-term relationships are pretty much impossible to foster while doing so. Which is a problem, because they are more robust sources of meaning than novelty of environment.

Community, responsibility, and long-term relationships are part of what I’ve been loving about Austin, Texas.

Speaking of which, there was a poetic moment when I sat down in a cafe, and the first song that came on was Texas Sun by Khruangbin and Leon Bridges. It was not what I expected to hear in such a faraway land. I love these moments of synchronicity, just as I love that Texas sun.

My parents and brothers are coming to visit and enjoy the Texas sun this weekend, and I’m thrilled. I can’t wait to tell them some stories from the magical city of Buenos Aires.

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With gratitude,

Jeff