As I walked up to the dilapidated building and saw the band of smokers outside mingling with those waiting inline, I thought, “Please, no.” My fears were confirmed as I crossed the threshold and saw the line of those waiting to pick up their packages. It was rather disheartening to hear the man at the desk call out “seis” (six) and look down at the number 95 in my hand. I felt sorry for the American kid from California who waited all that time, only to get to the front of the line and find out he need his passport and was out of luck. Fortunately, I learned that lesson a long time ago and came prepared.

For a while I stood in front of the desk in disbelief. Usually my life here is 1st or 2nd world with visits to the 3rd world for teaching or visiting friends. But sometimes the 3rd world grabs you by surprise, throws you in the car, and drives around for a while, during which time you’re held hostage. This was one of those days. I watched as two men frantically took papers, made a trip to the central computer because theirs either weren’t working or weren’t networked, and then placed the papers in a bin. But this was no ordinary bin, it was a rectangular wooden box, with a divider in the middle. After placing the paper in the box, they would tap on the cable, as if to say to the men upstairs, “Goin’ up!” The box then proceed up the pulley system as another simultaneously descended. Now the USPS is known for its inefficiency, but this was surreal. I took some pictures as I waited in line and and then proceeded to find sit in the other waiting room as it would be a while before my number was called.

I had entered the building at 12:49 p.m. and finally had my paper stamped at 2:06 p.m. But that was merely the first stage. They had only received my request and now I had to wait for the men upstairs to find my package after pulling my slip out of the aforementioned magical box. I staggered to the waiting room thinking, “This can’t take too long.” I should have known better. Disbelief returned as they called out numbers on the speaker system. All of our numbers were 7 digits long and there was no convenient display like when you return an unwanted toaster at Target. The numbers were repeated quickly, with some distortion in the sound, and at intermittent moments. At one point, the waiting room was entirely full, and as there had been a long delay since the last number had been called, some of the 100 or so people began to clap and cheer, saying “Vamos!” (“Let’s go”) as if were were at a soccer match. At 3:52 p.m., I thought I heard my number called and proceeded through the door. Relief washed over me as I glimpsed that glorious white and blue Priority Mail padded envelope. I walked past all the men dressed in lab coats, as if processing packages qualified them as special technicians, made one final stop to sign out, and was on my way.

Three hours to pick up some mail. Oh efficiency how I miss thee. How anyone in this country could walk out of there still espousing socialism is beyond me. My friend Spencer is sending me some of his grad school books and in a couple weeks I’ll get to do it again!

When it comes to Argentine politics, I don’t know much. My information comes only from my discussions with Maria and what I read in the La Nación newspaper (which is no friend of the Kirchners and laments lack of progress in the country). However, there are a few superficial aspects that I find interesting. The first observation is that politicians here have facial hair. One of the candidates running for a lower office looks like a brunette Yosemite Sam. If you look at members of the U.S. Congress, I cannot think of anyone with a beard, goatee, or mustache. If you can, please let me know. While we prefer the clean look and a smile, posters here portray solemn candidates who, if they can muster a half-hearted smile, at the very best look uncomfortable. I’ve been told this serious appearance implies that they take their job more seriously.

Another notable difference is the use of the words socialismo (socialism) and izquierda (left or leftist) on posters. In Latin America, there is no masking these terms and candidates use them as part of ther marketing slogans. The U.S. has plenty of socialists, but they still have to lie or at least hide their true intentions. Anyone who puts socialist or leftist on their poster might as well throw in the towel.

Elections here are not the media circus that we suffer through in the United States. This is a good thing. I cringe at the thought of going home in ‘08 and having to put up with campaign ads. Maybe if John McCain can “clean up politics” and restrict our free speech even more, I won’t have to! According to a poll I read last week in the newspaper, 7 out of 10 Argentine are apathetic about the election. Given the lack of variance between the candidates, their corruption, and what the people have been through, I can’t say I blame them.

I just learned this one on Saturday when Maria explained the voting process to me. It was so archaic I couldn’t believe it. When they go to the voting location, if they want to vote a straight party ballot, they simply place the paper corresponding to that party and its 5 candidates in their envelope, seal it, and walk out the door. If they choose to vote a mixed ballot, which is more common here given the large number of parties, they first select the papers of the various parties for which they would like to vote. Then, with a scissors, they cut along the dotted lines to divide the papers as necessary and place the names of their 5 choices in the envelope. With all the possible permutations and the feverish clipping, it’s no wonder yesterday was the most chaotic election since the democratization of the country in 1983. Argentina is more advanced than many countries and can offer an advanced way of life, but stone age processes such as this baffle me.

At times I thought perhaps I was imagining this mindset. But the more time I spend here, the more certain I become not only of its existence, but of it pernicious nature. Corruption, inflation, social disorder, lack of justice, and other matters are talked about but not confronted with any gusto because that would require honest introspection. I never cease to be amazed how government officials here can tell bald face lies and suffer no repercussions. Sure politicians in the U.S. lie all the time, but they have to work at it. In Argentina, when news surfaces that could tarnish the national image, someone holds a press conference and simply negates its validity, knowing full well they’re lying. There is no need to spin the news because so many want to believe the country is doing well.

For someone who has not spent time in Argentina, it will be impossible to understand the gravity of their thinking. It may even seem like I am exaggerating or making a mountain out of a molehill. But I cannot overstate the importance of the dismissal of reality here. It affects their world view and thus their lives and the destiny of the country.

The nationalism here is so strong that when I was with Vanesa, I usually kept my opinions to myself because I knew our world views were so different. But it went beyond just discrepancies of opinion. The few times I did try to discuss something negative going on in Argentina, she saw it as an attack. For her, even admitting the country had a bleak future or that there was a grave problem with the national mindset would be turning her back on her people. As she saw it, my inability to accept the Argentine world view as it was came from my close mindedness. An open mind would have been to not worry about the differences and accept that each country was different. This prevented us from entering into discussions of the relationship between our world views, faith, family, culture, raising children, etc.

It is this false national pride that gives me reason to worry for the future of the country. When a large percentage of the population cannot admit a problem, there can be no discussion of change or the validity of contrary ways of thinking. When combined with the general ignorance of the growing lower class, it is a recipe for disaster. People are clinging to impoverished ideas that limit them and hold their country in captivity.

I just read a fascinating article in today’s edition of La Nación that inspired me to write about this subject. It talks about the low tolerance for the truth in Argentina. This is a topic with which I have been wrestling for 6 months. I continually feel vindicated when I read stories such as this or talk with locals who have traveled and can understand how people from other parts of the world think. There is nothing more powerful than our thoughts and being in Argentina has opened my eyes to this truth like never before.

Speaking of the World Cup, I didn’t even know there was a Rugby World Cup until 2 weeks ago when I saw commercials while watching U.S. Open tennis. Apparently it’s a big deal. It started last Friday and lasts approximately a month, with all matches taking place in France. It looks like I have some reading to do in order to understand the rules.

Is the Rugby World Cup 2007 televised in the U.S.? Did anyone else know this existed?

While it might seem like a decent idea on the surface, I’m glad we don’t require people to vote. Those who vote should be informed and have at least a decent idea of what they’re doing. Mandatory voting would only increase the number of people voting without any clue as to what they’re doing. In turn, political campaigns would be even more full of empty promises and appeals to common misconceptions. While low turnout is sad, voting is still a right and privilege and not an obligation.

(In a side note, many political candidates here have facial hair–not to common and unheard of in Congress. Also, they don’t smile in their political ad photos. Maria told me this would signify they were joking or making fun rather than taking their job seriously. A bit different than our photo-ops with senators shaking hands and kissing babies).

The fortune enjoyed by foreigners does not apply to the Argentine citizenry. Inflation has now “settled down” to a “mere” 10% annually. As a foreigner used to 1-2%, it’s almost impossible to comprehend how they keep going. The difficulty is that wages are lagging severely and come nowhere near keeping up with inflation. Every year their life becomes more and more expensive.

Economics 101 teaches the difference between prices and costs. Price is a ratio used as compensation in a transaction. A cost is what we give up to obtain something. Cost is the most accurate comparison as it shows one’s buying power. The price is the same for an Argentine or an American, but the number of hours put into earning that quantity of money is significantly greater for the Argentine. To give an accurate comparison of their buying power, I try to pretend that the price in pesos is really a price in dollars. For example, someone earning $20,000 a year in the U.S. would earn 20,000 pesos or less per year. Therefore, an Argentine buying a can of tuna in Argentina for 3 pesos ($1) is like an American paying $3 for that same can in the U.S. instead of the current price of roughly $1. While the American pays the same here, the Argentine pays 3 times more than his counterpart who earned dollars.

It’s not hard to see why very few people here can save money. Not only are common goods more expensive for them, imported good are almost unattainable. Name brands, whether in clothing, electronics, camping gear, or anything else are often 2 or 3 times more in dollars. Factor in the exchange rate and their buying potential and imported goods can cost them 6 to 9 times what we pay.

The table below shows some various items and their cost comparison. I assume each earns the same in their given currency, which may be a stretch given the low Argentine salaries. The Argentine price compares what Argentines pay in pesos versus what Americans pay in dollars while in Argentina. The US price compares what we pay in the US and what an Argentine visiting the US would pay in their currency of pesos. (Now you can understand why they can’t travel much). The final column compares relative costs of buying something on a peso salary in Argentina versus buying the same thing on a dollar salary in the US. For example 0.35 means they pay only 35% of what we pay while 2.8 means they pay 280% of what we pay. Please let me know if this doesn’t make sense. Sorry, I couldn’t get the table formatting right and had to make it a picture file. Click to enlarge.

I remember when President Clinton was undergoing impeachment hearings and the big charge was that he lied under oath. This upset millions of Americans and really brought down the dignity of the highest office in the land. Conversely, I also remember how much of the world bawked at the charges and sarcastically remarked, “Ooohhh, he lied! How terrible.” In other words, “What’s the big deal?” Wanting to be in with the chic European crowd, many in the media echoed the sentiments and downplayed the situation. The redneck Christians and their morality apparently still had a stronghold in the northern part of the western hemisphere. Lying in America, while more and more of a problem, is still a big deal. We have contracts for everything and have to sign liability waivers to take a 5 minute bus trip, but we still like and expect honesty to some degree.

Argentina’s roots are from Spain and Italy, where it appears honesty is viewed differently. In Argentina, if you miss one day of work because of illness, generally you need to bring a doctor’s note to the boss, proving that you were actually ill. To an American this seems awfully Jr. high-ish. There is this adversarial relationship between employees and their superiors that appears to go beyond what we have. It’s expected that the employees will lie to their boss and the boss will also lie to the employees to get what they want. Wherever you go, people will make things up for whatever situation. If a laborer promises to be at your house at a certain time, not only can you count on them being late, there’s a decent chance they won’t show up–almost as if they don’t want your money. It goes beyond just the cultural difference in punctuality. There is an all-around lack of pride in keeping one’s word and taking responsibility. The ball is usually passed to someone else who must have screwed up. Whether it was at the language school between administration and teachers, the Internet company and the apartment owner, other apartment owners and the real estate company, or other situations, several times I’ve been in the middle of seemingly simple conflicts that dragged on and on because one or both parties kept lying to me.

All of the mistrust and deceit down is to the detriment of the well being of the culture and the country. Business cannot flourish in an environment where people cannot generally be relied upon to pay or follow through with their promises. People live in fear of being taken advantage of. It shows up in the corruption of the government, police, and military. The jadedness is evident in the lack of hope for the future. In marriages, men are almost expected to have girlfriends on the side. They even joke and brag amongst themselves about their latest score in the game of infidelity. I willingly admit my ignorance when it comes to Latin American history and their problems. But it really is astounding how little they look at themselves and how quickly they point the finger at the U.S. and Europe.

Think about eBay or Internet commerce as a simple example. It’s thriving and grows more every year. I would rather shop from my bedroom than go to the store any day. As long as I’m somewhat smart about it, what I buy is going to arrive at my house. And if not, there’s usually financial protection or recourse available. Internet commerce can’t work down here in the same way. First of all, how can I trust the seller will actually send me the package? Secondly, will someone steal my package while it’s en route? If there is a problem with payment, how do I know the bank isn’t lying? Will they actually come through on their pledge to protect me if there is a problem?

Take these questions and multiply them to a society-wide level and it’s easy to see the pernicious nature of lies. They eat away and make us much worse off. It’s no wonder experts always talk about how capitalism needs a strong moral base to function. I don’t say these things under any misguided notion that the U.S. is perfect by any means. We have our share of problems with deception. It’s really not possible to understand without living here, but the contrast is so clear. With more time in South America, I will try to explain myself better as I understand more and more of the cultural complexities. There is still a heritage of trust and integrity that fortifies the United States and allows us at the very least to work together.

As I slowly recounted this sad story in my best Spanish, Vanesa’s countenance became very serious. She told me this would be the one thing for which she would not be able to forgive her husband. It would be impossible to return to the level of trust or intimacy that existed before the affair, no matter the remorse demonstrated or forgiveness requested. In complete agreement, I mentioned marital unfaithfulness is the only justification for divorce mentioned in the Bible and this allowance illustrates the power of the sexual relationship. Little did I know how strongly she had been wanting someone who would be faithful to her forever.

As Paul experienced in Mexico, there exists a different social norm in Latin America when it comes to adultery. Not only is it common for men to become bored with their wives and have girlfriends on the side, it’s accepted and seen as a near necessity. Men will talk or joke about their affairs with other guys and don’t go bother trying to hide their lascivious escapades like those in the U.S. There isn’t a sense of shame or wrongdoing like that to which we are accustomed. What saddens me even more is the situation isn’t much better within the Church community. Vanesa knows only one couple that married as virgins and doesn’t know anyone that hasn’t experienced adultery in their marriage. Most have given into the lie that having a pure relationship is an impossible, antiquated notion.

Given this cultural reality, she had two fears when thinking about marriage. The first was safely marrying a libido-less, distant Christian man with whom she would not able to share the fiery passion with which God has disproportionately blessed the Latin women. The second was an inability to encounter someone who would agree with and respect her values before marriage and remain eternally faithful after taking his vows.

As I shared with Vanesa, I would rather share a lifetime of trusting and passionate love with one person than half-hearted love with many women. The power and satisfaction of such a relationship cannot be equaled by any satiation of one’s lusts. She has always appreciated my different outlook and this night only deepened her desire to be with me. Now I understand what she means when she says she doesn’t ever want to lose me. Not only does she love me, but says our relationship is the answer to every single request she made to God when praying for a husband. In her estimation, it would be impossible for an Argentine to match all the necessary criteria. My desire is to continually grow in my love for her. May God help me flee from every semblance of temptation and deal with me severely if I am ever unfaithful to her.

Another thing I find interesting is the payment system with credit cards. At any store, you can opt to break your payment up over months. This is not a Best Buy 18 months no interest type system. It’s with regular old credit card payments. Many times stores will offer to run this type of transaction for 6-12 months without interest. Even at the grocery store when buying AR$35 worth of food (around U$12), they ask me if I want to pay in one payment. Imagine a US grocery store advertising 6 months without interest on your purchase! The other option is to pay a little extra for this convenience. For example, Vanesa bought a pair of shoes that cost AR$40 ($13-$14) and opted to pay AR$46 over three months because she couldn’t afford the one-time payment. I’m trying, but doing this with payments that appear very small to me is something I cannot comprehend.

For larger transactions, the US dollar is king. For apartment rentals to foreigners and all real estate sales to whomever, transactions are in dollars. To rent my apartment, I have to withdraw a large amount of pesos over several days because of the ATM withdrawal limits on my card. Then I go to the currency exchange house to convert the pesos into dollars. Finally, I walk to the real estate office to make the cash payment. When I travel to Patagonia next month, I will take along a mix of dollars and pesos. It’s an area heavily influenced by tourists and thus everything from excursions to hostels are priced in dollars.

We didn´t have electricity on Wednesday at the school. But there were students on all 4 floors waiting for their professors to ascend the “dangerous” spiral staircase to teach their respective classes. It must have been our thirst for knowlege that compelled us to risk life and limb in order reach our classrooms. Sure it was a little dark, but it wasn´t reason enough for the professors to sit on the first floor and complain, thus depriving us of 40 minutes of prepaid classes.

One would think that after the Crisis of 2001, the Argentines would have more motivation to work hard. But such is not the case. Here they will lie about being sick to take extra time off or simply not show up for a Thursday and Friday in order to take a long holiday. As seen on Wednesday, they will also protest at the slightest thing and find a reason to avoid working. Just like in Mexico City, there are protests daily for any reason under the sun.

Because of the American work ethic and expectations on the jobsite, I can´t even begin to comprehend this attitude. Pull a stunt like this in Europe or the U.S. and you can kiss your job goodbye. My point of view also comes from the perspective of hope and optimism. I believe that for the most part, life will be better for my children and that we have unlimited opportunities available to us. Here is attitude is 180 degrees in the other direction. There is pessimism and a belief that life will be more difficult for their progeny.

Even as I write this, my Argentine friend with whom I´m chatting is telling me the rest of the world doesn´t want South America to succeed. Somehow it´s to our advantage that they remain poor or without hope. This is a pernicious form of envy disguised as public debate and intellectual thought. It´s also a platform on which political psychos such as Hugo Chavez base their campaigns.** I´m not going to even try to explain the futility and economic ignorance involved with such thinking. Maybe it´s unfair that we have the Banana Republic stereotype of Latin America. But all stereotypes are based on a lot of truth.

**Chavez is quite popular here and apparantly a hero in much of SA. People at my church told me Chavez is good friends with a church leader and is a professed Christian. They subsequently draw a parallel between George W. Bush´s alleged faith and equate our view of him to theirs of Chavez. My intellect is not capable of grasping this.

I still love singing in Spanish, but it is amusing when over 50% of the songs are translations of English songs. It just doesn´t seem right singing Hillsongs in Spanish, but we do it a lot. My favorites are those that are original Spanish songs.

Argentines are very friendly with foreigners. Everyone offers their cell phone number and email right away and tries to make me feel welcome. They are not shy about asking if I have a girlfriend or have much experience dating. People at my school are nice as well, but there is a clear distinction between them and those at church. Those at school have self-image and depression problems. They are friendly, but lacking the depth necessary to sustain this appearance. Their manner of dress also cries out for attention. I have not known people at church long enough to say so definitively, but there appears to be a genuine joy in their lives. Many do not have a lot, but you would never know it by talking with them. The style of dress they use is fashionable, but more self-respecting.

The service is very similar and dissimilar at the same time. Like the U.S., there is a lot of music and emotion involved in the service. Also, the message may be more general, with the specifics left to small groups. (For right now this is okay given my limited language ability). There is also the annoyingly ubiquitous “smile and say so and so to your neighbor.” I don´t blame them for this though. They´re only copying North Americans. I am pleasantly surprised they lack the hype or marketing we use in our youth services in the U.S. They don´t need Playstations, pro wrestlers, or giveaways to bring people to the services. Argentines here come to church for God and fellow believers. The participation level (for lack of a better phrase) is also very high. Once can look around and see 90% of the people praising God. There are very few spectators. Respect for the Holy Spirit is evident immediately. Though they are only 18-35, they don´t make fun of the movement of the Holy Spirit or look at it skeptically. There is a desire for it and God responds correspondingly. Finally, time is relevant with the services. It´s nothing to have a service lasting 2-3.5 hours. Last night we finished around 11:45 and went up to the cafe area until about 2:15.

I had read about theft here in BA and had been very watchful. Until then, I had been so careful to guard my possessions. Whenever I was at school, in a safe building with people I know, I still carried my bag with me during breaks. On the subway, I kept an eye on it at all times and kept my wallet in my front pocket. I had let my guard down for only 10-20 seconds, but that was enough for the 3rd person to completely disappear with my bag. It simply slipped my mind. The backpack itself wasn´t that valuable, but its contents were. They stole it because it was the bag of a tourist and might contain cash other things of marginal to medium value. They hit the jackpot with me. It contained my new Apple laptop, my digital camera, an external hard drive, mp3 player with headphones, bluetooth headset, maps, umbrella, and 2 water bottles. Complete devastation.

We ran around the plaza, panning the area for a glimpse of a black and gray bag, but it was on its way to who knows where in a metro area of 12 million people. I stopped to pray for a miracle, but it wasn´t to be. It felt like a scene from a movie or a bad dream that had to end soon.

I sat in the Plaza with Coral for about 20 minutes in stunned disbelief. We talked through what was in there and what was not. I still had my wallet, keys, and cell phone. Also, my passport was back home in my room. I also made a mental checklist of what was on the computer. I couldn´t think of anything that could damage me personally. There may have been a copy of my passport, but I can´t remember. Also, it is password protected, but I can´t remember if I shut it down or only put the computer to sleep by closing the lid. Basically, they had a lot of cool pictures, music, emails, contact info, and miscellaneous other info. More than likely, all this information was erased anyway.

While the financial loss was frustrating and completely avoidable, it goes much deeper than that. Things (other than pictures or files) can always be replaced. What I have is a complete sense of helplessness and loneliness. There was and is absolutely nothing I can do to remedy the situation. Someone suggested visiting an area of BA where stolen electronics often surface in various stores. However, even if I were to find it there, what am I going to do? It would cost more than buying a replacement in the US. And I couldn´t call the police and show them proof of my matching serial number because the police here are completely and thoroughly corrupt. Complete helplessness.

I went back to the school just because I needed more people with whom to share my experience. Sometimes, we just need people to feel sorry for us. Everyone there was stunned and asked if I needed anything. They consoled me and shared their frustrations with Argentina. After talking with Romina, Majo, Laura, and Natasha in the office, I went upstairs to talk with the kitchen ladies with whom I have become good friends. Rosita made me some tea to calm the nerves (theoretically), and they talked to me in a motherly fashion and gave me hugs. I also called Paul back in the US just to have another person to help me. Still, it was very difficult. I was having en emotional dichotomy which I will try my best to explain.

After concluding that those SOBs had taken my valuables, but nothing more, I set about figuring out how to learn from the experience. First of all, I was not injured. Secondly, I still have the Spanish knowledge which I came here to obtain–they could not take that from me. Thirdly, I had a place to stay and new friends I had made in BA. Finally, I tried to determine why this happened. My best answer is that life just happens and that the Devil wants to discourage me. Beyond any shadow of a doubt, I know I want and need to be in BA at this point in my life. Just like the situation with the transmission going out on my truck the day before I left, something wants me to give up and lose my determination and joy. But I won´t do it. It would be foolish, childish, and nearsighted.

Yet there is a part of me that just needs to be consoled. The part of me that can´t always be positive and try and learn from everything. Even with friends and family, there is something deeper emotionally. I´ve had a difficult week. I was sick for 4 days with no one to take care of me. My dog Kirby died on Wednesday and I was crying alone at a McDonald´s 6,000 miles from home. Then, I was robbed and had a litany of emotions that I have yet to figure out. There is a part of me that longs for companionship. I want to go back home after things like this, hug my wife, cry, and just sit with her for hours. To have someone with whom to share my experiences. I know it´s worth the wait, but this is more difficult than I can possibly explain. I’m simply tired of being alone.

I don’t believe I’m feeling sorry for myself. Anyone who knows me knows that’s not my M.O. If I am, please post a comment and tell me so. Life goes on and I’m actually surprised by how positive my attitude is right now. If you read to the end of this long entry, thanks. I just needed an outlet for my emotions.

I had hoped to receive a one year visa in order to study at the language school. After talking with the Argentine consulate in Chicago and obtaining the necessary documentation, it appeared this would not be a problem. However, when the customs agent does not speak English, and keeps repeating “tres meses” (3 months), any preparation goes out the window. Oh well. I can alternate between renewing the visa in BA and taking a trip to Uruguay.

My Argentine host mom seems nice. I can only understand about 10% of what she says, because she speaks very quickly. But today already seems better than yesterday and things will get better every day. She is very talkative, so I will have no shortage of practice opportunities during my stay with her. The apartment is clean, but small. I am able to fit all my things in my room and can squeeze into the bed if I sleep diagonally. The room also has the charming characteristic of allowing me to touch both side walls at the same time. In the US, such accomodations would annoy me. But here, it just doesn´t matter. I am completely content and grateful for this wonderful opportunity.

Eating will be interesting. Argentines are definitely not on the same food schedule as me! My host mom asked what I like for breakfast and appears adamantly opposed to having eggs for breakfast. I´m not sure why (because of the language barrier), but I think it is because of the smell or the work required to make breakfast in the morning. I had Corn Flakes with a Myoplex shake this morning to get some form of protein. I plan to eat at restaurants for the first few days or weeks until my language ability improves. After this, hopefully I can ask her about keeping some of my own groceries in the fridge. We´ll see what happens.

I met my American friend Sam last night and we walked around Recoleta and Palermo. We searched far and wide and finally found an open store to buy a SIM card for my phone. I also met another American guy from Boston and a native Argentine named J.D. that speaks perfect English. He is a partial Mormon and learned his English during two years on mission in Arizona.

It is true about people here being fashion savvy! I saw many, many nice pairs of shoes yesterday. I´m glad I brought most of my shoes along for this trip. As long as I dress well, there will be no problem fitting in–aside from my height, size, and American appearance.