Security for Flying Elephants

The doors here mean business. They´re big, heavy, solid things that probably don´t even love puppies. The door to this house is inches thick. I think it might be some kind of re-inforced metal in the middle. It swings real smooth, though, clearly there is WD 40 down here.

And I have never seen more decorative iron in my life. No house or shop goes without swirly iron bars. I guess it´s the catty way of saying keep the fuck out. At night, to go into the minimart, they have to unlock the metal bar doors to let you in. But the doors are broken and not actually attached to anything, so it´s really pretty funny to watch the dude lift the whole door away to let you in, and then fuss with it to wedge it back into its little crevice.

I live on the second floor above a 15 foot flat wall, and even my littlest window is covered in ¨decorations¨ that also conveniently keep even the most daring flying elephant safely on the other side.

Not to mention our house laser security system that I´m SURE I´m going to drunkenly screw up at 4:00 am sometime within the next week. The police are going to show up and I´m going to be frantically pressing buttons and begging to know why there is suddenly three of every number on the keypad.

The first few days my sister walked the town with me to teach me how to exchange money. Carefully. Like the Argentine that I´m not.

... It should be noted that obviously she wasn´t teaching me how to find my way back from the center of town. Never fear, I still have absoultely no idea where I´m going ever. Not that it´s her fault. I mean, seriously, when Chuck Norris is confronted with my sense of direction, he can´t even roundhouse kick it.

PS: I love maps.