Chapter 30 Argentina, here we are! “Remember, it’s all an impression of dejà-vu.” “Buenos Aires – what a city!” Dan exclaimed when he, Gustavo and Damianos returned to their hotel after a long walk downtown. “If I thought Rome was grandiose, or Boston most modern, I find Buenos Aires amazing.” “Well, I am certain your father felt the same when he and his brother, Franco arrived in the mid-1900s,” Damianos rejoined. “After living in a village such as Castelnuovo, I am sure a big city like Buenos Aires must have opened their eyes.” “I think what is amazing to me,” Gustavo put in, “is the fact that half of the population seems to own a motor vehicle. Is that a sign of progress or has it something to do with your standing in the community?” “A little of both I suspect,” Dan answered for Damianos. “When we went past the garage with the new Cadillac models and I talked to the owner, he told me that people around here want a comfortable and speedier means of transport these days.” They were now sitting in the dining room of a posh hotel, waiting for their meal to be served. “Yes, and I think the garage owner was right,” Damianos rejoined, “People are avid of progress. All around the globe nations are coming out of the dark ages. Perhaps North and South America are at the forefront of progress since they are driven by a need to build a future for themselves after emigrating from Europe and elsewhere.” “We saw the same happening in Colombia and it felt as if the entire nation was in need of growing up,” Gustavo remarked. “But tell me, Damianos, why did my father and Uncle Franco decide to move to Argentina instead of Brazil or Venezuela or even Colombia, such as Generoso did?” “Ah yes, very good question,” Damianos answered, reclining in his chair. “You see, your father’s elder sister had immigrated to Buenos Aires already. Therefore, it was logical for the brothers to move to where their sister was located.” Damianos stopped talking when a young woman brought their plates to the table. “Thank you, senorita,” he said, throwing her a big smile. As the waiter brought the wine, he cracked a smile at Dan. “Will there be anything else, gentlemen?” he asked in perfect English, which surprised the three companions. “No, nothing, thank you,” Damianos replied, lifting his gaze to the fellow. “But tell me; where did you learn to speak English so well?” “My mother is English, senor. She would not let me forget it. And now I’m grateful for it.” “Very good,” Dan said, nodding. “I’m sure you’ll need it if you pursue a career in the hostelry industry.” “Yes, that’s what I intend to do, but not here…” “How do you mean?” Gustavo queried. “You mean not in this hotel…?” “No, senor, not even in this city. I am intending to move to Venezuela in a couple of months. I figure I will have a better chance to climb the ladder in hotel management in Caracas than I would do here.” “Why would that be? Buenos Aires seems to be a very modern and vibrant city…” “Oh yes, it is, senor, but there are many established families here and it’s very modern, but it’s still cold in the winter. The tourists much prefer staying where it’s warm on their vacation.” “I guess that would be important, yes,” Gustavo agreed. “I couldn’t imagine spending any vacation where it’s pouring rain every day.” “Anyway, gentlemen, don’t let me keep you,” the young man said. “Enjoy your meal,” he added as he walked away from the table. Silence fell between the three men, as they ate their meal, until Dan said, “It’s quite interesting, though, to see the huge gap between the rich and poor there is.” He was eating with appetite. He loved good cuisine, and this meal was certainly well prepared. “Either you’re very rich or you’re down-trodden poor.” “Exactly, Dan. And this is a disease affecting most of the South American countries for the past two centuries at least. Whether Venezuela was a progressive country at the time, the imbalance between wealth and poverty was present, and still is, I’m afraid.” “And, of course, this sort of gap between two extremes invites corruption, doesn’t it?” “Yes, it does, Dan. But we’re not here to analyze the political malaise afflicting the continent; we are here to relive the past lives of two of the most prominent Ricciulli ancestors.” “There is something that just popped into my mind, Damianos,” Dan said. “Oh, and what’s that?” “Well, I heard you mention that my father and my Uncle Franco were very young when the family moved to Argentina…” “Yes…, well, they were not exactly children either. Arnaldo, your father was about sixteen years old and your uncle was twenty-one. But do go on, what was your question…?” “I was wondering if I was ever to relive the life of a child or is that something that does not happen?”

• published: 16 Apr 2016
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