(Read from Part I and Part II)

Another doctor, another speedy eye exam, another prescription written, and I was on my way back to Dr. Pförtner’s. He had everything I needed ready to go. He gave me a hug and told me that he was so pleased to meet me and to come back for a check-up before I left Argentina if needed. I left the eyeglass boutique $250 in the hole (paid for by Daniel) and enough contact lenses to last me a few months.

As Pablo told Alberto to take us back to the embassy, I couldn’t help but breathe a huge sigh of relief. In less than 5 hours, Daniel had helped me to solve all of my problems – he aided me in getting a new passport, bought me new contacts to use on my shoot, and given me enough cash to last me the rest of my trip. I couldn’t help but feel infinitely grateful and lucky at the same time. Had I been anywhere else in the world, I most likely would have been in serious trouble.

My final return to the US embassy was pleasant as I chatted out front with other American women whose purses had been snatched as well. They were in relatively good spirits and managed to laugh off their situations just as I did. They recounted their tales and spoke of the hospitality and kindness of the people of Buenos Aires. We all commiserated with one another and somehow it helped us to all understand that sometimes these things just happen. It’s not because we’re stupid or careless, it’s just because we were at the wrong place at the wrong time and we let our guard down.

Walking away with my emergency passport, my phone, a fresh set of contacts, and Alberto waiting for me actually made me feel liberated.  Yes, someone could steal something material from me, but they couldn’t steal my ability to recover and move on as if nothing had happened. I felt stronger for the experience and more confident in myself for being able to handle the situation with a smile on my face and a sense of accomplishment in my heart.

I returned to the hotel an hour before I was due to leave for my night shoot. I locked everything important in the room’s safe and took a few minutes to relax before joining the crew in the van around 5:30pm.

The shoot itself went smoothly. We drove about 30 minutes into the city and shot at a gorgeous mansion with a beautiful pool. Manuela, the hair and makeup artist, made me chuckle as she sung the lyrics to a Madonna song blasting from her iPod. I was shooting eveningwear, so Manuela gave me glamorous smoky eyes and long flowing tendrils (which were achieved with the help of my extensions, of course.) I shot in the pitch-black dark, the flash of the photographer’s camera illuminating the garments I was wearing, a hint of the pool’s perimeter in front of me, and the large white columns of the house in the background.

When I returned home from the shoot at around 12am, I had received a twitter message from someone I did not recognize. It read, “Make yourself happy, I found your passport.” Obviously the timing was a bit off, but I was excited at the prospect of getting any of my belongings back. I messaged him immediately and he sent me a return email in Spanish, which I had the front desk translate for me. He said he worked for a trash company and had found some of my things. He offered to return them if I was willing to pay his cab fare. I was eager to get whatever I could, so I agreed.

The next afternoon, the front desk informed me that someone had dropped off a small pouch for me. Inside was my passport, all of my credit cards, business cards, reward cards, my driver’s license, the keys to my apartment, my support socks (random and funny, in my opinion), and my eye shades. I was so happy for what was returned but still felt my heart ache a bit as I noticed my diary’s absence. I wrote him a follow-up email thanking him for his time and trouble, offering him additional money if he could retrieve my diary, but unfortunately, it was nowhere to be found.

After another night of shooting at another breath-taking mansion with a divine pool, I was finished with work and ready to explore Buenos Aires with my new friend Soledad. I had assumed Soledad was one of Daniel’s assistants, but I was mistaken. She was a well-rounded medical journalist with some extremely impressive credits to her name. I was looking forward to learning more about Argentina from a local’s perspective.

Soledad had created an itinerary for us for the duration of my stay. Landmarks, different neighborhoods, and special restaurants had been carefully selected for me based on my preferences. The following three days turned out to be more than I could have ever expected.

In those three days, I saw more of Buenos Aires than I thought possible. Soledad, Liz (Daniel’s actual assistant), and myself went to a dazzling tango show complete with a 3-course dinner and a delicious bottle of wine. Soledad took me to the cemetery where Eva Peron was buried. She took me via a luxury bus tour to see Casa Rosada in Plaza de Mayo, to the Obelisco, to the oldest government building in Argentina, to La Boca, to a beautiful antique warehouse, and much much more. We shared coffees, ice creams, lunches and unforgettable dinners together. We even managed to get ourselves smack dab in the middle of two (not just one) protests going on by visiting tourist sites at the wrong time of day. We took ridiculous pictures and disobeyed the tourist guide’s rules by staying at each location longer than we were supposed to.

Liz also turned out to be a serious fashionista and spent an entire afternoon taking me to the ritzy boutiques in Palermo SoHo and helping me pick out a beautiful new leather carry-on bag and a scarf I just couldn’t pass up from Rapsodia. Soledad was equally just as skilled of a shopper. She took me to quaint little shops in San Telmo where I was helpless to the street artists’ beautifully crafted earrings and bracelets.

The three of us had our last meal together at a Mexican restaurant not too far from my hotel. We couldn’t help but giggle as we sipped on margaritas and listened to the Mariachi band croon to us. I even stole one of their sombreros, wore it proudly on my head, and made a poor attempt to sing along with them. As our dinner wound down, I felt sad. In only a few days, I had grown to adore these two women and wished they could be more permanent fixtures in my life. I was so thankful for them – for how comfortable they made me feel, for how much time they had spent with me, and for their genuine hospitality.

When I left the following day, giving them each tight hugs and missing them already, I couldn’t have felt more fortunate. Not only did Soledad and Liz give me the trip of a lifetime, but Daniel had also made it all possible. I felt completely indebted to all three of them.

When I left Argentina that evening, I felt like a changed person. They had taught me so much about myself, about other people, and about their culture. They had transformed a negative situation into an experience I know I will look fondly back upon for decades to come. They were able to show me something that I don’t think can be taught. To live this life and be surrounded by people like them is a blessing. I know now that Buenos Aires will always hold a special place in my heart. What a journey, what an adventure. This is living la vida loca, but I’ve gotta say, it really is la belle vida.

Read Amanda’s Last post: La Vida Loca, Part II and Part I

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