WWWDWN

What would we do without Nick? Well we certainly would have less friends, and I certainly would speak a whole lot less Spanish, and we would not be living in Casa de Cochobamba. Likewise we would not have been invited to our second real asado at a porteño's house. After playing pick up Frisbee on Saturday we headed over to watch some of the game that was going on. Sebastian (Sebas), one of Nick's best friends in Argentina (who also happens to be his boss) was about to leave and we did the whole: "Oh, what are you doing tonight?" exchange. As luck would have it we had no plans and he was having an asado. He invited the four of us (at this point Jessica was there as well but had other plans) on the spot and I sent daggers from my eyes to Nick's as he walked the maybe line between yes and no. "Yes, yes, YES!!!" my eyes attempted to shout as I wiggled my eyebrows attempting in every possible way that this would be the best thing EVER for us to do tonight. After a second he said, "Yea, why not?" and I did a little dance, more subdued than the dance Nick performed for the Superbowl's ending, but a little dance none the less.
We arrived late having taken the wrong bus and the intimate party was underway with a picada plate, or a plate of meats and cheeses. The crowd was mixed: Porteño couple, other porteños, girl from the US dating one of the porteños, a girl from the US whose mom is from PR and speaks fluently, Nick, Josh y yo (me). Needless to say there was much Castillano, and I was lost for much of the night, but more on that later.
The food was amazing, and I again found myself in a really beautiful house, welcomed by someone who barely knows me and me him, and greeting with delicious food and wine. The house is amazing and so full of books other collected things there seemed to be room for little else. There was a lifetime of stuff, and then some and I didn't even wander the upstairs rooms. As I tuned out of the Spanish chatter I thought to myself yet again how ridiculously lucky I am to be here and how fantastic that in less than five months I have weaseled my way into these intimate places only locals know.
Later that night, after the dishes were washed and the crumbs wiped away, the porteño couple graciously taught us how to play Truco, the classic Argentine game requiring a special deck that we had bought accidentally in one of our first weeks here while searching for cards. I say graciously because it is INVOLVED. Josh had already learned from our new roommates, and luckily was there to translate the lot to me because without him it would have been hopeless for me to follow the kilometer a minute explanations in Castillano. There are tons of rules, the point system seems to have no particular order, and when played with four people instead of two there seem to be twice as many rules and face signals to exchange info about what cards you have. Eyebrows were raised, mouths twitched away, and noses were shrunken and my team won!! Girls rule...
Then, as if we hadn't been lucky enough already, we headed out of the door and towards the car of one of our professors de Truco. We thought we would kiss good bye and walk to the bus in the down pour, but no, we were to be driven in the most opposite direction from this guys house and dropped off half a block from our tricky iron door. We fell asleep full and content with our social escapades and rested up for the arrival of Zach and Evelyn.