So basically, they live on Seattle time here

First morning in Buenos Aires, up bright and early at 10:30 am. Since the Argentines follow the Spanish tradition of eating dinner at 10 at night, I almost don't have to change my clock - to bed at 2, up at 10. Cool. My sister would do well here. For two weeks of my life, I get to be a hipster who stays out till 2 am.

The trip down didn't feel as long as I expected. Sitting in the waiting area at O'Hare, I noticed a small pack of Argentine high school students, with a chaperone not much older, returning from some kind of group trip. A trip that involved shopping, clearly. They looked pretty much like any gaggle of high school kids you might see - the girls sporting low-ride jeans and snug t-shirts that showed just a little bit of belly, and perhaps a pierced navel. I almost found them intimidating in their hipness, their confidence. I know I was once that age, traveling the world and feeling fearless in my ability to move through it, but it seems a long time ago now.

The kids also made me curious about economic class in Argentina, which continues to fascinate me and which I'll come back to at some point. I pointed them out to Megan on the way out of the airport and she said "Yeah, there are a lot of young hotties in this country. They are a little intimidating."

The flight was pretty easy - I got a good 5 hours of sleep, immigrations and customs were a breeze, and it was fabulous to see Megan waiting for me at the airport. With relatively little Spanish, she has really figured out her way around and is assisting my orientation into life as a portena, a resident of B.A. I've gotten pesos from the cash machine (though I belatedly remembered to call my bank back in the States and tell them I'm here, so they'd remove the fraud alert that was immediately triggered when I did so). So far my Spanish is serviceable if largely untested, and still peppered with Italian-isms. Brian also speaks Italian and Megan gets little kicks during cab rides quizzing us on our vocabular for things as we pass by: Come se dice en italanio "big old building?"

I still have to learn how to use the subway, which was closed down for a strike yesterday - for how long we're not sure, but Megan has heard there is a cab in this city for every four portenos, so transportation isn't really a problem.

Megan is also educating me in the ways of food and meals here. Because portenos sleep so late, they don't eat breakfast to speak of - some bad coffee or the local herb drink, mate, and a little bread. (No Starbucks here.) Then lunch, siesta (when many but not all business close down), and a little meal around 6 pm that Megan refers to as "chocolate o'clock." It consists of chococate cake (or french fries, in a pinch), and red wine. I'm still new here, but I suspect Megan just made this meal up. Most Argentines are working until 7:00 pm or so. But it's definitely time to eat and drink something that isn't dinner yet. Then, dinner around 10. The dinner rush seems to hit at 11.

Last night we ate at a seafood/sushi restaurant, and dinner for three of us with wine and tip was 105 pesos, or $35. Megan says a teacher at her Spanish school here told the class she works 3 jobs and earns about 800 pesos a month, of which 300 pesos goes to rent. Argentina had an economic meltdown about 4 years ago, and although I've read news reports about how "well" it is doing economcally - largely in spite of , or perhaps because of, ignoring the advice of the IMF and other world finance heavyweights - I wonder what that means, exactly. Who are the Argentines who are eating dinner with us at that restaurant? What are the financial cirumstances of the average Argentine? You walk around the city and in many ways you could be in New York - people of all fashion sensibilities, income, age; the crazy traffic; the constant sense of summer grime accumulating on your skin.

No sightseeing has happened yet - yesterday was about orientation, a nap, and some errands. The city itself presents an odd mix of European feel, and developing country - I can't quite put my finger on it yet, but there's no doubt it's an intriguing place. Yesterday we stopped in a used book store, which displayed old-looking books in a multitude of languages marked "16th century," encased in glass, right next to a stack of used English-language Sunset magazine home decoration guides - Stencilling Walls, Fashionable Floors.

"That," said Megan, "is Argentina for you."

I don't yet know quite what she means by that, but I'm going to relish finding out.