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The First Day in Argentina: Heat, Uncertainty, and a Taxi Ride
We stepped out of Ezeiza Airport with our suitcases and a heavy belly—my wife was eight months pregnant.
Lithuanian winter was behind us. We came searching for sun, peace, and a new life.
A taxi to the city cost $30. At first, I thought, “Wow, that’s cheap compared to Europe.” Then I realized I had no idea what we were getting into. No friends, no language skills, just a quiet certainty that this would be a better place for our child.
Palermo Chico: Pinterest Dreams vs Reality
I found us an apartment in Palermo Chico. In the photos, it looked like something off Pinterest. In reality—tired furniture, a leaking shower... but a balcony with a view of green trees. I told myself, “It’s just for a couple of months.” But deep down, I knew: if this works, we’re staying.
The first day felt like a blur: the heat, Spanish all around, the air thick with humidity and flowers. We ate ice cream in the street, wandered through Recoleta, and held hands. That rare moment in life when you’ve left your old world—but haven’t yet landed in the new one.
The Moment You Realize You're Not a Tourist
A couple of days later, I found a coworking space nearby and signed up for Spanish classes. I bought a SUBE transit card and felt almost local. Almost.
On our third night, I couldn’t sleep. The baby was kicking harder than usual. We lay there, staring at the ceiling, holding hands in silence.
And suddenly it hit me:
We’re not tourists anymore. We’re the ones who stay.
Two weeks later, Argentina won the World Cup. The city went wild. And so did we.
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