Fun times

I keep nearly writing a blog, and then something else happens, which might also make an equally un-interesting blog entry except that by the time I’m about to write that one, yet a different thing has occurred ad infinitum.
Domestic excitements have included applying for a replacement bank card having left mine in a cash machine in Buenos Aires (I think at least), and attempting to rediscover our house following the departure of the cousins.

kids in tentI’d pitched our tent in the garage for the kids to camp out in, which was a great success despite our neighbours being horrified that I would do such a dastardly thing as to make my own family sleep in the garage. In fact some of the not-so-small kids among us took to snuggling in and sharing story time in the evenings.

So there was all that to dismantle, which was a good thing really as it gave me a chance to re-label the poles in a way that actually corresponds to the configuration that they need to be pitched in (unlike when they left the factory; more Argentinean manufacturing). I haven’t got round to answering or dealing with the 60 or so emails in the inbox from the last few weeks, although I have just now put the photos into folders. These ones aren’t mine, they were taken by a bunch of nuns we met on the train to Cosquin and emailed on to us. Nuns are high-tech these days.

us on the trainsnow in Cosquin

On the work front I went to Quebracho Herrado five times in the last week, was welcomed with open arms in the primary school, and for a couple of days entertained a group of short-termers from YWAM (Youth with a Mission) or JCUM as they are known here (juventud con una mission) who had thought they were coming for a full-blown evangelistic campaign in Quebracho but we disabused them of that idea fairly swiftly, and they ended up playing guitar in the plaza with some of the village yoof which was probably far less damaging more constructive than if they’d gone door knocking.

This week’s fun activity will be to register our car in our name. This is no V-whatsit, sign on the dotted line, stick the whole thing in an envelope and forget about it, oh no, this is a full-blown Argentinean paper-work event which will have taken three person-days by the time we have finished (please God don’t let it take any longer than that!!) So far we have been to the vehicle registry, the police-station, the stationary shop (carbon paper and photocopying), the bank and the tax office. Apparently you have to have a personal tax code in order to own a car, no don’t ask me why. We managed to shorten our trip to the tax office by recognising one of the employees, who immediately ushered us past the first queue, which probably saved two hours’ waiting. Unfortunately our stay was then elongated slightly by the tax-office’s computer whose error message insisted that being British was incompatible with having residents’ documents for Argentina, no we never found out why, but a more experienced colleague found a work-around otherwise presumably we would still be there arguing the toss. We still have two more forms to complete in triplicate, hence the carbon paper, and then we need to take those plus all the other evidence of our previous paper-chasing back to the vehicle registry tomorrow.

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