When I first arrived in Santiago de Chile from Argentina, I found myself much more comfortable with the Argentine tourists. For one thing, I could understand them when they talk and they could understand me. I was dying for a mate and trying to explain to some gringos what makes it so amazing when I was some women drinking mate at the hostel. I asked if I could joing them and I ended up hanging out with them and a bunch of other Argentines for the next few days.
We made an Argentine asado. The blonde and I are the only non-Argentines.
The buses are part of a set designed as part of a story with a giant marrionette.