Sunday morning I woke up feeling pretty bad. Kinda like I had a bad hangover except there was no drinking the night before. I'm pretty sure the culprit was the meds I on and the fact that I had to up the dose on Saturday night. But that's another story for another time. I spent most of the morning just laying around reading (I'm going through an insane amount of books now that I have my kindle back!) but figured I should probably leave the house at some point.
I walked around my neighbrohood for a bit trying to find any type of food that looked good. There is a little food court type area somewhat close to me and I figured it was my best shot since it had so much variety. As it turned out, the Argentinian version of Chinese food not only looked good, but tasted good, which is kind of a feat for me these days (another lovely side effect of the meds, but I digress.)
I was really happy and feeling a bit better after eating so I decided to walk around some more and do some exploring. I bought some fancy looking chocolates at cute little store next to one of my favorite new ice cream places. I then took the change from my chocolate purchase to the ice cream store to buy a cold water. I handed the woman 20 pesos (a little less than $4) and she looked at me and said "Falso!" Which I could only take to mean that the sweet little chocolate shop had given me fake currency. I was so mad! So I walked right back over there, showed the bill to the woman who'd given it to me and luckily instead of arguing with me (like I was expecting, I'll admit) she apologize profusely, tore it up and handed me a different bill.
I asked around at work if this is common and they said yes, for tourists. Ha. So I'd imagine this will not be my last experience with counterfeit currency while I am here! I tried to get her to show me how to tell that the bill was fake, and she did, but I don't think I'd be able to recognize it on my own. To me it was very subtle.
On a differnet topic, on most mornings to and from work the "remise" driver (remise = private taxi) plays either music in Spanish or the news in Spanish. I always try to listen as I'm trying desperately to learn and can only ever pick out words so far, and even that is few and far between.
This morning however, I was in the car, listening away and relaxing when all of the sudden I realized I could understand a little bit. And for a split second I was so excited! Was my Spanish really getting better? Could I really understand more than one word? Um, NO. Turns out this particular radio station likes to throw in a bit of Sting every now and again. I am an idiot. I could understand him because he was singing in English. I'm just glad I didn't try to share my excitement over my budding language skills to the remise driver. I was embarassed enough in my own head.
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