As you know, I left Argentina more than thirty years ago. In this time I met all kinds of fellow countrymen: tall and short, fat and slim, interesting and not so much – very many of this last kind. But I had never crossed my path with a paisano such as Oso.
I met him today at our neighbor’s, when I cross the street to return his garbage-can lid that happened to pernoctate at home on account of yesterday night’s awful wind storm.
Peter is English, and his home is in a state of perennial construction. Today a worker there had a dog with him that came over to receive me all friendly wagging tail and curiosity.
Peter thanked me, and after a bit of chit-chat he remarked that the dog was from Argentina.
Apparently, someone took him on a backpacking trip to Mexico and there they met this worker, who brought him to Victoria. 11300 kilometers in straight line - who even knows how many in our non-Euclidian reality.
It was a true honor and pleasure to meet Oso. You would have liked him.
