Some people worry that our road-schooled child will become an introvert and socially inept. I think we may need to worry about the opposite. He needs to talk to everyone, and given the opportunity, will jump on a stage and dance with Argentine folkloric dancers.
We had the motor in, but we were still waiting for the muffler to be finished. So, for a test run, Beto took us to the rodeo. Our old muffler was in such bad shape that the ride without it didn’t seem much louder.
I’m from Texas, and pretty familiar with the stereotypical cowboy. My friend Bill and I even worked at a beer promo booth at the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo one year, and boy do we have stories. But this was a whole different type of affair. First, the clothes. Not a single western cowboy hat, but a quite a variety of sombreros. Snappy berets, even. And these guys dressed sharp – no jeans.
The tie-the-animal-to-a-pole method of getting on before the wild ride starts is in use here too – exactly what we saw in Nicaragua. And, there was no nut-crunching on the animals – they were wild and blindfolded for the bronco bucking and bull riding events.
We crammed into the stands with thousands of families with their mate kits and picnic baskets. Afterwards, it was time for some food. Beto ordered us up a giant parrilla, which is a basically a big meat-fest and some wine. Everyone had a bottle of wine at their table – no beer at this rodeo.
We sat right next to the entertainment stage, which is where Bode decided that perhaps folk dancing was his best bet to get some admiration (we wouldn’t let him ride a bull.) The crowd ooh-ed and ahh-ed at his eagerness to join and the cuteness-factor was off the charts. He was even interviewed for the local news.
This was a completely Argentinean affair which we would never have encountered without our friend, Beto. I absolutely love days like this.