Marina is gone. She left us (again) about a month ago and disappeared into the mists and fog of rain-drenched Buenos Aires. She said she was going back to Germany, where she insisted she was not from. Marina Zubkova claimed she was Russian, but as far as I know, no one ever verified that by looking at her passport. We had a lot of people passing through Puerto Limon claiming to be one thing or another. Writers with no laptops, Swiss bankers trying to borrow other people’s cell phones to communicate with Panama; you never knew. But Marina probably was Russian. For one thing, she knew how to make borscht. And even though she spoke fluent German, she never wanted to be referred to as a German. So of course, we all borrowed a line out of Fawlty Towers: “Don’t mention the war!”
We loved Marina. We still do. We have dozens of photos of her holding her hands in front of her face when she thought we were taking her picture. Marina got teased a lot, but she always rose to the occasion, and we all got accustomed to her querulous voice rising to the pretend accusations, both parties betrayed by the shitty grins on their faces. Marina is very bright (English is her third or fourth language), and very diligent, responsible, and supremely organized. That’s why we wondered if she wasn’t secretly a German. Marina never shirked her duty. But the Russian in her could never admit things were good. Marina never had enough rest, and if you pointed out the good things that were happening, Marina’s rejoinder always began with “Yes, but . . . ” When Marina went out with a group, like any Marine, she always made sure everyone got home safe. She never left anyone behind.
Marina always gave back. She ate my bananas, but she taught me Excel. And if I asked her for help, she never turned me down. She would even apologize for making me wait sometimes until she could get to it. She taught me how to use my camera. If something didn’t work right, she couldn’t leave it alone until she figured it out. She never refused a beer.
Marina left us once before, and she left us a good-bye note, which I have reproduced below. Every single line of her note refers to a real episode that happened during her stay, memorable experiences that live on in our collective memories. We’ll let you use your imagination:
“For those who are hungover: just read the last sentence – it pretty much sums up everthing i wanted to say.
For those who are still drunk: read it while you still can.
And for the rest: you’re doing something wrong right now ;).
I don’t believe in destiny and I never felt like coincidences are a part of life. So I don’t know how to categorize this…but the thing is I don’t have to. I just wanted to thank you all for being in the right place at the right time.
If you think now that I’m going to write a heartfelt goodbye-letter… come on, people…haven’t you spend enough time with me to know better?
Instead I want to share a couple of things I’ve learned living in Puerto Limon. Some things you should and definitly shouldn’t do:
1. If you’re checking in at 4 a.m. and there is an old guy sleeping in a chair under a sign that reads: “I’m Max. I’m the cat and this is my spot”….Don’t check in!
2. If you’re checking in at 4 p.m. and the police is chasing a bipolar guy through the hostel…what is there to think about?…DON’T CHECK IN! Damn it!!!!
3. If you’re planning to check out some time soon, avoid all eye contact with other people…especially the staff.
4. If you don’t want a conversation to end up being about politics then avoid talking about the following topics:
coffee, cheese, cabdrivers (it doesn’t help if you are one either), books, movies, art, air, argentina, chess, sports, likes and dislikes, german cities, wine, beer, etc.
5. If you want your food to be stolen from the kitchen then make sure to write your name with huge black letters on it.
6. If you’re sick and have a death wish – go to a public hospital in Boca. The staff there is very friendly and eager to help you.
7. Don’t ever fall asleep in the common room! There is always a creepy stalker waiting around to touch you.
8. If you want to go out with a group of people make sure not to get ready simultaneously. It ruins the fun of waiting 3 hours.
9. After drinking more than 6 litres of beer make sure to wear a parachute when going to bed. [Editor’s note: especially if you’re assigned to the top bunk]
And last but definitly not least:
10. Don’t start the day by making any plans.
I do realize that for most of you the advise is a little to late… but maybe there is hope for the next guy.
Thank you for putting up with my crap for so long.
With love, Mirinda.”
John,
Thanks for sharing another one of your interesting/eccentric friends with us.
I want to know a little more about Buenos Aires.
Do you feel as if you belong there ? Is you Spanish good enough to have a conversation ? Are you feeling more distant from the US ?
Are you following the transition here ? How do people in BA view what is happening in the US ?
Or are they oblivious to what goes on outside their Country ?
Congrats on the book being published – must have been fascinating project.
Phyl.
Hi Phyl, and thanks for reading. Buenos Aires is a big/little town. Only about 3 million people, but during the day another 10 million come in from the suburbs to work, so traffic is a nuthouse. BA is steeped in local culture and history. The whole country has a strong orientation toward Marxism and a lot of things here simply don’t work or work well. There’s lots of free education, but it seems the universities breed people who don’t know how to earn a living but who run around a lot protesting and yelling “Vive la Revolucion!” There seems to be a lot of machismo and not a lot of common sense. Che Guevara was an Argentinian and he is still a national hero. I always thought of him as a thug and common criminal. As for me personally, I have no personal identification with anywhere in particular. It’s just not in my DNA. I truly do feel like I am a citizen of the world, and I like the sense of freedom. I have neglected my Spanish and I know now I am not going to learn it until I leave this hostel and go to parts of the country where they do not speak any English and then I have to just plunge in. And that is part of my plan going forward. When I left the States I was so sick of the intellectual dishonesty of the mainstream media that I swore I would never have to listen to CNN ever again. And I haven’t. Things are pretty much the same here, but for the moment at least, I don’t know what the Spanish commentators are saying, so it doesn’t bother me. No, I don’t feel more distant from the U.S. Actually, I don’t feel anything. I have never gotten homesick for anywhere, and I am very intellectually engaged here with my writing. My productivity is rising, even with all the interruptions of hostel life. I am amazed at the huge variety of people I have met here. A smattering of idiots, of course, but also a smattering of very bright people who I am sure will make a difference wherever they go in the world. To date, I have met people from 40 countries right here in the hostel. Are Argentinians following the election transition in the States? Probably not. They were all aghast that Trump won, and some were so alarmed I couldn’t resist teasing them and encouraging them to write home and tell all their friends who were young parents to hide their babies because Trump was coming to get them. I was being sarcastic, but in effect poking fun at the gross exaggerations and hubris coming from the States. The people who go through here have strong political opinions, but not generally about the U.S. They are very into their own local scene back home, wherever that is. IMO, the political scene in America is very ugly and I don’t miss it.I have not been following the transition, and nothing at all would surprise me. America, and the world, are very dangerous places right now, and very little is what it seems to be. With people from every corner of the world tracking through this hostel, I do hear a lot of news from the street that doesn’t seem to make mainstream news at all. Journalism seems to be dead and every reporter is a rabble-rousing demagogue. If there is any kind of consensus at all, it is that no one anywhere has very much confidence in their governments or the media in their home countries. That’s probably more than you asked for, but that’s the best I can do. Thanks for commenting!
Beautiful writing John 🙂 …. you should suggest to management to make t-shirts for game nights and imprint some of these rules because they are so true.I miss you , my travels are coming to an end in 2 weeks time …. you are on my top5 of the best and most genuine people I have met in 3 months . I always plan on writing a personal note to you , I will get to it soon when hangover is not a part of my everyday anymore .
Thanks for checking in, and stay in touch. I’m sure your travels have been a life-altering experience and something you will never forget. You know how to find me. Send a photo or photos, of some of the places you have been.Travel well!
Puerto Limon must be a very awkward place without Marina’s laughter filling every corner <3 hope you're all doing well!
And your smiling face, Enya! Please keep me posted of new developments with your career and performances. If you get any good new photos, please share them! We are part of your fan club! No one will ever believe us when we tell them that we knew you when you were poor! 🙂
It has been a great source of satisfaction, comfort, and intellectual development that John has given me that has enhanced my life; this through his friendship, writings, and thoughtful emails. This has been ongoing for any number of years. A file folder is dedicated to articles he has written: business expertise, culture, food, and travel articles. When he thoughtfully sent 2 issues of Scandinavian Press, his articles were so entrancing it became necessary to obtain my own subscription, and the latest issue also included a number of his articles. All of them written in an erudite, comprehensive, informative, manner. Of course, all well researched.
John has an attribute I find so sadly lacking in every day living, that of transmitting ideas that give me things to think about rather than “fluff” writing that demands no thought. Anyone who reads his extraordinary writing is most rewarded.
Maybe I’m blushing, but thank you, Shirley. That’s high praise from someone as literate and well-read as yourself. I haven’t seen you in years, so it is gratfying to know you are still among my loyal readers!