Newman College has invited us for a term and we start today. It`s wet this dark morning, waiting for the combi at the corner of Esmerelda and Juncal. Luz, the school bus driver, has a big smile as she slows to pick us up. `Buen Dia Billy! Como andas Darragh!’ she warmly greets us as we board. The combi fills with sleepy students as we weave around the city picking up precious cargo.
The half-hour journey to school is a dreamy, half-way house between sleep and waking as Luz carefully negotiates six lanes of traffic on our way to San Isidro. The weather is awful and has been since we arrived. Constant rain and floods. My phone lets me know, in case I hadn`t noticed, ‘Buenos Aires 11°C ,Thunder Storm.’
The welcome at school is heart-warming. Smiling staff, male and female, embrace and kiss my son and I. The school is a community, a family. Argentinian with an Irish flavour. Many surnames are Irish – Murray, Kelly, Kavanagh. Some speak English with an Irish brogue, passed down over three generations. They are thrilled to welcome us and quip genially about the downpour on the lush rugby pitches outside; they laugh, ‘You brought this Irish weather with you, didn`t you?’ We feel at home.
Art Work by Darragh, Buenos Aires 2015