New expatriate havens crop up all the time. A few that have recently popped up on my radar screen are  Venezuela, Chile, Croatia, Bulgaria, and India. But at this rate, I´ll run out of time before I run out of countries.

And so I have decided. This is the year I will Pick One. And make my move to a new country for anywhere from six months to a lifetime. 

Some have suggested that perhaps for me, the road is home. But lately, I long more and more lately for a place where people know my name. Where I have friends who drop in to chat and find me there. For a man who knows and loves me well. For time to pursue yoga, meditation, sailing, tennis, and learning to dance the salsa beyond the beginner level. (Every time I come back to San Francisco, I have to start over again.) Mostly it´s about longing for deep connections, both with people and place, and both require time and consistency.

A reed sways most freely when it´s roots go deep. I am ready.

Is Robin in the Middle East - guess again
In January, my plane ticket said Bangkok, but I hooked a right to Buenos Aires. Why? Let's just say, that for the first time in my life, I chose work over the man. There was a job that had come up which I could do anywhere in the world where there was an internet connection. The person who would train me lived in Argentina. I walked through that door. 

I´d heard things about the "Paris of South America" that gave me pause. Things like Porteños (Argentines who live in Buenos Aires) are arrogant. That in Buenos Aires there are more therapists per capita than anywhere else in the world. That the Argentine government is as volatile as a roller coaster. And then there was matter of Buenos Aires not being a seaport town.

I went anyway and here is what I learned. There are two Argentina´s -  Buenos Aires and Everywhere Else. 

Everywhere Else includes but is not limited to: Thousands of miles of gently rolling pampas where cattle feed on a controlled diet of grasses and are hormone-free. Canals that route snow melt from the Andes and water from the high water table, to thirsty vineyards, orchards, and farms. International ski resorts in Patagonia. Hill and lake country, the world´s most awesome waterfalls, and in the Andes, the glaciers.

Rural Argentina
As the plane descended over a farming community in Mendoza, I could see the distant peaks of the Andes disappearing into clouds. And below, a patchwork of vertical, horizontal and diagonal stripes, and what appeared to be acres and acres of tree farms. The stripes turned out to be vineyards, and the tree farms, orchards.

I was invited to stay with a work colleague on her 70-acre farm thirty minutes outside of town, where one can still buy a vineyard for under $50,000. "Ellen" sold her house in England last year, and with the proceeds, purchased a farm with two houses, an old brick kiln, and a large swimming pool for under $200,000.  She built a two-bedroom home for her parents on the farm in under 11 weeks for $17,000. I am living and working in that house now and this is no shack let me tell you. 

My uniform is a bikini, and I there is a large pool 20 yards from the door Ellen´s two children, ages 4 and 6, don´t watch much TV. They´re too busy playing in the woods, catching frogs, swimming in the pool, and playing with the children across the road. The 6 year old, one year after moving to Argentina, is fluent in Spanish, and the 4 year old is not far behind.

Testing the fruit of the vine
I met a gaggle of foreigners, mostly British and American, and every one of them was either looking for a vineyard, in the process of buying one, or recently had. Beer and gin-and-tonic drinking Brits aren´t renowned for their love of wine -  but come they do anyway with pockets full of pounds from the recent UK property boom and burgeoning strength of UK´s currency. Americans are fast on their heels - each one arriving to try out their hand at gentleman or gentlewoman farming.

Completely dependent on farming as they are in these parts, I wondered, was there enough water to sus-tain it for decades to come?  If it weren´t for an ancient canal system which efficiently and amazingly delivers water to each finca (farm) and vineyard from the Andes mountains and from one of the world´s highest fresh water tables, this might be desert.  Argentina´s most valuable natural resource is its vast quantity of fresh water, both underground and above. Speculators are purchasing huge tracts of land near Bariloche and in the Patagonia´s with an eye to the day when water is more scarce and more valuable than oil. 

As for health care in western Argentina, an emergency appendectomy gave me an inside look. The equipment and facilities at the clinic where I ended up in rural Argentina, were somewhat dated but clean and functional. There was a barely functioning air cooler in only one patient room and it was 100 degrees farenheit outside.  Patients must be assisted during their hospital stay 24-7 by at least one relative or friend.The doctors looked like they´d walked off the set of a soap opera, and the nurses delivered my excised appendix, wrapped in butcher paper, to my room to take home. The sum of it is, that I was out of the hospital in three days, infection-free, and except for a Frankenstein-ish scar, healthy. And I was able to pay for the whole thing without having to be admitted again for a coronary. 

With a modest cushion of savings a foreigner can pay their own medical bills as they arise instead of paying a health insurance company more than they would actually pay if they paid for their healthcare them-selves. But for those who want coverage that includes being flown to their home country in the case of a dire emergency, health insurance is available for less than $100 per person and just slightly more per family.

Parting memories of Western Argentina

• Malbec wine - absolutely delicious,  preservative free, and under $10 a bottle. 
• What Napa Valley, California must have been like 30 years ago. 
• Tomatoes off the vine that taste like they used to when I was a child. 
• Little to no crime. Leaving the house unlocked, your car doors unlocked. What a relief. 
• Asados (Bar-b-q) where huge hunks of beef and chorizo are flipped over hot coals every summer weekend while friends and family gather round. 
• The Super Vea Market - the highlight of every trip into town, and the place to see and be seen. 
• Where a one and a half hour drive is all that is between you and river rafting through the "Grand Canyon of South America" in Las Lenas. Or skiing its slopes.  
• Thunder storms that roll in without warning, darkening the skies, momentarily illuminating them with streaks of lightening that touch down all around. With thunder so loud, that one clap sent me leaping out of bed to run into the windowless hallway, where I bumped into drenched shivering with fright Bones, the family dog. Next comes sheets of rain,  then hail like rocks on tin roofs of the houses and tender leaves of unprotected vines. All of this can occur in as little as 30 minutes to a couple of hours. The sun pops out and the whole thing is a memory. Unfortunately the damage to plants lasts much longer. 
• Locals on bicycles flowing in and out and all around the city, making driving a dodgy experience. 
• Eccentric Americans.  
• Old classic cars - not stored in the garage until the next car show, but used for taking the kids to school, for hauling the trash to the dump, or for picking up groceries. They´d rather repair and patch up the old cars, many from as far back as the 30´s,  than junk them and have to buy new ones. It´s a auto collector´s wet dream, and the auto repair business is thriving. 
• Weeping willows creating tunnels of shade over country roads. 
• The most delectable dulce de leche ice cream I´ve ever eaten too much of. 
• Where you should plan to accomplish one to two things per day, max. 
• Everything shutting down for "siesta" from 1PM to 5PM, daily, regardless. Learning to do as the locals do: to rest when it´s hottest. And go out late after the temperature has dropped. 
• Where you just may find the not so secret anymore next best to have your country home.

"Argentines are Italians who speak Spanish, act like they are French, admire the Germans, and wish they were English," - Ricardo, a Chilean who has worked and lived in Buenos Aires for twenty years. 

Buenos Aires

Galleria Pacifico Shopping Center 
I´ve been here now through through two seasons...from the hot sticky heat of summer´s end when the store windows featured manikins in flowing cotton skirts, sandals, and Liquidacion! signs, to this week´s display of sweaters and knee high boots in the season´s most popular shade,  deep chocolate. Each day I remain in Buenos Aires, I like it more. It is old Europe at Latin American prices, refined, elegant and sophisticated. Porteños dress with style and flourish. Everything in the city from buildings to furniture to statues to shoes has the mark of fine craftsmanship and fine design. 

I adore its 19th century art deco and classical french architecture. Its international mindset. Its nightlife that begins after midnight and goes on until dawn, and the huge selection of entertainment and cultural offerings from restaurants to discos to theatre to opera. I love the fact that its not just the under 29 year old set who go out - that little old ladies all dolled up can be seen sipping coffee together in cafes, bois-trous families sharing meals long after American children are in bed. And I love the Castilano Spanish resonating from the deep in the abdomen with an Italian accent.

I admire the way that Argentines deeply love their country. And I even like the way that they stress that they are different from the rest of Latin America. They are Argentines. Just ask them. 

They are graceful and well-mannered. For instance, men still walk on the curb side of the street, women inside. They greet both strangers and loved ones with a kiss on the cheek. There is nothing quite like see-ing hip, sullen teenagers cheek kissing upon arrive at school. 
I love the fact that in Buenos Aires everything can be delivered. DVD´s, beer, groceries...you name it., you call it, it´s there.  At the Disco Grocery store today, my food purchases were packed into two bins, and one hour later, delivered and unloaded in my kitchen. What a concept for urban dwellers -  anyone in San Francisco listening?

Buenos Aires (11 million strong) has a family/friend/community connection that I think I could find a spot in... At its heart is the cafe - the "taking of a coffee"  together.  Last but not least are the Argentine men who appear to have a genetic propensity for gorgeousness.

My 1-bdrm apartment is on the seventh floor of the 100-year old "Leonardo da Vinci Residence" in Barrio Norte, On the ground floor there is an art gallery topped by seven floors of apartments, each one remod-eled and decorated under the tutelage of the architect owner from Italy. I feel like a princess in mine with It´s soaring ceilings, its old tile floors, a carara marble bathroom with gold fixtures, the wall of floor-to-ceiling French doors and windows in my living room, its terrace graced with blooming nasturiums, and palms, all of it overlooking a 19th century French chateau across the street and Libertad Avenue below with its cafes, boutiques, newsstands, Italian bakeries, a gymnasium, pharmacy, night clubs - anything I need within a block or two... For a city girl like myself, it doesn´t get much better than this. 
.

Above and left -Inside my apartment in Buenos Aires Right - looking out on to the street below

There were snuggly couples in the audience and a fair number of single men and women with oh so open New Age sensual attitudes, who appeared to be scoping out the audience for partners. Hey it beat the bar scene. And talk about straining to understand every foreign word that was said in that lecture. I learned a lot of Castilano that night. 

His Holiness, the Dalai Lama was in town this week speaking to a sold-out crowd in this bastion of catholicism. 

Parting Memories of  Buenos Aires -

• A palpable feeling in the air of of possibility. 
• School-aged children running around like miniature pharmacists in white lab coats (school uniforms) 
• Fútbol games that are a matter of life and death, sometimes literally.  
• Where the price of everything tourist-related has climbed in the past three years, but local salaries have not. 
• Where I was told, "In Argentina, the woman never pays." (Hey, I can dig it.) 
• Where only the hopelessly non-hip show up at nightclubs before 2 AM. 
• Where the usual 6 degrees of separation is more like 2.  
• Where the supermarkets have lines for "Futura Mamas" (expectant women). 
• Where the beeping of a horn is a sanctioned way of saying, "You‘ve been sitting at that green light for a full twentieth of a second. Step on it!" BeeeeepBeeeeeepBeeeep. With over 40% of the population of Italian descent, you should bring earplugs. 
• Where the owners of rival restaurants, Kansas and Dallas, had a shootout over a woman. Dallas is doing time and Kansas is serving up more ribs and hamburgers to Argentines than ever. 
• Where hundreds of "Carteneros" commute two hours nightly by train into Buenos Aires to sift through its trash. They separate, organize and haul away what they want, which is everything that can be reused, re-formed, or resold.  
• Lovely fountains and parks containing historic statues sprinkled liberally throughout the city.  
• Where Argentines put their pesos into "Bricks not banks".   
• Where the most frequently requested gift for a girl´s 15th birthday is a nose job. 
• Where men dress for work in fine Italian suits, spit-shined leather shoes, and crisply ironed shirts.  
• Where women wear heels and dress in chic clothing made in South America (not China). 
• Where people still like and admire Americans (even if they do talk about how badly we dress.) 
• Where baton-armed policemen dressed like school crossing guards patrol the streets day and night. 
• Where I keep hearing it is dangerous, but it´s not. 
• Where Argentines take summer holidays at the same time of year, in the same place - Punta del Este, Uruguay - which is to Argentina, what the Hamptons are to New York. 
• Where the women and men work hard to keep up their looks, regardless of age. If plastic surgery can help, they throw that in too. "Older" women are coquettish, not matronly. 
• Where pedestrians do not have the God-given right of way. If you walk across a street on a red light, a taxi driver will accelerate and aim his car directly at you, causing you to break into an undignified jaunt to the sidewalk. (I swear this is true.) 
• Where there are no howling dogs roaming the streets at night. The dogs I saw were well-bred, groomed, and on the end of a leash.  
• Where you can work out at the gym at 10 at night, and still have time after to go home, shower, dress, and go out for the evening. 
• Where cattle is grass fed and hormone free and can practically be cut with a fork.   
• Where Argentines are known for saying in good times and bad, "Demme dos." (Give me two) 
• Where architects and designers are VIP´s. 
• The soulful brown eyes of Gustavo. His gallant manners. The day he bought me a single red rose.  
• Where so far this year, 250,000 foreign tourists have visited, up 6% from last year.  
• The Argentine poet, Jorge Luis Borges, who said,  "Buenos Aires está dentro de mì como un poema." (Buenos Aires is inside me like a poem.) 
• This might be home.