The first time we went to Niño Bien, it was unbearably hot. In addition our table was covered with an ever-growing pile of flyers for other milongas. Through the haze of humidity, our fevered brains combined the two, and we decided that the way to make our first million in Argentina would be to set up a business printing advertisements for milongas on to chinese fans - we had no use for a pile of flyers, but would have paid for a fan. If the various advertisers were giving them away, we would have taken one, and taken it home (unlike the flyers, which we used for coasters and didn't even read).

Later, I realized that Xmas was just around the corner, and although I could escape Xmas shopping in general (being far away from all the relatives and friends to buy for), really I should buy A something. I wasn't really expecting anything from her (wrong about that, it turns out), but I had sudden flash of inspiration and decided to buy her a nice antique fan for milongas.

I wondered to myself how I might get an opportunity (we're living in each-other's back pockets at the moment), but then she suddenly had a secret mission to accomplish without me, so I took that opportunity to wander in search of an antique shop. It was a matter of minutes, and a short demonstration by pantomime (no knowing the word for 'fan'), before I was perusing a collection of fans, one of which was old and beautiful, and the others were either cheap and nasty or old but dilapidated. The choice was clear. The man in the shop assured me it was wood, handpainted, and from (I think I understood this) the 1930's. $50ARP later, I wasn't sure if I'd been ripped of, but there was the more pressing problem of hiding it from A for the subte ride home.

So for the hour or so before we got home, it was tucked marginally uncomfortably in my sock, while A looked (as usual, in vain) for a new top. She didn't find a top she liked, but what did she buy, for $2 from a street vendor? A fan!

Spanish word for the day: fan = abanico