#25: Mail call

One of my favorite things about being a human is having the ability to send and receive letters or care packages. As the world we live in continues to eschew more analog forms of communication, taking the time to sit and write a note to someone that you care about, seal it in an envelope, put a stamp on it, and send it off into the postal ether feels like one of the most caring things one can do.

To me, at least.

I was raised to write thank you notes for everything — on monogrammed stationery, naturally. As a kid, before the last guest had even left my birthday party, I was perched at the kitchen counter, pen in hand, expressing written gratitude to everyone who had been to my soiree and/or sent a gift. It’s just good manners, my mom would say. And of course she’s right. Only heathens don’t write thank you notes.

As I grew older, what was once a chore evolved into a genuine pleasure. Few things bring me more joy than picking up a box of beautifully-designed (or quirky, or clever, whatever) notecards. Sitting down to write a “just because” note (or even better, a love note that will be tucked away into a pocket or bag and discovered at a later, unknown date) almost feels rebellious in the age of relentless WhatsApps, emails, and Instagram DMs.

And don’t even get me started on how much I hate that so many people use ChatGPT (or any other random AI horror) to produce things meant to express their own, human feelings!!!!111

But I digress.

I had no idea that one of my favorite pastimes could be challenged by the limitations of logistics and South American inefficiency. After years of relying on — and deeply appreciating! — the USPS, I was faced with an entirely new beast: el Correo Argentino.

I don’t need to go into a play-by-play evolution of what it’s been like to try to send or receive mail in Argentina. Those of you that live here already know what I’m talking about, and for those that don’t, I assume your interest level hovers somewhere close to zero.

Before I learned to tell people to please, please, please NOT send me anything that didn’t come in a standard size letter envelope, I recall entire mornings spent down at the Correo Central building down near Retiro, an area that would certainly pop up if you were to search for “No Man’s Land” in a dictionary or on an atlas of some sort.

Straining to hear a 25 digit-long code over a crackly loudspeaker, clinging to a flimsy piece of paper, hoping that I wouldn’t miss my turn. Interfacing with power-trippy customs employees who could either hurry your package along (and thus, save the day) or condemn you to postal purgatory for all eternity (day/week/month absolutely ruined).

📮 The Postal Plights of Living Abroad

The other day, a friend posted this on Twitter and unintentionally inspired the entirety of this newsletter:

She writes:

“The things that my friends who live in Europe ask me to bring them, it’s like they’re inmates at the Ezeiza prison.”

The evidence:

Screenshots of WhatsApp messages asking for things like a bombilla de mate (pictured below), Ibuprofen, and of course an alfajor (also pictured below).

🛃 10 Things I’ve Had Muled Down to Argentina

When you live abroad, you grow accustomed to asking friends, family, and sometimes near-strangers to do you a favor and save room in their suitcase for creature comforts, nostalgic treats, or basic necessities that you can’t otherwise find in your adopted home.

Maybe it’s because you simply can’t find these items, or perhaps they’re so ridiculously expensive that it’s hard to justify the local purchase. Maybe you’re feeling homesick and craving your favorite candy bar; maybe you can’t risk having important things getting lost in the shuffle, stolen, or arriving well beyond their intended due date.

For the record, I have zero shame about any of this.

1. Tampons (iykyk)

2. Hand soap (sorry, but nothing beats Mrs. Meyer’s)

3. All things pharmaceutical: Pepto bismol, Neosporin, Tylenol PM, DayQuil

4. Plastic wrap (whatever they sell here is just… no)

5. An over the sink roll-up dish rack (a game changer for just $15!)

6. My entire set of Le Creuset enamel cookware (yes, I’m a monster)

7. All things food: Peppermint patties, Annie’s mac and cheese, hot sauces of every variety, Indian spices, whatever I can get my hand’s on from Trader Joe’s

8. Silver polish

9. Bed linen sets and throw pillow inserts

10. More skincare and makeup items than I’m willing to admit

Also, there’s like 85 other things that could have made the list.

🇦🇷 When the Tables Are Turned

All of this got me thinking: What about the Argentines living abroad? What do they need, miss, crave when they’re living halfway across the world? Beyond a few obvious guesses, I put the question before the ~10,000 people that follow me on both my personal and Bad Info Instagrams.

I received dozens (hundreds?) of answers with some of the most beautifully mundane and often ridiculous items one could imagine.

Homesick Nostalgia: What Argentines Are Muling Worldwide

I thought I’d keep the numbered lists going, but those are boring. Collages are much more fun, don’t you agree? Please say yes, these things took a lot longer than you’d expect.

Honorable mentions not depicted here: ice cream (? HOW), medialunas, table salt, cornstarch, rice, a nail clipper, saline solution, a certain brand of toothpaste, a wedding dress, and a dog wheelchair.

At the end of the day, all we want is to feel just a little bit closer to home. To be transported back through an aroma, a flavor, a texture. To be comforted from afar, to connect with our past selves - with whom people from our ‘new’ lives might not be familiar just yet.

These things might make life easier, sure, but they might also just help us feel a little less lonely, too.

I was in Sao Paulo over the weekend on a much-needed break from Buenos Aires and rendezvous with some of my favorite people ever. I’ll probably write a bit more about what I saw, ate, drank, and soaked up in a future newsletter, but if you find yourself in the city before April 13, you absolutely must get yourself to the MASP for the Histórias LGBTQIA+ exhibit. It was beautiful, breathtaking, moving, heartbreaking, and a jubilant, powerful expression of the human spirit.

I know that this has nothing to do with what you were reading up until now, but this is my newsletter and I will do as I please. You understand, of course.

Until next time,

Paige

PS: If you haven’t already, listen to the latest episode of Bad Information on Spotify. All the cool kids are doing it.

Enjoying Tutti Frutti, live in Argentina, and want to support this (and future) creative endeavors? Consider supporting the newsletter by clicking here.