LivingInPatagonia.com

Always Ask More Than Once

Sometimes living or traveling in Argentina can be frustrating.  This, in my opinion, stems from the fact that what seems to be or the way questions are answered, is not always the way it ends up in the end.

Let me explain…if you are to ask a question, whether it is as simple as directions or as complicated as politics, you are destined to get more than one answer.  And that different answer can be from the same person.

I will give you the most recent example of that happening to us…

I, very unfortunately, lost a diamond and cracked another in my wedding ring, while dancing to my hearts content to our favorite band.  When I noticed the damage that I had caused, my heart dropped to the floor.  Where in the world would I be able to find a place to fix it. 

The ring is originally from the States.  Of course, it has immense sentimental value.  I was afraid because of the damaged stones I would possibly loose the other diamonds because of loss of integrity, so it was extremely important to me to find a solution quickly.  Our next trip to the US is not scheduled for some time, so my need to do it in Argentina was evident. 

I researched the options in Bariloche for a diamond specialist.  I also was looking for someone that had experience in working with gold.  I found a shop in town that advertised such abilities.  My fears of not finding anyone lessened.

We went to the shop and waited patiently while the lady behind the counter helped the people in front of us.  When our turn came up I explained the situation.  The woman quickly made a pouted look with her mouth and gave me a stern look.

Believe me, this was not what I wanted to be doing with my time. 

She proceeded to shake her head and give me the finger (not the F… You, but the one that we have spoke about before).  She said it is “Imposible!!” (impossible).  In her opinion there was no one in all of the Bariloche region that could fix a ring like mine.  She gave me another wag of the finger.

I started to turn to leave, my heart beating a little quicker and the feeling of doom starting to drape over my feeling of optimism.  Then she asked one more question.

“What is the stone anyway?”

My first thought was, “You work with jewels and you can’t tell?”  But I decided that wasn’t going to get me anywhere.  I calmly said that it was diamonds. 

She violently shook her head and gave me a very strong wag of two fingers, accentuating her point.  It seems that there was no way, not even when hell freezes over, that I was going to find someone in Bariloche that would be able to help me with something that had to do with diamonds.  My frustration mounted.  The little voice in the back of my head reminded me to stay calm and ask her if she knew of anyone else.  She reluctantly told me of a place a block away that did do some repair work, but that there was no way that they would be able to help me with my diamond problem.

I left the shop a little flustered.  Was I not going to be able to wear my ring for months, until our return to the US? 

We walked the quick block and entered a not-so-slick jewelry store that was filled with antique rings and necklaces.  No diamonds to be seen.  Hmmmm, maybe she was right.  Again, the little voice in my head said it doesn’t hurt to ask, especially in Argentina.

A nice man in his late thirties came out from the back of the shop, smiled and asked how he could be of help.  I explained my situation.  He gingerly took the ring, obviously understanding the love that was attached to the metal object.  He looked at it through his magnify glass and agreed that, yes indeed, I was in need of two stones.

He took the ring up to the craftsman in the upper lair.  He peered over the railing and gave me the time out signal (another common hand gesture here in Argentina).  It seemed that we may be in luck.  He at least wasn’t giving me the finger and pushing me out the door. 

It turns out that, yes, there is someone in Bariloche that works on diamonds.  They had one diamond in my size but not two.  But they could order it.  My heart leapt in joy…I wanted to kiss the man.

He wrote up an order ticket and said he would call when the diamond came in.

So the point to the story?  If you don’t like the answer that you receive the first time around, while in Argentina, ask and ask again.  Eventually the outcome always turns out alright.  It just sometimes takes some patience and repeated questioning.