Sábado, 19 de Abril

It was going to be a long day. We were up at 9 to meet Monica at a location she had found for us in Recoleta. The spot was perfect – a corner site, in a residential and retail neighborhood with constant foot traffic. It was about the right size and was being offered at a good price. Before I got too excited I remembered that not only did we not have an investor, but that I had begun to doubt our concept myself.

Next we met with Henri, and detailed the week’s events for him. As a successful businessman I could see that he understood all of the challenges that we were facing. We told him that we were no longer sure that we had chosen the right business or even the right industry, but that the week had shown that there were definite business opportunities for us in Argentina. He offered some powerful words of advice and encouragement, and we said our farewells.
After a work out at the Alvear we headed to the Alamo, Argentina’s only American sports bar, to watch the NBA playoffs and have a beer. Basketball is arguably Argentine’s second favorite sport, behind futbol. But they tend to only broadcast NBA games featuring Argentine players, which essentially means only San Antonio Spur games with their star Argentine duo: Fabricio Oberto and Manu Ginobili. We came in for the second half of the Cavs, Wizards game. No Spurs, meant Sling Box. Sling Box is a device that can beam media anywhere in the world. Because this game wasn’t on Argentine TV, the bar was getting the feed via Sling Box from the Miami market. The picture was blurry and the image stuttered from frame to frame, missing some of the biggest plays of the game. As you can imagine this is just about the most frustrating way to watch a basketball game. When work out and the Quilmes had set in, we headed back to the apartment for a nap.

I never miss a chance to celebrate a Jewish holiday, and lucky for me it was Passover. For the Seder we went to Joe’s house. Joe is an old friend of Jack’s, who is a Sephardic Jew, always the most fun to celebrate with. He and his family were some of the nicest people we met our whole time in Argentina. They welcomed us into their house and treated us to a wonderful Middle Eastern meal, complete with delicious red and desert wine. My favorite part was the questioning, a passover tradition in which the man of the house goes around the party and asks every guest two questions. When is was my turn, Joe asked "Where do you come from?", "Egipto," I dutifully recited. "Where are you going?" "Israel!" I said in my best Porteno/Sephardic accent.

When we left around 1 a.m. we headed back to the apartment to meet Nick for a three-man pre-party. Our apartment had a giant sound system from the 1980’s that we somehow hooked up to Nick’s iPod to blast the latest electronica, trans and techno music. Around 2:30 we left to Pacha. Saturday’s at Pacha are packed with 1,500 plus people who consume much more water than alcohol. It was basically like being at a rave. We danced and partied, and I continued to unsuccessfully approach Argentine girls. Around 6 I left Jaspar and Nick and headed back to the apartment for some sleep. They hung around to watch the sunrise and when they left at 8 a.m. there were still over 1,000 people at the club.