Well, we've had two days of teaching now. And it's 10 past 11, we got home at around 10:30 after finishing teaching at 9 and catching the Subte back and troughing on a sandwich de lomito (steak) and a chopp (draught beer).

The subte often looks like this, and is also often more crowded. You tend to re-evaluate your concepts of personal space. Tonight, however, we were lucky to have a nearly empty train. The downside of that is that the train beggars can move more easily. These range from young kids who go through the carriage and place a pen or a packet of stickers or a pack of plasters on your lap and then go back through the train a minute or two later and pick them up, or pick up the peso or 50 centavos that some kind soul may have paid for them.

Tonight we had two different ones (and thankfully we didn't have the woman who just carries her baby through the train with her arm out). A pen seller and then a ten year old juggler. This boy was very brown and very thin, he got on the train and did his little spiel, then started juggling. On a moving train. I'll repeat... ON A MOVING TRAIN. Try it some time. And this wasn't just three ball stuff. This was five ball cascades and bouncing off his knees, elbows and head. He was pretty good. Ask Martin how hard this is, especially when the train goes round the sharper bends.

So he earned his 50 centavos, a smattering of applause and got off the train to try another carriage.
  ¶ 2:21 AM