We’ve been rooted in Buenos Aires, Argentina, for a couple weeks now and all I can say is, “Boy is it nice to stay in one place!”

When I think back to when we left Juneau last July, it seems like we’ve been traveling forever, but when I think about all the things we still want to see and do, it feels like we’ve barely begun.  At any rate, we’ve been moving from hostel to hostel since mid-November and it was high time we got ourselves some R&R.

We had some good reasons for picking Buenos Aires for a prolonged stay.  Once we decided to continent-hop towards Africa, instead of Australia, it seemed like the most likely place to find cheap tickets.  Also, Anna, Oksana’s friend who joined us in Santiago for a couple weeks of travel, was flying home from Ezeiza, so we had to stop there.  Furthermore, back in 2007, we met a nice couple from the city while learning how to dive in Australia; it would be nice to see them again.  And finally, another couple we met on our recent tour of the Salar de Uyuni said to look them up when we got here.

We’ve only seen our friends, Cristian and Giselle, a couple times since we’ve been here, but they’ve already proven an invaluable help.  We stopped by their office on our first day in the city and mentioned our intent to stay for a month.  After politely declining their offer to stay with them in their house – rent-free! – they put us in contact with a property manager (Teresa, who spoke perfect English.)  We met with her the next day and within an hour or so, we’d signed a month-long contract on a fantastic apartment!

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Friday, July 27th, was Oksana’s big day.  The oath ceremony, where she would be sworn in as a U.S. citizen, was scheduled for the morning, and we were planning a party at the Thane Ore House for her that evening.  What she didn’t know was that I had a surprise lined up for her on Thursday night!

We’d been talking about the after-party for weeks, coming up with a location, deciding who to invite.  Oksana said more than a couple times that it would have been nice if my parents could have come up from Ketchikan for the ceremony.  Of course, they already had plane tickets, but I didn’t tell her that.  I always kept a straight face and said, “Well, why don’t you call them and ask?”  She never did.

I’m good at keeping secrets, but for some reason I came close to slipping up a dozen times with this one.  The worst was just an hour or so before the big reveal when I mentioned that I’d need to swing by work sometime tomorrow before the party to pick up some stuff.  Oksana wondered aloud why I couldn’t just pick up my stuff while I was at work.  Which would make sense… if I hadn’t arranged to take the day off to spend with her and my parents.

Fortunately, she didn’t think much of it, and the plan went down just like my mom and I had planned it.  With the invaluable help our friends Mike and Leah, here’s what happened:

My parents arrived at about 8pm on Thursday night.  I wouldn’t have been able to slip away without arrousing suspicion, so Mike and Leah picked them up at the airport and took them to a nearby restaurant.  Mike did an awesome job executing our plan earlier that day with an innocuous e-mail inviting us to go see Rattatouie.  It would have to be the late show for them, he wrote, and they were thinking about going to dinner beforehand at either the Broiler or the Hot Bite.  (Our plan was always the Broiler — he’d overheard Oksana express her disappointment with the Hot Bite before.)   The only concern I had was that Oksana might balk at a late show on a week night.  I needn’t have worried; she’d planned to take the next morning off to get ready for the naturalization ceremony.

That evening, Oksana decided to take a walk after work.  Which was perfect, as it allowed me to check on the flight and realize it was late.  I called Mike and we decided to tell Oksana that they were running late, that we would meet up for dinner a half hour later than planned.  Turns out the flight actually landed early — Thanks Alaskaair.com! — but Mike and Leah made it in time and simply waited with my parents at the Broiler.  Oksana and I left our apartment at about 8:25pm and I pretended to be interested in small talk during the drive.  It was torture; I had to concentrate not to let an anticipatory smile slip out.

I opened the door to the restuarant and ushered Oksana in ahead of me.  She glanced around the tables, looking for Mike and Leah.  When she spotted them, she smiled, waved, and said “Hiiii…,” while walking toward their table.  I made sure to fix my stare on her face, to see her reaction.  There was a moment of confusion — why are there people sitting at the table with them? — and then her mouth dropped open.  All the way.  And stayed that way until after she’d hugged both my mom and step-dad.  There were tears in her eyes, and all she could say was “Wow!” and “Oh my God!” and “I can’t believe this!”

So totally worth the effort.

We all had a nice dinner and explained the New Plan to Oksana.  My parents were only in town for about 36 hours, but it was long enough to go to the citizenship ceremony and after-party.  I would be taking Friday off to hang out with them.  When I asked if Oksana could maybe take part of the afternoon off from work, she said, “Well screw that, I’m taking the day off, too!”

It was a late dinner, so afterwards we said goodbye and thank you to Mike and Leah and checked my parents into their hotel with plans to meet them for breakfast in the morning.  Oksana wasn’t disappointed about missing the movie.  I don’t think she even remembered we had once planned to go.

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When I first read about “flashbulb memories” in Psych 101, I immediately understood the metaphor. Sometimes an event occurs that is so perfectly captured by the mind that, in retrospect, time seemed to have slowed down and the tiniest detail can be recalled…

I sprinted off the line as soon as the ball was snapped. It was fourth-and-long and the cornerback, as usual, was giving me plenty of cushion. Without cleats, I didn’t bother to offer a fake. Eyes on the quarterback, he let me pass unhindered. The gusting wind was incredibly strong that Thanksgiving Day (benefiting our team that half) but the accompanying rain cast any throw in doubt. The defender must have decided that I was outrunning the quarterback’s arm.

With the gap between us widening with each step, our QB launched the ball into the air. It arced too high, giving the defenders time make a play, but at least it had some semblance of a spiral. Still, it wouldn’t reach me.

I reversed direction as quickly as I could, the rubber soles of my court shoes almost skidding out from under me on the hard-packed dirt. Now advancing on the backpedaling cornerback, I could tell that he could have a chance a intercepting the descending ball. I ran farther back than I needed to, consciously making the decision to block him out with my body’s position. But now the ball was sailing over my head.

I barely had enough time to think that I had made a mistake; this would be one of those difficult directly-over-the-head catches…

In one motion, I jumped and twisted my body around, losing sight of the defender. I saw my arms out in front of me, coming together from odd angles, and then football was between them.

There was a fleeting moment of surprise, and then the cornerback’s arm was wrapping around my waist. But his center of gravity diverging from my own, and as I spun away, his hand failed to find a purchase on my muddy sweatshirt. The end zone loomed in front of me; I ran.

We were evenly matched in speed, but I knew that his cleats would give him and edge in both acceleration and cutting. It was a footrace, plane and simple, and I put everything I had into stretching my legs for the orange cone that marked the goal. I crossed the line barely a stride or two in front of him, scoring the winning touchdown.

Without fanfare or celebration, I looked back down the field to see almost every other player near the line of scrimmage, some 60 yards back. I hadn’t realized it, but it was to be the last play of the game.

As vivid as that play is in my memory – illuminated as though a “flashbulb” went off, freezing each motion and thought in place – it’s an earlier play, one in which I may have broken my wrist, that I keep going over in my mind.
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