Avenida Florida that is. In Buenos Aires. It is a delightful walking street, filled to the brim with artists and artisans selling exquisite paintings with tango dancers in impossible positions which they will assure you are possible, beautiful lace and floral scarves, hand knitted vests of infinite varieties, precious gems to heal your aches and pains.
I sat down on the ground to test out an amethyst. I bought one for quince pesos, or the equivalent of four into fifteen, roughly just under four dollars. I asked the fellow if he was able to make a living this way. I noticed I was the only one buying. He laughed and confessed he did, yes, but only when a healer or practitioner came and bought a whole set.
He began demonstrating how I needed a quartz washed in moonlight or rainwater on each foot that was very tired, in addition to the one for my rump I had already purchased. I had explained it was the damn sciatica nerve that I had injured with twelve classes of tango dancing. You see the woman has to step backwards balancing all this weight while she turns her torso towards the leader…