On one side of our little apartment: headache-inducing electropop that pulsates no matter the time of day.
On the other: delightful live jams from a band that plays rock, soul, tango, folk, and anything else your ears are interested in.
Clearly we had no choice but to play favorites with our neighbors, and became friends with Jose* and Agustin, two music students who never fail to delight us with beats and were kind enough to overlook our pathetic Spanish and include us in 
their group. Which is how we got to their Peruvian bandmate Alvaro's house on Saturday night and spent many moons participating in the following activities:
their group. Which is how we got to their Peruvian bandmate Alvaro's house on Saturday night and spent many moons participating in the following activities:1. Singing Rolling Stones, Ray Charles and Michael Jackson really loudly while they backed us up with several instruments at once
2. Listening carefully while they taught us Argentine/Peruvian folk songs
3. Learning new words (sacacorches=corkscrew)
4. Letting Agustin look past our utter lack of rhythm and teach us his new passion, tango dancing
5. Being really, really content with life
*Jose lets us call him Vecino (Neighbor) and nothing else, which is also kind of him. We thought we might be freaking him out a little by our enthusiasm until he told us that the previous tenants in our apartment were two old drunk people who fought all the time, threw bottles of whiskey off the balcony and buzzed on everyone's doorbells at 5 am. It hasn't yet been confirmed that he was comparing us favorably to them, but just wanted you to know the classiness level of the building we're living in.
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