Has common sense finally wolfed me down, devoured me?
I was so afraid of that.
I remember family chats when trivial things were discussed,
such as the weather, the current affairs,
things that had already happened...
inevitable things, which were bound to happen.
That would worm its way into me, bottling up inside of me, quietly,
never bursting out.
Now I find it hard to recall examples of what I used to call common sense.
I find it harder to recognize it.
It stopped corroding me, and then this horror reared its head.
Am I so deep into common sense that I can no longer see it?
Has maternity catapulted me into a total absence of cynicism?
Into full-time empathy?
Is melancholy exclusive to youth, contradictory as it may sound?
A luxury you can only afford when you have your whole life ahead?
Once caught up in the hustle of life, you can't stop to look back.
Here and now as a mother,
but in this sole part of the world where I'm a daughter too.
In the midst of this family museum...
maternity feels like a grail,
or something less holy, like the baton you pass along in a relay race,
where you have no time to utter a word, you just take off at once.
Are we going together?
Are you coming?
What?
I can't go faster.
Yes, you can. Let's go to the corner.
Careful! You slide over here to the door and I will open it.
Ring the bell once.
-Grab him from this side. -No, it's okay!
Come to the door and I will open it.
Come on.
Come here.
That's enough, come here.
There's nobody home.
Come to the door and I will open it.
Step on the door. Be careful.
Well done! That's right. Hold on to the door.
Now your foot.
Hold on, let me tie his laces. Stay still, don't move.
And now let's close it quickly.
Now stay there while Granny opens the door again.
-But I'm going to fall. -Look.
No.
And now in the opposite direction.
No.
-Tell me if you want to go down. -I want to go down.
Here we go. Here we go.
Let's clean that nose.
That's good, right?
It's good?
Very good.
What is that?
With his great gun
Do you like this one?
He will shoot you down
You'll be covered in red ink
And then you'll be dead
You'll be covered in red ink
And then you'll be dead
Orange juice.
-What? -Orange juice.
Dear fox, take my advice Don't be a thief
The fox fell down.
Don't be a thief
You don't need any goose broth
A lemon.
When you can eat a mouse
-No, it's not. -It's not lemon?
When you can eat a mouse
-It's not a lemon? -It's not fruit.
It's not?
What is it then?
Too much.
Little Hans went alone
Into the wide world
Staff and hat suit him well
He is in a good mood
But Mom cries bitterly
For she no longer has little Hans
"I wish you luck," said her eyes
"Come back home soon"
For seven years, cloudy and clear Little Hans...
Mom, come and sit.
Good, thank you.
Cheers!
It's nice to have you both here. I'm so happy to have you here.
It's very nice.
You can stay here. Take all the time you need.
There's always room for you. No problem.
I don't know how long we'll stay.
As long as you like. It's fine by me.
I have no idea what to do about the teaching.
That's good for you, you can teach.
You can give German lessons. You have students, that helps a lot.
Things aren't going so well back home.
Javi works a lot, and we have talked about this.
But if I want to work, I have to hire someone.
I'll work to pay for someone to baby-sit Ramón.
You can stay here. I can take care of Ramón.
-But I have to... -I'll be here for you...
You can stay here as long as you need, no problem.
-You've been like this for long? -That's not so clear.
People say the first months or the first years are hard,
but it's been about three years.
-Life together is complicated. -It's not getting better?
It's complicated.
We love each other, but... it's complicated.
-What about Ramón? -He's fine, I think.
I guess so. I'm not sure.
You never told me about this.
-How could I tell you this over the phone? -I know, it's hard.
It's nothing definite yet, but little by little...
-It's getting worse? -Yes.
It sucks...
Now you should take a shower and lie down next to him.
You'll see, things will get better.
Thank you.
I mean, I'm not trying to avoid his love, I couldn't even if I tried,
but that's precisely what I find oppressive, stifling.
I can't wait for him to fall asleep,
but I miss him as soon as I go do something else.
It's diabolic.
It's like choosing between two guilty feelings.
I can't get rid of this lump in my throat.
You know what it feels like? Like...
a constant shadow on my neck.
Like when you have a problem to solve
which then fades away, that's what it feels like.
But this feeling of responsibility never goes away.
I didn't know it'd be this way.
When things are fine, you fear something wrong will happen.
Things can go wrong at any time.
When he was younger and he fell asleep, I feared he'd wake up any minute
and cry again.
When he was crying, I wanted him to stop, and then I dreaded his next outburst.
That's the stifling feeling I was telling you about.
I dragged on, sorry. Call me to meet up.
I want to hear from you.
I didn't say what I needed to say.
I'm staying at my mom's in Buenos Aires.
Let's meet soon, I miss you a lot and I really need to talk.
Bye, friend.
Left down. Stretch your right arm.
Breathe out, twist your spine.
To the back.
Turn your head, easy.
No!
How are they doing exercises?
-She's with her friends. -What?
-She's with her friends. -She's not doing anything.
Breathe in, right arm to the back.
Breathe out, to the front. Twist your spine...
No more ham for you, Ramón. That's enough.
I want to go with granny, Mom.
-What? -I want to go with granny.
-Not now. -Why not?
-In a while. -Why?
Why can't I go now?
She did this.
-Okay, but be a good boy. -Okay.
-Who do we have here? -I don't know how to do this.
Very good.
Breathe in. Left arm to the back.
Breathe out and to the front.
Relax.
We stretch our little legs.
We straighten up.
Breathe in. Reach up.
Good. Breathe out. Down.
Relax.
Relax your head, your arms.
Very good.
We'll lie on one side to do cycling.
-With only one leg. -We'll do cycling.
There you go. Forward.
-Very good. -Careful with Mirta.
Backward.
-And now? -We collided.
And now!
-Relax. -Careful with my bicycle.
-Come on, let's go play. -Bicycle.
Come on up.
Why did you pick me up?
On the other side.
We cycle forward.
I don't know if I should take this time apart as a vacation
and try to relax,
or if I should declare myself in perpetual crisis.
-Both? -Both.
-Jinx! -Buy me a Coke.
Seriously, it's a bit of both.
These are not real vacations. That's more than evident.
But now that your mother is here
maybe you can chill out a bit.
-Right? -Yeah.
My mom is the only person in the world that cares more about me than Ramón.
At least she doesn't totally ignore me when he's around.
-I care about you. -I see you twice a year.
That's your fault for moving in with the Comechingones.
Everything has a price. Besides, it's not settled yet.
-Are you coming back? -We are staying here right now.
I'm not announcing anything, I'm just thinking out loud.
Let's change the subject. I can't stand myself. Tell me about you.
There's something that might interest you.
Have I told you about Norber?
-Norber? Norberto, your father? -No other than her.
Pardon me?
Actually, everybody in the family knew it, but I thought it'd stay in the shadows.
For his 70th birthday party, he turned up dressed as a woman
or she turned up as a woman.
-Amazing. -Totally.
That's brave.
Very brave.
And so annoying.
Why?
I mean, he has all my support.
I'll defend him to death, he can do whatever he wants.
But what's left for me if I can't vent with a friend?
-Nothing. -Nothing.
I would have said to him, "Go on a cruise, go to bars, do whatever."
But in front of his nephews and nieces and grandkids?
-It was too much. -I'm not with you there.
That was the punkest thing about it.
Those kids must know that it takes all sorts to make a world.
That's my view. And they won't find it shocking.
They're open-minded.
We get shocked because we're old and prejudiced.
I don't know.
-Did she look pretty? -Who?
Your dad. Did she look pretty?
-Rather ugly, I'd say. -Really?
Remember my father's broad back?
Put a flowered blouse on it and tell me what you see.
I got you.
Totally unbelievable.
Mom!
Hi!
Hello, Mom!
What about my new functional family?
She's amazing.
My kingdom for a granny like her.
-Are you going out tonight? -I'm not interested.
Yes, you must go! Didn't Mariana ask you to go?
A party at her sister's or something.
Come on, you must go. You must do yourself up.
Do your hair, put on make-up, go and meet people.
-You think so? -Of course!
Maybe.
I can take care of Ramón.
We'll take a shower, eat dinner and read a book.
When you come back, be stealthy.
-No problem. -Maybe. Maybe.
Think it over. It's a nice plan, right?
Where is he?
By the swings.
Fritz Nagraszus, Mónica's grandfather, came from Northern Germany in 1920,
after World War I.
He intended to go to Canada, but his visa was denied after the war,
so he ended up in Argentina.
He ended up in a land he hadn't originally chosen,
which he probably knew nothing about.
After establishing himself as a stationery importer in Buenos Aires,
he went back to Germany to marry his girlfriend, Luise Österwitz,
who was waiting for him.
Together they migrated to Argentina for good.
The married couple lived and worked at 400, Lavalle Street,
in the heart of the city.
On the front of their building was Luise's corset and lingerie store,
and in the back was the family home.
Luise and Fritz had two daughters, Adelina and Gertrudis.
Adelina became a sculptor and Gertrudis, a mother and housewife.
Before turning 20, Gertrudis married Kurt Rank,
a gymnast from the German community, a nice and poor guy.
It was Kurt who inherited his father-in-law's business.
Gertrudis and Kurt were my grandparents.
For some strange reason, Gertrudis, or Oma Tutti as we used to call her,
though born in Argentina, raised her kids in German.
For the same strange reason and with a lot of tenacity
my mother raised us in German as well.
My grandma spoke Spanish with an accent.
As if her staying in this country was just temporary and brief.
The country where they ended up
turned out to be the country where she'd spend the rest of her days.
I wonder if she had inherited that feeling from her father,
who got stuck here because no other country would welcome him.
The German language our family speaks is a bastardized form.
It's our mother tongue, in the most literal sense.
Und der Herr? Gast: Ein Bier.
Bardame: Gross oder klein? Gast: Gross.
-Gross. -Gross.
-What's the difference? -It's subtle, you'll notice it in time.
-Okay. -Let's go on with this.
-Ober: Bitte sehr? -Bitte sehr?
Bitte sehr? Gast: Ein Frühstück, bitte.
"Frühstück." That's a hard one.
It has two umlauts, the two words together mean "breakfast."
"Früh" means "early" and "Stück", "piece."
Literally it translates as "early-piece."
Okay.
I'll go on.
Ober: Mit Kaffee oder mit Tee? Gast: Mit Tee, bitte.
Good.
Okay, let's read this list here now.
You know, I wanted to know if we could study something more...
How can I put it? More commonly used?
I'll be traveling soon and I feel I can't say much.
-But you've learned many things. -Sort of.
And "breakfast" is very commonly used.
Yes, you're right, but...
we've been working with this textbook, which is a bit...
outdated, right?
You've said that half the words in it are no longer used.
It depends on the area.
But you tell me what you want to learn, and I will plan a lesson.
Like talking with someone in a bar or asking for directions.
-For the bar, you're covered. -You're right.
At least for Bavaria.
Never mind. Let's go on.
-Let's go over these drinks. -Okay.
-Trinken sie Tee oder Kaffee? -Trinken sie Tee oder Kaffee?
-Trinken sie Bier oder Wein?
Trinken sie Bier oder Wein?
-Trinken sie Kaffee oder Milch? -Trinken sie Kaffee oder Milch?
-Trinken sie Cola oder Bier? -Trinken sie Cola oder Bier?
Trinken sie Orangensaft oder Apfelsaft?
Orange juice or apple juice.
Trinken sie Orangensaft oder Apfelsaft?
Trinken sie Wein oder Bier?
-Sorry about the noise. -No, it's okay.
-Trinken sie Kaffee... -Is he your son?
Yes.
-What's his name? -Ramón.
He's very funny. I'm sorry.
-Trinken sie Kaffee oder Tee? -Right. Trinken sie Kaffee oder Tee?
-Trinken sie Cognac oder Whisky? -Trinken sie Cognac oder Whisky?
That'll be all for today.
He can't see me.
Okay. All right.
I'm sorry.
It's not like I never think of going there like you
and lead that kind of life.
It's everybody's dream in a way.
The corn stall on the beach, the cabin in the woods.
But what would I do over there?
I mean, how would I make a living?
In nature, things are what they are.
There's no room for comments or opinions.
A tree is a tree, a flower is a flower, a lemon is a lemon.
It either rains or clears out.
Nature has its own cycles and they're more... circular.
They don't allow for a linear reading
that moves straight forward like an arrow.
Life in the city is based on opinion, it's sheer abstraction.
We pretend we don't live crammed, on top of each other
like we don't see one another.
We pretend no cow died when we eat an abstract steak of it.
"Because I didn't kill it,
and I'd rather starve to death than butcher the animal myself."
So here everything is opinion.
A tree is not necessarily a tree proper.
It is what everyone needs it to be.
An abstraction.
Here you are what you say you are.
You're not even what you do here, not now.
Maybe where you live, what you do plays a bigger role.
I don't know.
In the city I feel we do things just because,
but all that matters is opinion.
That's like the tool of abstraction.
Bravo! Who gave you that present? Let me see. It's so cool.
You play it like this, Mom, with power.
Yes?
-And you can see... -Can I have a kiss? I'm leaving.
-Kiss, kiss. -What?
A kiss for Mom.
-What? -Are you going to be a good boy?
Are you going to be nice to granny? Kiss.
Nice kiss. Mom will give you a kiss now.
The bell rang.
-Bring another beer! -Will you open it?
The bell rang.
Hey! Hi. They'll come down in a second.
Okay!
Hey!
-Happy birthday. -Thanks, but it's not today.
-Mariana said it was your birthday. -It was last Thursday.
-Well, anyway. -I'm so glad you could make it.
-It's a miracle. -Did you turn 23?
No, silly, 28. You're not the only one getting old.
Sometimes I think I am.
You didn't bring your baby. I thought I'd see him.
No. I didn't know I could bring him.
I was kidding.
-He's not a baby anymore. -He's not?
No.
Everything all right?
Let me fix this. Okay.
-Do I look good? -Yeah.
Is Marcos coming?
He went out with his friends. He might come later. I don't know.
Come on.
Are you okay?
HI. HEY! I'M OUTSIDE
-Catch me and catch the ball. -Are you sure?
-Yes. -I'll catch you.
No.
-I want my bike, too. -Your bike?
-Yes. -Not now, later.
-Why later? -Kick the ball.
I'll score a goal.
I'm gonna take it away from you.
Did you see that?
You can't catch the ball.
Come and get it!
Goal.
It's all wet!
Watch out!
Goal! Watch out!
Watch out.
Watch out. If I kick it, you'll fall.
-I don't want this. -You want me to take it away?
It's too heavy, I can't.
How was it, then?
Fine.
What do you mean?
-Was it good? -It was fine. We danced a bit.
-It was cool. -It wasn't worth it?
And hour and a half back and forth, I don't know if it was worth it.
-But it was cool. -Ramón and I had a great time.
We had so much fun.
He never asked about Mom, nothing.
-That's better. -Yeah, right?
It was great, so you can go out again.
-Fire, fire. -This is not for lighting a fire.
-Here. -Okay.
This is for massage. Here.
Look, it caught fire.
-Wow! -Here.
For massage.
-Do you like it? -Wait, let me give her this.
That one too. Why is she doing that?
There was too much fire.
I'll do something. Take off your necklace.
Oops!
-Too much smoke. -Yes.
Take this off.
How do I take it off?
-You can't. -I can't?
"The masculine personality took shape over millennia
of hunting and gathering life.
That must be why Lou had the amazing perception
that men's temperament thrives in uncertainty.
Stable middle-class societies weaken and hamper men's adaptation
and favor women, who are smarter and have the gift to create
and work in a civilized, sedentary environment.
It's no small paradox that man tries to win women over
by showing a protective and secure image
when he's actually weak, unstable and elusive.
The confident language of certain males is, like the coccyx's truncated tail,
a ridiculous remnant of primitive evolution
when man felt comfortable in a hunting and gathering community."
We're not separated.
I mean, we're physically separated now, but...
I don't know.
I think we needed this time apart, didn't we?
We agreed on it.
Yes, I'm just visiting my mom with Ramón.
It's a visit.
You said it yourself. You were on edge, you were exhausted.
It seems like you forgot about that.
No, I'm not happy.
But... I'm calm.
I'm really calm.
Yeah.
They're great.
Yes.
My mother speaks to him in German.
Yes, in German.
And he speaks to her in Spanish.
But he seems to understand her. He answers all her questions.
It's very funny.
We do miss you!
Ramón asks about you and I tell him we'll go back home.
Yes.
Of course we're coming back.
Yes.
How about your job? All good?
I chose Berlin because I heard it was the ugliest city in Germany,
and the least German, too.
Actually, some said that, others said quite the opposite.
That it's the most German city.
I've always been fascinated by everything German.
I don't know yet if it is a positive or negative fascination.
If it's admiration or repulsion.
I think I'll go there to figure that out.
I'm Jewish and I've been to Israel.
I've been to the Wailing Wall.
I got distracted when making wishes because of the crowd
and because I was too young.
But it stirred something in me.
And in order to heal...
or to have a better understanding of it, I need to go to Germany.
To Berlin.
I don't want to see the Camps.
I want to see the city where people lived before they were deported.
Not the museums.
I know Berlin was densely bombed and much of it was never rebuilt.
And I heard there lots of open spaces between buildings,
where once stood houses and now it's just grass and graffiti.
No buildings.
I need to see those scars too.
I need to see the place where everyone was a citizen
before getting segregated.
I believe historical time is not the same around the world.
That synchrony and diachrony don't cross each other,
they overlap.
That past and the present happen at the same time.
And we're not all at the same point of evolution,
if there is an evolution.
I feel that in cities like Berlin...
cities besieged by pivotal historical moments...
the past and the future...
converge into a present continuous.
It's a kind of limbo where everything is happening
time and time again.
You don't need to understand it, it talks about that moment of day.
Sunset.
-"Abend." -"Abend." Yes, exactly.
It's the most German word I can think of.
There's no specific word for it in Spanish.
It's like...
late in the afternoon or early at night.
-Evening. -Evening, yeah.
What's he saying now?
He's talking about sunset, sundown.
That it's the time the world becomes red.
The light is coming through his window.
And his chest swells.
-When are you leaving? -On Tuesday.
Great.
-Let me know if some of this was useful. -Yes, sure.
-If I have some doubt, I'll text you. -Okay.
-Would you like a beer? -What?
I mean, going out for a beer and having a chat.
Oh, yeah. Wait, let me check.
-Yes, I've got some time. -Okay.
You meant now or later?
I meant now, but I remembered I didn't tell my mom about Ramón.
-We can go somewhere near. -Yeah, you pick the place.
I think I'll ask my mom.
Does Ramón have a father?
-I mean, of course he does, but... -You're asking if I'm a single mom?
No, I'm not. He has a father, he's my boyfriend.
And we live in Córdoba.
-What are you doing? -I didn't know.
I thought Denise might have mentioned it.
No, she just said you could give me German lessons.
Right. Why would she tell you?
-Hey! -Come here, boy.
We're going through a crisis, though, that's why I'm visiting my mother.
I see.
I'm not opening any doors. It's like a general crisis.
Sure.
But... you're cute.
I'd kiss you, but I don't know if we're there yet.
I don't know.
Right.
Since I had Ramón, I've never kissed another guy
apart from his father.
It feels weird being Ramón's mom and kissing another man.
He wouldn't mind, but I'd... I'd feel weird.
You have an open relationship?
-Who? -You and your boyfriend.
No. Why?
You just said he wouldn't mind, right?
Yes, but I meant Ramón.
Sorry, I got mixed up.
What's your relationship status? If you don't mind telling me.
I've been dating a girl for quite a while and I like her a lot,
but I don't want any commitment now that I'm going on this trip.
Sure.
Yeah, when we started, my trip was already planned.
She knew about it from the start.
-But we got closer anyway. -You never know, though.
You never know, but I'd rather not miss anyone...
or have anyone waiting for me.
Yes, waiting sucks.
It sucks.
I have to catch my train.
-It's a bit late. -We're coming with you.
-Ramón! -There's no need.
Yeah, you're right.
Hi, honey.
Okay, bye, Ramón. Bye.
-High-five? -High-five. Here.
Three, two, one.
And now? Cool!
Bye.
Bye. Sorry.
-Good-bye. -Some other time in life!
-You never know! -You never know!
Do we go home? To grandma's house?
-No. -No?
-No. -Let's take a walk.
I should learn to interpret what I fear on my horizon...
because fear and desire many times end up being the same thing
with the same determination.
I have records of the things that scared me and became part of me.
Not being with my mom, going to birthday parties, taking buses,
having sex.
These things terrified me and eventually subjugated me.
Fear is no fool, that's for sure.
Few things are as stimulating as fulfilling your desire.
Following that line of thought,
should I feel liberated now that I don't have any desire,
or, more precisely, now that my desire's running wild and free
without knowing where to perch?
Is not knowing a blessing or a curse?
In my family there was no one too heroic.
No one tried to change the world
or was at least caught up in a situation that turned them into a hero.
There were workers, many of them,
artists, very few of them...
some premature deaths, one suicide,
no criminals, a couple of twins.
We've always been just another family.
But one that never stopped keeping records.
For whom?
For relatives in another continent?
Or for us, the ones who came later?
-Is that by your sister? -Yes.
-No X-rays. -No alarms.
-Can I touch it? -Sure.
Yes, you must repeat it.
And search for...
-They left the cable. -The extension cord.
-The man creeps me out a bit. -Yeah.
One of those hands is not his.
This one? The blue one?
-I didn't know she was so devoted. -Yes, for many years now.
I'd say it's brave, but I'm not sure I understand it.
It's not about understanding.
It's about what you feel at a particular moment,
the kind of feeling you're left with.
That painting of the woman with her organs on the outside...
I really liked it.
In that sense, for the feeling it gives.
But really liking something doesn't necessarily mean it's positive, right?
I'd say it does. I mean, it doesn't, you can like something ugly.
Beautiful doesn't always mean pleasing, right?
I think not.
-Is Marcos coming? -I don't think so.
He's not much into exhibitions, especially an opening one.
I wanted to see him.
-Do you often go out separately? -Nearly always.
-Is that cool? -It's a fine line.
On one side of the line, we're a very independent couple...
we have our own space,
but on the other side, we're almost not a couple because...
there's too much autonomy.
It's always a fine line.
Always.
Sometimes, when we're in a meeting with more people,
Marcos will tell a story I haven't heard.
And I get surprised because he hasn't told it to me.
And he does it with an enthusiasm I've never seen before.
I hear you.
But add a child to the equation and goodbye independence.
Unless...
Unless you get separated, yeah.
Then it's clear when you're a mother and when you're not.
So I heard.
Sometimes I feel like I don't even know Marcos.
-Why? -It's like...
He's the equivalent of an optical illusion.
The closer you get to it, the less you see it.
You can't make out its outline.
I see him so often that I don't know him anymore.
Just the other day I had this idea that Javier made me feel shy.
That the intimacy between us inhibited me.
Not only sexual intimacy, intimacy in general.
I don't know.
Like it's easier to romanticize someone you hardly know,
someone you just met.
You can be more uninhibited and project your desire
and show whatever version of yourself you want.
But that doesn't last long.
No.
Hey. What's up? What have you been up to?
-In what way? -Heartwise.
Just a few adventures, I have no heart.
You should give us a lesson on how to let go.
-So that's what you've been up to? -Yes. It's a constant exercise.
Is it worth it?
I can't say for certain, I need more time.
-Are you getting separated? -Me?
-I don't think so. I'm not sure. -Yes or no?
I don't know. I'd say no.
I don't really have a clue, actually.
I'm waiting for some realization, I don't want to rush any decision.
-You're ripe to get with me then. -With you?
-Yes. -Are you crazy?
It's probably a morbid kink because you're my sister's bestie.
-Yeah, probably. -That's gross!
Don't touch if you're not buying.
What does that mean?
Girls, no, that's incestuous!
-Fine. -Fine.
-Don't get jealous. -Get off of me, you perv.
Go away.
I'm using LED lights now, they're cool.
-It doesn't grow so much. -Yes, the sprouts are smaller.
But I'm planning on using LED and sodium lights together.
I want to go full out.
-Are you still drinking? -Yeah.
-Yes? -Yes.
Let me know when I get too drunk.
-Yes, we'll let each other know. -Okay.
It intensifies the lighting.
You can try them alone, but...
-You won't get the full effect. -My balcony is really sunny...
Den, Romi liked your...
-What? -What you do.
Not so much.
Yes, I noticed.
I'm disturbed and distressed Disturbed and distressed
With no head over my chest
I lost it today
I lost my head today
I have some booze to ingest
I hope to get some rest
I don't want to go out I don't want to come around
I don't want to hit that place that will always be my...
Today and tomorrow Always drowning my sorrows
I have no skills
Nothing of use
I don't know what to do
Since I disappeared Bling has rained down on me
I'm bluffing, I have no dough That was a big fat lie
I liked the free verse bit.
Can't you sing one we all know?
-Like what? -I don't know.
Suggest one, man.
And he wrote to her,
"I'll cross the ocean to see you."
Which makes no sense, he has no idea about geography...
Anyone wants something from the store?
-No. Are you all right? -Yes, I'll buy some water.
-Be right back. -Okay.
"Cross the ocean."
-Happy birthday to you! -What's that?
Happy birthday, dear Romina!
-Happy birthday to you! -It went out.
Thank you. Who made this lovely cake?
-Ramón. -Ramón alone?
-It's great. -I want to blow.
It's amazing!
We have to sing again.
Come on, quick.
Happy birthday... Quick, quick.
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday, dear Mom Happy birthday to you
Bravo!
You blew it out too soon again.
-Whose birthday is it? -Mom, I want some.
-You forgot the knife? -Oh, damn.
Look, Ramón, see what I found.
Look.
What?
Can you recognize it?
When was this taken?
That's Tutti, right?
Isn't she Tutti?
This is you, Ramón.
No. It's Oma Tutti.
-Is this Ramón? -No, it's Oma Tutti.
Oma Tutti.
-Is this your mom? -I think so.
-Is she her sister? -Is that her mother? No, it's not.
-That's my grandma. -Your mother's grandmother.
Where are they sitting?
They are sitting on a bench, it's like a box.
That is my mom's mother.
Her mother, my grandmother.
Your great-grandmother.
-I want a car. -Okay, he wants a car.
Okay. Which one? Yellow? Red? Purple?
-Which one? -Which one do you want?
-Yellow. -Yellow.
-This is a relic. -The doors can be opened.
The doors can be opened. See?
-Can I drive it? -Yes.
-Look, Romina. -I'm driving it.
Oh, that's...
Grandma's store.
That's great...
Careful.
Too many things.
Come and sit here.
-Sit here. -Why?
You can hide there.
-One, two.. -Mom will hide you.
One, two, and... gone.
Bye! Ramón is gone.
-Where's Ramón? -Ramón?
-Is he gone? -Where's Ramón?
Ramón?
I found a shoe.
I'll sit here.
There's a car in here.
No, I put it away. Look, here it is.
-Who's this little boy? -I want the car!
-Okay, okay. -Daddy's car.
He wishes.
Do I really have a choice?
And at what cost?
Which scenario is the right one for me?
Or for us?
I'm burdened by decisions that'll affect other people's lives.
Years of feeling cornered for lacking in money and resolution
and now it's worse because I'm someone else's despot.
Is it better for him if I'm near or far?
It's so hard to see in close-up.
It's maternity's best-kept secret: it's absolute, it's full-time.
There's no way out. Only guilty feelings to choose from.
Staying, leaving, giving, taking.
Being forced to establish laws.
Being aware of how arbitrary most of those laws are,
but establishing them all the same.
For no reason.
Just because I say so.
Because I'm lazy and I don't want to clean up.
So the world keeps spinning round.
For the ones yet to come.
It's a fantastic view.
Yeah, when I first walked in with the real estate agent,
there was this horrible pearly wallpaper.
She went straight to the blind, rolled it up, we came out.
I didn't say anything, but I knew I was going to live here.
I checked other apartments, but it was love at first sight.
-Are those tipas? -What?
The trees.
I don't know anything about trees.
Do they "spit"?
There's a time when they sweat, I never looked at it as "spitting."
They're tipas then.
Do you have a garden?
In my house?
No, not a garden, but I live by the hills.
Do you like it?
Yeah.
I miss my mom and friends, but I kind of like living isolated.
I mean, far from here, with no references.
Isn't it hard on you both with...?
-Ramón? -Yes, Ramón.
Sorry.
Yes, a little bit.
But it wouldn't be different here.
Now my mom does a lot of the work,
but if we were living here, I wouldn't be with her all the time.
But you'd have more helping hands.
-Me, for example. I could look after him. -Oh, yeah?
Yeah.
I can change diapers.
He's three now.
-He no longer wears diapers. -That's better.
Can I have some maté?
You ran away the other night.
I'm sorry.
It had nothing to do with you.
-I was a bit rude anyway. -You don't have to explain.
I had drunk a lot and didn't notice I was wasted.
The kiss was nice, though. I remember it.
Yeah?
It was nice, right?
Yeah, I liked it a lot.
But it's messed up. Think about it.
-Mariana's little sister. -So?
I don't know. Lesbian old lady makes out with her friend's little sis.
-You'd be the lesbian old lady? -Yes.
-A real Mrs. -I'm no one's Mrs.
-What's that? -"No one's Mrs."?
The movie by María Luisa Bemberg.
It's a classic. It was a joke. Never mind.
Shall we kiss again?
Now?
This is not a good moment in my life.
You think so?
If death didn't exist, everything would be a mess.
That's by a Japanese female writer.
Death organizes things.
That's why this is our revolution.
The daughters', who won't be mothers, who will see what they want to be.
Death organized us women, it brought us together,
it brought us closer.
And now we say this.
We like calling it our revolution, the daughters' revolution.
God doesn't raise us, and death brings us together.
But not like a pile of corpses we no longer want to be.
Rather, like a tribe of the living, which we do want to be.
I like calling it like that, "the daughters' revolution."
Our mothers and grandmothers started it so we could take it further.
And men can come along.
You don't need to pretend anything anymore.
You can join us.
But hog nothing, not even kindly, don't take more from us.
Just walk by our side, that's not a small thing.
You don't have to be big behind someone who already is.
We don't want that mentality.
That people are hidden behinds others, who need to be rescued with words
or nobody would see them.
I don't want power as men conceive it.
I don't want power in those terms.
I want to go back to the drawing board, I want a new state of affairs
where life and chaos reign
and questions are answered with another question.
The other day I read that Athena...
was born out of her father Zeus' head
because he had eaten her mother Metis while she was pregnant with her.
Not only does Athena not die in her father's belly with her mother...
She survives and splits her father's head in two
while turning him into a mother.
If this is not the daughters' revolution, what is it?
Are you studying gardening?
-What will you do? -When?
What do you want to do with Ramón?
-School or something? -School?
No idea. I don't know. Why?
We have to make a decision. The kid can't only be with us.
He needs other kids, other people, to learn other things.
At some point he will go to school, but he's still very little.
Yes, that's true.
He needs to have his own group, his own friends.
He needs to learn other things, other than just be with us.
I don't know.
I find it hard to know what is best for him.
Whatever you feel. You're his mother.
Precisely, that's why I have no idea.
But we also learn. We try to figure out what's best for our kids.
I don't know. Sometimes I wish I could be his father.
Well, you're his mother and father, so...
You have to decide what's best for him.
Who knows what's best for him? Why should anyone know?
Whatever you feel is best for him, you'll always do what's best for him.
If it works out all right, great, but your intention...
Yes, all you can hope is that he'll feel the love in the intention.
-Sure. -No more than that.
Of course.
You will see that he's happy too.
He will meet other kids and other teachers, not just the two of us.
-We're not teachers. -For him we are like teachers.
He can learn things from other people.
Don't you agree with me?
-I have no idea. -You have to make a decision.
It's the best for yourself, for the kid and for everyone.
Do you think we are in a bad place?
As a couple or separately?
I hadn't considered those possibilities.
I meant us together, but maybe we should ask if we're okay on our own.
-Or maybe not. -Or maybe not.
Is it that bad between us?
-I don't think so. Not for me anyway. -No?
-No. -No.
-I agree. You don't seem to feel bad. -Because I don't feel bad.
A bit stressed with the new lifestyle, but I'm focused.
Yes, you look focused.
So I'm the problem.
I don't know.
It's possible.
I might have a case of delayed PPD.
What didn't happen two years ago is happening now.
I don't know who I am, what to do, how to behave.
Is it that serious? You look ecstatic with Ramón.
Precisely.
The other day I was saying that at times I feel his love is suffocating me.
So much love is unbearable.
We're like the perfect team. We're very good partners.
But...?
But... And this is where everybody would expect me to say,
"But you don't see me",
but when I'm about to say it, I realize that I don't see myself.
I can't see myself, I can't read myself.
-Because of maternity? -I don't know.
Maternity definitely has something to do with it, but most probably it's not just that.
What if it's my age, coming closer to my forties?
I don't know, it might be. A midlife crisis?
My dad had kids in high school when he had his.
I vividly remember teasing him because he was depressed.
I wrote to him saying he was probably only in the middle of his life.
Turns out he wasn't.
The midlife crisis cliché is depressing.
It's a point when you've made a lot of decisions that put you in a place,
and you wonder if it's going to be like that until the very end.
-Well, is it? -What?
-Us, for instance. -Us two?
I don't know. What do you think?
What's meant to be will be.
But I'd try to see what's next, how this develops,
what else there can be between us.
You surprised me there. I thought you were sick of it all.
-Of you? -Of living together.
No. Day-by-day, behind closed doors, we all seem sick of it.
If I lived alone, I'd look sick of it, but without witnesses.
Witnesses are the problem, right?
Witnesses are always the problem.
Maybe we do need to explore this formation a bit more.
But like I said, I can't see it, I can't picture it.
Us?
Myself, to begin with.
And with me, everything else.
I don't know if I'm fine and balanced or totally depressed.
That's how bad it is. I don't know how to read my condition.
As if my health parameters had changed but I didn't catch up.
What's good for me?
Until you're 20, you're tied to other people's decisions,
decisions they made for you.
Until you're 30, you try to confirm or backtrack on them.
And then, now... you reconfirm what you had confirmed
and backtrack on what you'd backtracked or what you'd confirmed.
I see myself in his birthday party and I can't believe
I'm that mother holding the baby.
It doesn't remind me of pictures of my mom holding me.
To me, that was a picture of certainty and resolution.
Now I know that's the last thing it was.
That picture only captured a contingency, a fleeting moment.
It's the context that makes it an image of maternity.
It's our reading of it, our view on it. Our view is everything.
What are we going to do?
How can we prevent things from looking nastier in close-up?
AGAIN ONCE AGAIN