She drove me to an inexpensive looking one floor motel near the Asuncion, Paraguay airport. It was in this vicinity. As you can see, there is this predominant color of red clay everywhere and a complete
absence of high rise buildings. I truly felt that I was “someplace else” now and that I was somehow irretrievably “out of sync” with the rest of the orchestra. The next morning, a driver comes to the motel and books me on the plane from Asuncion to Buenos Aires. I never paid for the plane ticket or the motel in Paraguay. They were all, by means unknown, “taken care oƯ”. When I got oƯ the plane in Buenos Aires, I was met by the assistant to the orchestra General Manager. She said, “Joe, everybody in the orchestra is so worried about you!” She drove me to the elegant Sheraton Hotel- a far cry from the motel I had stayed at in Paraguay.
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