11-15 April: Buenos Aires, Argentina

The lovely thing about being young, in college, on financial aid, and participating in a study abroad semester in South America is that it allows the opportunity for spontaneous travel. Last week was Semana Santa, i.e. the week before Easter, which was yesterday, Sunday 16 April. We got half the week off because of the holiday, so i decided to go visit Alonzo in Buenos Aires. Darien, one of my CIEE friends here in São Paulo, decided to come along for the trip. I'm really glad she tagged along because the three of us (me, her, and Alonzo) make for a funny trio. I definitely got my laughs in for the year, hehe. We planned everything just 3 days before the trip (because that's pretty much when we found out that we had practically no classes the following week).

My justification (as a college student with VERY limited funds, there is ALWAYS a justification, at least that a I make inside my head, for spending large sums of money) is the following: when else am i going to go to Argentina? or have the opportunity to travel there? God Willing, whatever career i have in the future will permit me to return again and again to South America, but even so, i wont have such felxibility as i do now as a student. So that's that. Taking advantage of opportunity. Next, it was a good deal considering Alonzo allowed us to stay at his place for the 4 nights we were there. So no money spent on hotels. Third, we spent practically no money on touring the city. Alonzo showed us the BEST time, taking us to many touristic sites, tango dancing, to eat empanadas and carne, etc. The best part of staying in his neighborhood was that we got to see everyday life in Argentina and not just the beautiful downtown and flashy lights at night.

Tuesday, first Day in Buenos Aires...
I spent the night at Darien's and we took a taxi around 4AM to arrive at the airport in time for our 6:20AM flight from SP. At the airline counter, the attendant scared Darien telling her that she might get deported when she tries to get back into Brazil...because she didnt have the little piece of paper with her picture on it that showed she had registered with the Federal Police. The little piece of paper that is the product of our day (or in Darien's case, two days) of waiting endless hours on foot at the federal police station just to get fingerprints. So, the lady told her that they wouldn't even wait to question her as to why she doesn't have the paper with her. They'd just mandate her immediately for deportation..."it's like that in response to the way Americans treat Brazilians when entering the States."

I love how when we travel, we all of a sudden become representatives of the government and lawmakers of our land. Whatever bad that has come from the US imperialism in Latin America over the past bagillion years is automatically transferred on every American Citizen, like the original sin that is somehow genetically inherited by all. Forgive me for stepping up on a soapbox for a second, but although we grow up with the influences and lessons learned in previous times, we are not what our parents or grandparents or great great grandparents did years ago. We aren't the ones that made the laws and declared the wars. Just to illustrate my point, did you know that the Argentinos are still mad at the Chilenos for betraying them in war?? How many years ago??? All of this just blows my mind. I mean, seriously, i know that within each border of each country thrives a different culture and way of life...different ideas, ways of governing, ethics, etc - but that adds to the richness in this world. There is only one earth and we humans are living on it. I don't understand how certain people rise up and start claiming areas of land as their territory, and then forbidding people from entering that territory. Who are we? Land is not a human possesion. We certainly didnt create it. So i don't understand how war and suffering is started over it and in the end just breeds prejudice in all parts of the world. Ukh!

The Baha'i Faith explains that all that's going on in the world today is part of some Divine plan, and as many catastrophes we see happening around us/to us (caused by nature or mankind), there are stronger spiritual forces at work. So we just gotta try to remember that and see the wisdom behind things instead of getting frustrated...which is something I'm obviously still working on. Beaurocracy frustrates me in any country.

SOooooo, we flew from Brazil, on Lufthansa, a german airlines, to Argentina. Never have i been in such a state of total lingual confusion, hehe. You never know whether to say Danke Shein, Thanks, Gracias, or Obrigada. The flight attendents start out speaking to you in german, then maybe throw in a little portuguese, and then see the confused look on your face and resort to english. It was a little less than a 3 hour flight to Buenos Aires, but we almost divereted to Montevideo, Uruguay, due to heavy fog. After circling above the city for half an hour, the pilot decided to try landing. Imagine your normal landing: the plane flies on top of the clouds for much of the flight and then when it begins its descent, you go through some brief turbulence, clear through the clouds and can see the city from however many miles up you are. then it usually takes another 20 minutes to hit ground, right? So we go through the whole turbulence, clear through the clouds thing and 2 seconds later, we hit the ground. The general reaction on the plane was: "What??". That's how bad the fog was folks. incredible. i dont know how the pilot did it, but everyone else must have been impressed too because the whole plane clapped upon touchdown.

Alonzo met us at the airport and we took the bus to his neighborhood to drop of our bags. Buses in Argentina, (and pretty much EVERYTHING for that matter) are much cheaper than in Brazil and the States. Our bus to Villa Crespo (about a 1.5 hour ride) cost 1,30 pesos...i.e. less then 50 US cents (a 20 minute taxi ride to the airport in Nashville costs 30 bucks!!) A bus within the Capital Federal is 80 centavos, which amounts to less than 30 US cents. We got to his place, dropped off our bags, went to lunch at a local pizzaria, and then hit town for a tour of the city. We visited Avenida 9 de Julio - the widest avenue in Buenos Aires, where they have their own version of the pencil monument we have in DC.

Then we went to Plaza de Mayo and the Casa Rosada (their White House, where the president stays). The Plaza de Mayo has an amazing historical tale and has been an active ground for political and social protest. During the military dictatorship in Argentina during the 70s, a group of mothers joined together to form the Asociación Madres de Plaza de Mayo ...group of mothers in search of their children that "disappeared". They would gather in the plaza with diapers wrapped around their heads as scarves in protest of the repressive government. That explains the white panuelos painted on the floor of the plaza.

The Plaza de Mayo is a touristic site, but it still remains an active area of protest. In December of 2001 there was a protest of unemployed leftists, and some of them were gunned down by the police.

Next we visited Puerto Madero - the chiquier side of town. There are so many painted cows there. What I initially thought to be a strong affinity for cows turned out to be an international movement called the CowParade. No, I'm serious. CowParade is an international movement that creates about 250 life-size fiberglass cows, has local artists paint them, has them exhibited for a few months and then has them auctioned off and the money goes to a selected non-profit organization in the region. that's so nifty! dont you think?

According to this article i read, to be able to have the CowParade pass through, your city has to have a large population (around 20 million in the entire metropolitan area), a "cosmopolitan" character, and a highly developed visual arts traditions.

Apparently "the cow was chosen for its inherent nobility: it provides milk and meat and the various products derived from them, while asking very little in return. Since then, more than 4,000 painted cows have "grazed" the streets and parks of cities like Stockholm, Chicago, Johannesburg, New York, London, Prague and Tokyo."

The first exhibition in Latin America was just last year in São Paulo (a few months before i came), and subsequent ones took place in Mexico City and now in Buenos Aires.

Also famous in this part of town is the "Puente de la mujer" - that lovely white bridge you see in the background of some of these pictures.

After exploring town a little more, we headed back home and cooked dinner. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm slightly (or very much so) kitchen-challenged. I'm so kitchen-challenged that i managed to mess up mashed potatoes over winterbreak. I didn't think it was possible. I still blame the potatoes. But i'm pretty sure Paul blames me, hehe. He even drove to and from the supermarket to get the milk...and then made a second trip to his house just to get the gravy packet! SO this fine evening in Buenos Aires was nothing short of a miracle. Leah Chaya Lewis cooked chicken stroganoff. it's a common dish in Brasil - soooo tasty (and happens to have the simplest recipe, which is probably the only reason i was able to make it...but that's besides the point!). This is quite possibly my favorite dish here. When we were in Rio and the Council took us to the same chique Churrasco place for 3 meals straight, i got chicken stroganoff every single time. And now I'll be able to make it whenever I want! (unless this was just a lucky stroke...)

Wednesday, day two in Buenos Aires...
Alonzo had class so Darien and I explored the neighborhood a little bit (i.e. leather shops!) and then headed to La Chacarita Cemetery where Juan Peron (past president of Argentina) and Carlos Gardel (famous tango singer and actor) among other famous people are burried. The thing is, with the exeption of the time Mike's brother took me to the Nashville cemetary for a driving lesson with the philosophy that i wouldn't be able to kill anyone because "everyone's already dead", I never set foot in a cemetary before. I was kinda hoping there'd be some sort of map...or at least a guide saying "A-J burried over here, K-Z burried over there", or something of the sort. We had no idea where the grave was and were afraid to ask someone mourning for their lost loved one if they could please direct us to the grave of their ex-president because we traveled all the way from Brazil to see it. So we roamed around for a good while and then came upon a statue of Evita...makin progress. She's actually barried in another cemetery with the rest of her family. An elderly guy, later to identify himself as Miguel Angel, an aspiring poet, saw us looking around and guided us to the mausoleum we were searching for. Then he introduced us to his other graveyard buddies, one of which is an aspiring tango singer.

Thursday, day 3...
The following day i went out a little early to get my haircut and buy my leather jacket. I just wanted to get my ends trimmed because with curly hair, split ends split faster than...whatever happens really really fast. Plus haircuts in argentina are about 10 pesos...that's less than 4 bucks for a haircut - good deal! I advise Alonzo that it's gonna take 20 minutes MAX, because i'm only cutting the ends, and then i'm gonna go buy my jacket and head back to the house so we can passear for the day. So i sit in the chair and the lady asks me what i want. She layers it in less than 15 minutes and then says other stuff really fast and i'm like "yeah, okay, sounds good" (i thought she was asking if i wanted to rinse my hair before leaving). Next thing I know, I'm sitting in one of those chairs with that plastic helmet hanging over my head getting my hair "deeply nutritioned." My 15 minutes turned into an hour and my hair felt like steaming spaghetti when you just drain it from a pot of boiling water. I think i have communication issues...or just HEARING issues...or maybe lack of comprehension denial syndrom...issues. At this point i'm sure Darien would force me to tell the stories about the rico gordito and apple pie, hehe.

"Manzana es mas natural"
It all started because i had to use the bathroom. There was a coffee shop right next to the ice cream place were were at, but the restrooms were only for customers and I couldn't bring myself to go and then run out of the store. So we grabbed a table and looked over the menu. Alonzo leaves his order with us as he left for the men's room. The waiter comes to our table and I ask him for a green tea. Then he speaks superfast...and i hear: "......manzana....mas natural". So I'm thinkin he's talking about flavors of green tea, so i respond, "esta bien"...Alonzo will take whatever. Alonzo get's back, and soon after the waiter returns with a tray and we all look up with questioning faces "what's that???" and then all eyes turn to me and the expression on my face pleas innocent and denies having anything to do with the big slice of apple pie that appeared with Alonzo's green tea. Meanwhile, the waiter's still standing there with the tray, as we sort out the confusion, hehe. "apple"..."more natural"...now i get it. But in what universe does a more natural apple pie go with green tea?!

"Que rico el gordito!"
Las Palmas is a Mexican restaurant in Nashville. Erica, Jefferson, Gilmara and I went there for one of our last dinners together since it was good food and close to campus. As i was finishing my plate the waiter comes to our table and asks me "te gustó la comida?" (well, that's what I heard) and I respond all enthusiastically: "si, si! me gustó! bien rica!" Except what he REALLY asked was "te gustó el gordito?" !!!! Because i had glanced behind me to look at the margarita pitcher Erica was pointing out (we'd never seen margaritas served out of a pitcher before) and one of the waiters (the so called gordito) thought i was checking him out. Oh brother. That explains the glances and grins el gordito was shooting over to our table, haha.

Anyway, digression closed.

When i finally got back to the house with a haircut and a new fire-resistant leather jacket (the salesguy convinced me when he took a lighter to my arm...so i thought, "oh, this is wonderful...now i have a flame-resistant jacket for the winter), we headed out to Caminito, in el barrio de la Boca - a very touristy place full of lots of artesan crafts and souvenir shops. We roamed around the area for a bit, ate lunch, and then headed to San Telmo, another part of the city....best compared to Pelourinho of Salvador da Bahia. It's a convserved older part of town...very nice. We looked around the open market for a bit and then headed home.

Marcelo, Alonzo's host dad, invited us out to a Milonga - a tango club. The place was called Tango Ideal and that night there was a popular band playing, so it was a great opportunity. The band featured was: Orquestra Tipico, Fernandes Fierro - a group of young guys, maybe in their 20s and 30s playing their heart out in tango. absolutely beautiful. I wish i had bought a CD. After that, we headed to a salsa club that was A-M-A-Z-I-N-G! (when can you ever go wrong with salsa?) Argentinos are incredible dancers. Wearing heels wasn't such a hot idea though.

Friday, 4th day...
We gave ourselves the luxury of sleeping in a little and got up for the next rondeveau of our trip: a visit to Recoleta Cemetery, best known for being where Eva Peron is burried. We walked around Paseo Recoleta and went out to dinner for our last night in Buenos Aires.

Saturday we went to lunch and then caught a taxi to the airport.

Bye bye beautiful Buenos Aires...
We had no problems at the airport and Darien didn't get deported.

a nice layer of smog blankets São Paulo

On the bus ride from the airport in São Paulo to the Metro Station, as i sat watching the sunset, listenin to slow spanish love songs from the music mix i asked Mike to make me, and munching on a bag of peanut m&ms (i'm an addict), i couldn't help but smile inside and thank God for bringing me to where I am today.