Farewell Argentina

Some final thoughts on my trip to Argentina.

Not exactly the Chrysler Building of New York City.

Argentina is a cultural sponge. Argentineans absorb all they like: language from Spain, dreadlocks from Jamaica; pasta from Italy; architecture from France; and music from all of the Americas. Trendy and historic intermingle in Buenos Aires, as though dancing a Tango.

I found the people of Argentina to be generally warm and welcoming despite having lived through some rough periods. During the “Dirty War,” when the military took control of the government, between 10,000 - 30,000 civilians died, many of whom simply “disappeared”. Civilian control was restored in 1983 and less than two decades later in 2011 the economy was devastated as Argentina defaulted on its debt, the largest default in world history. Yet, Argentineans seem quick to laugh and appear to enjoy life, for which I admire them greatly.

I also found Argentineans to be patient with my lack of ability to speak Spanish. If they could not understand, they encouraged me to keep trying. Communication trumped pronunciation, for which I was truly appreciative.

I’ve become a true fan of renting apartments when I travel. My second apartment in Buenos Aires was also clean, comfortable and had a nice view from the 11^th floor, and it was cheaper than a hotel.

Studio apartment in Recoleta, Buenos Aires

In 2008 my travel mantra was “pourquoi pas” (why not?) It was the ideal travel mantra for a year when I quit my job and spent five months in Paris. For 2011 my New Year’s resolution and travel mantra was “let life unfold.” As I traveled through Argentina, I was able to go with the flow and let life take its course. I enjoyed a very pleasant trip.

I hope to return someday to see the southern half of Argentina: the Lake District, Patagonia and Ushuaia - the city at the end of the world – and then head off on a cruise to Antarctica. Oh, and I want to see some dinosaur bones. Argentina is the home to more dinosaur remains than any other country, so that would be really cool.

Every evening, guards retire the flag that flies in front of La Casa Rosada. Sueños dulces – sweet dreams.

The Argentinean flag all balled up with sun in the center.

 Farewell Argentina. Until we meet again.

Chau Buenos Aires

There's No Place like San Francisco

Toward the end of any trip I start to think about returning to my home town of San Francisco. And as we all know, there’s no place quite like San Francisco.

As I was passing through Plaza de Mayo -- you know the plaza in front of the Casa Rosada (Pink Palace) that I made fun of earlier because it’s pronounced as pla-tha de ma-jyo -- I noticed a lot of rainbow flags. Not the rainbow of seven colors we learned about in elementary school, but the rainbow with six colors designed by a San Franciscan to commemorate gay pride. Yep, I had stumbled upon the Marcha del Orgullo (gay pride march) of Buenos Aires.

Just as in San Francisco, people wrap themselves in rainbow flags.

 

 

Being Latin America, there’s a touch of Mardi Gras as well.

 

 

And there’s lot of pretty things to look at.

And some not-so-pretty things.

And some more pretty things.

And some more not-so-pretty things.

The gay pride march in Buenos Aires is not as commercial as it is in San Francisco. The floats are simple and don't have corporate sponsors. And a strong political tone remains, demonstrated by the rally in front of the Casa Rosada where the President has her office.

And “the gays” (a nod to Kathy Griffin) love their president. The Putos Peronistas (roughly translated as Queer Peronistas – think Eva and Juan Peron) have their own float. The banner proudly displays Evita on the left and former president Nestor Kirchner and current president (his wife) Cristina Fernandez de Kirchner in the center. Can you imagine a float in San Francisco with a president’s face so proudly displayed? Neither can I.

The crowds grew bigger and bigger. And I grew more and more impatient. So, I headed out before the march headed off to Plaza de los Congresos.

As I wandered around on my final afternoon before heading to the airport, I stumbled again. This time on El Barrio Chino. Bienvenido a China Town. And though China Town is just a little over two blocks long, you can find some of the same stuff (okay, crap) in Buenos Aires as in San Francisco.

 

And as a bonus, there are even a few sushi restaurants in China Town. Oy vey. After a 15-minute tour it was time to say "chau" to China Town.

Once again my thoughts drifted toward San Francisco. UAL flight 846 departs at 22:05 for SFO. There’s no place like San Francisco.

Seven Things to Know about Argentina

1. Helado + pan + pasta = panca. Some Argentine helado rivals Italian gelato, and ice cream shops are everywhere. Pan (bread) is regularly served with meals, and the bakeries/pastry shops are quite good. And, as we know, there is no shortage of things Italian in Argentina which explains the prevalence of pasta. What does it all add up to? Panca. (At least that’s how I think it’s spelled.) It’s from the word “pan” and it means fat, pudgy, doughy, pleasantly plump. Yes, it’s safe to assume that the leading causes of big butts in Argentina are: Ice cream, bread and pasta, Yum!

2. Big butts = big toilet seats. The toilet in my apartment in BsAs was designed for something a little wider than I have to offer. Maybe it’s time to visit more of those ice cream shops, bakeries and Italian restaurants.

 3. Public primping is encouraged. The mirrors in men’s restrooms are big. This is useful because men spend a lot of time fixing their hair. And I’m willing to bet they spend more money on hair products than women. Both men and women can be found checking themselves out in large reflective windows while reinforcing the reputation Argentineans have for being good-looking and very appearance-conscious.

4. Argentina is a Catholic country with easy access to condoms. If you need a condom, stop in at the men’s room in a mall or in a hotel. Besides, vending machines are much more convenient than standing in line at the pharmacy. Does this mean that all of the primping and hair-product pays off?

5. Bring your own change.  Automated teller machines seem to only dispense large bills, yet businesses always ask if you have something smaller. It’s not uncommon to see signs that say “No 50s or 100s accepted.” To be clear, 50 Argentine pesos is about $12US. And, Argentina is no longer cheap – it’s just that no one has change. It’s the responsibility of the customer to arrive with the proper bills and change. Once when I was at a supermarket, the cashier didn’t have proper change, so she rounded-up and gave me back a few extra centavos. But best of all was when I was getting a bite to eat at the end of my day at Iguazú Falls. The cashier did not have enough coins, so she gave me some gum to make up the difference. I wonder if the vending machines at the mall take gum?

6. Buenos Aires is sometimes called the Paris of South America. Typically it’s a reference to the architecture, but I can’t help wondering if maybe it’s a reference to their love for dogs – and what they leave behind.

Actually, I think Parisians are now much better at poop-scooping. Okay, there may even be a couple horses contributing to the problem.

7.  It’s chau, not adios. I haven’t heard anyone say “adios” in Argentina. I suppose if they did, it would be “a-Dee-oth” which I might not even recognize.

Ciao for now. Or rather “chau por el momento.”

Rules of the Road

In Argentina, there are two rules of the road. Number one, if you are a driver, don't hit anyone. Number two, if you're a pedestrian, don't get hit.

When it comes to pedestrians and cars, the right of way belongs to the one who doesn't lose their nerves. It's really just a game of chicken. If you hesitate, then the other person has the right of way.

Going for it.

Look closely. In the center, not to the left or right.

There's plenty of room for cars and pedestrians in BsAs.

Two-or three feet is considered a safe distance between car and pedestrian, and when possible cars should swing wide into the intersection and cut in front of any pedestrians who dare to step off the sidewalk and into the street.

 

Because of previous blog postings, I feel obliged to state the obvious - Argentinos drive like Italians.

Walk around at night and you'll see most taxis have only their parking lights on. Headlights are not required and are just a waste of electricity in big city Buenos Aires. Hop in one of those taxis and you will discover the seat belts are neatly tucked away presumably to protect the plastic-covered seats. I was in one taxi where the seat belt worked, so apparently there is no law against functional seat belts.

I imagine sometimes pedestrians fight back. And the battle-charred cars are left on the street to remind drivers of the consequences of failing to master the dance between car and pedestrian. In the land of the Tango, timing is everything.

When pedestrians revolt?

However, there is no time to dance on Avenida 9 de Julio, the widest road in the world with up to sixteen lanes of traffic. In the center is el Obelisco which towers 67 meters (220 feet) above la Plaza de la Republica. For a close up of the obelisk – run, don't walk, across La Avenida. And remember, sometimes an Obelisco is just an Obelisco no matter what else it may appear to be.

 

 

Wearing a helmet while on a motorcycle or scooter also appears to be optional – even if you have one. It is Argentina after all, and there is no sense burdening people with anything that might mess up their hair.

Yes officer, I have a helmet right here.

My favorite motorcycle scene was of a family of four. The five year old son was up front, dad was driving, and daughter was squeezed behind papa y mama who was holding on to the back to keep the family together. Unfortunately they were moving too fast and I was not able to whip out my camera to capture a photo.

If you visit Argentina, regardless of your sense of rhythm or your musical preferences, there is one guarantee - you will learn the Traffic Tango.