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.