The Dog Days of Spring

Dogs. I woke up this morning to barking dogs. Barking and fighting. Apparently, these are the dog days of Spring. Yes, it’s spring in the southern hemisphere and I am enjoying the warm sunny afternoons – like a dog. Like a lot of dogs.

Córdoba

Córdoba is the second largest city in Argentina with a population of 1.3 million people and has the best-preserved colonial architecture in Argentina. Being from California with a mission here and a mission there, I was impressed by the number of colonial churches all within walking distance of my hotel.

Córdoba’s Iglesia Catedral was begun in 1577 and took two centuries to complete. My brain spins thinking that a church in Argentina was being finished after two hundred years - and at about the same time the United States declared its independence. I can grasp that in Europe, but South America?

At the entry to the Iglesia Catedral is a tribute to General Jose Maria Paz. Yes, she has a sword and boobs. Was General Jose Maria Paz a Joan-of-Arc-type hero? A female general who died in 1854? It turns out the general was a guy, and the statue was just a tribute. Damn. Jose “Maria” sent my imagination down a much more interesting path.

The streets of Córdoba are inhabited by a variety of colonial masterpieces.

Iglesia deCompania de Jesus is a fascinating church. Designed by a former ship builder and completed in 1671, the vault is made of a cedar-like wood and resembles an inverted ship’s hull.

 During a guided tour I was surprised to learn that many of the people who helped build the church were slaves. Though most references to slavery in Argentina have been painted over, a few artifacts remain.

Córdoba, like Buenos Aires, is reminiscent of a European city with its grand buildings, statues and tree lined canals.

Local color can also be found hidden amongst less grand brick and cement building.

Upon returning to my room, I discovered that not only was the Hotel Córdoba Savannah not representative of colonial architecture, it was apparently under major renovation. I could only wonder – on Monday morning will I wake to barking dogs or jackhammers?

Córdoba – What a difference a day makes

Despite arriving at my hotel at midnight, 12 hours later than planned, it’s Saturday night and I feel compelled to walk around. My initial impression of the area is not good. My hotel seems to be in a sketchy area: dark streets, young people heading to clubs; a guy shouting “puta” at me from a passing car.

I wake up early Sunday morning after just four hours of sleep, to the sounds of dogs barking and hotel guests slamming their doors. The walls are painted lime-green and void of any decoration. The room has a funky smell coming from the bathroom. I begin searching the internet for another hotel.

At breakfast, I observe the other guests for clues of the sketchy quality of the hotel. They seem like normal people. Still, I think it is best to try to talk my way out of the next three days of my reservation.

The woman at the reception desk whose name starts with an “M” – Maricella or something similar, speaks no English. But she is incredibly friendly, and with the help of Google Translate and my limited Spanish I learn she would be happy to change my reservation but that she can not because it was made through an online agency. I don’t fully understand. Sigh. But “M” is so sweet and so friendly, and by the end of our conversation I am resigned to staying at the hotel. "M" also has me laughing and considering excursions. Apparently Córdoba’s reputation for friendly people is well-deserved after all.

I head out for the day. It’s Sunday morning, the sun is shining, and well-dressed families are heading to church a block away. What a difference a day makes.