Buenos Aires, Marzo 22, 2009

I have arrived in Argentina and trying to adjust, to first impressions, incorrect presumptions, and new experiences. Argentina is not like Ecuador, if four days can justify that statement. Latin si, mundo tercero no.

BA is a CITY. Big, busy, beautiful, energetic, cosmopolitan, fast, noisy, much more. Despite all my misgivings about taking excursiones, due to my brief time here I did take one my first day, and quickly saw the major tourist photo stops. I can now say I saw them, but other than the documentation and maybe memory, the day was not satisfying, and my thoughts were of the greatfulness of only two days here. Perhaps I was influenced by a 11 hour flight, and remnants of the fears of the unknown on taking this trip.

I saw sights of many parks, not just scattered, but well placed throughout the central parts of the city. Each seemingly was anchored by some statue of historic personage, most unknown to me. Saw the Plaza de Mayo with its many government buildings including the Casa Rosado, from which the famous stand at the balcony to the cheers of their followers. This includes the Perons of course, as well as even Maradona, Argentina´s most famous football hero.

The single highlight of this trip was the area of the El Caminito (little street) in the barios of San Telmo and La Boca. Supposedly the area receives credit for originantion of the tango. Tango appears to be very much a prideful obsession. I have tried a few steps at a dance club in Pagosa, and have no claims of understanding. However, having now witnessed first hand streetdancers in El Caminito, surrounded by street cafes and stores selling tango memories, I can see the charm, the draw. Not sure I will ever understand how the music aligns with step, but the presentation of the dancers exudes as they say, pure romanticism, if not outright sexiness.

Second days somehow seem better. And as on schedule, the pattern repeated. My second day was indeed worth it all, changing that first impression, to darn, need another day. But, I drew in far more than my tour. My very first objective, if only one was to be achieved, was to visit the Museo de Malba, a collecion of latin art, mostly if not all, contemporary. Wonderful and I got so excited to see Diego Rivera, Kahlo, Bolero, and introduction to a new, Antonio Berni. Must find an art book on Amazon about him. Day could not get better, but it did.

Next, to get every minute of the day, with my trusty street map, I headed to a Japanese garden, every bit as beautiful as one would expecte. Peaceful and pretty, quite a refuge from the busyness of the surrounding city.

Next, to another art museum, the Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes. Amazing. Rembrandt, Reuben, Rodin, Picasso, Pissaro, Pollack, Manet, Monet, Modigliani, Toulouse and well, it just keeps on going. All for gratis. This collection is equal, if not better to any I have seen in America, including the Metropolitan of NY and National in DC. My head could not handle it. I believe I was hyperventilating at times.

From there to Cementario de Recoleto. Everybody has to see the Cementary where Eva Peron and others are buried. Her tomb, very simple black stone. She still appears to be much a person of the people. Not sure we as Americans can understand the importance. The cemetary itself is like nothing I have visited. All tombs above ground, family affairs. Not sure there is any room left for the future heros of the country. All stacked, side by side. Each strucuted differently, with its own face, or statues, or doors. Some had vent pipes above. Not sure what that is about, but it certainly is something to think of. Amongst all the rows and rows and rows of rock and concrete and marble, were enough trees to provide shade and semblance of nature. Despite the many tourists, most who appeared to respect the solemnity of the scene, it was indeed a very peaceful place, to visit certainly. I cannot take a stance on the eternal peace of the occupants inside.

By this time, even though daylight, it was late and I was hungry. How does one choose among the many restaurants lining the streets. No se. Pretty much by random I found one, went in at around 8:30 PM, which for BA is actually an early dining time. I can testify to this as the waiters were only begining to set the empty tables when I walked inside. Meal was good. And, no, it is very warm here, and because I was hot, I did not choose the wine, but an Argentinian beer, which was very good. Me gusto mucho.

Quick comments as this draws long. Wine is a much to do thing here. Have not yet tried the Malbecs, but will, and will comment later. As for the differences, more should come, but I was surprised at the size of the folks. I was a giant in Argentina. I do not stand out here. People of all sizes, and mostly, with plumpness to them, which was a total surprise. Not obese, but plump. More exposure as well. No shorts or shirtless in Ecuador. But, here, it looks like Austin the summer. Shorts everywhere, informal attire. Actually very rarely did I see anyone dressed formally, including the Friday visitation, a normal workday. So, enough for this first encounter. I am now in Mendoza and school starts tomorrow.

I gave up the fast lane,
For a dirt rock forest road,
Just burned out on all that talk,
Bout the mother lode
I traded it for an artbook
And a bigger piece of sky
When I miss the good ol´ days
I can´t imagine why.
Still I get restless
And drive into town,
Watch this world through the windows
While it all comes unwound
Its crazy but God knows
I don´t act my age
Like some old desperado
Tries to paint the town beige.
(R.Keene)