Through my eyes

living my life without regrets

Sunday, January 29, 2012

Naked on a Truck

We took a taxi back when we got off the ferry from Colonia and were close to ‘home’ when a truck streaked past us with, what seemed like nude guys standing on the open truck bed, holding on to a roll bar.
Now, how fast can you pull your camera and take a picture?


It sure was a sight we have not seen before, so it must be recorded. Did I see nude guys on a Truck? Did I see them in broad daylight, on a very wide and busy street running through the middle of BA?
Then I saw the smallest cover, a men’s string bikini!



Our taxi driver seemed blasé about it all; he had to deliver us to Thames, so he hardly looked. For me however it was a first. I just wanted to share a new way of panhandling with you, because at a traffic light, the men jumped off their truck, ran to car windows and asked for money.


What a crazy way to make a living. Or is there more to it? What did I not see?
I could think of a few things those guys could do or offer that would pay more.
Enjoy the pictures!

Colonia do Sacramento

History, wherever I go, there she is. She sure shaped the present and might even be able to show the future. I bump into her no matter what country I visit; I always find her along the way. I like her but she can be mean. Just talk to her and she will tell you strange and vivid stories.
For Colonia she starts talking around 1680. Her first spokesmen were the Portuguese who came to control the shipping on the mighty Rio de la Plata River; to control the import and export of riches found further upstream and to levy taxes. The idea was good, yet across the river was the Spanish Settlement of Buenos Aires and Spain wanted to control the river and collect taxes too. Conflict, the food of history, was served.

And so it began:
From To Rule Reason for Handover
1680 1680 Portugal conquered by José de Garro
1680 1681 Spain Provisional Treaty of Lisbon
1681 1705 Portugal conquered in the War of Spanish Succession
1705 1713 Spain Treaty of Utrecht
1714 1762 Portugal First Cevallos expedition
1762 1763 Spain Treaty of Paris (1763)
1763 1777 Portugal Second Cevallos expedition
1777 1811 Spain Revolt led by José Gervasio Artigas
1811 1817 Liga Federal Luso-Brazilian invasion
1817 1822 Portugal Brazilian Declaration of Independence
1822 1828 Brazil Argentina-Brazil War
1828 present Uruguay

You must agree, it is too complex to include all the details but you can find it all on Wiki as I did.

We hailed a taxi at 7 AM, which took us to the terminal of Buquebus, probably the best and fastest marine service between Uruguay and BA. We took the Superfast Ferry as suggested by Glenda of Supernova. Every taxi driver knows this terminal since a lot of Argentineans travel to Colonia for a weekend get-a-away to just enjoy the old town and the ambiance of this historic place.

So much so, that the town of Colonia, a proper town of about 25,000 Uruguayans, accepts the Argentinean peso as normal payment. No need to exchange any monies, naturally a bit of cheating happened, but it was harmless. Instead of using the proper rate of 3.5 Uruguay pesos for one Argentinean peso, the rate most often used was 3 pesos. Even US $ could be used at a rate of 18 Uruguay Pesos for one US $. Unless you buy something big or visit a museum (all of which require Uruguayan Pesos) it does not pay to exchange money at a bank or exchange office. Let the little entrepreneur make money, too.
We booked a ‘tour’ for the day, which meant we did not have to walk the 6 blocks to town or the several kilometers to the old bullring and Jesuit Seminary
but were driven about in a large bus. We had a small walking tour too, courtesy of Supernova. Our lunch was included in this package and what a lunch it was. We paid for the whole trip, boat, bus, tour, guide and the bus trip back to the harbor a total of US$ 120.- add to that the taxis to and from the bus terminal of Pesos $ 40.- each trip and the grand total for each person was a cool $ 140. It was certainly a bargain.
The historic part of the city is small; it can be covered in less than a one day walking tour if you so desire, but I took only in what I liked best. Intriguing to me were the differences in style of housing and the differences in street design between the Spanish and the Portuguese.

The Portuguese built roads that had a center gutter, the road lower in the middle of the street which made for a better drainage in rain and better air circulation. The Spanish crowned the streets, with the middle being higher and rounded and the gutter being near the sides of the road. The Spanish included high sidewalks to protect the foot traffic from the run offs and the crowned roads made it easier for cart traffic to travel on.

The Portuguese built houses with raftered roofs topped off with clay knee tiles, so called because they use the thighs of the makers of the tiles (mostly women and children to get smaller tiles) to form the clay into tiles. The Spanish used mostly flat roofs so they could use 2 storied buildings and use the top of the roof for storage.

Colonia is a mix of both since each occupation brought new decrees, new ways of looking at life and new styles of construction and living.
The oldest church in Uruguay is located here. Built, destroyed, rebuilt and again destroyed and blown up etc.; it is still the oldest church and quite Spartan on the inside.
The whole of the town of Colonia do Sacramento is filled with greenery; with shade trees and many flowers,

it is very pleasant. It was a good outing for a day, a good trip across the mighty, 290 KM wide Rio de la Plata.
The river, it’s brown but not polluted water brings dirt from the Andes all the way into the Atlantic Ocean. It looks like the ocean itself, but the waters are not salty. Dotted along the shore of Colonia are dozens of islands, tree covered and not inhabited. The whole of Uruguay, from the little I have seen from my small tour, seems very aware of pollution and trash and the people make it a point to not to litter in the first place. A lesson, I feel, that needs to be learned by most of the rest of the world.

Supernova

It helps to have helpful people in a town you do not know.
Meet Glenda Di Lullo from Supernova, the queen of Travel and Tourist Info, posing here with Carol.

Her partner is Sabrina Fendrik.
If you need anything in BA or Argentina, make it a point to contact them @ http://www.supernovargentina.com/ or write sabrina@supernovargetina.com
They are very fast and efficient with a good knowledge of English and located in Palermo, not far from the stop of the Subte “Plaza Italia” on the green D line. The address is # 4275 Charcas.
You have never seen a person on line that fast, while being on the phone at the same time and talking, to you too. Amazing! Very polite, very pleasant and fairly priced! Way to go, Glenda!

Thursday, January 26, 2012

San Telmo

San Telmo is the oldest suburb of BA. It was a Mariners hangout, and full of bars, brothels and houses of ill refute in years back. Certainly, it was Tango Country, and still is filled with Tango Schools, Tango Milongas (Schools),
Tango shows, etc. Today’s houses are no longer the brothels of years back but much quieter, refurbished places, even posh in some spots and the area is quaint and there are plenty of stuffy Antique stores.
Every Sunday, for more than 9 blocks off the Plaza de Mayo, along Defensa Street, BA has a flea market.
It all started as an Antique market but has developed into much more today. Officially the start of the market is the Plaza Dorrego, yet we saw it continue on and on down Defensa St.
This Sunday, rain is promised to break the temperatures of 34 C + (98F) and to cool things down. Rain also means I would have fewer people to bump into, fewer vendors too, but I felt some would still be there. So it was a good day to go and visit. I packed my little red, cheap back pack with water, some tissues that can double as toilet paper and off we go.
Walking to the seven blocks to the Subte is now routine and we know how it works. Our Subte takes us to Cathedral, the end Station. We step out and yes, we look up and watch for bird droppings. The gods are with us; we are not bombarded by birds but after crossing the Plaza de Mayo, at the beginning of Defensa Street, are mobbed by people. Somehow they must not have heard about the weather forecast, most of BA seems to be here.
It is crowded. And this is the summer vacation period for most Porteños. Many locals are not even here as they are on vacation. Police have roped off the street and amazingly it seems very organized.

The merchandize you ask? From A to Z, whatever you can think of is here. You will find from the nutty to the sublime, from kitsch to treasure. It is all in the eye of the beholder. Not a lot of haggling happens here. The price listed is what you pay or you keep on walking. Is it cheap? I don’t know, but it is fun!
I see colorful running shoes (sneakers), airy sandals for the ladies, I see jewelry, smoking Joes (incense burners),
paintings, hats, dresses, musical performers, Tango platforms with dancing, and on and on it goes. The street is long and packed. I find an electric outlet that allows me to plug in my US based plug and buy it for 15 Pesos. I keep on walking. Then I stand still to hear the wonderful performance of a classical guitarist who is fantastic. Even the locals rush to buy his CDs and I buy one for 30 Pesos. All of this stuff goes into my knapsack.

It is hot, no clouds in the sky, the sun beating down on me. The road is cobblestone, so walking is precarious, watch how you put your foot down. There are holes; there might be dog poop on the street. The sidewalks are occupied by the vendors, the visitors walk in the middle of the street, and no shade for the walkers, it is hot. I drink some water. About midway to the Plaza Dorrego a man seems rushing in a raincoat; necktie up in the air, glasses askew in a panicky hurry.
It is a performer, but he is good and makes it look ‘real’ even though he is standing still. He was joined in his performance by another shopper mimicing his actions.
We see a man selling wooden utensils and buy a salad fork and a spoon; both carved out of rare woods and add them to my collection in my knapsack. On the corner stands a man with a gizmo that can make sounds like a rooster in the morning. I pass on that. A bit further, a Tango performance is in progress, a passerby, a Japanese lady, dances with a Porteño and they are both good.
And on and on Carol and I walk. While we started off at about 10 AM it is now about 1.30 PM and time to sit down someplace and rest our bones. It is hot! No rain in sight, not even a cloud. We try to get into a good looking small restaurant, but the door is closed. We look through the glass and yes, a man asked us what we would like and naturally we said, a table for two and he slammed the door in our faces and walked away. Is it rude? Yes, Very rude! But that too can be part of BA. BA is a mix of extremely nice and very opinionated people. We walked on to find another place and did find a restaurant right on Plaza Dorrego. We just sat down, drank some mineral water and I ordered a sandwich. It was good to hang up my knapsack, take my sunhat off and stretch out.
The activities in the restaurant were typical BA, too.
An artist was charcoal sketching a group of 4 at the next table. Two ladies traded the latest neighborhood news one table over and even took this photo of us. Ah, it felt good to be out of the sun, to sit down. The activities around us are abuzz. It is a constant coming and going. A busy place!
Having sat such for some time, we got up and walked one more time around the Plaza, but…. the heat was too great. We walked away for some blocks and took a taxi back to the Subte station and took the train back to our stop at Plaza Italia. Coming out to street level I noticed I had left my knapsack at the restaurant, yes, along with all my new buys. I have no hope in getting any of it back. Naturally it was stupid of me and I blamed my aging brain but it was hot, too.
It never rained that day, I wish it had. I might not have been so worn out and felt so miserable about losing my cheap knapsack.

La Cabrera

Famous for its Beef, Argentina does not only export it but eats it as well. In Palermo Soho, our part of town while we are here, are many Restaurants. So we have been asking folks: “Do you know a good place to have dinner?” Fodor’s has a list of good places, but so do people that have visited BA before us. Fodor’s top choice is the Grillado & Bar named La Cabrera, a place only 5 blocks away from where we live now.
Friends too told us about this place, so Carol and I made it a point to forgo all the other good looking places around us and specifically seek out La Cabrera. www.parrillalacabrera.com.ar
We had already learned that people eat late in BA, it is not unusual to eat dinner at 10 PM and a dinner lasts usually for a couple of hours so that means ending the day with a full stomach and going to bed around midnight or later. Not good for older folks like us so we opted to be there at their 8:30 PM opening, especially since we did not have a reservation. This Restaurant is so good that reservations are recommended. Carol and I lucked out and a table was given to us on the outside, set up on the sidewalk as it is in Paris. The set up with a white table cloth, clean and sophisticated yet with a twist of rustic dining, added to the experience. The atmosphere was totally BA, Argentina. The weather was mild and the people around us were full of energy and excited spirits.
A young German guy and his partner took some pictures of us as we waited a few minutes before sitting down to dine. He told us he was working in Brazil and heard about La Cabrera so they flew in just to eat here. He was totally serious; the reputation of this Parrilla is worldwide.
So our expectations were high when the waiter gave us menus. A man of moderate means and one not to squander money on non essentials, I opted to just order the main course of ojo de bife and a salad. I was warned that the portions are large and that even a half a portion would be totally satisfying. I drank mineral water, yes with bubbles, with my meal and not the much offered wines. There is always room to order more if need be.
The service was good; our waiter spoke Spanish even though he knew we were from North America. He spoke English if we got stuck with words and answered in English if he felt we understood better but it was nice to be served in his language and not to be patronized as a tourist. I never felt rushed and once we ordered, after just sitting for a while drinking our waters, gawking at the passers bye, the meal came quickly and oh my, did it have eye appeal. The salad was served in a large bowl of pewter, brimming full of greens, tomatoes and onions, fresh and plentiful. Fine olive oil and balsamic vinegar accompanied the salad in appropriate bottles in a self-serve, make your own dressing kind of way.
The meat, sizzling, hot, simple but ever so tasty, on a wooden framed hot plate with a handle was grilled to perfection. Four small, mouthwatering side dishes in small containers were placed on a white napkin right on top of the wooden extension of the hot plate.
An assorted variety of unusual small delicacies served as vegetables, such as pumpkin puree with raisins, baked garlic cloves, egged eggplant, mixed couscous, marinated mushrooms, ground green olives, and even apple sauce. The servings were a display of creativity and simplicity yet sophistication. I have been in many places in my life that were impressive and La Cabrera, simple yet elegant can hold its own among them. I was duly impressed.
Yes, I recommend this place to anybody visiting BA. Please make reservations through the website I gave you above, it makes for a better table, for a better experience. The proprietors need to be commended on a job well done in the culinary arts.
And…… the best until last….. All of it tasted
Devine!

Friday, January 20, 2012

Evita

Evita (1919-1953) Requiescant in Pace

If it had not been for the Broadway Musical, would we know Evita today? She was 33 years old when she died of cervical cancer. She was 28 old when she became first lady of Argentina, her husband 26 years her senior. Called the mother of Argentina but also ‘esa mujer’ (that woman), she was (and is) loved and hated still today. Some even want to call her a Saint. She certainly was a powerful speaker, a committed reformer for the socially disadvantaged. The claim that Perónism ruined Argentina is debated politically worldwide still today.

The museum we visited was set up in a former villa that Evita converted to a home for single mothers. Seeing the many displays, videos, artifacts and personal belongings, I could not help but ask myself if I, at the age of 28, could have done what she did. The answer is a definite ‘NO’.
I was too self-centered at age 28, too immature, even too small minded and certainly did not have a ‘world’ vision. So how come Evita had this kind of vision? Did she? Or did she play house or ‘first lady’? From her speeches, that still ring in the ears of many people in Argentina, I must admit she outshone me like a light bulb outshines a lightning bug. But her life was different too.
Eva’s father died while she was quite young

leaving her mother and siblings to struggle to keep the family together and put food on the table. Eva’s determination to help the poor came from her early years and from her life in the poorly paid theatre world. Her mother’s strong will and determination provided a role model that Eva followed throughout her life.
I am impressed by her. I cannot tell if she ruined Argentina by installing all the social programs and giving away the farm or if she truly towed Argentina into the 21st Century through her many reforms.

Not one person alone can change the lives of nearly 40 million people, yet she certainly was a good catalyst. Controversial to be for sure, misguided even in her bleeding heart campaigns, but I do not believe selfish. It might have been her youth that gave way to the ideology of helping the masses. Even today, traces of her doings are in the minds of the people. Health care reform, old age pensions, youth programs and total social restructuring were her guiding principles. She pushed for the equalization of women and their voting rights, for changes that ultimately every modern society in the world today needs. Was it sound? Economically, in the short run, it turned into a financial disaster for Argentina. This undoing of the old thinking, of the male oriented thinking of Argentina, of the dismantling of the hierarchical establishments is what made her so reviled by the establishment. Even today!
Evita was a very controversial woman, a very bright woman and a very sad woman in a way too.
Her illness in the last months before her death was so severe, a frontal lobotomy was performed to ease her pain.

Early procedures of radiation treatments were tried on her. When her husband, after a coup in 1955, was exiled to Spain, her embalmed body was stolen by the military and hidden. She was buried secretly under a false name someplace in Milan, Italy, her body even mutilated in death (broken nose, missing toes, bashed in head). People were forbidden to even speak her name during the Junta regime. Sixteen years later, she was finally returned to the Recoleta Cemetery right here in BA for the rest she deserves.
Evita was a complicated person in a complicated period in Argentina. Yet, as she said herself: “mi vida, mi mission, me dstino!”
The song still sounds in my ears: ”Don’t cry for me, Argentina!”

She did what she did, lived the life she was destined to live.
In a way her life was too short, too painful, too disturbing, I am glad I am who I am, after all.

Cemeterio – Recoleta

Yesterday we had a fine lunch at a place in La Boca, recommended by an artist who had a stand at the Plaza. No, we did not eat at La Perla, the recommended place of the tour guide books. We found a nameless, small place frequented by the locals. The Asada (grilled ribs) we had was great. One portion was enough for the two of us. Food here is mainly beef, grass fed and different tasting than what we are used to in North America. I met lots of people that think it tastes better, more natural than the corn feed, antibiotic laced meat we are used to.
After lunch we jumped back on the yellow line to proceed on our interrupted tour. It was hot, 34 C and sitting on the top of the bus, moving from red stop light to red stop light it became a chore rather that a pleasure to be on a tour. We, again, jumped off the bus as soon as it was near our apartment and took a taxi home. Sweet, air-conditioned, home!
We did not even go out for dinner but ate some Chorizo Sausages we had in the refrigerator for dinner. A slice of bread and a glass of local wine rounded the day off, just fine.

We had passed the famous Recoleta Cemetery on our bus tour and had read much about this place. It is the ‘THE’ cemetery for the most important people of Argentina.

The history of the place is straightforward. At the end of the 18th Century, way out of downtown BA at the time, a rather large Cemetery was established next to a monastic church. With the establishment of the rich district of Recoleta and the moving in of the elite around this monastic place in or around 1820, the cemetery soon became the place for the rich to be buried. Someone, seeing an opportunity, bought the whole of it and even today it remains a private enterprise. Graves are sold to the highest bidders and there are plenty of bidders, the whole of the place is filled up.
Only if a grave is abandoned by the family or the family no longer exists, then it is taken over by the owners of the land and resold. Or if a body is moved by the family, the plot can be sold again. This Cemetery is for the truly top of the Argentine elite and society. Since plots cost Millions of US Dollars, this place, with a total of over 6,400 graves, is a goldmine. Some crypts even have a multi level arrangement, stairs lead down to a lower level, sometimes 2 levels down with coffins stacked on each level.

It is in the heart of the most expensive real estate in BA. Right down the street from this burial site are highest end jewelry stores or boutiques in the world,

The area is very competitive and only the best run stores or the smartest marketing will survive here. This also seems to translate to the cemetery.

Even in death, you have to outdo your neighbor, your competition, your enemy even. The need to be seen, to be recognized, to show you count for something is strong in Argentina.
And yet, they are dead. Dead as dead can be. No matter how much money was spent on the plot, on the mausoleum, on the upkeep, on the image directed towards the living, all are quite dead.
Evita (Maria Eva Duarte Perón) is buried here.

So are other ‘famous’ people, far too many to mention. To see the opulence with which the dead are revered is to understand some of the psyche of Argentina. Belonging to the upper crust bestows honor to the individual and is a deep seated need of the Argentinean people. The display of a recognizable image, an image of being noteworthy, generates pride even after death and seems so important to the deceased and their families. The need for those ‘images’ by the living is nevertheless, translated to the dead as well.
May all those ‘important’ buried people rest in peace!

Thursday, January 19, 2012

La Boca Tango


A good way to see a new city is to use the tour bus, not to take the tours, per se, but to get an overview as to what the new city has to offer. We chose the yellow, hop on/off line, because we saw them a few days ago and knew their starting point downtown. Like Porteños, as the locals call themselves, we now know the subway system. Knowing the bus route is quite another matter and we are still learning. So we chose the yellow bus line, a double-decker arrangement and took a 2 day ticket for 90 pesos instead of the daily for 70 Pesos.
The first points of interest shown to us from the bus were the Cathedral and the Pink House. It became instantly clear that taking this bus would not give us an ‘in depth’ tour but just an indication of the highlights of the city. To show, in general terms, what the city has to offer for later, more detailed explorations. So we bounced along, on the upper most deck, plugged in to a recording, listening to all the details of the construction of a building, of an ‘important’ General, of dates, dates and more dates. Naturally, I just heard the drone of it all and did not retain one building, one date or one important person. All of that does not matter; I am more interested in seeing how the Porteños live, how they spend their daily lives, how they think of themselves. I look pictures of real people, not the monuments or statue of the few and the accolades bestowed. to the selected..
From downtown, the original B.A,. we rode through the town of San Telmo, and we were told we must visit this part on a Sunday to experience the market and street tangos, so we need to come back. Then we were taken to the district or area of La Boca, the Mouth, a formerly swampy area that has always been the working stiff section of B.A. Houses were built with material that was at hand as the owners deemed fit. Electricity was only introduced as needed, so was plumbing. Yes, it is a bit wild looking as far as styles are concerned, yet according to locals is has tremendously improved over the last decades.

This area is home to the famous Soccer club /Club Athletico Boca Juniors/ (CABJ), in its famous Blue and Yellow colors, the colors of the Swedish flag. (The color is based on a Swedish ship in the harbor when the colors needed to be picked). Soccer is a very serious Sport in Argentina; people have been killed if the wrong team was promoted in the wrong neighborhood. So watch which team you route for, make sure you are not in the wrong bar or neighborhood. We are in La Boca, so… Viva la CABJ!
La Boca, a wild neighborhood, formerly seedy, now just a bit dangerous at night. So please leave the area before sun down or leave in a taxi. All the Guide books advise it. But also, please come and visit, we have something to show you, so what to do?

We visited, along with bus loads of people and all of us ‘tourists’ were feeding the local economy, it was frenzy for them, we were their meal tickets. We stepped off the yellow bus at the stop called Caminito.

Let the feeding begin. Even early in the day, around 10 AM, all the stores were open, the vendors in make shift tents had their wares displayed and life was in full swing. Pictures or figurines of Tango dancers were everywhere - Tango! Tango! Tango!

This dance was invented right here, right in the bars around us, right off the pier, right along this waterfront along with the rhythmic music and the unmistakable way to dance it. Amazingly, Tango is still a huge part of this area. In Vienna it might be the Viennese Waltz, but in Argentina, in Buenos Aires for sure, it is the Tango! Born in this seedy neighborhood, constrained by religious values, driven by hormones, it is a dance still evolving. It is the national dance of Argentina, no doubt.
Hold your lady near you, but not too close. No, do not look her in the eyes; you are too suave to admit you like her. But do not let go of her, either. Your left foot steps to the left and you pull her with you, but only until you bring your right foot one step in front of you. While you walk one more step toward her you turn only your upper body towards her. At the pause of the music you pull her in front of you, close this time, and let your upper body take a more natural position again. Yet you look to the left and give her a little rest, or fan her to your right side, show her off to others, from the left, from the right, Until you step once again forward with your left leg and then quickly to the right and wait and sway, waiting for the music to catch up,

just holding her, not too close. Now use your feet to slide between her legs, see what she can do to avoid it or how fast she can move her feet, too. How cold and reserved she can look yet, how close she pushes her body against you. Like a dance of birds, of storks perhaps, gaining good footing during a mating dance. Sensuously pulling, tugging, sliding, circling each other, helping to set the mood yet never admitting it is what each wants. These are movements of back and forth, of danced emotions. Hidden as they might be; shown for all to see but never bluntly stated. The elegance, the basic desires intertwined in the fancy foot work yet controlled with the rigidity of the upper body, the reserved look of the false disinterest.
Tango is Argentina, is Argentina like the Tango?
La Boca, the birthplace of it all, We danced in the streets, danced in the store, to the amusement of the people, of the locals, of the customers, but I did not care. I felt the Tango, I danced it!