My Travel Journal of Buenos Aires

On Monday, July 17^th, two days before I left BA, I found out that Jaee Logan, one of the students that I tutored in Oakland died from bullet wounds in a case of mistaken identity.  He was one of my brightest students and was making great progress in school and only 14 years old. When I found out about his death, I decided I would dedicate my last blog entry and blogsite to him, junto con mis familias.  His family and local officials have started an organization called SAVOY (Stop All Violence On Youth).   

 

You can support and get more information on SAVOY at www.jaeelogan.com and   

http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2006/07/19/BAGT6K1CNC1.DTL

Wednesday, July 19^th was my last day in the city of Buenos Aires.  I walked around the neighborhood of Once and down Ave. Cordoba, Corrientes, y Callao taking pictures of the Palacio Congreso and the building where I lived (which you can see in the Los Barrios album); and I bought dulce de leche, mate y bombilla. 

Also Yolo and I went to a restaurant, and I ate my favorite Argentine dish: milanesa con papa fritas.  It was a sunny day, and I was sad to leave the people and a place that I had just barely gotten to know but eager to start on my new journey back in the states.  Several hours before my flight, Lorena met me at the apartment, and I said my goodbyes to my Argentine family.  She accompanied me to the airport shuttle (when you arrive to BA airport take the shuttle not the bus), and we said our goodbyes.

 

Ideally I wanted to write my last blog entry while I was still in BA. However there was so much I wanted to write and experience at the same time that I couldn’t find time to sit at a computer for hours like I did today and just type it all in one sitting.

I have much respect for all those bloggers out there.  When you know that your friends and family are going to be reading what you write, you make an extra effort to be more descriptive, proofread and edit and edit some more, and become a good writer.  (A personal diary is so much easier and much less of an effort.)

Overall I had a great time BA and Pico and living there was a much more intense urban experience than San Francisco.  SF and the Presidio especially are like a country club compared to mega metropolises like BA and NYC.  I only wish that I had more time to get to know the people, the area, and Spanish much better. 

When I returned to the states I knew I was missing BA when a couple of months later, I ordered dulce de batata, dulce de leche and two bags of mate from an online Latin foods website.  Now I drink mate everyday; it’s actually full of vitamins and minerals and is very good for you!  I feel like such an Argentine now drinking my mate!

 

Quiero decir !Muchas gracias a mi familia internacional (mis hermanos Gabriel, Paula, Lorena de Uruguay y su madre, Rafi "Dinero", Yolo y sus hermanos argentinos Hernan y El Gato, Jessuina, la duena del otro apartamento, la hermana gringa, Craig y Pablo, Dynnom y su novia, la hermana del Rio Negro, la hermana de Silvia, y el hijo de Silvia y su esposa y nino),  Mis companeros de clases (Ohad, Giuseppe, Lisa, Janine, Bret, Claudia, Daria, Tille, mis profesores, y mas), Silvia, Lorena y tu familia (sin vos, yo no tenería un bien viaje)!  Voy a continuar practicando castellano. 

 

(And if anyone knows if there's a job that I can get translating Spanish song lyrics, let me know.)

One day I visited an exhibition about the Malvinas war.  It was the last day of the exhibition and I didn’t want to miss it.  The Malvinas War is still a sensitive subject, and the only thing I can say right now is that the situation is at a stalemate.  The Malvinas Islands were occupied by the Spanish, French, and English.  As I tried to comprehend the islands' history and the extensive timeline from the 1400s to today, I could tell it was complex.  England ended up occupying the islands (which they call The Falklands), and in 1982 Argentina made an effort to reclaim the islands. 

“Why would England still be interested in islands thousands of miles away with only several hundred British citizens and hundred of thousands of sheep?” asked Skidmore and Smith in Modern Latin America.  

Perhaps UK imperialism didn’t want to let go of that time when “the sun had never set on the British empire.” Margaret Thatcher wasn’t having it and Ronald Reagan supported her.  In the same year the war began, the British Naval Fleet successfully thwarted Argentina’s attempt to gain the islands.    

The exhibit was filled with war memorabilia--soldiers' helmets, empty ammunition shells, tattered uniforms, shoes, pictures of veterans, and letters from children to the soldiers.  Then there were pictures of the islands and it just looked sad and desolate and a harsh environment to live.

As far as I know, the Malvinas Islands are still under British sovereignty, and according to wikipedia, Argentina claims the islands, too. 

In my On the Street Where I Live blog entry, I mentioned that 12 years ago AMIA, the Jewish Center, across the street from my building, was bombed, and about a hundred people died.  July 18^, 2006 was the 12^th anniversary of that infamous day, and I was here to witness the commemoration ceremony.   

Several blocks were barricaded and security was everywhere.  The day before the event I met the president of AMIA and a (military) officer who wanted to use the apartment as a lookout, security post.  The officer asked me questions, “Why was I in Argentina?” “What did I do in the states?”, etc.  I came to find out that he knew some people who worked at homeland security in San Francisco!  He was also handsome and had an accent that had a strong Italian influence—it was so nice listening to him talk! 

On the night of the 17^th, there was a speech given about the Jewish plight and the anti-Semitic terrorist attack.  Everytime we left the barricades, we had to go through a security guard to re-enter and get back to our apartment.       

The following morning about seven guards entered our apartment and headed towards the balcony.  Yolo was nervous and scared. Later on she told me that “Los Rambos” had bazookas and all kinds of guns and ammunition.  Thankfully nothing happened. The ceremony was conducted without any disturbances or attacks; and there was no need for security.  My landlady told me that this was the first time that they wanted to use her apartment.

After the event,  AMIA listed several propositions on one side of the building; basically they wanted an extensive investigation into the attack and all of  the perpetrators caught.  If I recall correctly, there were also quotes from government officials about the intentional laxity and carelessness given to the case. 

If you want to join the cause and/or learn more about what happened you can visit the website below...

http://www2.jus.gov.ar/Amia/Default2.htm

Almost everyday I walked by AMIA and saw the list of the victims who died from the attack. A list of the victims is given below at

www.atentado-amia.com.ar/memoria

I know some of you are curious to know if I ever found out if BA had a black neighborhood.  Well everyone told me no.  However at Bellajamba one of my roommates Argentine friends told me that there is a community but no “neighborhood” in the sense that there’s a certain area in the city where blacks live.  Also my landlady told me that about 25 years ago or so a significant number of West Africans (especially from Senegal) immigrated to Argentina.  If you visit las ferias, you will see West African men selling jewelry and beautiful gold chains.  I didn’t see any black hair salons, either.  I guess they braid their hair at home. 

On a much lighter note, here's another Argentine rock group, Bersuit Vergarabat, whose song and video Sencillamente I fell in love with! ¡Qué romántico y tierno!  If I translated correctly, the chorus "Dame sencillamente lo que mas te guste" is "Give me simply what pleases you."  Isn't nice for a guy to get more in touch with his feminine side?

One of my favorite things to watch on BA television was the music videos!  One of the Argentine artists I really liked was Gustavo Cerati.  The lyrics to the song "Crimen" are very sad and depressing (the crimes of love), and the video invokes the style and mystery of classic film noir movies.  I hope you enjoy it!    

After all the hustle and bustle of the city, it was time for me to visit the quieter side of Argentina.  My friend Lorena and her brother were visiting their family in Pico for a weekend and invited me to go with her.  I was happy to go and visit another part of Argentina. 

 

Fuimos a la Estación Terminal de Omnibus en Retiro. It was huge; there were so many bus companies!  When we got on the bus, all the seats were like first-class seats of a major airline.  They were big, plush, comfortable, and roomy!  (Greyhound needs to check out the BA buses and make some serious changes to the outdated US buses.) 

 

The day before we left, I asked Lorena if she wanted me to get any snacks for her for the trip, and she said “No, they provide food on the bus.”  And Yes, they served sandwiches, drinks, even alcoholic beverages! They also provided you with a blanket and pillow.  You could even watch movies!  (A cross country trip in Argentina by bus seemed doable; I should’ve planned for a trip to Patagonia or Bariloche or Mendoza!)  After several trips in a bus like that one, I wouldn’t want to fly again.       

 

Before we left BA,  we ended up changing buses because our bus had a flat tire or engine problem (if I remember correctly).  And the seats were still nice and comfortable.  In our less than ten hour trip, the land became flatter and the towns smaller.  We were heading into La Pampa: La Tierra de los Gauchos.    

 

When we arrived in Pico, Lorena’s mom and dad welcomed me with open arms and gave me a kiss on the cheek.  Suddenly I began to feel a bit homesick.

 

Pico is located in the northeastern part of the province called La Pampa which is geographically noted for its low flat lands.  Cattle and agriculture are the main industries here similar to the Midwest of the US.  Even though it felt like a small town, Pico is the second largest city in La Pampa, according to wikipedia.com.  

 

My trip to Pico involved meeting Lorena’s family, friends, and neighbors—basically becoming a part of the family.  I attended a birthday party, and I ate a lot of delicious, home cooked meals.  And I drank lots of mate!  I looked at Lorena’s family album, including her parents wedding album (they looked like James Dean and Jackie O.) and her pictures from her days at the Presidio.  I also visited her father’s store which he named after her mom!  ¡Que romántico! 

 

Furthermore that weekend there was a cultural festival.  During my last weekend in Argentina, I was finally going to see los gauchos!  (It wasn’t planned that way; it was a coincidence that they were having a folklore dance festival in Pico at the same time that I was hoping to see traditional dancing and gauchos before my trip ended.)

 

That weekend there was a parade of gauchos and traditional dancers in Pico!  I was so excited and apprehensive at the same time. (You know how I like those men on horseback!)  The dancers’ dresses and suits were colorful and I particularly liked the blue suits worn by the male dancers who also wore black, flat top hats (see the Pico photo album). 

 

The gauchos are somewhat synonymous with US cowboys.  Just think of Clint Eastwood in a western film and all he represents (the strong, silent type; a hero; anti-establishment; an American icon) and you’re getting close to understanding the imagery and symbolism of los gauchos.  Now all you  have to do it read up on your Argentine history and you’re almost at the finish line.  Probably the most famous literary gaucho is Martin Fierro, an epic poem (I heard it was a huge book) written by José Hernández.  Hernández epitomized the gaucho as the national symbol of Argentina. In fact I watched an award show where the winners were given a Martin Fierro statue.  While I was in BA, there was a movie that came out about Martin Fierro. 

 

During the festival I was introduced to chamamé, the folkloric music of Argentina.  When I first heard chamamé, it reminded me a bit of norteňo music because one of the main instruments is the accordion (brought to Mexico by German immigrants) and the rhythm is polka/waltz. The main instruments in chamamé are the guitar and bandoneón which is similar to the accordion. (I had to freshen up on my Music of Latin America notes.)  I guess spending so much time in BA, all I knew, saw, and heard about was tango. Tango is the music of the BA streets; chamamé is the music of the Argentine countryside. 

 

If you want to listen to the folkloric music of Argentina, go to this website…(the internet is an amazing tool!)…http://www.chamame.com.br/radio.htm

 

Overall I had a wonderful time in Pico; and I just want to thank Lorena y su familia for welcoming me into their homes and for their immense hospitality!  ¡Muchas gracias para todos! 

One Saturday night three of us norteamericanos and my argentine hermana went to a club in Palermo.  Mi hermano norteamericano befriended an Argentine woman who told him to check out this club called 74.  He was just learning Spanish, and we spent about half an hour in a taxi trying to find Club 774 when in fact it was Club 74. After much trial and error and language barriers, we finally found the club.  However his friend wasn't even there yet. 

 

Now when I walked into this club and heard the disco music blaring from the speakers, I thought I had walked into The Twilight Zone (feeling like I was in a time warp and seeing people dressed in costumes including an alien) and the movie Back to the Future.  I thought that I had traveled back to the 70s to find my mom or dad in a disco club to make sure things didn’t go awry so that they would get married and I could be born.  Furthermore I felt like I was in Michael Jackson’s Billie Jean video because the floor was lighted with different colors. (Check our their website below.)

 

When we arrived, the DJ was playing early disco and funk and songs that I’d never heard of before.  Mi hermano and I headed out onto the dance floor.  Even though I wasn’t feeling the music, I told him that when I was a college undergrad, “Whenever the music wasn’t good, my friends and I used to pretend that we were having fun and I danced like a fool.” We probably looked like a couple of clowns, but it was fun and he took a picture of me next to the alien.  (If I can get in touch with him, I’ll add that photo in the Mi Familia y amigos photo album. Now I know the advantages of having a digital camera!)

 

As the night went on, the music actually got much better.  They played Barry White’s “My First, My Last, My Everything,” “Ring my Bell,” “Stomp,” and other well known songs by Kool and the Gang, The Bee Gees, and others that I have on three cassette tapes. And it wasn’t long before the dance floor was packed!  The woman who recommended the club eventually showed up, and all of us danced in a circle. 

 

Next they played 80s music, and I thought this was the coolest club ever!  "Take on Me" by Aha, "Footloose", Culture Club, Big Country, etc.  Later on I met another “Mr. Hugs” and got away when he was about to turn into “Mr. Kisses.”  

 

Around 2am we went to another boliche called Pagana located across the street from the  Recoleta cemetery.  They were playing all kinds of music—from popular dance music to AC/DC to grunge.  I thought it was interesting that they didn’t play any R&B or hip hop.  I think they even played Milli Vanilli!  It wasn't worth the money.

 

Overall I liked Club 74 much better.  But we stayed in Pagana until 6 in the morning. (People were still in the club when we left!) Then we went next door to McCafe where mi hermano y su amiga ordered coffee.  We saw the sun rise, and we talked and walked all the way back home.  (No wonder my sleeping schedule was all messed up! )    

 

You can check out Club 74 at www.club74.com.ar

You remember the cute German guy that mentioned in the Chicos Lindos blog entry?  Well he invited me to hang out with him and his friends at a bar called La Cigale located in the Centro and one block from the huge avenues that bordered Puerto Madero. 

 

It was a Tuesday night and when I reached the bar I was met by a line that extended to the end of the block!  I went to the front of the line to see if Tille was in line, and I saw that he and his friends were already inside sitting at a table near the front window.  It was about 10pm, and I thought they must’ve gotten there before nine!  After twenty minutes or so, I finally entered the bar and got to their table.  I met Tille’s friends who were another cute German guy, a German woman, and an Argentine woman. The bar was small, packed, and noisy; and if I recall correctly France had won a football match that day.  The crowd was mostly international—predominately French; and there were a couple of black French women.  At our table we were speaking Spanish and German (not me of course).  The night went on and about 1am, we left to go to a boliche called Bahrain located only two blocks away.

 

If you’re interested in going to a boliche in BA, make sure that you check the club’s website to enter the guest list and get in for free or for a discount.  Tille did just that earlier that day, and we all paid a lower fee. 

 

Once we entered the door of the club, the first floor space was empty, and there was a large curtain in the background. It resembled a theatre or ballroom.  We went downstairs to the basement where the music was being played.  The DJ was spinning drum ’n bass and there was mostly an international crowd.  We got something to drink and sat down and talked some more in the lounge area.  The lounge room had this beautiful display of patterns that looked like a photomicrograph of a mineral. 

 

Then we headed out to the dance floor.  Tille’s friend and the Argentine woman were getting mighty close, and when the music got rey fuerte, Tille and I went back to the lounge and hung out there.  We talked about (all in Spanish!) future goals and where we lived, and all that jazz.  He was so adorable in that cool, geeky way with a babyface—a cross between Harry Potter and Jack Osbourne.  (I sincerely mean that as a compliment, too!)

 

I don’t know what time it was but it was in the wee hours when we decided to leave.  The couple was getting hot and heavy, and they left together in the opposite direction from us.  I told Tille in the states, we would say that they were getting their groove-on!  Then I asked him if he’d met anyone.  (And now that I’m writing this almost six months after the fact, I realized that if he had met someone else,  Why did he invite me to hang out with him?  Oh well, that would've been a whole nutha language to learn.) He said that he had bad luck with las mujeres!  C’est dommage!  I should’ve gotten his email and kept in touch with him! Merde!