It was nearly autumn when we arrived in Buenos Aires this year. I had asked our friend Camila to arrange for a remise (a livery service) to meet us at the airport. Carolyn ducked into the bathroom while I searched for the driver. While I waited I observed that there were way over a hundred or more people waiting to greet the passenger who were arriving. In the U.S., there are almost none. This says something about the Argentine culture.
When Carolyn returned she said that she found the driver near the exit and told me to follow her. As we neared the exit, Camila and Tito appeared. It turns out that it was one of the twenty plus official holidays that are honored in Argentina and they decided to come to the airport themselves. It turns out that Carolyn encountered Camila in women’s bathroom!
After dropping off our bags at our airbnb, we headed to Cantina La Mamma Rosa … where we always go for lunch after our arrival.
The following day, Camila arranged to exchange our U.S. dollars for pesos. We had already learned that the value of the peso had dropped a whopping 50% since our March, 2018 trip. We had brought several hundred dollars worth of pesos home last year, so we inadvertently joined the Argentines in their pain of inflation and devaluation … we had lost half of our money. It was even more shocking to realize that the $100 peso note was now only worth $2.50 USD. One day we stopped at a bakery and I tried to pay for some pastries with a $2 peso note. The woman looked at me as if I had lost my mind. She said that they are worthless and no longer in circulation. It’s difficult to understand how people in Argentina manage their finances.
One of the most noticeable physical changes in Buenos Aires is the replacement of the lovely and nostalgic street lights that used to grace the intersections and streets. Their light was a soft, warm yellow as only incandescent bulbs can provide. Well, they are gone; replaced by hideous, harsh LED lamps that are at least 300% brighter. That’s why taking hand held shots “in the dark,” (above and below) is possible. The streetscape of the city is forever altered. Moreover, rather than a warm temperature, they chose a cool white.” It’s awful. Juanjo calls them ferocious!
After knowing me for 14 years, Camila finally revealed why everyone takes one look at me and instantly knows I’m a Yankee: My teeshirt gives me away.
Argentine men (most, but not all), don’t wear a teeshirt under a shirt. The exception is that if they do wear a teeshirt and a shirt, the shirt must be left unbuttoned. I immediately tried wearing a shirt without my teeshirt. It did not go well. I’ll have to stick to wearing my shirt unbuttoned.
Universities in Argentina don’t have sports teams. Instead, they focus only on education. And for those attending a public university, it’s a free education. The consequence is that there are numerous athletic clubs throughout the city. Some focus on one particular sport; others embrace a variety. The one thing that many of these organizations have as a part of their facilities is a restaurant. These restaurants are usually casual, inexpensive and offer an extensive menu. Most tourists, I imagine, don’t know about these restaurants, because they don’t always have clear signage, as is the case with El Bochin, above.
maté ) leads to confusion because maté is a drink that is popular among South Americans. It’s prepared by steeping dried leaves of yerba maté in hot water. Maria explained that the cups are also called maté, not “maté cups,” which makes discussing maté, in this context, somewhat confusing. In other words, saying that the Alejandro is “making maté” means that he is carving the cups. Cups for maté. Of course, if he reaches for yerba maté and hot water … he going to be “making maté.”
Alejandro collects exotic hardwoods, as well as more common hardwood, like cherry. He cuts the branches into rough shapes (above) and then carves them into sinuous shapes that are pleasing to the eye and hand. It was interesting to pick them up. Some were every light; other felt almost as heavy as stone.
Short story: At one point during our trip someone interjected “I.T” into our conversation, which quickly became confusing. After backtracking a bit and some clarification, we learned that Haiti is pronounced exactly like “I.T.” in Spanish.
Recommendation: Our friend Constant, who is a movie buff, recommends the movie Louisiana Story.
