Livin' La Vida de Buenos Aires

Not to be direly anticlimactic but today marks the last day of my trip. I have just returned from Buenos Aires after an overwhelmingly short stay there. Just a forewarning…this entry may error on the side of being long-winded. If you don’t like it…you can “suck it” as Sarah Rinzler so aptly says.

We arrived in BA on a Wednesday night and proceeded to catch a cab from the airport to the city center. There was a very peculiar odor in the air…smelled like a giant forest fire and Smokey the Bear. Everyone we asked pleaded ignorance. They would say to us…that’s how it usually smells. Our cab driver almost collided with the gate at the toll booth. I about shat my pants. The drivers here…are, uh, aggressive to put it nicely.

We had made plans to stay at Shannon’s friend Paul’s place and he told us beforehand to bring our sleeping bags. So we did. We arrived at his place on Valentin Gomez at about 11:30PM. We rang the buzzer. No answer. Rang it again. No answer. A kindly man came along and made gesture to enter the building and Shannon told him that we were trying to get a hold of the white guy who lives here in Apt.6. He skeptically let us in and we went upstairs with him. We knocked on Paul’s door. No answer. Meanwhile, I had dropped my bag in the garbage-staging area and was sitting on it. The guy who let us in came out from his apartment with his little beagle. He looked at us with increased skepticism but also with sorrow. We must have been the most desperate looking ladies. So, here Shannon goes making friends again and before we knew it we were in their apartment having coffee with complete strangers. Their names were Carlos and Maria Carmen and they had two teenage daughters who were plucking away at their instant messenger the whole time we were there. They were so kind and excited to tell us all about BA. Paul finally arrived and apologized as he thought we were set to arrive much later.

Paul is entirely lovable but about as quirky as they come. He is a Brit ex-pat who teaches English all over South America. His place is very old but also very nice. Since he had only been there a month, he had acquired no furniture. Hence, Shannon and I rolled out our sleeping bags and slept on the wood floor. The whole time I was there I think I averaged about 3 hours of sleep a night. The urban camping was still amusing though. Even in my final zombie state I had no qualms about sleeping on the floor because I loved the city that much that I wanted to stay there indefinitely. Sleeping on a wood floor.

We were extremely pleased to find that we had coasted into town at the very start of the BA Int’l Film Festival called “BAFICIL”. As all of us are lovers of indie cinema, we elected to see an American documentery called “The Reinactors”. I HIGHLY recommend it. Especially if you want to see Superman smokin’ the grass. I loved the Q&A with the director following the film. He had a personality that I imagine as a cross between Ben Exworthy and Quentin Tarantino. We laughed our hineys off.

Okay. I am getting off the narrative train because I will never finish this entry if I don’t. Here is a list of either places that I went or experiences that I had in no particular order of chronology or importance. If you are so inclined, you can ask me about them individually and I will tell you. With vehement joy and love for this beautiful city.

Palermo Viejo
Mercado de las Pulgas
Hammer pants
McDonald’s Kosher
Soap on a stick
Estilo de Buenos Aires
Clowns
Surfin’ the Subte
San Telmo
Bar Living
80’s MTV Videos
Pirate Bar
“La Bomba Laura”
Tigre (the river delta, not the band)
Recoleta
Freddy Krueger
Bombillos
Mausoleum filled with cats
Street performers
6AM
Lollo
“Zhuzching”
Octavio Caesar
No Monedas

The list, the list. I could go on. There are many discoveries and/or epiphanies I had on my trip to BA, some of which are: #1:Someone needs to make a reality series called “Ricky Martin’s Gay Vacation”. #2: I need to start a blog where I capture and make commentary on the styles of international cities. #3: Shoe shopping is the new treasure hunting. #4: when I return to Seattle, I want to learn how to speak Spanish. Not Spanglish or a collection of idioms, but SPANISH. #5: I want to learn how to sail. Being on the water is where I feel most at home.

Last night after I had recovered from my sleep deprivation, we went to eat in a neighborhood of Santiago that is on the backside of Santa Lucia. It was the best food I have had since I arrived. In the midst of eating, I scurried after a father/son drummer duo to shoot a film. Hopefully, I can get some of these films up on YouTube. Here you go.




Don’t cry for me Argentina. I will come back to you someday. In the meantime, Mama I’m comin’ home.

Many thanks to Shannon, Amy, Patrice, Maria Paz, the concierge at Costa de Lyon, Mario & Friends, Paul, Mauricio (for his fly dance moves), to my co-workers for holdin’ down the fort during my absence and to Tara and Joshua for tag-teaming the care and maintenance of my grey sassy old lady of a dog, Willow.

Besos Y abrazos,

LB