|
South America 2002 There's something I want to start with.
| "Museo de Jamon" |
|
| The Museum of Ham |
I know, I know. You're just as excited as I was. But get ready for a big disappointment. Far from the incredible interesting educational historical perspective on ham, on the inside it's just a bar and restaurant. And they don't even have bacon. So let's move on.
I should probably start with the Catedral, since that's where the Spanish, those ever so Catholic grand chaps of Europe, started.
|
| The Cathedral? |
And here's a minor complaint. It looks more like a public library or maybe a courthouse or morgue than it does a cathedral. And it isn't as if the Spanish were architecturally clueless. The city is cram packed with beautiful buildings. And yet, here, blah.
It's a shame you can't see the inside because San Martin (you remember him, right? Liberator of Argentina, Chile and Brazil?) is buried there. An incredible tomb with an incredible crystal skylight in the roof shaped like the sun. You can't take pictures in there because it takes a little piece of someone's soul and Catholic God gets angry. Or something...
But on the outside there's this thing.
|
| Outside the Cathedral |
The plaque says something about San Martin and the Unknown Soldier being buried here. To the right you can see the eternal flame that is always burning except sometimes when it goes out.
The red paint is there as a protest. Apparently the church didn't really say anything from 76-82 when the military government was killing those 30,000 people. Not even a "hey, come on guys, killing is wrong, ok." The people were, understandably, upset. Thus the red paint. Which maybe the church is upset about, but in my opinion they should be happy they didn't end up getting paraded around the square stuck on the end of a pole, so red paint is kind of a lucky thing when you look at life that way. Can't help it, I'm an optimist.
|
| Founder Guy |
Next I hopped around the corner to take a picture of this statue which is the founder guy. I forgot his name, but I think it's Garay. There is a little doubt because there are two founders of Buenos Aires. The first was this guy who got his ass kicked by the locals and ran back to Spain. The next guy founded a city that lasted until now. Which was Garay. I don't think the first guy gets any credit, so pretend it was Garay anyway because if I got my ass kicked out of a country, I shouldn't expect them to go willy nilly tossing up a statue in my honor.
As luck would have it, a few minutes later was the changing of the guard wherein the guard walks into the Cathedral and changes (either people or clothes and I couldn't figure out which) and then heads back out. I took a picture for you. Sing along, won't you.
|
| The Guard, Changing |
Next up was a stroll out to Puerto Madero. As you spanish-o-philes may have already figured out, this used to be a port. Now it is an upper class hangout with tons of expensive restaurants and a cool old boat.
|
| Cool Old Boat |
There is also this world famous (for architect nerds) funky drawbridge that swings out to the side instead of up.
|
| Funky Bridge |
Further up the street (though if you were really me taking this picture you would have to walk backwards a long way to get there or at least turn around first before walking) there is the club/restaurant/disco Divino Buenos Aires. It's a pretty ripping cool building that looks like it is covered in boat sails. It's huge. The disco floor alone can hold 1000 people, and there are four restaurants or so in addition. The building, before becoming a hangout for the elite, was originally a soup kitchen for the poor founded by Eva Peron. Damn she would be proud.
Next up was my trip out to El Cementerio de Chacarita. I went there to see the tomb of Carlos Gardel. He sang tango. Died about 15 years ago and people still weep openly about it. When I told one woman that I was thinking of working in Buenos Aires because I might be able to earn an American salary (which is a relative fortune here), she said I could live "like Gardel." So he's something. It's a tradition to put a burning cigarette in between the fingers of his life sized statue at the tomb. I really wanted to have a picture of me putting a burning cigarette between his fingers. Not only did my camera crap out, but I wasn't able to buy cigarettes because no one would break my large bill. So you really didn't miss anything. I did manage to find a little tribute to Juan Peron, which is pretty lame considering there isn't any statue, though there were some cigarette butts down there.
|
| Poor Juan |
I'd like to have a picture of the Peatonal, but basically it is just a pedestrian walkway with a bunch of shops. So picture a tile pedestrian walkway with a bunch of shops. There are a lot of people who set up rugs in the middle of the walkway with anything from cheap nail clippers and underwear on up to leather jackets. One night Nicolas and I were walking down the Peatonal, and all of the street vendors were in a group arguing about who got what spot. Apparently the mafia was in charge of the spots. Nicolas says the mafia is in charge of everything, but he's Italian so of course he thinks that... Maybe he's right.
I really wish I could get a picture of me and my tango teachers. Maybe I'll break down and buy a disposable. They're great fun and they don't scream at me anymore which is a good thing. Liliana is a better leader than any of the guys, and the old guy (have no idea what his name is) is one suave bastard. He teaches me things.
That's about it for now. Have to go and hard-charge through Saturday.
|
