This is my last full day in Buenos Aires, and I’ve pretty much seen everything I wanted to see, so today I’m focusing on a place somewhat off the beaten path-the Belgrano neighborhood. This of course was only after I wasted about half the day screwing around first with trying to cash traveler’s checks at the American Express (long story, best left untold), and with my subte pass (a shorter, but even more deadly dull story). This left only about a half day for exploring.
Belgrano is a little further north of the city centre than Palermo, and at one point was a separate city that was the provisional seat of the then national government. Its two different neighborhoods in one. The main thoroughfare, Avenida Cabildo, is an extremely busy commercial street filled with somewhat downscale shops, restaurants, and bars. On either side of the avenue is a more upscale residential neighborhood. Three main plazas dominate the vicinity. Plaza Belgrano, a block off of Cabildo, is a pretty heavily used park of about a one block size, where people seem to spill into from Cabildo. Between Cabildo and the Plaza is the Church of the Immaculate Conception, a round dome church resembling something more eastern in nature. As is my custom, I stopped in to say a prayer for safe travel and for my family. Usually when I do this there’s one or two others in the pews, tops. This day, a Wednesday afternoon, there were at least 20 people sitting very quietly. The second is Plaza Noruega, on the other side of Cabildo. This neighborhood is a little more middle class than the other side, but it has a little more eclectism and flavor. Think Belltown in Seattle. The third is the Barrancas de Belgrano, about six blocks east of Cabildo, and the largest. Unlike other Buenos Aires parks, it has a lot more variety in landscaping, and has many designed “terraces” giving excellent prospects below. The feel is pretty quiet, and contrasts with the bustle of Cabildo just blocks away. Here is where I found a true supermarket as we would think of it. At said supermarket, they sell both caviar and maid’s uniforms, which tells you all you need to know about the neighborhood.
With time running out on the day, I spent a little time buying presents for people back home (which have to be flat enough to fit in my already jammed luggage). Then I grabbed an excellent couple of pieces of cheese pizza at Las Cuartetas on Avenida Corrientes, which the hotel owner had recommended. It dates back to the 1940s, and has that kind of “cheeburga, cheeburga, Pepsi, Pepsi” feel. The pizza was incredible, albeit consisting mainly of good crust and a huge swath of oily, tangy cheese. No tomato sauce to speak of.
With what daylight that remained, I headed to Plaza del Congreso, up the street from Plaza del Mayo, and site of the National Congress. This was the scene of protests against the military junta against the so-called “Dirty War” the military carried out in the late 1970s. Surrounding the fairly large plaza are several Italianate design buildings, and the National Congress. The building looks somewhat similar to the US Capitol building (something else of ours they copied). This afternoon, the Plaza is abuzz with a “demonstration.” As I approached, I heard a loud, steady and constant drumbeat, and saw an area filled with blue and white flags. A speaker was being amplified throughout the plaza, and I thought maybe this was another chance to catch some authentic South American political unrest. Sadly, it turned out to be a demonstration by Aerolineas Argentinas workers in favor of a bill to privatize the airline. I was disappointed. I’ve seen stronger political protests from homeschooler moms. Nonetheless, given the surroundings, it did evoke the crowd scenes in Bananas (“from this day on, the official language of San Marcos will be Swedish. Silence! In addition to that, all citizens will be required to change their underwear every half-hour. Underwear will be worn on the outside so we can check. Furthermore, all children under 16 years old are now... 16 years old!"). Most people just went about their business and paid little attention, which would have made New Yorkers proud.
Then I headed back toward the hotel, stopping again for some mall (albeit Galeria) barbecued chicken with spinach, to pack and get ready to go to Iguazu Falls.
I’ll end my entries on Buenos Aires by running down a few more things I’ve noticed about the lifestyle and people here. In many ways these are little things, but the little things ultimately combine to create a culture, an outlook, and a place’s identity.
The police cars are all really small. The biggest was a Chevy Impala. When more than one cop gets out, it looks pretty funny as they have to peel their large bodies out of such a small car. Has kind of a Keystone Cop spirit to it, and hardly strikes an intimidating image.
Everyone hugs and kisses when they greet, even men (although there’s somewhat less kissing involved with men). The Parisian three kiss routine you may have seen in the movies is pretty common here. If people don’t kiss they will at least give a hug, and not the feeble “laying on of hands” style hug, but a real, warm, let the big bear get in there abrazo. Women often walk together arm in arm.
At night when the shops close, a small army of little kids and what would appear to be their parents start digging through trash sacks looking for food. The cops apparently tolerate it, even in the heavily populated Florida pedestrian mall. On the other hand, you don’t really see these people anywhere during the day. Next time you’re worried about something idiotic like your cable bill being too high, or whether the restaurant didn’t give you enough sauce on your pasta, thank God you don’t have to dig through trash every night of your life.
A lot of the historic buildings have signs that say something along the lines of “historic building, please do not write on.” This seems to imply that it’s ok to write on other buildings. Reminds me of the old Steve Martin line about the magnificent European buildings, which he realized as he was spray painting his name on the Cathedral at Chartres.
Eggs in grocery stores are never stored in a refrigerated case.
When you buy a coke or similar drink in a bottle, you will always be given a small cup or a straw to drink it with. No one ever drinks directly from a bottle.
Every meal is consumed with not just some, but lots of bread. Huge bread baskets are brought to the table. The South Beach diet would be hard to do around here.
You don’t see many people wearing wedding rings. With men that’s somewhat understandable (not necessarily acceptable, but I can see that more easily than women not wearing wedding rings). What wedding rings you do see are almost always plain gold bands. I saw only one or two of the American-style diamond with gold or platinum style wedding rings during my whole time here. Now, I have no way of knowing whether this is that people aren’t married here, or that they don’t wear rings. Would be interesting to know.
I have seen a great number of intersections without any traffic lights or stop signs. How people avoid collisions at these is beyond me, given the high speed most people drive around here and their aversion to slowing down for pedestrians and such.
There's a huge number of stores on every street called "locutorios" where you can pay to use the phone. Some also have internet access. I've also noticed lots of working pay phones throughout the city. Apparently the cell phone hasn't made quite the in-roads here it has in the US.
Finally, I hadn’t realized the bliss I was enjoying until someone just had to burst the bubble. Up until then, I’d been enjoying a tremendously deserved respite from Dallas Cowboys Fan. You know this person—the Cowboys are the best team in the NFL every year, no matter what their actual record. Tony Romo is the best quarterback in the league, Terrell Owens is the best receiver, and so forth. This attitude is pretty much garbage, given that this team hasn’t won a playoff game in over 10 years. Cowboys Fan, you’re one riot away from being Raiders Fan. Anyway, my last day in town, I saw some guy wearing an Emmitt Smith Cowboys jersey. Talk about a downer. But Jerry would have loved it-seeing the reach of his obnoxious marketing.
My final verdict on Buenos Aires: meh. Its ok. I’ll bet if I knew Spanish I would have enjoyed it a lot more. Its always better when you can talk to the locals and get firsthand information on the best places to go and things to do. The air, ironically, was horrible and it really began to become overpowering. I judge a vacation city on whether I’d like to live there, and make no mistake, I absolutely wouldn’t like to live here. Maybe if I was fluent in Spanish, and had a cool job…it might not be so bad for awhile, but I expect the lifestyle, and lack of good jogging places and cajun food would probably get to me fairly quickly.
Belgrano is a little further north of the city centre than Palermo, and at one point was a separate city that was the provisional seat of the then national government. Its two different neighborhoods in one. The main thoroughfare, Avenida Cabildo, is an extremely busy commercial street filled with somewhat downscale shops, restaurants, and bars. On either side of the avenue is a more upscale residential neighborhood. Three main plazas dominate the vicinity. Plaza Belgrano, a block off of Cabildo, is a pretty heavily used park of about a one block size, where people seem to spill into from Cabildo. Between Cabildo and the Plaza is the Church of the Immaculate Conception, a round dome church resembling something more eastern in nature. As is my custom, I stopped in to say a prayer for safe travel and for my family. Usually when I do this there’s one or two others in the pews, tops. This day, a Wednesday afternoon, there were at least 20 people sitting very quietly. The second is Plaza Noruega, on the other side of Cabildo. This neighborhood is a little more middle class than the other side, but it has a little more eclectism and flavor. Think Belltown in Seattle. The third is the Barrancas de Belgrano, about six blocks east of Cabildo, and the largest. Unlike other Buenos Aires parks, it has a lot more variety in landscaping, and has many designed “terraces” giving excellent prospects below. The feel is pretty quiet, and contrasts with the bustle of Cabildo just blocks away. Here is where I found a true supermarket as we would think of it. At said supermarket, they sell both caviar and maid’s uniforms, which tells you all you need to know about the neighborhood.
With time running out on the day, I spent a little time buying presents for people back home (which have to be flat enough to fit in my already jammed luggage). Then I grabbed an excellent couple of pieces of cheese pizza at Las Cuartetas on Avenida Corrientes, which the hotel owner had recommended. It dates back to the 1940s, and has that kind of “cheeburga, cheeburga, Pepsi, Pepsi” feel. The pizza was incredible, albeit consisting mainly of good crust and a huge swath of oily, tangy cheese. No tomato sauce to speak of.
With what daylight that remained, I headed to Plaza del Congreso, up the street from Plaza del Mayo, and site of the National Congress. This was the scene of protests against the military junta against the so-called “Dirty War” the military carried out in the late 1970s. Surrounding the fairly large plaza are several Italianate design buildings, and the National Congress. The building looks somewhat similar to the US Capitol building (something else of ours they copied). This afternoon, the Plaza is abuzz with a “demonstration.” As I approached, I heard a loud, steady and constant drumbeat, and saw an area filled with blue and white flags. A speaker was being amplified throughout the plaza, and I thought maybe this was another chance to catch some authentic South American political unrest. Sadly, it turned out to be a demonstration by Aerolineas Argentinas workers in favor of a bill to privatize the airline. I was disappointed. I’ve seen stronger political protests from homeschooler moms. Nonetheless, given the surroundings, it did evoke the crowd scenes in Bananas (“from this day on, the official language of San Marcos will be Swedish. Silence! In addition to that, all citizens will be required to change their underwear every half-hour. Underwear will be worn on the outside so we can check. Furthermore, all children under 16 years old are now... 16 years old!"). Most people just went about their business and paid little attention, which would have made New Yorkers proud.
Then I headed back toward the hotel, stopping again for some mall (albeit Galeria) barbecued chicken with spinach, to pack and get ready to go to Iguazu Falls.
I’ll end my entries on Buenos Aires by running down a few more things I’ve noticed about the lifestyle and people here. In many ways these are little things, but the little things ultimately combine to create a culture, an outlook, and a place’s identity.
The police cars are all really small. The biggest was a Chevy Impala. When more than one cop gets out, it looks pretty funny as they have to peel their large bodies out of such a small car. Has kind of a Keystone Cop spirit to it, and hardly strikes an intimidating image.
Everyone hugs and kisses when they greet, even men (although there’s somewhat less kissing involved with men). The Parisian three kiss routine you may have seen in the movies is pretty common here. If people don’t kiss they will at least give a hug, and not the feeble “laying on of hands” style hug, but a real, warm, let the big bear get in there abrazo. Women often walk together arm in arm.
At night when the shops close, a small army of little kids and what would appear to be their parents start digging through trash sacks looking for food. The cops apparently tolerate it, even in the heavily populated Florida pedestrian mall. On the other hand, you don’t really see these people anywhere during the day. Next time you’re worried about something idiotic like your cable bill being too high, or whether the restaurant didn’t give you enough sauce on your pasta, thank God you don’t have to dig through trash every night of your life.
A lot of the historic buildings have signs that say something along the lines of “historic building, please do not write on.” This seems to imply that it’s ok to write on other buildings. Reminds me of the old Steve Martin line about the magnificent European buildings, which he realized as he was spray painting his name on the Cathedral at Chartres.
Eggs in grocery stores are never stored in a refrigerated case.
When you buy a coke or similar drink in a bottle, you will always be given a small cup or a straw to drink it with. No one ever drinks directly from a bottle.
Every meal is consumed with not just some, but lots of bread. Huge bread baskets are brought to the table. The South Beach diet would be hard to do around here.
You don’t see many people wearing wedding rings. With men that’s somewhat understandable (not necessarily acceptable, but I can see that more easily than women not wearing wedding rings). What wedding rings you do see are almost always plain gold bands. I saw only one or two of the American-style diamond with gold or platinum style wedding rings during my whole time here. Now, I have no way of knowing whether this is that people aren’t married here, or that they don’t wear rings. Would be interesting to know.
I have seen a great number of intersections without any traffic lights or stop signs. How people avoid collisions at these is beyond me, given the high speed most people drive around here and their aversion to slowing down for pedestrians and such.
There's a huge number of stores on every street called "locutorios" where you can pay to use the phone. Some also have internet access. I've also noticed lots of working pay phones throughout the city. Apparently the cell phone hasn't made quite the in-roads here it has in the US.
Finally, I hadn’t realized the bliss I was enjoying until someone just had to burst the bubble. Up until then, I’d been enjoying a tremendously deserved respite from Dallas Cowboys Fan. You know this person—the Cowboys are the best team in the NFL every year, no matter what their actual record. Tony Romo is the best quarterback in the league, Terrell Owens is the best receiver, and so forth. This attitude is pretty much garbage, given that this team hasn’t won a playoff game in over 10 years. Cowboys Fan, you’re one riot away from being Raiders Fan. Anyway, my last day in town, I saw some guy wearing an Emmitt Smith Cowboys jersey. Talk about a downer. But Jerry would have loved it-seeing the reach of his obnoxious marketing.
My final verdict on Buenos Aires: meh. Its ok. I’ll bet if I knew Spanish I would have enjoyed it a lot more. Its always better when you can talk to the locals and get firsthand information on the best places to go and things to do. The air, ironically, was horrible and it really began to become overpowering. I judge a vacation city on whether I’d like to live there, and make no mistake, I absolutely wouldn’t like to live here. Maybe if I was fluent in Spanish, and had a cool job…it might not be so bad for awhile, but I expect the lifestyle, and lack of good jogging places and cajun food would probably get to me fairly quickly.
Tomorrow-on to Iguazu Falls and the jungle.
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