Out Came the Sun

This morning I woke up smiling because it was raining. Which seems strange, no? It’s my first day in Buenos Aires all to myself, I have no class and no activities planned. Today is mine.

But, it’s raining. The same splatters of rain that crash into the pavement here are identical to the drops of rain that splash at my homes in White Oak, Rockwood, and State College. The rumbles of thunder remind me that even though I’m thousands of miles away from home, I’m not untouchable by nature. We’re all connected by something, even when it’s not conscious. Too deep, too crazy, too early in the morning? Probably.

The noises in Buenos Aires contrast to those in Somerset or University Park. It’s much different for me to be traveling to class among the workers performing their daily grind. I’m used to being surrounded by students and staff all there for one reason. Nobody really seems to be on the same page in this city. Everyone goes about their business and doesn’t pay much heed elsewhere. I guess what I’m missing about home is the cohesion of a community. Perhaps a good goal for me in the next 4 months is to find a sense of community, be it on my block, within my Tango class, or with other young adults.

Large groups of people are quiet here. Cafés can be silent at times and buses are also eerily quiet to me. Nobody talks to each other much. On the street, it’s just the buses growling and screeching as they move from block to block. The enormous amount of taxis, too.

Not letting the weather get me down, I met for lunch with some friends and ate a scrumptious, personal, grilled veggie pizza at a local and reasonably priced restaurant. I’m excited to go back.

After lunch, we explored the main drag near our houses and found two museums of interest, one being the National Museum of Art Decorations and the other feature the work of a funkier, modern Argentine artist. The first was truly breathtaking. Set in an old mansion, we wove in and out of the high ceiling rooms gazing upon the 10ft+ (or 3.3 meters!) portraits and scenes. The massive paintings, sculpture and tapestries were proportionate to their rooms. I was most interested in the tapestries. The detailed scenes depicted in the art was incredible. I have sketched and painted before and can profess some familiarity with how brush strokes feel and look, but tapestries use a language in which I have no fluency. I find it disappointing that such an incredible art form is rare to come by.

We decided that it would make our lives to attend a ball in this building with large, billowing gowns and our curled hair pinned up into a bun. We would dance to the orchestra’s music, gently played from the balcony. Handsome, eligible bachelors would ask for our hands and we’d dance with grace and the utmost taste, but hurry home before the clock strikes twelve.

The next museum certainly had a different flavor. Xul Solar mastered making crafts from household objects like old brochures, scraps of wood, and string. Not going to lie, it reminded me a lot of the craft room at camp.

Later in the weekend, I traveled to San Isidro, a suburb of BA. The pale pink, brown and white homes offer a different feel than that of city life. There are not as many people crowding the streets and drivers were friendlier, pausing for pedestrians to cross. We toured the cathedral, a museum/house of a woman who was the first woman to do many things in this country (i.e. Vote, drive, divorce - in fact, she broke up with her husband en route to her honeymoon), and an open air market where I found the perfect pair of socks for Norah. They are pink and have llamas around the ankles. I wanted a matching pair, but they weren’t available in my size. Later, we traveled down the coast (of the widest river in the world, 25 miles across at its skinniest and 125 miles at its widest) to a restaurant that looks out over the water. We were served our choice of café con leche, té, or a form of hot chocolate that is hot milk served with a chocolate bar that one melts with the heat of the milk. I stuck with café con leche in fear of I’d totally mess it up. Next opportunity, I’ll try it and report back. We also had jamón y queso sandwiches and so many postrés.

Tango lesson were not nearly as fun this week, but I’m still going to go back because it is such a good way to get a group of people together in one place on Saturday night. After lessons, we go to dinner and people taper off as they tire. On this particular night, we went to a tiny little Mexican restaurant with excellent, spicy foods. In general, food in Buenos Aires is very bland. Lots of pastas with cream sauce, bread and salad without dressing. Garlic doesn’t exist. Basil is rare. Oregano is a big deal. So, my taste buds were very satisfied with the wake up call.

On Sunday the sun was in full blast though it was still quite chilly. I went to the antiques and crafts markets in San Telmo. I was amazed that vendors blanketed the entire square and proceeded 20 blocks in 4 different directions. We took our time walking around and got lunch eventually. I had something that roughly translates to a wild boar sandwich. Oh yeah.

The primary elections for president were on Sunday. In preparation, no alcohol can be sold after 10pm Saturday or before 8pm Sunday. It’s an obligation to vote, so lines were super long at the voting areas. Also, Argentina does not use an electronic system, so each page of votes is counted by hand. Amazingly, the results were still known in time enough to make the morning paper headlines. Christina, a Perónist, is the current president and very much in the lead for this next election. Generally, the middle and upper middle classes hate her, but the lowest classes support her. The next election is in October.