Buenos Aires - Day 2

One of my newest co-workers used to live in Buenos Aires when in college, and she kindly gave us a list of places to visit while we’re here. Now Becky’s a really nice person, and she loves the Tango (and salsa,) so you can imagine that the vast majority of places she suggested we visit included something about the Tango. There’s even a place that we must visit that has wall paintings of the Tango. Now I enjoy a good Tango every now and then too (having danced it the last time I was here – 15 years ago), but I’m not so sure Rich and I are as into it as much as Becky. But ya gotta love her for it.

One of the areas listed was the Recoleta market where the artisans sell their goods, and another is an area called Palermo for funky shops and restaurants. And surprisingly, neither had anything to do with the Tango. So those were our first choices.

Our other co-worker, Randy, isn’t due to arrive until tomorrow, so it appears that today is going to be a nice bonding day between Rich and myself.

Rich and I got to Recoleta at about 10:30am and walked around looking at all of the jewelry, leather goods, clothing, and all of the stuff you’d expect from a market such as this one.  Nothing much that really caught my eye (of the crafts that is, however, there were other architectural sights that were quite interesting), but nice crafts just the same.

One thing I did learn; shopping with a guy is quite a different experience, as opposed to, let’s say, my wife. Rich was totally agreeable to anything I wanted to do, and I was the same. So when we needed to make a decision on which direction to walk, one of us would say “that way” and the other would just follow along, no complaints, no discussion. Easy. That’s pretty much the way it went the entire morning. One of us would say, “let’s go …” and the other would just agree.  Strange, very strange. Is that the same when two girls go shopping?

Now Diane and I have been married for 31 years, and I don’t remember a day where we had that simple of a discussion about who wants to do what and which way to go and when and how and for how long. It’s usually more of something like - I’ll say, “Let’s do this,” and she’ll say, “Is there shopping there?” And I’ll say, “Dunno, I want to see the sights.” And she’ll say, “But I want to go shopping first.” And on ad nauseum until she wins and we go shopping. So the situation between Rich and myself almost had me stumped and questioning my sanity (can this be true?)

At one end of the market is an old cemetery that is a tourist attraction because of the mausoleums, as well as it’s the cemetery where Eva Duarte Peron is buried. So we go through the gate and get immediately accosted by a British woman with a very thick British accent, pushing the cemetery map for 8 pesos. After listening to her for just a short period pointing out where the more important people were interred, I couldn’t take it any more and gave her the 8 pesos, and we went in. Here I was in Argentina listening to a worker with a British accent. Now believe me, I love the Brits, and wouldn't mind living across the pond for a while, but my mind wasn't prepared for this in a Spanish city.

The cemetery is an interesting place. I visited when I was here in ’96, which is why I wanted Rich to see it as well. He was impressed. All of the crypts are extremely ornate as you can see in the accompanying photo.

Here I am showing that I haven't a clue how to model in front of someone's crypt.

Not sure how much value those interred got for their money, but I sincerely hope they are doing well in the afterlife. These things must have cost a small fortune – and in many cases, it was probably a large one.

After paying our respects to the dead, we did our final tour of the market and decided to go on to the next recommended location – the Palermo section.

The problem with locating the Palermo neighborhood is that there are three areas with the same name; Palermo Soho, Palermo Hollywood, and a Palermo botanical garden area. I had emailed Becky about which one we should go see, and all she could reply was that she didn’t recall exactly, but just ask anyone, including the cab driver. So that’s what we did. We grabbed a cab and asked the driver to take us to Palermo. Unfortunately he didn’t speak a word of English, so we pulled out the map and pointed to the areas of Palermo and said, “shopping y comida” Shopping and food. “Ah!” he said in Spanish, “shopping, si.” So he began to drive.  

We drove for about 5 minutes when the driver pulled over to the curb in an area that initially looked about normal for an urban shopping area. However, when we paid the fare and got out of the cab, we found that the driver had just taken us to the local shopping mall, in Palermo. Ugh! Not exactly what I had in mind, and memories of my Budapest trip going shopping were starting to inflict serious mental disturbances.

Suffice it to say that Rich and I immediately agreed that this is not exactly what we wanted to do or where we wanted to be. So we kicked around some ideas of what to do and where to go, as we had no idea of where the “funky” section was. And of course, I had no idea of how to say “funky” in Spanish to a cab driver or anyone else. However, I am a bit pleased with my 1^st grade Spanish that took me 6 years to perfect – from 7^th thru 12^th grades. Ordering beer and water in Spanish, and Empanadas (in Spanish they call them – empanadas, so that’s an easy one) has been a great help. Trying to tell the cab driver where we want to go, obviously hasn’t.  But I digress.

So we reconsider our options, look at the map once again, take a reading of the sun with my sextant (ok, I didn’t bring a sextant –but I did use my iPhone Google maps app), and decide to check out the botanical gardens. It’s only about 6 blocks away, so not bad. So we begin the hike.

When we arrived, we found that there was virtually nil growing except for some love proffered by some serious kissing between a pair of 20-somethings. It’s the middle of the summer and nothing is really blossoming right now – with the obvious exception for hormones that apparently flower any time of year.

So we head back to the hotel to regroup, and ask the concierge where the real Palermo can be found. But first we have a snack.

We go into a restaurant that Rich had pulled one over on yesterday. The story he tells is that while I was doing my thing back at the hotel, he took a walk and went into this restaurant to have some tea – which he did. When he went to pay for it, all he had was a 100 peso ($25) bill. For some reason they couldn’t change it, or didn’t want to, and told him his drink was free. What a deal.  So Rich felt bad and wanted to repay the favor by going back. Very nice of him. In retrospect, I think he wanted to pull the same stunt, but we ate too much and had the proper amount of cash this time.

At the hotel, the concierge pointed out the area in Palermo where we wanted to go, and after some rest we headed back out.

We grabbed a taxi, whereby I pointed out the center of the boxed-in area on the map where we wanted to go. I was simply making sure that we weren’t going to another shopping mall.

We get to the area…and it’s great! There’s lot’s of people, restaurants, interesting stores, more craftspeople on the street, and just a nice fun atmosphere. Perfect! In the center was a band doing their thing. Very cool. And we didn’t have to go shopping. So we walked around a bit checking out all of the sights, and for two guys walking around the streets in this area, in the summer, there’s lots to see (wink, wink.)

So we hung around and walked around and drank some beer around and saw the sights around and just kidded around for a few hours, and as it got dark, headed back to the hotel. And all without argument. Wow.

So at the end of the day I thought - why can’t a woman… be more like a man? (inspiration: My Fair Lady)

Tomorrow is more street fairs with couples doing the Tango, face painting, and other oddities. Yes Becky, the Tango. See ya then. Ciao.