Four days in Fair Winds

Buenos/as días, tardes, noches a todos. Here I will share with you the tale of my latest grand adventure. This one took place in the attractive and very spacious capital city of Buenos Aires, Argentina.
It all started with my friend and fellow North American Rachel incessantly bugging everyone in our program group to join her on her trip to la capital. You see, her friend from home, and that friend's family, decided to holiday in Argentina over Spring Break. And seeing as how Rachel was already conveniently in the country, the arrangement was made to meet up in BA (Buenos Aires). For that reason, for a long time all I heard from Rachel in just about every other sentence was, "So yeah, why don't we all go to Buenos Aires next weekend?," or, "Yes that's an interesting point you just made. I think we should continue this conversation in Buenos Aires next weekend" or something to that effect. I, like the rest of the group, just sort of shrugged off the idea initially. I had just had a fun filled and busy weekend with the wedding and dealing with the aftermath. Everyone else had just come back from their adventure in San Rafael, so we were all looking forward to a calm four day weekend ahead.

But then I remembered, "Oh wait, that's right, I'm in Argentina!" The sense of adventure came rushing back, coupled with the eagerness to explore new lands, and the indifference to the cost of such an endeavor. By Tuesday my mind was made up. By Wednesday, the tickets bought. Then there was a lull Thursday... But on Friday the excitement was back ten fold! I had JR's Jansport camping backpack jammed with clothes, toiletries and a binder full of homework that would never see the light of day for the entire trip.

I got home late from class after wandering around downtown searching for a cellphone vendor from whom I could buy a SIM card or "Chiip" for the cell my host father lent to me. I eventually found one, after walking for an hour and a half (time which was pleasantly broken up by a run-in with an Argentine classmate of mine (Luis, a professor of English, French and German who is taking classes for fun (let's see how long I can stretch out these useless parenthetical remarks (maybe just a little more)))). So after that fiasco, I managed to get home, shower and pack the last of my junk in a hurry, then ask nicely if my brother Jorge would take me (yes in the clunky Fiat) to Rachel's house. Which he did.

I relaxed at Rachel's for a little while, and played with her disgusting dog, until it was time to leave. Just before heading out, she told me about how she went to the IFSA Butler office (our program office) and registered our trip with them, (they like to know where we are (Man! Parentheses are cool!)) and how our program director, José called her into his office before she left. "Here, I have a present for you guys to take on the trip! Take one for Michael too." She told me he was very excited. The presents turned out to be individual tea bags... with José's name inscribed on them. Needless to say I still have the teabag. It's a new goal of mine to take it everywhere I go in the country. I'll attach a photo.

Rachel and I were the only ones who decided to make the trip, I think because we're the most adventurous. So we left her house and headed to the bus terminal, and on the way I had my first experience with an ATM in this country. It's a bit intimidating when you can't really figure out exactly how much money you're taking out, and the lady behind you is swiftly losing patience while you blunder with the buttons in Spanish. But I managed.

Upon arriving at the bus terminal (after a very pleasant chat with the taxi driver about American movies and Cadillacs) I had another first: public restroom. I entered the lavatory and was immediately confused by the man sitting behind a toilet paper and soap-laden table, with a dish full of tip money at his side. I headed for the privacy and security of a stall, but the door wouldn't close all the way, and I got stage freight. So I ended up just pretending to wash my hands and paid the man at the table for a paper towel I didn't use, without looking him in the eye.

Apart from those minor uncomfortable situations, the trip was off to a great start. We asked the travel agent when booking our tickets which seats would have the most leg room, and she recommended those at the front of the bus on the second floor in coach. So, we sat at what basically felt like the helm of the Enterprise. It was awesome! Two huge windows right in front of us provided a great view of the voyage. Granted, between Mendoza and Buenos Aires there's a whole lot of nothing to see, but it was still nice to look out. When I say "nothing" I do mean it in the literal sense. Pennsylvanians like to joke that between Philly and Pittsburgh there's a whole lot of nothing. Au contraire, I have seen "nothing" folks, and PA is not it.
We had a weird dinner on the bus, declined to play Bingo with the rest of the passengers (bizarre), and tried to distract each other from the horror that was "Mission Impossible 2" playing on the TV in front of us. After a less than restful night we arrived in the capital.

After wandering around for a while inside and outside the terminal (I had the bathroom situation under control this time), and being solicited by several pleasant, but probably devious criminal taxi drivers, we were off to find our hostel and discover the city. A Canadian couple gave us a map after I asked them in Spanish where they had found it, and with that in hand we found the hostel and the friend's hotel.

The rest of the day was spent visiting a few touristy spots in the city. After unloading at the hostel and meeting our roommates, we headed out for lunch. We found a great little pizza place and ordered a small veggie (or garbage pizza. Yes my taste buds have broadened their horizons). It was so delicious after the atrocious bus food. Conveniently enough there was a small ice cream shop on the same corner, so we had a perfect desert for a perfect lunch. Plus some nice ladies gave us directions on how to take the bus to the famous "Boca" neighborhood to the west. Like Mendoza, Buenos Aires has an excellent public transportation system. Buses and subways can take you just about anywhere you need to go in the city.

La Boca turned out to be quite the tourist trap. It reminded me of some parts of San Antonio for some reason. With every step taken a new restaurant attendant would try to force us to sit at a patio table, or a man with a camera would try to take our picture for a few pesos. Despite those minor annoyances, it did have some interesting sites to offer. It's famous for its brightly painted houses and shops, as well as for public art and tango performances.
We discovered the best part of the neighborhood just as we were about to leave. Right across from the bus stop, mixed in with the kioscos and little eateries was the entrance to a wonderful museum. For I think 5 pesos, we entered the Museo de Bellas Artes de La Boca, Benito Quinquela Martín. Quinquela Martín was apparently a local artist who painted incredible scenes of his native port neighborhood of La Boca. His works are really incredible, especially his "Fire" and "Dead ship" collections, which depict old tall ships in those two states.
The museum is also full of other artists' work, and the roof is home to dozens of wonderful statues. I'll try to put up photos on here, but if I can't put very many, you can always look at the album on my Facebook account. The view of the city from that rooftop was incredible. The museum turned what would have been a mediocre trip to La Boca into one of my favorite outings while in BA.

After seeing La Casa Rosada (the Argentine White House), we tried to find Teatro Colon, the famous theatre in town, but it has been closed for construction for over a year. Oh well, we saw some other interesting places, and some great architecture. Later we returned to the hostel, Che Lagarto, and got to know everyone there a lot better. It was amazing! The only other American was a guy named Duke from California, while everyone else was Australian, British, Chilean, Argentine or some other group. They were a great bunch of people, and I made some very good friends. Ozzies are the coolest people ever, JR! I know you know that already. We went clubbing with them, and had a great night. I now have more invitations to come stay in foreign countries! The best though is from Jade and Mauricio, a young engaged couple. She's from Australia and he's from Chile. They fell in love working on a cruise ship. How incredible is that? So I have more friends down south than ever!

On Sunday we ate the free breakfast at the hostel, and then headed out to a street market, where we got sunburned while purchasing fun keepsakes like a chess board and a key rack. The Chess is a handmade set, with Aztecs and Conquistadors. It may be politically incorrect, but it's cool looking and only cost about $17 American. After a quick lunch of Milenesa and fries, during which we met more Australians, we headed to Stephanie's hotel. Rachel had already given me the good news that Stephanie's parents had bought us all tickets to a River Plate football match. So after meeting Stephanie, her brother Harrison and her Irish parents, we were off to the match in a private car hired by a friend of Mr. Horgan's coworker.

The River Plate game was against another provincial team, San Martín. It was really incredible to see a professional match in person. I learned so much about cursing and hand gestures in Spanish that night. It's interesting because the visiting team's fans are separated and put into a different section than everyone else. They're caged like animals, with chainlink fences and barbed wire to keep them from getting to the local supporters, and vice versa. They must enter before everyone else, and leave before them as well. There are similar fences keeping the crowd from getting onto the field, but that didn't stop a few fans from getting through and rushing the players when River Plate won 2-1. Futbol is a popular and heated sport here, I'd say.
The only downside to the evening was being seated directly below the aforementioned guest section, which resulted in us getting spit on a good deal throughout the match. Gross!

Afterward, the Horgans were kind enough to invite us to dinner at a nice Italian restaurant near their hotel. I got to play translator for the evening between the family and the sweet old waiter (who looked undeniably like Geri from the Pixar short "Geri's Game"). Monday was spent taking Steph's little brother Harry all over town so he too could enjoy the sites and sounds of Buenos Aires. We took him to the Japanese Garden and several other parks, as well as an incredible bakery and a failed attempt to go to a percussion concert, (although I'm glad that failed because from what our Ozzie friends told us it was not an appropriate environment for someone his age). Later we stayed at their hotel, and swam in the indoor pool while Harry played guitar and Steph sang traditional Irish tunes for us. What a musical family! They're incredible.

On Tuesday we did a little last minute exploring before heading off in our AndesMar bus for the return to the beautiful land to the west.