Don't Cry For Me.....

Trip Start Feb 14, 2006

104

Trip End Ongoing

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Flag of Argentina Buenos Aires, Argentina
Sunday, May 14, 2006

I should have known right away that Buenos Aires,(BA) was is a special place right away. Upon getting our stuff from the bus, we found our way to the subway and started into the city. Right before we took off, these three black guys got on the train with drums and start chatting quite loudly in some language other than Spanish. One was clearly the leader and he was trying to teach them a new tune, which they started to practice on the train. I recognized the tune as "The Girl From Imponia" and it didn't take them long to get the rhythm worked out between the three of them. As they played it, I started singing with them... for all of the train to hear. I'm somewhat embarrassed to know that I know every single word to that song. Thank you high school show choir. It was pretty cool.. this goofy gringo with a huge pack on his back, singing on a Subway in Buenos Aires, with three African guys playing the drums, while the rest of the car is trying to figure out how we are all connected

Another fire picture

. I would never do that in Chicago, but it just seemed like the thing to do in Argentina.

We got to our hostel and got settled, then took off exploring this fantastic city. Again, not to sound like a broken record, but Argentina is FULL of stores. Now shopping is my LEAST favorite thing to do. However, here in BA I wanted to shop just about everywhere. Everybody here looks so nice and the clothes and stuff for your house are so cheap, that even I cheapest crumudgin of them all, wanted to go buy stuff. In fact, I was telling Kelly that I we ever need to do a bunch of shopping, we should come back here. The savings would more than cover our plane tickets.. so it would be like a free vacation right? The other thing that I noticed was that this place is not like being in South America at all. They call it the Paris of South America for good reason. Everybody smokes, most everyone is beautiful, the buildings are amazing and there are cafes on seemingly every corner.

We spent most of the next day just walking around. Actually, in the interest of time, I'll just say that we did a LOT of walking. I like to walk, it seems that you get to see a lot that way. For as much walking as I did though, we barely made a dent in this town. It has 13 million people and it's not a vertical city like New York or Chicago

Canoodling Kids

. Meaning that while most everyone lives in a high rise they typically are no more than 15 stories tall. There really aren't that many really tall buildings at all actually. This helps it with keeping it's unusual feel.

I have been wanting to see a soccer game in South America ever since we arrived in Quito almost three months ago. I figured that BA would be the place to do it. So we tried to go see a River Plate game a few nights ago. We didn't get in the stadium as the tickets were so expensive, but we stood around outside the stadium for a while. Now, I'm going to offend some people here, but compared to South American Futbol fans, we Americans don't know how to be fans. These people are rabid. Everyone is in full gear, with flags, capes, uniforms, signs and everything you need to proclaim your love aside from a ghetto blaster held high over your head. The populares sit in the cheap seats behind one of the goals and are very serious about their soccer. So much so, that they need to be held back from the field by a thirty foot fence, razor wire, police in riot gear, police dogs, and finally another fence with razor wire. When the opposing team comes out of the locker room they need to do so through a tunnel that extends way out into the field, so that they don't get pelted with shit that would be thrown at them from the crowd. Also, when the game is let out, no body is allowed to leave for about a half hour

Cats

. This gives the opposing teams fans a chance to make a get away so they don't get prison shanked by the home team's fans. Also, the use of road flares and other pyrotechnics is not only allowed, but encouraged, as part of showing your loyalty to your club. Like I said, we Americans have some things to learn about being fans. Kelly and I, got to attend a game a few nights later and found out that in addition to all of these things, those populares in the cheap seats also bring massive silk banners with the teams colors and sing songs throughout the whole game. I'm not kidding.. not for one second was there not a song being sung by at least 10,000 people. I don't know how they know all of these songs, but they have quite a repertoire. My personal favorite was the one about how the ref�s mother is a whore. In fact, every other word out of every fan�s mouth was "punta" which means whore. Pretty funny seeing little kids and women screaming "whores" at the top of their lungs.

Speaking of whores... Funny story.... Kelly and I decided that we were going to go clubbing. This town is full of great clubs, and while we aren�t really into that scene, when in Rome....blah blah blah... So we went out to a kick ass dinner at this parilla that lasted three hours. We ingested enough red meat to give us a heart attack but, thankfully drank enough red wine to ward one off. How�s that for self medicating? We then went back to our hostel to meet up with some new friends and have a few beers before heading out around 2:00 AM

Church

. This is the time that everyone goes to clubs here. Before 2:00 you are dancing by yourself like a jackass. So we went to Cro-bar. Yes, the same Cro-bar that�s in Chicago. This one in BA just opened, so it�s the cool place to be. Kelly and I are living out of a backpack, so fashionable clothes are not part of our wardrobe, but we gave it our best and headed out to stand in line with the rest of the lemmings. As the cab approached the club we had to drive through a pretty good sized park. I noticed that there were topless women standing by the side of the road in G-Strings. The boobs were fake. The hair was platinum blonde. These were hookers Buenos Aries style. I appreciated the fact that they let you know what was for sale. I guess they must have disclosure laws here. As we got out of the cab and walked towards the club, I noticed that a few of these ladies had Adam�s apples. Hmmm... Once we got to the club, we stood in line with about 300 other people in black shirts with hair that was immaculately disheveled. Kelly and I were wearing hiking boots. I was wearing my "nice" pants, which have blood on them from when I fell in Peru and are completely frayed around the bottoms. After waiting and waiting, we finally get to the gate of the velvet rope and the bouncer asks us if we will pay to get in. We say yes and he instructs us to go to this ticket window. Now, we�ve been standing in line for a long time and I had noticed this "ticket" window. I had also noticed that nobody had gone to this window yet. But Kelly and I dutifully went to talk to this guy and he says that it�s 120 pesos to get in. This was hilarious to us as it was a clear example of the "Gringo Tax" in effect. We just started laughing and told him no thanks. What they didn�t know, was unlike all of the other kids in that line, we were not on any psychotropic drugs and would be drinking inside that club. They missed out on a really opportunity there. Thankfully, there were hookers to watch

Fire Picture

. So, Kelly and I went back to the park, sat on a bench and watched this freak show in action. I would say that the male to female ratio of Buenos Aries hookers is about 60/40 girls. What the men lack in numbers though, they make up for in enthusiasm. I must tell you, that watching these girls hop in and out of cars and dance topless in the high beams of on coming traffic was much better than any club I�ve ever been to. It was like being at a really funny zoo. Or maybe a circus. Hell, we could have been at a dog show, with all of the tricks going on.

Everything in Argentina seems to be pretty cheap compared with the States. Except for electronics, they cost about 250% more. It would seem fitting that our camera broke in Mendoza. So we had to buy a new one here in BA. We didn�t skimp especially in light of the fact that we have a once in a lifetime trip ahead of us. So we spent the equivalliant of a week�s budget on a camera. Ouch. It�s a good thing we bought it though, or I wouldn�t have been able to document one of the most frightening experiences of my life.

Kelly and I had a "Choose Your Own Adventure" Day. She went and did her thing and I did mine, which was basicly wandering aimlessly around BA getting lost and looking at life here

Horrified Crowd Staring Helplessly at the Fire

. As I was on my way home, I noticed a huge crowd staring up towards the sky. I looked up with them and noticed a huge fire pouring out of the 11th floor of an apartment building. This was a fire like you see on the movies, with glass breaking and evil flames shooting skyward and every which way. What made this so frightening, was the fact that on the 12th floor on a balcony, were three teen aged boys stranded by the fire. With flames licking at their feet and black smoke pouring in on them, I thought that I was about to watch them die. It was a sickening feeling knowing that there was nothing I could do to help them. So there they were waving their arms and screaming for help. They had cloths up to their faces but nothing else to protect them. The minutes dragged on and there was no fire department to speak of. Finally after what seemed like an eternity the first engine arrived. Then a ladder truck. I had hope that this was going to end quickly. That was misplaced hope. The firefighters went about their work with a devil may care, laziness that was shameful. It took them a full ten minutes to hook up the fire hose and about another five to get the ladder truck working. All the while walking around like they had been smoking joints all day and talking to each other like they had just got out of church. "Good to see you, Frank. How�s the wife and kid�s? Oh, yeah? Oh man, I�ve got to get going, my Chief wants me to save these people�s lives and put out this inferno. Catch you at the next five alarmer." It was shameful

Meat... Argintine Style

. I am happy to report that in spite of the lethargy of BA�s finest, the boys lived. It made me appreciate the fact that in the US there would have been some giddy- up with our fire men.

Let�s see.. other observations about BA.

There is no such thing as a to go coffee. Even at McDonalds. There are a ton of McDonald�s here by the way. However, if you happen to be somewhere that doesn�t serve coffee, you can call a cafe and they will bring one to you on a tray. There are lots of these waiters walking through the crowded streets with trays of coffee and rolls. Kind of weird.

Driving without your lights on at night is not only okay, but seemingly the norm.

People here eat Red Meat, Pizza, and Pasta. They smoke like chimneys. They drink red wine by the bucket. They are thin and look great.

Clothes are very important here. Women wear jeans that are seemingly custom made for their asses. Don�t worry, Kelly�s made this observation too. So I�m not being too much of a pig.

I�m kind of in a rush, Kelly and I flying to South Africa tonight so I�ve got to wrap this up. Moral of this story. Come to Bueno Aires. It is probably, next to Chicago, my favorite city that I have ever been to.

Next stop the continent of Africa.. wish us luck.