We are in Bueos Aires and we are fine

Thank you all for your emails, texts and questions asking if we were still in BA or in Chile yet.

We are still in BA and we did not feel the earthquake. It is another tragedy upon this world that makes our hearts sad.

Life is fragile. Be grateful for all you have.

May the angels watch over those suffering from tragedy.

It is 3am and believe it or not we're still up

More to come, but I wanted to let you all know that we just had a lovely dinner party here at casa de Chrissie y Ingrid. Muchas gracias out to Chef Lucia who served up a dinner fit for any Argentinian. It was amazing. We had our teacher here, the glorious Angeles and our Australian superstar Anthony. It was fantastico. I'm done with spanish class, but Chrissie will charge on for una mas dia.

Full movies to come. Until then, hasta a la manana!

Besos!

Un dia en la vida de chrissie e ingrid

Lemon Merenge (aka Lois of GayLo) asked that we post a day in the life blog. Obviously all of these last 20 plus days of cakes, lunches, martinis and vino are beginning to run together. Well, not really. Each one has it's own special experience.

Morning

Chrissie reads me the paper in the mornings while I cook. Well at least she gives me the latest scores from the weekend futbal matches. This is our lovely kitchen where we enjoy tea and breakfast and an occasional dinner when we haven't stuffed ourselves full of bife and dulce.

Last week we started our own private lessons for Spanish to see if it would help us become more proficient. Watch for Chrissie's blog on estudiamos espanol. The good news is that now we don't have to charge out of the house in the morning to get to class. And now we wander out of the house at a respectable hour, try to lunch before class and then top off our classes with a few cocktails before wandering elsewhere.

Our flat is lovely. This is where I pretend to study spanish and where Chrissie actually does study spanish.



This is where we rest our weary shoes after walking for miles and miles around this fantastico ciudad. We have managed for the last three weeks to NOT take any public or private transportation here in BA. We have walked and walked and walked. The good news about this is that we are on the pavement with all the life of BA (ps, those slippers on the right do not belong to us!)

Lunch is always necesito. Near school is a great empanada place where those crispy brown pockets of yum are served on a round wooden board. I love the pollo and Chrissie prefers the roquefort version. We've been there twice and I am ready for another round. Maybe after breakfast.

After class sometimes we wonder into other neightborhoods and keep our eyes on the local activity. There is an odd mix of old world and new world here with graffiti covering shop doors, local deliveries and local markets.

The pace of this city is perfect for us right now. No rush. No urgency. Just a little bit of this. A little bit of that. A little more of this. It's amazing to move with life at this pace. My emails are piling up, my work is falling behind, the blog is second to the next adventure.

So Lois, this is a day in the life. It is slow, it wanders, it looks, it talks, it studies, it eats, it drinks, but most of all, it is amazingly slow and rich at the same time. What a blessing!

Enjoy the photos! More to come later...hasta luego!

 

Estoy cansada

I'm sitting here fighting off mosquitoes and sleep, so this is going to be quick. I'm going to say just this: the Argentinians sure know what to do on a Sunday.

Chrissie and I had a fantastic brunch at an upscale restaurant near our flat. Really wonderful gnocchi and chicken sandwich, complete with tarte tatin.


We then walked over to the Puerto Madero neighborhood, across a canal and into an old shipping district which has been "gentrified" and is now up market and reminds me of Canary Wharf--tall flashy buildings and not much soul. Not my favorite neighborhood, but it was a lovely day of walking and eating. (Isn't every day?)




Snogging Sunday
It seems that Sunday is THE DAY for kids to get out and snog. No inappropriate groping, but full on movie screen kissing that seems to have ignored the call "cut!" It's actually quite sweet. Park benches, grassy knolls, sidewalks, and just about anywhere else. Ahh, summer is in the air.

Enjoy the photos...more writing later. Buenos noches and someone please send over some woo woo mosquito repellent! :)

Holas chicos

Mucho gracias por unas commentas! Massimo and his smack about the Argentinians being of the "laughing stock of Europe" and and Elly Belly's comments in espanol which we can't even understand yet! Muchas gracias. Keep the comments coming...

What I'm trying to say here is that we thank you for all your comments--it makes us feel connected while at the same time we seek new connections. With martini in hand tonight I breathed a big sigh of relief. I don't know how to put it into words yet, but es necessito por mi vida to be somewhere that is not familiar, that is not "normal."Some of you might say that having a martini in hand is familiar for me--that is true, but it didn't feel the same tonight. It felt good, but not like it does at 83 Proof in San Francisco. Claro?

Familiar Landscapes
At Bob's request, we made more of an effort to hit the streets and take more photos. I'll publish more of them later this weekend. It was delightful to take on this assignment in the streets of San Telmo. This barrio felt so old. Yet it felt like it wanted me to know not only its history, but also its dreams for the future. It is interesting when you can feel that a place is stuck in its history or wanting to know its past and or strive for a future.

That is what Buenos Aires feels like to me--know my past, but allow me my future. Whereas Berkeley feels like--know my history, know my proud history, and know only my history. Hmmm, is it time to move beyond 1962?

Beef on a Stick
By the way, best lunch so far. More photos to come. All I have to say is that all you foodies in the state of Cali, you ain't had beef (local or schmocal) till you've had beef in Argentina. Holy Cow! Muy flavor!
As we were served our lunch, an old man wondered by our table and suggested, I think, that "ellas solomente uno brochette, no dos" meaning that we were eating WAY more than we should. I tried to tell him I was very hungry and he proceeded to share with us some saying in Italiano about hunger and women, which I didn't comprendo but I understood. The topics of hunger and women are dangerous to discussif the woman at the table is truly in need of food!

Mas manana!

Mucho Carne

Yesterday was our primera dia de escuela espanol. We woke up VERY early (7:15am -- see Chrissie later in the day post classe) and it took a good 30 minutes to walk to classe. Upon arrival we were joined by two Brasilians, one Belgian, a guy from Holland and another guy who is Iranian but grew up in Sweden. Chrissie, it turns out, has a much more elegente job en espanol, contadora! But frankly our new titles in jobs (contadora e escritora) did not make us want to leave BA and return to our trabajar.

One note to those of you planning a trip to BA: The double LL is pronounced as a SZZHA not a YA. So "ellas" es "ASHA" or "asia" if you like, not "eyas." We're still adjusting.

Vaca e Vino
Yesterday was a bonus day for comida. I dug my knife into a side of cow, complete with garlic, olive and tomato sauce, plus a half a bottle of cab that tasted more like a pinot noir, but I wasn't complaining. For the last 7 days I have been consuming lots of queso and salads and beans, but no meat. So when I woke up Monday a bit more shakey than usual, my body declared "carne es necessito!"


So after four hours of mind spinning Espanol, Chrissie and I wondered upon Broccolini, an Italian joint complete with Don Corleone look alike in the corner, and of course, the red checkered table cloth. This is why we could not identify ourselves in the picture for fear the Italian mafia in BA would try to find us and ask us why we did not finish our steak! The steak was delish and medium rare and Chrissie enjoyed the fresh pasta and basil. It was one of the better meals so far!


Pardon Senora
After we stumbled out of Broccolini into bright sunlight, we continued up Esmerelda Av. Moments after we left the restaurant, me admittedly a bit "happy" from the wine, but walking a semi-straight line along the narrow sidewalk with Chrissie monitoring me from behind, we passed an elderly couple walking the opposite direction. I noticed them coming, the woman holding her husband's arm, the two of them looking very proper and so well dressed considering the heat.

I, of course, was in tank top, skirt and hair up off my neck, tatoos completely visible. As they neared me I started to inch myself out of the way (and I mean inch because that was all that was left on the strip of sidewalk before I would be risking life and limb in the street). Suddenly the bony elbow of the elderly woman jutted out and smacked me in the ribs. I was stunned. I turned back to look at Chrissie, slightly confused, and she confirmed that yes, I had just been smacked, maybe even shoved, by an old Argentinan woman. Que? No se. I started to laugh and spent the rest of our afternoon dodging older women, particularly the ones with canes in case I might get wacked!

Shortly after the jut in the ribs, we spied a heladeria. We paused, questioned if we could possibly stuff more into our stomachs, and agreed, yes, if it is ice cream we could. So we walked in and I tested my new phrase "me gustaria un pequeno helado chocolate morocho" and before I knew it I had a scoop of the most delicioso ice cream in my hand. It was amazingly creamy and rich in flavor and not too sweet. Under the heat of the day it quickly began to melt, so we walked slowly and devoured our cones before any was lost to the ground.

It was another dia en Buenos Aires that was truly magical, rib jut and all. This is me thinking about another early class manana. Estoy cansado!

Observations from Chrissie
Dog-owners in Argentina are just as ridiculous as anywhere else in the world - e.g. small white poodle sitting in a pushchair being pushed by an ancient woman barely mobile herself.

Maradona's (cheat of a) goal against England in the 1986 World Cup, aka La Mano del Dios, is still part of any football conversation here (why?!) Some small consolation to hear that Argentinians are not happy with Diego's coaching skills.

River Plate 0 vs. Rosario Central 0

Chrissie and I hopped a bus complete with guapo guide for our first Argentina futbol match - River Plate vs. Rosario Central. The rains had cleared and the sun was beating us down, but the sun was no match for the crowd. Check out the video below.




Chrissie and our guide had much to say to each other about teams and players and who was good and who was bad. I just listened along. This was my second favorite event of the week aside from the cemetary. Despite it being a zero sum game, it was very lively and great people watching and I think now that Futbol is my new favorite sport! (DL, sorry but this beats the Superbowl any day--although the burgers couldn't touch yours!)

Feria Hippie

Hippie es el hippie es el hippie es el hippie

Yesterday we ventured to a street feria, which at the time we had no idea was called "Feria Hippie," but once we arrived Chrissie and I both agreed that hippies look the same all over the world. (See the jugglers, hash smoking, beer drinking, tattoo'd, matted hair types by the tree...)

We had a wonderful, rain free day yesterday (not so today...it's pouring outside right now and the thunder growls). Chrissie has lost her voice. I suggested it was because she doesn't want to go to Spanish class on Monday, but rather continue our lazy days. She reminded me yesterday that starting on Monday will be the first time in 10 years that she will have committed to doing something 5 days in a row.

Chrissie has inspired many to reconsider work life balance. Ten years ago she said enough and created a life of flex time work (about 3 days a week) and ensured she had plenty of time to spend with her family and to travel. Elly has followed suit and I've been known to cut back on the days at the office. Anyone else out there?


Museo Guapo

Yesterday we wandered about and discovered the national museum which was smaller than one wing at the Metropolitan Museum in NYC and their entire photography exhibit would fit on my bathroom walls next to Curious George. But it was a delight to see some Argentinean art, including the young security guard who was on the rooftop sculpture garden and offered to take our picture. Chrissie then offered to take his and he kindly posed for us. In fact there was one moment when he went all fashion week on us.

Next was the cheesecake and cappucino at the cafe behind the museum (no we can't go out without eating and drinking something in a cafe!). I have to say that was the best dessert so far. The woman across from me saw my facial expression after the first bite and laughed at me and said, in English, "It is very good, yes?" I nodded, with mouth full, in strong agreement.

Finally, as dusk started to fall over the park, we sat for an hour and watched young lovers snog and young men tightrope walk.

We finished off our wander with a G&T, a glass of tinto vino and some melone and jamon. What a Saturday!

Freedom

I don’t really consider myself a traveler. This may come as a surprise to many of you who have witnessed one of my “there she goes again” escapes. There was Budapest, and Italia many times, London, Portugal, Turkey, France, not to mention LA, Santa Fe and Berkeley (what an odd land that last one is). None of these locations are grandiose or even far, far away. 

I travel to shake it up, not to boast that I’ve been here or been there. Like clockwork, about every 4-5 years, movement is needed. I use these “adventures” to push myself into a new cycle, out of an old habit or simply into a different frame of mind. I don’t land somewhere and turn up all the corners, talk to the locals, or even try to tick off all the landmarks on my to do list. Sometimes I talk to locals or I may curse them for trying to get one more American dollar out of me. 

Most of all I wander. I watch. I ponder. If you’re wondering why I pay thousands of dollars to do what I can do at home—passively sit in cafes or quietly wander the streets—it’s not that simple. Plus, many a memorable and crazy adventures can arise from all of that wandering and pondering (Both Chrissie and Lisa can attest to that!).

But what is most critical here, what finally hit me today is that after about 5 days, I am beginning to feel that veritable taste of freedom.

Dead Weight 

And this got me to thinking as we wandered through one of Buenos Aires’ biggest tourist attractions, the Cementerio de la Recoleta. While for many cultures and some religions, death is the ultimate freedom, it struck me that there is probably nothing more confining, heavy and absent of freedom than being laid to rest in a gazillion ton stone mausoleum watched over by hefty marble angels.

So far this has been my most favorite part of our first week in BA. Not because of my sometimes morbid views, but because when I think of travel I think of freedom. The freedom from habit, the freedom from obligations, the freedom from expectations, even in some sense the freedom from identity. No one here, except for Chrissie, knows me. I can be whoever, whatever I want, not what I think someone wants me to be. I could try to be a polite American or a loud American, or I can simply be quiet, watch people walk by and not be anything but someone at a café, drinking a coffee and talking with my friend.

Broken, in a good way

The weight of meetings, social engagements, email, phone calls, assignments, to do lists…all those things that start to feel like a stone casket on top of me, they have begun to erode. Amidst the 4,800 mausoleums that fill this part of Buenos Aires, there are some that looked like I was beginning to feel—walls were coming down, markers were unrecognizable, windows were broken and chains had come undone. A glimpse of freedom was visible amidst the rows of hard marble and stone.

With this first flush of freedom, I do ask the following: may angels with open wings guide us to new places, safely and with a bright spark of adventure.

Highjack

Time to move on from the eloquence of Berkeley to the gritty realism of Islington, London N5 (i.e. Ingrid's gone for a shower & I've managed to hijack the keyboard) .... 

So, what have we been up to in the last couple of days?  Well, more of the same in the sense that cafes (particularly those with good patisserie) are high on the agenda but other than that, we've been trying to get to know our neighbourhood (Retiro) & to walk our way around a few others: Palermo (the groovy, funky part of town), Recoleta & Barrio Norte (affluent, packed with great shops & home of our favourite cafe so far - Nucha - where the cakes rival those of the Belle Epoque in Newington Green - those who know the BE will appreciate that I'm talking "class" cakes here) & Microcentro (business district - how can those men wear suits in this heat?)  

We've still got edgy La Boca & San Telmo to go.  We'll be visiting San Telmo tomorrow before we head off to see River Plate play Rosario Central.  Yay, a football match - how better to spend a Sunday evening?  Who needs religion when you've got football? (hope my Dad isn't reading this ...)

Storm in a Mate Cup - part deux

***Apologies that this first version didn't load properly. I'm not an HTML coder and something went amiss...so here's a bit from earlier this week and expect another posting within hours.

I wish you could hear the thunder we hear right now and feel the flood of drops pounding the old buildings around us. We arrived Monday to blue skies, jungle humidity and a blurring jet lag. Despite it all we ate, we walked, we ate some more, got blisters and heat rash, lugged home $200 pesos worth of groceries (including vodka and "Indian Tonic"), had a livener, cooked a delightful lentil dinner (we're saving ourselves for the beef overload) and then eventually passed out from exhaustion.

Buenos Aires is, well, I’m not sure what to say what it is. Many say it’s the Paris of South America, but I don’t think I could say that. I’d say it is an incredibly diverse city. We have yet to be able to see a person on the street and claim, “Well they look Argentinean.” I like that. Chrissie suggests that BA has a European feeling and I would agree, but I'm not completely sure what that really means. Maybe we like comparisons because it creates familiarity. Regardless, we can say that we are truly enjoying our first days here.

 

No hablo Spanglish

Our Spanish is horrific and they (the locals) are forgiving (See Chrissie’s highlights below…and by the by, I didn’t do much better on my placement test). Our sense of direction feels a bit like we’re dizzy children who have been spun about. The good news is that we can walk miles and miles, we always manage to sit ourselves down at a decent café or bar and immediately begin a conversation about the latest thoughts are wondering into our minds in this new land. Like, I wonder why the subway lines don’t run in different directions vs. parallel? We have done our best to look like locals, such as walking down the street with no umbrella as the rain treated us to our second shower of the day. See Chrissie’s freshly rained hairdo after our search for restaurant on day two.

Sin Umbrella

Today, despite the thunder and lightening, we went forth and enrolled in Spanish Escuela, purchased our tickets for a real football game on Sunday (DL, enjoy the Superbowl as Chrissie and I watch real men in shorts vs fat men in tights), shopped with the upper class in the Pacifico mall and enjoyed the early crowd at a bar. Oh, and we walked by the Pink Palace where Evita (or was it Madonna?) made her plea to her people to stop the tears.

 

It’s now 11:00pm and while most locals are just sitting down to dinner, we have decided to hang our soaking clothes, drink tea, and try to recall what the last three days have been like. We’re not quite ready for a 10pm dinner. Maybe tomorrow.

 

 

Highlights from the last three days from Ms. Christine Elgar

Monday: I don’t remember Monday. Oh that’s right, blisters, water all over the apartment and humidity that is torturous for my hair. If my dad were reading this blog now I would say that my hair is like the wig I made him wear on my birthday, i.e., like Samuel Pepys.

Tuesday: Another day of crap map-reading but finally find Palermo which is lovely - great shops & people-watching. By the end of the day, have binned the Lonely Planet BA guide.

Enjoyed sipping a beer as a policeman paced in front of us smoking a fag.

Wednesday: Nul point in my Spanish placement test today.