Summer heat in BA

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Well BA text is two weeks late in coming...

Come to BA now, before it gets expensive again.  The beauty of the peso´s recent devaluation is that every price here gets divided by 3 with the mighty Canadian dollar.  A 25 peso steak, expensive to most Argentinians, costs little more than $8Cdn.  The wine, no more.  Not a bad way to live in one of the most vibrant cities in the world.

The architecture and attitude of BA remind of Europe. Grand avenues (including the world´s widest, at 16 lanes), obeliscs, plazas, newspaper stands, parisien cafes, people smoking and smoking couples.  Effusive, sexy (something in the water), hot and vibrant, Buenos Aires is latin to the core.  The city jolts you into its fast pace on the taxi ride from the airport.  Here, traffic lanes are merely a suggestion and a seatbelt in the backseat of a taxi, a luxury.  Tango in the squares and in the clubs and milangos at night (yes, Sevag, I saw real couples doing the tango at 3am in an Armenian cultural centre hall). 

Imagine your favourite city in Europe and add heat, action and latin flavour and you have BA, at a cant beat price.

One story from Buenos Aires:  Argentians love their soccer. Me and some Canadians signed up with our hotel  for 70 pesos to see the Boca Jrs game on a Sunday afternoon.  Turns out there would be about 30 of us.  The Boca Jrs. home stadium is in the worst neighbourhood of BA, La Boca.  We had some American friends who were staying at a large American hotel chain. The large hotel was pricing the game at 150 pesos, so they joined us... a decision they may still be questioning.

The guide who would be taking our group to the game arrives 30 minutes late, which counts as on time in South America.  Expecting to see an air-con bus at the door to the hotel, we march down excited to go.  No bus.  He points us to the city bus stop to grab a bus to La Boca.  No bus will stop for a group so large, or is already filled w Boca Jrs supporters.  The guide makes us hide behind the corner while he gets his pregnant wife to force a bus to stop.  Then in à craze of yelling and urging he ushers us onto the bus.  Bus driver not amused and tries to leave before we are all on.  So we arrive in La Boca. Sketchy, but daylight.  The guide´s usual route to the stadium is blocked off by riot police on this day. Oh yes, Boca is playing its cross-town rivals, San Lorenzo (from a better side of the tracks).  Guide clearly has no pre-determined plan `B`.  So he swings us around the blockage, through the only touristy area of La Boca (Caminito street).  I take great relief in this, as I had already been there and it was familiar ground.  Only a moment after feeling some relief and bearings, a crown of yelling teenagers and 20-something San Lorenzo fans comes running at our group, and targets a couple of us in particular.  Turns out, our guide had taken us pass the `quarantine`the police had set up in La Boca for San Lorenzo fans (football fans are not generally known for their non-violent ways).  Apparently, three English meatheads among us wearing La Boca jerseys taunted the San Lorenzo fans and were, as a result, attacked.  Each were swarmed by about 10 guys and absorbed a number of punches and kicks while being `jersyed`.  Each lost their jerseys, but not their teeth, luckily.  For about 5 long seconds while this was happening, each of the rest of us had to process whether we were a group of obvious tourists being attacked or only some of us were under fire.  Once we realized it was the meatheads, we promptly left the weak zebras to the lions and took refuge closer to the heart of Caminito.

After a brief and incomprehensible speech by the flustered tour guide on the geopolitical wonder of soccer (soccer make love not war, so stop fighting you violent tourists), we were again ushered somewhat frantically by the guide through the streets of La Boca, past police fences, water cannons and somewhat incredulous Boca residents.  I dont think it was being the tourist that was so strange to them, it was the roving pack of 30 looking so spooked that was amusing to them.

We made it to the stadium and found our standing room only seats, safe among Boca fans (so long as we cheered for Boca).  If you have never been to a soccer game, let alone one in Latin America, I cant hope to do it justice.  50,000 signing, chanting, thrusting their arms and waving flags in unison.  Never silent.  Makes a Wednesday night at the ACC look like a wake.  A personal observation: soccer is much more interesting and beautiful to watch in person than on TV.  I wont say it is the beautiful game, but the skill and strategy are more readily apparent in person than on TV to the casual observer.

Needless to say, we all left 10 minutes early and dashed for a cab back downtown.

Rumour has it the 150 pesos at the large hotel bought you a club seat next to Ethyl and Fred from Wichita and transportation to and from the door of the large hotel in a bomb-proof A/C bus.

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This is as good a place as any for some observations about Argentina:

- if you love to smoke, or better yet, love to inhale secondhand smoke anywhere, anytime, then Argentina and BA is for you!!

- meat, meat and more meat.  Vegetarians are largely limited to `ensalada mixta`- lettuce, onion and tomato

- expect a local hotel to not have changed since 1965.

- every resto serves bread, like at home.  Good luck finding fresh bread or imaginative bread.  Stale white bread or baguette coming your way.  What you dont eat will be served as toast the next morning.

- the mullet, rat`s tail and mohawk hair styles.  Why?  And, worse, why combine one or more of these styles?

- Madonna`s new album played in every store and on every radio station

- children on the front of motorbikes; children on the back of motorbikes; children unstrapped in cars or sitting in mom`s lap.  Troubling.

- table service is very aggravating to the North American mindset.  Sit down at a table.  With luck, within 10 minutes a server will come by acknowledge your existence and ask you for your order.  At this point, you ask to actually see a menu.  Drink orders are not asked for. Menu arrives 10 minutes later.  Drink orders still not taken, unless demanded by agonizing client.  10 minutes later, entire order is requested from drinks through entre.  Food eventually served, after noshing on aforementioned stale and unimaginative bread.  Empty plates sit idle for 10 minutes after they are finished.  When server does come by, if you dont ask for coffee or the bill at that moment, expect to wait another 10mins for any interest by server in the standard next steps.  When the bill is finally asked for, expect to wait, let`s see, another 10minutes for it to arrive.  My best advice at this point: have exact change and save yourself another ten minutes of waiting for change or your VISA print out.  Things are better at cafeterias/confiterias.  There is no such thing as take out coffee.  Just long hard stares.

- with reference to the above, when you dine alone at a resto while writing into a journal, the attentiveness of the staff increases noticeably (as if you are a travel writer)

- everything, even in BA, closes down at 1pm on Sat afternoon and does not open again until Monday morning.  I mean everything, but random internet cafes.  Tumbleweed blows down the streets.  In the smaller towns, bank on everything being closed for siesta from 1:30 to 5:00pm.  At least everything is open until 8pm.

- the dining hour begins at 9:00pm.  Dont be suprised to see families with small children stroll in at 10:30 or 11pm on weekdays.  Clubs open at 1-3am.  Serious clubgoers stagger home at 7am.  Local beer is terrible, except for the microbrews. Who cares, you are here for the wine, stupid.

- those who wear flip-flops be warned: sidewalks are often tile and are quite slippery!!  This is exacerbated when they are wet.  You will nearly break your neck on several occasions.  You will curse the diligent shopkeeper or homeowner that washes their walk.  Further to sidewalk hazards, missing tiles or entire potholes are common.  Watch your step or you will be on crutches. In Mendoza and other towns feed by Andean meltwater, please regard the consciously designed aquaduct-like ditch 2 feet deep logically placed between the sidewalk and road.  Walk sober.

- have fun.  It is hard not to!