jueves 15.05 --- Una argentina nueva --- A New Argentina

After arriving at Ezezia Airport well rested from our overnight flight, we embarked on the crew bus for our Argentina journey. The bus ride was pleasant, as were the accompanying refreshments, the Hilton in Puerto Madero (our lodging for the night) is by far among the best hotels in the city and quite possibly the best I’ve ever inhabited. A quick shower and we were ready to go. Seeing how this was my brother’s first time to the country, we had to enjoy a delicacy; grilled steak (known as churrasco) sandwiches. We were joined by tens of pigeons and parrots, who vied for our extra bread. After lunching on the River Plate, we headed over to El Retiro bus station to purchase tickets for our next trip to Rosario. The bus station was rather busy, but I thought it manageable. We would make our bus the next day no matter what. We departed from El Retiro and walked through bustling Buenos Aires.

Our first steps into the big city.

We encountered a monument to the Malvinas / Falkland Islands War. For those unfamiliar, the war was fought between England in Argentina and lasted a little over three months in 1982. The islands were declared British at the end of the war. Plaques and statues are scattered through out the country. Argentina will not forget its armed conflict against the juggernaut that is Britain and nor should they. I will always refer to the islands as the Malvinas in reverence to their rightful owner, Argentina. An eternal flame and constant guard remain with this small commemoration to Argentina’s heroes.

Nuevo de julio Ave., and Across from the Malvinas Monument.

Going through San Martín Park, we made it to the famed Flórida Street. Perusing shops along the large pedestrian walkway, my brother found a shop where he could purchase a leather jacket. Argentina is famous for, among other things, exports in beef and leather. Satisfied with his new apparel, my father and I conversed with the store owners. They were from Brooklyn so we discussed sports (particularly the fates of Yankee and Shea stadiums) and the state of the American economy. We departed, browsed other shops and eventually made it to Plaza de Mayo and the Casa Rosada.

Navigating at Parque de San Martín.

The Casa Rosada.

There is so much history in this one central plaza. From the colonial age of Spanish conquistadors, to the tomb of Argentina’s George Washington (José Francisco de San Martín), to the very balcony where Juan and Eva Peron gave there speeches and a small plaza in front where the famed Madres del mayo protest and still protest for the abduction of their children during Argentina’s Dirty War. A disclaimer to the reader. If you do not like history, I apologize in advance, but, in my opinion, a country is not represented fully without some history. I’ll try to keep it to a minimum.

San Telmo was our next barrio of choice. We headed for the oldest church in the entire city, San Ignacio de Loyola. An older woman gave us a tour in full English and with much enthusiasm. She spoke of the church’s history both older and recent. It was undergoing a renovation that was to be completed by the nation’s bicentennial in 2010. She communicated efficiently, passionately, and did not expect anything in return. An early treat for our trip.

Afterwards we went to a café and relaxed. We drank Quilmes, which is the equivalent to American Budweiser, jingoistic and light. I say jingoistic because there is no other drink so ingrained in the local bars around the country than Quilmes, the same for Budweiser here. We jumped the subway or Subte over to Palermo another barrio. The subway was packed! It was nearly 7:30 and the ten stops on the subte linea verde were near brutal. We barely had room to breathe. We ascended back to the surface and even the smoggy air of Buenos Aires was refreshing. After a minor directional miscue (there would be many on my part, so I take the blame up front) we found El Trapiche restaurant. The meal, after all my father’s boasting and hyping it up, was mediocre. The palm nut salad, provoletta (a grilled provolone with oregano and oil), and lomo (steak) were good, but not the best I’ve ever had. The house Malbec (Argentina’s wine) certainly improved the experience.

We hopped a cab back to the hotel. Our driver had superb English speaking skills and this made my father very happy. The two discussed the city’s attractions, some colloquial expressions, and the night life here in Buenos Aires. Pulling up to the Hilton’s lobby I felt a sense of relief. My Spanish skills, though rusty, had improved over the course of the day. Also a confidence in my ability to navigate a South American city had been strengthened. I rest assured that I am ready for this trip and can not wait for what this trip has in store for us. Exploring further than the confines of Buenos Aires, this is will be my new Argentina.

A Late Night Protest in Plaza de Mayo.