The other night it rained so hard that the streets flooded. I mean seriously flooded. Cars were floating down the street and parts of the city lost electricity until the next morning. From my 10th story apartment I watched a little bit of the storm, but really didn’t grasp the magnitude of it until later on.
Every time it rains hard in Buenos Aires, Palermo floods. It’s a combination of low streets and not very good drainage, plus all of the garbage that collects by the gutters. This means that once a rain storm comes through, the streets instantly become ponds, which turn into lakes, which flow into rivers. But again, up on the 10th floor I was lucky and dry, having gotten home before the storm, even getting a short run in first.
There are a lot of people that sleep out on the street in this city though. I wonder what they did during that storm. If they live in Palermo they probably had no where to go that night. As it was, subway service was disrupted on several of the lines up through last night, much to my surprise when I got out of work and had to struggle to first find a kiosk to give me change, then find a bus and get home.
Ever since the weekend Buenos Aires has cooled down a lot, almost so that it feels like autumn, but it’s too early for that yet. This is just a cold front, and I’m sure that in the next few days it will heat up again. In the meantime, it’s a nice change of pace to not sweat on the walk to work, and last night it was even chilly. My two visitors will be leaving shortly—one leaves tonight and the other tomorrow. But I won’t be alone for long, because in mid-March I have more guests coming from Ecuador for a week.
Having the guests come is nice and fun, though it does get tiring going to the same spots. Yet at the end of their stay, you realize that you enjoy the company and will have a void without them there. Even if it means going to the same tourist spots over and over again.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Monday, February 15, 2010
Lazy Weekend
My friends came back to Buenos Aires on Saturday morning, and since they had taken a night bus from Mendoza, they took a nap once they were settled back in the apartment. This meant that we really didn’t get a start on the day until 2 or 3 o’clock. There wasn’t much of a need to rush because they had already seen a good amount of touristic sites, and we all agreed that after going food shopping we would sit in the park and drink some mate.
It wasn’t a very hot day and the park was pretty empty, but we sat by the pond and passed around the tea a few rounds. I’m happy to say that they’re big fans of the drink and might take it back with them. Just lazing around, we finally decided to head up to Belgrano and check out the small Chinatown. I’d never been there but kept hearing it was interesting, and that street food was good there.
Though it’s not a big deal for tourists, we had the time to kill and made the trip up to Belgrano. I’d never really been around the neighborhood, but once we got there I could tell it felt nice. To me, it had a Brookline or Brighton, Massachusetts feel to it. Still in the city, but with a different character and more residential. We moseyed over to the gate and joined the crowd of people walking into cheap thrift stores and Chinese restaurants.
“Chinos,” or supermarkets run by Chinese families, lined the block, packed with young people doing their shopping. I wanted some street food and though I couldn’t find the dumplings, got some fried chicken on a stick. It was a bit pricey at $7 pesos, but it was delicious. The chicken had some brown sauce on it that gave it a sort of kick, and after I finished it I couldn’t stop talking about how good it was.
The girls bought some beers and we sat in a park talking for a while as the sun set. To our left, a gazebo was filling up with elderly tango dancers. We went over and saw that it was just a local get together, which apparently happens frequently. Anyone can just go up and ask someone to dance, and the traditional music from the 40s blasted into the early night. We stood watching for 15 minutes and then headed home, glad that we’d come to a bit of a random spot.
Yesterday was a cool and sunny day, so again taking out time, we went down to Puerto Madero and the Ecological Reserve. I insisted that we get choripan, a sausage sandwich, at one of the many grilling stations by the swamp. The girls got one too, and we sat on the shaky white tables while cumbia music blasted from the stand. It was crowded but peaceful, with most of the people drinking mate with family or friends. Once the choripan was gone, we walked around the reserve; sitting by the edge of the river and watching the waves roll in, we sat in silence for a while.
To have the luxury of traveling in a place long enough gives you the ability to take it easy and really get a feel for where you are, and I’m glad the girls have been here long enough to see it like this. It was a lazy, but worthwhile weekend in Buenos Aires.
It wasn’t a very hot day and the park was pretty empty, but we sat by the pond and passed around the tea a few rounds. I’m happy to say that they’re big fans of the drink and might take it back with them. Just lazing around, we finally decided to head up to Belgrano and check out the small Chinatown. I’d never been there but kept hearing it was interesting, and that street food was good there.
Though it’s not a big deal for tourists, we had the time to kill and made the trip up to Belgrano. I’d never really been around the neighborhood, but once we got there I could tell it felt nice. To me, it had a Brookline or Brighton, Massachusetts feel to it. Still in the city, but with a different character and more residential. We moseyed over to the gate and joined the crowd of people walking into cheap thrift stores and Chinese restaurants.
“Chinos,” or supermarkets run by Chinese families, lined the block, packed with young people doing their shopping. I wanted some street food and though I couldn’t find the dumplings, got some fried chicken on a stick. It was a bit pricey at $7 pesos, but it was delicious. The chicken had some brown sauce on it that gave it a sort of kick, and after I finished it I couldn’t stop talking about how good it was.
The girls bought some beers and we sat in a park talking for a while as the sun set. To our left, a gazebo was filling up with elderly tango dancers. We went over and saw that it was just a local get together, which apparently happens frequently. Anyone can just go up and ask someone to dance, and the traditional music from the 40s blasted into the early night. We stood watching for 15 minutes and then headed home, glad that we’d come to a bit of a random spot.
Yesterday was a cool and sunny day, so again taking out time, we went down to Puerto Madero and the Ecological Reserve. I insisted that we get choripan, a sausage sandwich, at one of the many grilling stations by the swamp. The girls got one too, and we sat on the shaky white tables while cumbia music blasted from the stand. It was crowded but peaceful, with most of the people drinking mate with family or friends. Once the choripan was gone, we walked around the reserve; sitting by the edge of the river and watching the waves roll in, we sat in silence for a while.
To have the luxury of traveling in a place long enough gives you the ability to take it easy and really get a feel for where you are, and I’m glad the girls have been here long enough to see it like this. It was a lazy, but worthwhile weekend in Buenos Aires.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Tierra del Fuego Video
At last I have finished the final video from the trip to Patagonia. This chapter focuses on our stay in Ushuaia, in Tierra del Fuego. In the video you'll see the Tierra del Fuego National Park and the Beagle Channel.
Light Headed
As usual I was at my desk yesterday working, minding my own business and plugging away. But a mix of caffeine from the Green Hills tea and fatigue caused me to be momentarily light headed. Suddenly it hit me like a ton of bricks, sitting at my desk, slightly dizzy.
I thought of Quito first. I miss the smell of the polluted air, the simultaneous hot and cold feeling, wearing layers and burning at the same time. The intoxication that high altitude unintentionally causes. With a slight pant and trickle of sweat from brow, you were light headed and briefly high as your blood rushed to your brain. Running across the highway, black clouds of exhaust smoke in your face, and the fear that someone was out there plotting to rob you right then and there, but you would be prepared. It kept you on your toes. God, I miss that.
I’ll admit that over time I’ve thought less about Ecuador, mainly because you have to move on with your life or get lost in the past. And now I’ve almost been down in Argentina for 6 months, so some of the memories are starting to fade and the details are blurring together. What exactly did that village smell like at lunch time? Was it boiling chicken and rice or manure? Maybe both.
Whereas when I first arrived here I continued to think about Ecuador consistently throughout every day, I now need to find the time to acknowledge it and give myself 5 minutes here or there to think it through. After all, I want to be here and now making the most of my experience in Argentina. But when those strong memories do come back it’s hard to tell if I’m dizzy from the caffeine or from the shock it brings to my system. A rare find of hot sauce brings me back to the Colombian restaurant Moliendo Café, with the tight tables with yellow paper underneath glass tops, photos and maps of Colombia adorning the walls, and the friendly old married couple who ran the place, though their true home was Medellín. I order an arepa and with the tiny wooden spoon in the brown jar, sprinkle a healthy dose of the ground up ají peppers, and my mouth is on fire.
My friend Lauren is in this country for another week or so before returning to Cuenca, but she too will be going home next month. Yet I’m still jealous that she gets to fly into Guayaquil and take the 4 hour bus up to Cuenca, going from coast and banana plantations to jungle to high altitude mountains in step. Some people will jump on the bus and sell fried banana chips for a quarter, or homemade ice cream already melting off the stick. And there’s ceviche, encebollado, and all kinds of almuerzos (about 2 kinds) for $1.50-$2.
What makes it hardest is that I don’t know when I’ll be back. And if I do make it back one day, how much will it have changed? Back in Quito in September, 2008, a few of the volunteers and host families got together on Sundays to play basketball. The Quito Baller’s Club. It made sense, doing something that brought our cultures together. Then on the last Sunday after the game and lunch, some of us went to the top of a lookout point at the TelefériQo, at almost 13,500 feet up. It made sense, doing something as enriching as that. I’m so far away from that point in Quito now, but not just in distance or elevation.
I thought of Quito first. I miss the smell of the polluted air, the simultaneous hot and cold feeling, wearing layers and burning at the same time. The intoxication that high altitude unintentionally causes. With a slight pant and trickle of sweat from brow, you were light headed and briefly high as your blood rushed to your brain. Running across the highway, black clouds of exhaust smoke in your face, and the fear that someone was out there plotting to rob you right then and there, but you would be prepared. It kept you on your toes. God, I miss that.
I’ll admit that over time I’ve thought less about Ecuador, mainly because you have to move on with your life or get lost in the past. And now I’ve almost been down in Argentina for 6 months, so some of the memories are starting to fade and the details are blurring together. What exactly did that village smell like at lunch time? Was it boiling chicken and rice or manure? Maybe both.
Whereas when I first arrived here I continued to think about Ecuador consistently throughout every day, I now need to find the time to acknowledge it and give myself 5 minutes here or there to think it through. After all, I want to be here and now making the most of my experience in Argentina. But when those strong memories do come back it’s hard to tell if I’m dizzy from the caffeine or from the shock it brings to my system. A rare find of hot sauce brings me back to the Colombian restaurant Moliendo Café, with the tight tables with yellow paper underneath glass tops, photos and maps of Colombia adorning the walls, and the friendly old married couple who ran the place, though their true home was Medellín. I order an arepa and with the tiny wooden spoon in the brown jar, sprinkle a healthy dose of the ground up ají peppers, and my mouth is on fire.
My friend Lauren is in this country for another week or so before returning to Cuenca, but she too will be going home next month. Yet I’m still jealous that she gets to fly into Guayaquil and take the 4 hour bus up to Cuenca, going from coast and banana plantations to jungle to high altitude mountains in step. Some people will jump on the bus and sell fried banana chips for a quarter, or homemade ice cream already melting off the stick. And there’s ceviche, encebollado, and all kinds of almuerzos (about 2 kinds) for $1.50-$2.
What makes it hardest is that I don’t know when I’ll be back. And if I do make it back one day, how much will it have changed? Back in Quito in September, 2008, a few of the volunteers and host families got together on Sundays to play basketball. The Quito Baller’s Club. It made sense, doing something that brought our cultures together. Then on the last Sunday after the game and lunch, some of us went to the top of a lookout point at the TelefériQo, at almost 13,500 feet up. It made sense, doing something as enriching as that. I’m so far away from that point in Quito now, but not just in distance or elevation.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Vale La Pena
Even with guests here (though they left today for Mendoza) I'm starting to get used to my new routine. My new home is farther north, which makes the commute to work a bit farther, and instead of walking I now take the subway. This alone is another headache from time to time for obvious reasons. It seems as though half of the city tries to jam onto the D line in the morning, and at least once a week it breaks down with people elbow to elbow and sweating. You don't know what day it's going to be, but you know it will happen.
Leaving a bit earlier, standing around for the train, and then cramming in with everyone else is slowing becoming the norm. Coming home to this new apartment is now starting to feel normal rather than out of place. That's a good thing, as I'd rather not feel uncomfortable for too long. Now when time is permitting, I come home and go for a run, shower, make dinner and before long there's time enough to relax for a bit before bed.
It feels much better to have something else to do when I come home from work besides go straight to the computer after being in front of one all day. I don't watch much TV, but it's nice to have one in the apartment, so during those times that I do get bored and want to watch it's easy and accessible. And furthermore, it's my own space and I don't have to feel badly about doing anything.
So you have to get used to a rougher commuter and some other minor changes, but I think in the end it's worth it to feel comfortable at home and to be able to do what I like after work. And in a city of this size, there will always be something else going on if I get sick of running.
Leaving a bit earlier, standing around for the train, and then cramming in with everyone else is slowing becoming the norm. Coming home to this new apartment is now starting to feel normal rather than out of place. That's a good thing, as I'd rather not feel uncomfortable for too long. Now when time is permitting, I come home and go for a run, shower, make dinner and before long there's time enough to relax for a bit before bed.
It feels much better to have something else to do when I come home from work besides go straight to the computer after being in front of one all day. I don't watch much TV, but it's nice to have one in the apartment, so during those times that I do get bored and want to watch it's easy and accessible. And furthermore, it's my own space and I don't have to feel badly about doing anything.
So you have to get used to a rougher commuter and some other minor changes, but I think in the end it's worth it to feel comfortable at home and to be able to do what I like after work. And in a city of this size, there will always be something else going on if I get sick of running.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Tour Guide Weekend
My friend Lauren and her friend Amanda arrived in Buenos Aires on Thursday morning, and since then I've been busy playing tour guide. Even though I myself am new here and learn about new places all the time, I'm now giving the explanations and showing my friends around the block. I never really had guests before when living in Spain or Ecuador (aside from other volunteers), and when my friend Kristine came here we both discovered the city together.
It's a different experience altogether to be the expert on the place you live in, and it's tiring. We've been going around town visiting some spots whenever the rain hasn't been pouring down on us, and when it has. We've gone out to restaurants and bars and stayed out late two nights in a row. I'm pooped, and have to work tomorrow. I'm noticing that it's not as exciting seeing the same touristic paces like San Telmo, and it's something that you have to deal with if you want to have friends visit.
Tomorrow they'll be leaving Buenos Aires to travel to Mendoza and Cordoba, so I'll have a few days in between when they come back to the city. Next month I have some more friends visiting, and I'm guessing we'll be going to the same kinds of places again. Eventually I might just have to make a treasure map and let people find stuff on their own, because I don't know how many more times I can handle going to the San Telmo fair. Now it's time for the Superbowl as the girls go out to a tango bar.
It's a different experience altogether to be the expert on the place you live in, and it's tiring. We've been going around town visiting some spots whenever the rain hasn't been pouring down on us, and when it has. We've gone out to restaurants and bars and stayed out late two nights in a row. I'm pooped, and have to work tomorrow. I'm noticing that it's not as exciting seeing the same touristic paces like San Telmo, and it's something that you have to deal with if you want to have friends visit.
Tomorrow they'll be leaving Buenos Aires to travel to Mendoza and Cordoba, so I'll have a few days in between when they come back to the city. Next month I have some more friends visiting, and I'm guessing we'll be going to the same kinds of places again. Eventually I might just have to make a treasure map and let people find stuff on their own, because I don't know how many more times I can handle going to the San Telmo fair. Now it's time for the Superbowl as the girls go out to a tango bar.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Back to the Beat, But At a Different Pace
In the first week back to Buenos Aires after the two week trip south, I've been keeping busy and getting back into a sort of routine. I say sort of because now that I live in a different area, on my own for the first time, it's a whole new process that I need to get used to. I'm still figuring out what time I need to leave in the morning for work, and I keep getting in way too early. However, if I leave even just a few minutes later, I risk getting stuck in the subway with a million other people.
This week saw intense heat in Buenos Aires, but it finally started to rain yesterday, and is continuing today and maybe for the rest of the week, so the discomfort of that heat wave is shortly over. I have air conditioning in my apartment now, but try not to use it unless it's totally necessary. On Monday I went for my first run in the parks here, and it was good but also showed me that I need to get back in shape. I just did one lap around the lake after a long day of work and in extreme heat and humidity, but I feel like I should be able to do at least two laps with ease.
Getting back to work has been good. I've been swamped every day and had barely any time to breath, but it's also been good to help get back in the swing of things. And after all, I enjoy what I do, so I can't complain. The job is my main source of consistency here and it's helpful to have that schedule in mind.
Tomorrow my friend Lauren will be arriving from Ecuador. Her friend is joining her and they'll be staying with me for a few days as they tour the city, and then traveling around Argentina for a bit. I'm really excited to see her, as the last time we hung out was back in Cuenca in July. We were both volunteers with WorldTeach in Cuenca last year, but Lauren stayed on working independently in Cuenca. If you'd followed along last year, I traveled over much of Ecuador with her, as well as Peru, and she's a really fun person to be around.
So back to the grind, but with a twist. I'll be looking for the time to continue writing throughout the next few days.
This week saw intense heat in Buenos Aires, but it finally started to rain yesterday, and is continuing today and maybe for the rest of the week, so the discomfort of that heat wave is shortly over. I have air conditioning in my apartment now, but try not to use it unless it's totally necessary. On Monday I went for my first run in the parks here, and it was good but also showed me that I need to get back in shape. I just did one lap around the lake after a long day of work and in extreme heat and humidity, but I feel like I should be able to do at least two laps with ease.
Getting back to work has been good. I've been swamped every day and had barely any time to breath, but it's also been good to help get back in the swing of things. And after all, I enjoy what I do, so I can't complain. The job is my main source of consistency here and it's helpful to have that schedule in mind.
Tomorrow my friend Lauren will be arriving from Ecuador. Her friend is joining her and they'll be staying with me for a few days as they tour the city, and then traveling around Argentina for a bit. I'm really excited to see her, as the last time we hung out was back in Cuenca in July. We were both volunteers with WorldTeach in Cuenca last year, but Lauren stayed on working independently in Cuenca. If you'd followed along last year, I traveled over much of Ecuador with her, as well as Peru, and she's a really fun person to be around.
So back to the grind, but with a twist. I'll be looking for the time to continue writing throughout the next few days.
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