My first walk around Buenos Aires
Hit the streets this afternoon with a mind to getting four critical things: food, a map, a plug adaptor, and sandals. I succeeded in procuring all but the sandals, so I'm pretty happy. As for the food, I was going to give the restaurant's cannelloni a try, but I didn't know what "verdura" was, other than the main ingredient. So I asked, but the waitress didn't speak a word of English, so after 15 seconds of getting nowhere, I made a mooing noise and added "poco" (small), as I had a hunch that "verdura" is veal. No dice. I then tried a quick baaa (only baby-like), but that wasn't it either, so I just gave up and ordered the chicken. I just checked, and "verdura" is vegetables. Not even close. Now I'm trying to imagine what noise a vegetable makes.
I really enjoyed taking a bunch of photos though, so my thanks to dad for the camera.
A family friend recently offered the simile that Buenos Aires "is like a run-down Paris". I think it has a character all its own, but you see what he's talking about in buildings like these.
The chap in white is Carlos Pellegrini. He lead the Partido Autonomista Nacional (PAN) - a collection society's elite who ruled the country for at least 30 years of its democratic history - to an election victory with himself at the helm in the 1870s, and then later through massive electoral fraud with his successor as the ostensive leader. He then passed a series of electoral reforms in 1911 that outlawed the abuses that had kept the PAN in power all those years, apparently believing that the PAN was so popular that syetemic fraud was just a waste of time. The PAN was then soundly trounced.
A very typical street in BA. Trees and white buildings.
Unfortunately, I didn't catch the name of this guy. Now, one would be forgiven for thinking that we're simply looking at another well-intentioned member of the ruling elite who became drunk on his own power and was brought down in a nasty coup, hence the defacing, but really, that describes just about every Argentinian president. And they all have their own statues, and streets named after them. It's odd.
I blame my mother for not letting me do cartwheels in a busy city street.
posted by Dave Peer at 5:08 p.m.
4 Comments:
First: If only you had a hunch that verdura meant vegetable. I would love to have heard you try and make a noise like a vegetable. What would that sound like exactly? Nevertheless, the idea of you mooing and baaing is pretty funny too!
Second: I cant believe that Deb/Dad/Mom/Kate/anyone-who-loves-you let you out of the house, headed for Buenos Aires, with 20 books in your backpack and no sandles! (I can hear their cries of innocence now!)
Third: Stay away from those break dancers in the street- they can have a corrupting influence!
Take care of yourself!
Lots of love from London,
Jen
2:50 p.m.
She always told me to go play in traffic!!!
9:22 p.m.
(Commencing cry of innocence):
Oh Jen, I tried to reason on the books issue. Eventually, I just kind of washed my hands of the whole thing.
(Incidentally, I, too, would have loved to see you impersonate a vegetable).
9:41 p.m.
I don't know . . . big crunching noise? Squat on the floor and then slowly "grow" until I'm standing and my arms are outstretched? Start harvesting imaginary vegetables off of the floor. It was a failure of imagination on my part.
And obviously, those who favour packing sandals over books when travelling to a place that averages 25C every day, obviously you didn't foresee the sandal warehouse liquidation sale. Very shortsighted.
10:07 p.m.
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