Slowly sautee some fresh Inca over low heat. Gradually incorporate a few generous handfuls of Spain, a pinch of Jesuit and stir, smashing the Inca with a fork until it has evaporated. Whisk in a cup of Genoa and simmer on low heat. Encorporate a cupful of Paris, add a couple sprigs of London Docklands, season with a pinch of Upper West Side, then garnish with freshly grated Williamsburg to taste, and serve.
This city is nothing short of incredible. The people are super friendly. We have been here almost a week and admittedly, we haven't yet gotten past our infatuation phase. You know, when you can't take your eyes off someone and it doesn't matter where you are as long as you're with them.
We rented a little studio apartment in the very cool neighborhood of Palermo Viejo. It has a murphy bed (that you pull out of the wall) in the living room, a small balcony, a tiny kitchen and internet access. Perfect. Right next door is a Cantonese restaurant and about 10 blocks away is a hive of local designer shops, bars and restaurants. We've been taking it easy, staying out late, sleeping in, familiarizing oursleves with the hood, and even cooking some meals in. As I've mentioned before, any semblance of home on the trip is highly important to us.
We were supposed to make a trip back down south to see the glaciers but decided to bag it for our pretend porteño lifestyles here.
Early this week, we checked out the famous Recoleta Cemetary where many of considerable stature are buried. Several thousand mausoleums crowd the arteries of pathways that spread through the grounds of the cemetary, holding the remains of the city's elite, military heroes, politicians, and the highlight, Evita Peron and her entire family. Dusty plastic flowers, crucifixes, cobwebs, forgotten coffins and cold marble sarcophagi mute and frozen in time behind cloudy glass doors, sometimes broken, sometimes ajar, probably victim to attempted grave robbings. You can sometimes see the bones inside of a coffin because the lid had been tampered with. This surreal city of the dead is so mesmerizing, marble angels and crucifixes rise motionless above the skyline of the cemetary until abruptly interrupted by the view of an advertising billboard or apartment building outside of its walls.
Walking away from the cemetary towards the shopping district of Recoleta, it feels like you're strolling down Park Avenue in New York. High rise apartment buildings boast Parisian architecture, wide open boulevards are flanked by leafy sidewalks. There is a decidedly higher concentration of well dressed Porteños and also of tourists. The shopping streets are way too crowded for us and we immediately jump a cab back to our neighborhood for lunch.
Palermo Viejo is divided into sub-neighborhoods: Palermo Soho (where we are, filled with local Argentinian designer shops, all incredibly well designed, hip restaurants, great bars, and home to writer Jorge Luis Borges. Across the train tracks is Palermo Hollywood, named so because of the many film and TV production studios there. Hollywood has fewer shops but has just as many great restaurants. It feels like the Lower East Side here, cobblestone streets, cosy little neighborhood joints. There is also Palermo Queens but we haven't figured out where that is yet.
Food-wise, there is definitely a more ethnic selection of restaurants: Japanese, Vietnamese, Chinese, Indian, Korean, Thai. The other day we even found a Singaporean dish at one restaurant. Definitely a welcome break from the parilla party.
Over the weekend we did a bike tour of the city. This is the perfect way to see the city because a) we have a strong dislike for tour buses big and small, b) we get some exercise and 3) it's the genuine article. We saw so many other parts of the city and learned some really interested factoids like:
* The Boca Juniors (they decided on their colors, blue and yellow by the colors on the first ship that passes through the harbor) Stadium is located in La Boca. All you futbol fans know that their archrivals are River and their team colors are red and white. There happens to be Coca Cola banners all over the stadium (this is a Coke drinking country if I ever saw one) and they said absolutely no way to the classic red and white colors of Coke and all their banners display the classic Coke logo in black and white. This is serious stuff. (For you East Bay people, Boca are the equivalent of the Raiders and River are the 9-ers.)
* The Tango originated in the dingy harbor neighborhood of La Boca, it was a nostalgic and sad dance that the immigrants created to dance away their sorrows, so to speak. It was originally a dance between two men, in competition for a lady waiting in the wings (the men from Italy came to these shores alone, without their wives or family). Tango was not readily accepted among the upper class here as it was always considered an immigrant artform. At least not until the Tango was popularized in Paris that the Porteños jumped to say that it originated on their shores.
We also took a mate break during our ride, another educational experience. We have been doing it ALL WRONG. This mate tasted great, unlike ours. We're back to being hooked except we need new equipment. Our gourd, though cool looking, may be mouldy, but we can't tell bec mould is also the color of mate. Either way, we have agreed that buying a new mate vessel is probably more hygenic.
Having said all this, the most sobering part of our tour was finding out about the 9 million or so people who live on the outskirts of this perfect European city. Shoved to the other side of the tracks and swept under the rug are slums called villas (vee-zhas) housing thousands of familes who live below the poverty line. There is simply no hint of this when one flies into Buenos Aires for a one week visit, kept busy dining and drinking at top restaurants for a steal, watching 'tango for export' as some call it, toting armfulls of shopping bags from designer shops . The poor here are invisible. But if you look closely you will begin to see it, young shirtless men called Cartoneros, cardboard collectors, who go through the city's trash for all the recyclables and sell it by the kilo for pittance. These young cartoneros singlehandedly pull carts the size SUVs, fully loaded. A full load might get you 30 pesos (or U$10) which is enough to feed an entire family for maybe a day. Ghosts walking within the shadow of night.
Ok, so we find an ugly spot on our shiny new crush. It adds an important dimension to the whole but it doesn't change the fact that we still love it. Much more to explore in the next few days...check back.
For photos of Buenos Aires so far, go to:
http://flickr.com/photos/31967627@N00/sets/72157594508422110/
