Buenos Aires

My reflection in a moseleum door.

Day 1:

The moment I stepped out of the bus station in Buenos Aires, I got robbed. A woman I thought was a taxi driver "put my backpack into the trunk" and i didnt even realize it was missing untill I arrived at the hostal. The real taxi driver helped me report it to a police officer nearby, but the probability of seeing it again was impossible. Everything valuable was in my purse and everything I really needed was in my large backpack, but my bus tickets i had just bought, guide book, jacket, food, journal, and some other items that could be valuable to no one but me WERE inside.

So after checking into the hostal I went back to the bus station. The woman was not in sight and the police officer did not seem surprised or concerened. He just told me to file a report. Robert and I circled the block to see if the robber had thrown it aside when she realized it was worthless, but she hadnt. What we did find was a huge slum and a open air market where lots of suitcases, backpacks, and things that are normally inside luggage were being sold. As we were heading back to the bus station someone came running up behind me, hit me in the back of the head and tried to rip my purse away from me. I wouldnt let go and he ran off thank goodness with out anything.

Lesson One, do NOT hang out near the Buenos Aires bus station. Do NOT trust the "taxi drivers" that talk to you at the curb.

Later that evening I went and saw a tango show at Cafe Tortoni. It was completely worth the expense. The show was done play style, with live music, a singer/narrorator, tango dancers, and a tap dancer/percusionist. Just what I needed to forget about the stress of the day.

DAY TWO: spent all afternoon in the Paraguayan consulate applying for a visa. It was shoulder to shoulder packed, but necessary since I have plane tickets on the 13th out of Asuncịn.

Afer that I took some time on my own wandering the city. Don`t worry, the center of the city is not anywhere near as dangerous as the slums or the bus station. I walked by some government buildings, the obelisque (a twin of the washington monument in the center of Buenos Aires), and did some shopping to replace my stolen backpack and sweater. Another spirit lifting activity.

That evening I met up with a friend from Australia who I have now met up with in two countries and some of his friends from Denmark at a barbeque place. The wine was fine and I tried one little bite of steak. Now, I have been a vegitarian for six years, but I knew I couldnt come to Argentina without trying some of their world famous steak. It was delicious, but DO NOT take that as a sign that I have reverted. It was just a sample of the culture and I will continue being a vegitarian.

TODAY: I went back to the Paraguay embassy bright and early and was shocked to find that my visa was done and ready to go. Now that I have my passport back that means I can take a daytrip boat to Uruguay tomorrow if I can get tickets.

Afterwards I went to Recoleta, a beautiful historical section of the city. My first step was the famous cemetary I`ve heard so much about that was begun in 1892, but has older remains kept there. My tour of it was spectacular because there are over 4,000 elaborately constructed family mosoleums where the presidents, the rich and the famous are layed to rest.

I followed a tour for awhile, then broke away to take pictures. It gave me chills when I saw my own reflection on the glass door of a moseleum, my own image superimposed over that of death and I realized that some day I will be in something like that as well. As I was wandering in the less traficked part of the cementary, an old man approached me. He explained to me that he had been working in the cementary for 12 years as a caretaker and gave me a personalized tour, explaining the imported architecture, interesting family histories, and how the people died. Then he took out a huge ring of keys. As the door of a black marble mosoleum swung open, chills ran through my body again.

"Go ahead," he told me, but I was scared. Scenes from horror movies flashed through my head of getting locked in a mosoleum and never seeing the light of day again, but then i realized he was being generous to give me a sneak peak.

The air inside was musty, coffins covered in dust, decaying flowers hung from rusty vases. He opened up a golden grate that led way to a spiral stair. I followed him down and saw the boxes where over 20 family corpses are kept. Some in small boxes of ashes or dust, others in full coffins. Every mosoleum there has two underground levels and a main level where the original or most recently deceased family member is kept. Most had stained or clear glass windows on the doors. Others were more like statues with doors. He showed me a couple more telling me all of the death stories as we went along.

My hands were shaking I was so creeped out and I was pretty hungry too, but he kept on talking when I said I wanted to go. He must have just appreciated the company of a living soul. I thanked him and left the cementary as fast as I could. Explored the giant cathedral next door with gold encrusted altars, had lunch on a patio restaurant, checked out a museum of physics (like the discovery center in boise) with interactive exhibits, wandered around the plazas and parks, then found my way to the National Museum of Fine Arts where I spent all afternoon. The art collection was phenomenal, reiging all the way from Pre-hispanic indigenous art, european renaissance art, all the way up to modern art, including 12 foot tapestries, sculptures, photograpy, and even pieces by Rembrandt, Salvador Dali and Monet.

So here in Buenos Aires I`ve had the best of times and the worst of times, but every second has been an experience of a lifetime.

Hasta Pronto!