Monday, May 28, 2007
Weekend of nostalgia in Mendoza
I’m so glad I decided to (put off work and) go to Mendoza this weekend. I can’t believe that I was able to go back to my city, my neighborhood, my house and my family from the AFS program I did four years ago. I had an amazing time being nostalgic, taking in new sites and living the hostel life. I realized this weekend that my time here is so full of rich and different experiences that I get more out of one day than I would out of a typical week or even a month at Stanford. I also realized that Argentina is undoubtedly my favorite foreign country and I feel at home whenever I travel there.
To begin with, it was an eight hour bus ride from Santiago to Mendoza through the Andes mountains. The views were incredible—starting with desert landscape, then huge, rocky and snowy peaks and ending with the beautiful sight that is Mendoza in the fall. Tons of trucks and tour buses were making the journey through the winding mountain roads. We stopped at the border right in the middle of the mountains to go through customs, and stood in a freezing cold warehouse waiting to get our passports stamped and bags checked. Both Argentina and Chile are very strict about bringing food or natural items from country to country—more on this later.
We got to Mendoza around 5:30pm and I started getting really excited as we pulled into the bus terminal, the first I ever saw of Mendoza when I arrived last time. I caught a taxi to my nearby hostel, which was painted bright yellow and seemed like a fun place for travelers, even though it seemed pretty dead at that hour. I settled into my room and met three Argentine women who were visiting for the weekend. Friday, May 25th is a big Argentine holiday commemorating the war of independence so everyone had Friday off and I met lots of Argentines from other cities, particularly from Buenos Aires, who were taking advantage of the long weekend.
First I bit the bullet and called my old host family. I haven’t really been in contact with them for about three years, but thanks to my mom and paginas amarillas online, I was able to get their phone number. My host mother Gladys answered, and I started my entire schpiel: “I don’t know if you remember me, but I lived with you four years ago through an exchange program…” et cetera. Gladys wasn’t exactly thrilled, and I’m not sure how well she remembered my (they’ve hosted a lot of other students since then) but she told me she would tell my host brother Valentin to call.
I was so excited that I was going to make plans to see my old host family! I immediately went for a quick walk to the city center, less than five blocks from my hostel, before it got dark. I found a Mr. Dog (fast food chain) and ordered a lomo, a warm beef sandwich topped with cheese and a fried egg. It’s pretty much the best thing I remember eating when I was in Mendoza before and the Chilean lomos just don’t cut it. I spent the rest of the evening hanging out at the hostel and meeting people. The hostel was amazing and the staff was constantly feeding us. In the afternoon they served torta frita (really delicious fried bread) and hot chocolate. Later we had a huge asado (traditional Argentine barbecue) with tons of different types of beef, as well as salad, bread and Mendozan wine. The hostel staff was incredibly fun and friendly, and at the asado I met a bunch of people—a couple of groups from Buenos Aires, a girl from Hamburg and a group of Scottish kids traveling South America together. The Scots spoke very little Spanish and only a few of the Argentines spoke English, so I got to be the translator between the different groups which was a lot of fun. I spent the next couple hours talking with the Scottish kids until I left to meet Valentin at a nearby club called Iskra. I tried to get the Scots to come along but they told me they were leaving for Santiago early the next morning. I gave them some recommendations for the city and hopefully I can meet up with them later this week.
When my cab pulled up to the club, I saw Valentin in the doorway and I couldn’t believe that I was seeing him again. He looked almost exactly the same, but personality-wise he and I had both calmed down a lot in four years so it was really fun to hang out with him. He also brought along his girlfriend of one year (this is big news to me… Valentin always struck me as a player) who was really pretty and nice. We found some couches in the bar area and listened to the band that was playing while enjoying some wine. I even recognized some of the songs they were playing from the last time I was in Mendoza… which made me infinitely happy. Eventually the music changed when a DJ took over and we took to the massive dance floor. Valentin and his girlfriend were pretty exhausted because they had gone out the night before due to the holiday, so it was a relatively calm night. I got back to the hostel and discovered that my room was now full after two British guys got in late that night.
On Saturday I was determined to see a little more of the center of Mendoza, having not spent a lot of time there in my last visit. I got to the central square, Plaza de Independencia, and found a massive celebration for the 25 de mayo holiday. A man was preparing a massive asado in one corner, and there were several stages set up for different performances. I watched a middle school band perform patriotic songs which was really enjoyable. It was a gorgeous day and everyone was out enjoying the sunshine and the spirit of the patria. From the plaza I walked down Avenida Sarimento, the main street for restaurants and shops and open only to pedestrians. I had a delicious pasta lunch while being serenaded by a couple of street performers. The student band also marched by in a small parade while I was eating. All the buildings in the centro were decorated with Argentine flag bunting, and many of the locals were wearing flag ribbons and pins to honor the day. It was then that I realized how much I love Argentina and how lucky I am to be able to see both July 9th (Argentine Independence Day) the last time I was in Mendoza and now May 25th, two of the country’s biggest holidays. I spent another hour or so exploring the nearby streets and plazas. In one part of Sarimento poems and quotes have been written on the ground with plastic letters that were unfortunately half-gone. I also loved seeing the Plaza de España, paying homage to the mother country and fully decorated with colorful ceramic tiles and murals.
In the afternoon I took a taxi to my old neighborhood, and the adjacent mall, Shopping Palmares Open Mall (its full authentically Spanish name) where I used to hang out. Once again, I was completely in awe of the fact that I was back there and every store brought back so many memories. Here is where Valentin and my host siblings and I used to get ice cream… here is where Theresa and I used to order lomos and bring them home to eat… here is where I saw Pirates of the Caribbean (the first one…I felt so old that now they were showing the third installment)… here’s where I bought that jacket… here’s where I got my little host brother a Hulk action figure for his birthday… here’s where I went to the grocery store to buy ingredients when I tried to bake cookies for my family. And on and on. The entire time I was dodging families and huge groups of kids, who turned out en masse during the holiday weekend to shop and see movies.
Just blocks away from my old house, I called up Valentin and asked if I could stop by. My family lives in a gated community, and I had made that walk from the front gates to their house so many times. When I got to the house, my little brother Agustin was there to open the door. He was only nine when I lived with them and now he’s thirteen, tall and grumbly like any other teenage boy. But he looked exactly the same, and I remembered how much fun the two of us had… he was definitely my closest buddy in the family. I went inside and met my host parents and my mother’s mother, who I don’t remember meeting before but was glad to see nonetheless. Later my little sister Maria Victoria (Toyi) came in, and she had definitely changed the most from a little 8 year old to a busy 12 year old. She spent all her time at home on the phone making plans with friends and then running outside and inside to greet them and bring them in. I recognized one of her little friends from the neighborhood who used to hang out at our house all the time. The house had changed a little, but the atmosphere was exactly the same. I sat at the kitchen table, making small talk with whoever was taking a temporary break, while the rest of the family ran around the house, yelling at each other, getting ready to go out, putting their stuff away. I felt a little isolated from the craziness of the family but at the same time I remembered how many times I had been in that exact situation and it made me happy. It also reminded me a lot of my real family back home, and it was great to be in a house with so many kids and so much activity just like I am used to. It was then that I talked with my newfound host grandmother, the only family member who wasn’t running around and yelling like crazy. She was really sweet and definitely reminded me of my grandmother, who is the eye in the storm that is my family when she comes to visit.
Valentin told me that his parents were going to see Agustin play in a basketball game at his local club and I was definitely excited to come along. It was the best of all worlds—I was in Argentina with my old host family, we were doing exactly what I do with my real family when I’m at home and we get to see a basketball game too. And what a game it was. We were behind for the first three quarters after being ahead in the first ten minutes. The game wasn’t too intense as the visiting team started to pull away, so I sat and had bread and mate (Argentine tea, and pretty much the most authentic Argentine food item) and chatted with the other parents. But at the end of the third quarter, our team started catching up, and we ended the third quarter just one point behind the opponents. This made the last quarter extremely entertaining, as the parents of both teams celebrated whenever points were scored and we all got caught up in the competition. Even though the other team was much better at shooting and defense, we had some amazing plays and ended up winning the game by just two points after scoring with 45 seconds left. All the families rejoiced and we went down to the court to take photos of the victorious team. So basically it was an incredible game and a great way to spend time with my host family.
After the game we spent a little time at home before heading out to dinner. Toyi was planning some giant pizza party at the house so she and Agustin stayed behind. As we left, a flood of middle school-aged kids descended upon the house and lined up to greet every member of the family (with a kiss on the cheek, as is customary). It struck me how much those two are like my little brother and sister, and I was so happy to be spending time with their Argentine counterparts if not the real deal. Valentin and my parents and I went to a restaurant called Decimo, on the tenth floor of the Gómez Building, an art deco-style building that is one of the tallest in Mendoza. The views from the restaurant were amazing, and the food was excellent as well. We started out with some delicious cheeses and Mendozan wine (of course), and both Valentin and I had sushi for dinner. Like the Mexican food I finally got in Brazil, I have been craving sushi since I left the US and I was thrilled to finally have some in a place that was not sketchy. (Cheap sushi in Santiago = bad idea.) I gave my host family updates on my life and my real family and I got to hear about some of their adventures as well. Valentin is constantly traveling and this winter he’s spending three months in Hawaii guiding scuba divers. I was pretty jealous of all the different places he’s traveled and worked and once again I imagined a future where I could travel the world…
After taking in some views of Mendoza from the restaurant’s outdoor patio, my family dropped me off at my hostel and we said our goodbyes. I was thinking of staying in and resting up at the hostel for the night, but the mayhem that greeted me there made me think twice. Two groups of Londoners had arrived the night before, and they were planning a night at the boliche (club) district, about 10 miles from the central area of Mendoza. There was also a massive celebration/dance party going on in the hostel bar, and a British girl was trying to convince the hostel owners to take in a stray dog that was pitifully pacing outside the door. (I can’t believe they let him in for a while… he was cute, but eww, you don’t know where that dog’s been or what kind of diseases he has!) Some porteños (people from Buenos Aires), Brits and I hung out, danced and played pool before we took a bunch of taxis to the clubs. I spent the 20-minute taxi ride translating between one porteño and two British guys, neither of whom could speak the other’s language. It was quite fun. We ended up at a massive club with three floors and three different types of music (cumbia, electronic dance and rock) which we all explored over the next couple hours.
On Sunday I got up early to catch my bus. After a quick breakfast in the hostel, I said goodbye to the staff and some of the cool people I met this weekend. I’m really glad I traveled by myself because it forced me to meet some amazing new people. I also worked on my Spanish a lot and got a little break from the isolation of the Stanford program and group. Hopefully I’ll meet up with some of the porteños when I go to Buenos Aires next weekend. After really great experiences in Buenos Aires, Rio and Mendoza, I am loving the hostel lifestyle and the people I meet there. It makes me think that I could do a European tour some time… the idea is so incredibly tempting.
The bus ride back was uneventful, except for the border crossing which took more than an hour because someone before us was trying to bring in a lot of food. It was gorgeous but freezing to be waiting in the middle of the snow-capped mountains for our inspections. When it was our bus’ turn, we laid out our bags on long tables and a trained dog walked over them to smell for organic materials. There were no problems until the last bag—a nun was hiding some fruit preserves. A nun! I also had to explain myself extensively to the Chilean customs officer, where I was staying and what I was studying. It seemed like they didn’t want to let me back in. After I finally got back to Santiago, I spent the rest of the afternoon with my host family eating and goofing off. We all have so much fun together. Fefi and I play silly games and make up stories with her Barbies, Daniela and I sing High School Musical and watch trailers for Hairspray online, Claudio asks me for all the details on my trips and Francis and I talk about our favorite telenovela and our families. I couldn’t ask for a better host family and even though I am constantly traveling away from them, I am always happy to come back to them.
To begin with, it was an eight hour bus ride from Santiago to Mendoza through the Andes mountains. The views were incredible—starting with desert landscape, then huge, rocky and snowy peaks and ending with the beautiful sight that is Mendoza in the fall. Tons of trucks and tour buses were making the journey through the winding mountain roads. We stopped at the border right in the middle of the mountains to go through customs, and stood in a freezing cold warehouse waiting to get our passports stamped and bags checked. Both Argentina and Chile are very strict about bringing food or natural items from country to country—more on this later.
We got to Mendoza around 5:30pm and I started getting really excited as we pulled into the bus terminal, the first I ever saw of Mendoza when I arrived last time. I caught a taxi to my nearby hostel, which was painted bright yellow and seemed like a fun place for travelers, even though it seemed pretty dead at that hour. I settled into my room and met three Argentine women who were visiting for the weekend. Friday, May 25th is a big Argentine holiday commemorating the war of independence so everyone had Friday off and I met lots of Argentines from other cities, particularly from Buenos Aires, who were taking advantage of the long weekend.
First I bit the bullet and called my old host family. I haven’t really been in contact with them for about three years, but thanks to my mom and paginas amarillas online, I was able to get their phone number. My host mother Gladys answered, and I started my entire schpiel: “I don’t know if you remember me, but I lived with you four years ago through an exchange program…” et cetera. Gladys wasn’t exactly thrilled, and I’m not sure how well she remembered my (they’ve hosted a lot of other students since then) but she told me she would tell my host brother Valentin to call.
I was so excited that I was going to make plans to see my old host family! I immediately went for a quick walk to the city center, less than five blocks from my hostel, before it got dark. I found a Mr. Dog (fast food chain) and ordered a lomo, a warm beef sandwich topped with cheese and a fried egg. It’s pretty much the best thing I remember eating when I was in Mendoza before and the Chilean lomos just don’t cut it. I spent the rest of the evening hanging out at the hostel and meeting people. The hostel was amazing and the staff was constantly feeding us. In the afternoon they served torta frita (really delicious fried bread) and hot chocolate. Later we had a huge asado (traditional Argentine barbecue) with tons of different types of beef, as well as salad, bread and Mendozan wine. The hostel staff was incredibly fun and friendly, and at the asado I met a bunch of people—a couple of groups from Buenos Aires, a girl from Hamburg and a group of Scottish kids traveling South America together. The Scots spoke very little Spanish and only a few of the Argentines spoke English, so I got to be the translator between the different groups which was a lot of fun. I spent the next couple hours talking with the Scottish kids until I left to meet Valentin at a nearby club called Iskra. I tried to get the Scots to come along but they told me they were leaving for Santiago early the next morning. I gave them some recommendations for the city and hopefully I can meet up with them later this week.
When my cab pulled up to the club, I saw Valentin in the doorway and I couldn’t believe that I was seeing him again. He looked almost exactly the same, but personality-wise he and I had both calmed down a lot in four years so it was really fun to hang out with him. He also brought along his girlfriend of one year (this is big news to me… Valentin always struck me as a player) who was really pretty and nice. We found some couches in the bar area and listened to the band that was playing while enjoying some wine. I even recognized some of the songs they were playing from the last time I was in Mendoza… which made me infinitely happy. Eventually the music changed when a DJ took over and we took to the massive dance floor. Valentin and his girlfriend were pretty exhausted because they had gone out the night before due to the holiday, so it was a relatively calm night. I got back to the hostel and discovered that my room was now full after two British guys got in late that night.
On Saturday I was determined to see a little more of the center of Mendoza, having not spent a lot of time there in my last visit. I got to the central square, Plaza de Independencia, and found a massive celebration for the 25 de mayo holiday. A man was preparing a massive asado in one corner, and there were several stages set up for different performances. I watched a middle school band perform patriotic songs which was really enjoyable. It was a gorgeous day and everyone was out enjoying the sunshine and the spirit of the patria. From the plaza I walked down Avenida Sarimento, the main street for restaurants and shops and open only to pedestrians. I had a delicious pasta lunch while being serenaded by a couple of street performers. The student band also marched by in a small parade while I was eating. All the buildings in the centro were decorated with Argentine flag bunting, and many of the locals were wearing flag ribbons and pins to honor the day. It was then that I realized how much I love Argentina and how lucky I am to be able to see both July 9th (Argentine Independence Day) the last time I was in Mendoza and now May 25th, two of the country’s biggest holidays. I spent another hour or so exploring the nearby streets and plazas. In one part of Sarimento poems and quotes have been written on the ground with plastic letters that were unfortunately half-gone. I also loved seeing the Plaza de España, paying homage to the mother country and fully decorated with colorful ceramic tiles and murals.
In the afternoon I took a taxi to my old neighborhood, and the adjacent mall, Shopping Palmares Open Mall (its full authentically Spanish name) where I used to hang out. Once again, I was completely in awe of the fact that I was back there and every store brought back so many memories. Here is where Valentin and my host siblings and I used to get ice cream… here is where Theresa and I used to order lomos and bring them home to eat… here is where I saw Pirates of the Caribbean (the first one…I felt so old that now they were showing the third installment)… here’s where I bought that jacket… here’s where I got my little host brother a Hulk action figure for his birthday… here’s where I went to the grocery store to buy ingredients when I tried to bake cookies for my family. And on and on. The entire time I was dodging families and huge groups of kids, who turned out en masse during the holiday weekend to shop and see movies.
Just blocks away from my old house, I called up Valentin and asked if I could stop by. My family lives in a gated community, and I had made that walk from the front gates to their house so many times. When I got to the house, my little brother Agustin was there to open the door. He was only nine when I lived with them and now he’s thirteen, tall and grumbly like any other teenage boy. But he looked exactly the same, and I remembered how much fun the two of us had… he was definitely my closest buddy in the family. I went inside and met my host parents and my mother’s mother, who I don’t remember meeting before but was glad to see nonetheless. Later my little sister Maria Victoria (Toyi) came in, and she had definitely changed the most from a little 8 year old to a busy 12 year old. She spent all her time at home on the phone making plans with friends and then running outside and inside to greet them and bring them in. I recognized one of her little friends from the neighborhood who used to hang out at our house all the time. The house had changed a little, but the atmosphere was exactly the same. I sat at the kitchen table, making small talk with whoever was taking a temporary break, while the rest of the family ran around the house, yelling at each other, getting ready to go out, putting their stuff away. I felt a little isolated from the craziness of the family but at the same time I remembered how many times I had been in that exact situation and it made me happy. It also reminded me a lot of my real family back home, and it was great to be in a house with so many kids and so much activity just like I am used to. It was then that I talked with my newfound host grandmother, the only family member who wasn’t running around and yelling like crazy. She was really sweet and definitely reminded me of my grandmother, who is the eye in the storm that is my family when she comes to visit.
Valentin told me that his parents were going to see Agustin play in a basketball game at his local club and I was definitely excited to come along. It was the best of all worlds—I was in Argentina with my old host family, we were doing exactly what I do with my real family when I’m at home and we get to see a basketball game too. And what a game it was. We were behind for the first three quarters after being ahead in the first ten minutes. The game wasn’t too intense as the visiting team started to pull away, so I sat and had bread and mate (Argentine tea, and pretty much the most authentic Argentine food item) and chatted with the other parents. But at the end of the third quarter, our team started catching up, and we ended the third quarter just one point behind the opponents. This made the last quarter extremely entertaining, as the parents of both teams celebrated whenever points were scored and we all got caught up in the competition. Even though the other team was much better at shooting and defense, we had some amazing plays and ended up winning the game by just two points after scoring with 45 seconds left. All the families rejoiced and we went down to the court to take photos of the victorious team. So basically it was an incredible game and a great way to spend time with my host family.
After the game we spent a little time at home before heading out to dinner. Toyi was planning some giant pizza party at the house so she and Agustin stayed behind. As we left, a flood of middle school-aged kids descended upon the house and lined up to greet every member of the family (with a kiss on the cheek, as is customary). It struck me how much those two are like my little brother and sister, and I was so happy to be spending time with their Argentine counterparts if not the real deal. Valentin and my parents and I went to a restaurant called Decimo, on the tenth floor of the Gómez Building, an art deco-style building that is one of the tallest in Mendoza. The views from the restaurant were amazing, and the food was excellent as well. We started out with some delicious cheeses and Mendozan wine (of course), and both Valentin and I had sushi for dinner. Like the Mexican food I finally got in Brazil, I have been craving sushi since I left the US and I was thrilled to finally have some in a place that was not sketchy. (Cheap sushi in Santiago = bad idea.) I gave my host family updates on my life and my real family and I got to hear about some of their adventures as well. Valentin is constantly traveling and this winter he’s spending three months in Hawaii guiding scuba divers. I was pretty jealous of all the different places he’s traveled and worked and once again I imagined a future where I could travel the world…
After taking in some views of Mendoza from the restaurant’s outdoor patio, my family dropped me off at my hostel and we said our goodbyes. I was thinking of staying in and resting up at the hostel for the night, but the mayhem that greeted me there made me think twice. Two groups of Londoners had arrived the night before, and they were planning a night at the boliche (club) district, about 10 miles from the central area of Mendoza. There was also a massive celebration/dance party going on in the hostel bar, and a British girl was trying to convince the hostel owners to take in a stray dog that was pitifully pacing outside the door. (I can’t believe they let him in for a while… he was cute, but eww, you don’t know where that dog’s been or what kind of diseases he has!) Some porteños (people from Buenos Aires), Brits and I hung out, danced and played pool before we took a bunch of taxis to the clubs. I spent the 20-minute taxi ride translating between one porteño and two British guys, neither of whom could speak the other’s language. It was quite fun. We ended up at a massive club with three floors and three different types of music (cumbia, electronic dance and rock) which we all explored over the next couple hours.
On Sunday I got up early to catch my bus. After a quick breakfast in the hostel, I said goodbye to the staff and some of the cool people I met this weekend. I’m really glad I traveled by myself because it forced me to meet some amazing new people. I also worked on my Spanish a lot and got a little break from the isolation of the Stanford program and group. Hopefully I’ll meet up with some of the porteños when I go to Buenos Aires next weekend. After really great experiences in Buenos Aires, Rio and Mendoza, I am loving the hostel lifestyle and the people I meet there. It makes me think that I could do a European tour some time… the idea is so incredibly tempting.
The bus ride back was uneventful, except for the border crossing which took more than an hour because someone before us was trying to bring in a lot of food. It was gorgeous but freezing to be waiting in the middle of the snow-capped mountains for our inspections. When it was our bus’ turn, we laid out our bags on long tables and a trained dog walked over them to smell for organic materials. There were no problems until the last bag—a nun was hiding some fruit preserves. A nun! I also had to explain myself extensively to the Chilean customs officer, where I was staying and what I was studying. It seemed like they didn’t want to let me back in. After I finally got back to Santiago, I spent the rest of the afternoon with my host family eating and goofing off. We all have so much fun together. Fefi and I play silly games and make up stories with her Barbies, Daniela and I sing High School Musical and watch trailers for Hairspray online, Claudio asks me for all the details on my trips and Francis and I talk about our favorite telenovela and our families. I couldn’t ask for a better host family and even though I am constantly traveling away from them, I am always happy to come back to them.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
across the cordillera
This week has been busy but productive. I got back from Brazil on Tuesday at 6am, actually getting to see my entire family before they left for work and school. I still have tons of work and I'm dreading the end of the quarter, but I realized that time is running out and there are still a couple amazing places that I need to see. So instead of staying home and pretending to work on essays while actually lying in bed and watching The Office season finale over and over, I'm going to Mendoza, Argentina, where I spent a summer four years ago through AFS. I am so excited to go back there and see some familiar sites, and maybe meet up with some Mendocinos. Tomorrow I leave Santiago and get to experience the 8-hour bus ride through the Andes, including a passport and customs check somewhere in the middle. I'm really excited for some amazing views and time to relax. Going by myself should be an adventure, but I need a break from the Stanford group and a little time alone. Hopefully the weather will be amazing, I'll meet some cool kids at the hostel, and I can get in contact with my old host family without showing up at their doorstep. I will update on Brazil and Mendoza after this weekend... when I embark on a final paper-writing marathon before I finish class. Have a great Memorial Day weekend, everybody!
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
fleeing the country
I am definitely loving Santiago and Chile a lot more than I was post-Buenos Aires. Still, I need a vacation! The Transantiago mess is just getting crazier here, with riots and demonstrations all the time. I'm getting tired of hearing President Bachelet make promises to end the madness, because I feel like a lot of this is her fault. The smog was so bad earlier this week that the government declared a pollution emergency. Today it is sunny and warmer, but for the past few days it has been cold and gray. I finally finished and turned in my last midterm, so it's time to go to the beach. I'm flying to Rio tomorrow morning and coming back on Tuesday morning (Monday is a holiday here). I definitely want to see lots of sites, do lots of shopping, and party at lots of clubs, but if I just end up laying out on the beach and enjoying the sunshine for five days, that's fine with me. No more exciting news here, except that almost half of the Stanford group is sick in various ways and I have managed to evade it (knock on wood). So, today I'm finishing up some work, exchanging some money, and saying goodbye to Santiago for a few days.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Santiago Adventures!
Even though last week was full of midterms, I managed to fit in several amazing experiences in Santiago. After falling in love with Buenos Aires so quickly, I realized I needed to give my own city more of a chance and I’m glad I did.
On Monday I went shopping in Providencia, just a few blocks toward the center of the city from the Stanford center. I thought the stores would be practically empty on a Monday at 2pm, but I was wrong. Hundreds of people were taking advantage of their lunch breaks and hitting the sales. It was then that I began to get a little jealous for the Stanford students who live in Providencia with their host families instead of Las Condes, my neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. I like Las Condes because it’s safer and not as crowded, but it feels more like the suburbs instead of the city. While Las Condes is mostly malls and movie theaters, Providencia offers better restaurants and an active nightlife, all within a few metro stops. I vowed to spend more time in Providencia, going out and enjoying my quarter abroad, no matter how many midterms I had to finish.
On Tuesday after classes about 25 of us headed to a soccer game at the Estadio Monumental, where local team Colo Colo was playing the Mexican team America. As soon as we got off the metro in the Southwest of the city, we knew exactly how to get to the stadium because the way was lined with vendors selling everything from Colo Colo jerseys and flags to pillows and aprons. I saw a mother stuffing her chubby toddler into a teeny Colo Colo jersey she had just bought in preparation for the game. The security to get into the stadium was pretty intense—violence at games is a problem in Santiago. Once inside, we grabbed some seats at midfield and a couple of completos (hot dogs with the works—tomatoes, avocado and mayo—classic Chilean fast food). We spent the hour or so before the game chatting and goofing off with a gang of hilarious 8-to-10 year old boys who had been raised to love Colo Colo. They amused us by shouting out random English phrases and swear words, and taught us a couple of basic cheers. The stadium filled with rowdy fans, almost all men, who began cursing and shouting ethnic slurs as soon as the Mexican team took the field. I’m glad I didn’t know exactly what they were saying… although I got the point. The game itself was not very exciting, with little action in the first 70 minutes followed by three goals at the end, but I was entertained by the crowd the entire time. Every fan in the stadium was shouting and cheering throughout the entire game, usually with a song or chant that everyone seemed to know. We picked up on the simplest ones that repeated “hace un gol,” “vamos a ganar esta noche,” or “Chile! Colo Colo de Chile!” We had pretty good seats surrounded by intense fans, but the rowdiest fans sit in the cheapest seats at the goals. We were happy to watch them at a distance, pounding on drums, jumping up and down nonstop, and occasionally lifting a huge banner over the entire section. The craziest fans are also the most violent, and sure enough a fight between them and the carabineros (riot police) broke out at the beginning of the second half. Seeing the stampede of fans was pretty scary, and the carabineros managed to carry off a few men who were particularly riled up. The post-game atmosphere was calm as all the fans trooped off, slightly defeated (we won the game but lost our chance at continuing on in the Copa Libertadores). All the metro stops closest to the stadium were shut down, trying to prevent destruction of the cars and the stations, which tends to happen after a big win. After following the line for a couple of stops, watching the groups of fans in the backs of pickup trucks and tank-like police trucks pass by, we cut our losses and took taxis home.
On Wednesday I was busy all day trying to finish up work, but I did go to the Biblioteca Municpal in order to do some research. Nothing too exciting there, I saw more students studying silently than I did books. Wednesday night was exciting for me, though—I felt my first earthquake! (I have been told that it was only a tremor, and not a real quake, but whatever.) I had been having vivid dreams all Wednesday night, so when I felt my room and bed shaking at about 1:30 am, I wasn’t sure whether it was really happening. I contemplated getting out of bed and going somewhere safer, thinking of all the safety debriefings I’ve heard at Stanford, but before I could figure out what was going on, it was over. The next morning I was sure I had dreamed it in a half-asleep, half-awake stage, but my family confirmed that there had been a tremor. I felt another one around noon on Thursday, but that one felt more like someone was shaking my chair than an actual movement of the ground.
I spent almost all of Thursday at the Universidad de Chile, attending a colloquium on the history of Africans in Latin America at the Humanities and Political Science campus at the south of the city. I heard scholars from around the world speak and debate about the origins, culture, and legacy of Afro-Latinos, which is the subject of one of my history classes this quarter. It was really interesting and I felt really lucky to be able to meet some of the world’s experts on this topic. It was also great to be at a local university campus surrounded by students, instead of in an office building in the city (where the Stanford center is located). After the colloquium we enjoyed wine and empanadas and I got to meet two staff members from Stanford Bing Overseas Studies who were visiting to check out our campus. We enjoyed swapping stories about experiences abroad and we got some good tips about restaurants in Santiago. On Thursday night a group of us went to Salsa Brava, a salsa and karaoke club in barrio Bellavista. The night started out slowly, as there was an intense karaoke competition (judges and all) going on that required the rest of us to observe quietly. But once that was over, they turned up the salsa music and we hit the dance floor. My salsa skills are minimal at best, but we have some pretty good dancers in our group so I got a little help. I was surprised by how fun the night was, even though we weren’t at a typical dance club.
On Friday we had a field trip to Viña Cousiño Macul, one of Santiago’s oldest wineries just on the outskirts of the city. The Viña has been around for 150 years and exports fine wines around the world (including to Milwaukee, I was excited to learn). We got to tour the wine cellars and taste a couple of their wines. Our tour guide told us one memorable story about an earthquake that caused hundreds of bottles in the “wine library” to break, creating a huge pool of wine that the vineyard workers were happy to “clean up” over the next few days. A bunch of students decided to spend the west of the weekend hiking in the hills south of the city, but I was exhausted and went back to the center instead. On the bus ride back, I was excited to see a demonstration of workers at an Easy (home construction chain) store. I heard chants and the banging of drums, and saw that they had hung an effigy of an Easy worker on a nearby lamppost. Outside the store was a sign that read, “Vendas x cielo, sueldos x suelo” (sales at the sky, salaries at the floor). A group of us went out to lunch at a Chinese restaurant in Providencia, near the shopping area. The food was good and many of us were happy to taste something semi-familiar other than bland Chilean food. On the way back we saw a man selling tiny puppies out of a box on the street, and we were all quite tempted to bring one home. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the center, enjoying lots of goodies sent by my mom and an AMAZING episode of The Office. I got home in time for dinner with the family and Papi Ricky, our favorite telenovela. I’m sure I’ve mentioned how my family loves this show and we watch it every night during dinner. I have always enjoyed the show since coming to Santiago, but this week things got really exciting and I paid better attention after reading up on the characters online. Plots to ruin weddings! Illegitimate twins being born! Bachelor parties of debauchery! Long lost mothers and sons reunited! Ex-lovers returning! Needless to say, I am very into Papi Ricky now and I can’t wait until Monday night’s episode. On Friday night, I met up with friends at Manuel Montt (central metro stop) for a night of barhopping that ended at a reggaeton club. It was a pretty relaxing night, and I met a kid from Argentina who was studying at University of Michigan but taking a vacation in Santiago. (You have to ask when someone is wearing a Michigan shirt.)
On Saturday I decided to do some sight-seeing in the city, so I took the metro to the Plaza de Armas (main plaza). Side note: Banquedano metro station, probably the biggest station and a central hub of two main lines, is pretty much the most confusing metro station I have ever seen. Switching lines was a ten-minute journey through narrow walkways and up and down several staircases, following tiny signs that poorly pointed the way. It was a cold, cloudy (smoggy) Saturday afternoon, but Plaza de Armas was filled with people, playing with their kids in the park, enjoying street performers and relaxing on the long rows of benches. A troupe of clowns had stationed themselves throughout the streets, getting lots of laughs by following, imitating and bothering anyone who happened to cross their path. An old magician performed simple tricks and a young man showed off his skills as a one-man band. Photographers set up little fake horses around the Plaza, trying to attract families to buy a souvenir photo of their kid riding one. One corner of the Plaza had an art fair, selling portraits and Chilean landscapes, while the other corner had a dance and limbo contest. The Plaza itself is beautiful, with lots of statues, different types of trees, and a gorgeous fountain at its center. It is surrounded by some of the city’s oldest buildings, including the Catedral Metrapolitana (1830), Municipalidad de Santiago (1785), Palacio de la Real Audiencia (1804), and Correo Central (1882).
I first went inside the Catedral, which amazed me with its high ceilings, marble foundations and elaborate altars. I spent nearly an hour inside, examining each of the saints, craning my neck to see the painted ceilings, and finding the tombs of several important Chilean religious figures, including its cardinals. The Catedral was absolutely gorgeous, and (dare I say it) even more magnificent than the Catedral in Buenos Aires. Afterwards I visited the Museo Histórico Nacional, located inside the Palacio de la Real Audiencia. For the discounted student price of just 300 pesos (60 cents), I got to see relics from throughout the history of Santiago, including a coat worn by Bernardo O’Higgins (first president and military hero), an enormous stuffed dog that had served as one president’s companion and protector in the 1920s, and the eyeglasses that president Salvador Allende was wearing on the day of the 1973 military coup when he shot and killed himself. Those glasses were the last item in the museum, presenting a chilling ending to the collection. The museum left the Pinochet era untouched, which was a little disappointing but understanding because his legacy is still so controversial. I wish I could have spent more time in the museum, but it closed at 5:30 and I headed home, with a quick stop at Jumbo to buy food and some flowers for my host mother (Día del Madre is the same in Chile). The mall was packed with families and people getting last-minute ingredients and Mother’s Day gifts. Seeing as my family spends most of its weekends preparing and eating food as a primary activity, I should have expected a 10-minute wait to pay (even though there have to be at least 30 cashiers at our super Jumbo).
On Saturday night I had an enjoyable dinner with my family, where my father carried on about his new vitamins and we finally had a political conversation (in which we all marveled at Bush’s stupidity). I went out around 1:30 to my now-favorite club El Tunel, where a group of us were celebrating a friend’s 21st birthday. I love El Tunel not only because of its ridiculous décor (gentlemen’s club meets Saturday night fever, complete with lit dance floor) and huge crowds of Chileans and gringos alike, but also because the music is different every time I go—this time, a mix of disco, funk and old-school rap. I was delighted to hear two of my new favorite songs—James Brown’s “Get Up (I Feel Like Being a) Sex Machine” and Run DMC/ Aerosmith’s “Walk this Way.” It was a fun and crazy night, and I’m really glad to have gone out three nights to three different clubs with three completely different atmospheres and types of music.
The next couple days I’ll be finishing up my midterms (finally) and getting started on my final papers (already), because I’m flying to BRAZIL on Thursday! I can’t wait for beaches, the beautiful sound of Portuguese in my ears and staying with my favorite Brazilian, Priscila!!
On Monday I went shopping in Providencia, just a few blocks toward the center of the city from the Stanford center. I thought the stores would be practically empty on a Monday at 2pm, but I was wrong. Hundreds of people were taking advantage of their lunch breaks and hitting the sales. It was then that I began to get a little jealous for the Stanford students who live in Providencia with their host families instead of Las Condes, my neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. I like Las Condes because it’s safer and not as crowded, but it feels more like the suburbs instead of the city. While Las Condes is mostly malls and movie theaters, Providencia offers better restaurants and an active nightlife, all within a few metro stops. I vowed to spend more time in Providencia, going out and enjoying my quarter abroad, no matter how many midterms I had to finish.
On Tuesday after classes about 25 of us headed to a soccer game at the Estadio Monumental, where local team Colo Colo was playing the Mexican team America. As soon as we got off the metro in the Southwest of the city, we knew exactly how to get to the stadium because the way was lined with vendors selling everything from Colo Colo jerseys and flags to pillows and aprons. I saw a mother stuffing her chubby toddler into a teeny Colo Colo jersey she had just bought in preparation for the game. The security to get into the stadium was pretty intense—violence at games is a problem in Santiago. Once inside, we grabbed some seats at midfield and a couple of completos (hot dogs with the works—tomatoes, avocado and mayo—classic Chilean fast food). We spent the hour or so before the game chatting and goofing off with a gang of hilarious 8-to-10 year old boys who had been raised to love Colo Colo. They amused us by shouting out random English phrases and swear words, and taught us a couple of basic cheers. The stadium filled with rowdy fans, almost all men, who began cursing and shouting ethnic slurs as soon as the Mexican team took the field. I’m glad I didn’t know exactly what they were saying… although I got the point. The game itself was not very exciting, with little action in the first 70 minutes followed by three goals at the end, but I was entertained by the crowd the entire time. Every fan in the stadium was shouting and cheering throughout the entire game, usually with a song or chant that everyone seemed to know. We picked up on the simplest ones that repeated “hace un gol,” “vamos a ganar esta noche,” or “Chile! Colo Colo de Chile!” We had pretty good seats surrounded by intense fans, but the rowdiest fans sit in the cheapest seats at the goals. We were happy to watch them at a distance, pounding on drums, jumping up and down nonstop, and occasionally lifting a huge banner over the entire section. The craziest fans are also the most violent, and sure enough a fight between them and the carabineros (riot police) broke out at the beginning of the second half. Seeing the stampede of fans was pretty scary, and the carabineros managed to carry off a few men who were particularly riled up. The post-game atmosphere was calm as all the fans trooped off, slightly defeated (we won the game but lost our chance at continuing on in the Copa Libertadores). All the metro stops closest to the stadium were shut down, trying to prevent destruction of the cars and the stations, which tends to happen after a big win. After following the line for a couple of stops, watching the groups of fans in the backs of pickup trucks and tank-like police trucks pass by, we cut our losses and took taxis home.
On Wednesday I was busy all day trying to finish up work, but I did go to the Biblioteca Municpal in order to do some research. Nothing too exciting there, I saw more students studying silently than I did books. Wednesday night was exciting for me, though—I felt my first earthquake! (I have been told that it was only a tremor, and not a real quake, but whatever.) I had been having vivid dreams all Wednesday night, so when I felt my room and bed shaking at about 1:30 am, I wasn’t sure whether it was really happening. I contemplated getting out of bed and going somewhere safer, thinking of all the safety debriefings I’ve heard at Stanford, but before I could figure out what was going on, it was over. The next morning I was sure I had dreamed it in a half-asleep, half-awake stage, but my family confirmed that there had been a tremor. I felt another one around noon on Thursday, but that one felt more like someone was shaking my chair than an actual movement of the ground.
I spent almost all of Thursday at the Universidad de Chile, attending a colloquium on the history of Africans in Latin America at the Humanities and Political Science campus at the south of the city. I heard scholars from around the world speak and debate about the origins, culture, and legacy of Afro-Latinos, which is the subject of one of my history classes this quarter. It was really interesting and I felt really lucky to be able to meet some of the world’s experts on this topic. It was also great to be at a local university campus surrounded by students, instead of in an office building in the city (where the Stanford center is located). After the colloquium we enjoyed wine and empanadas and I got to meet two staff members from Stanford Bing Overseas Studies who were visiting to check out our campus. We enjoyed swapping stories about experiences abroad and we got some good tips about restaurants in Santiago. On Thursday night a group of us went to Salsa Brava, a salsa and karaoke club in barrio Bellavista. The night started out slowly, as there was an intense karaoke competition (judges and all) going on that required the rest of us to observe quietly. But once that was over, they turned up the salsa music and we hit the dance floor. My salsa skills are minimal at best, but we have some pretty good dancers in our group so I got a little help. I was surprised by how fun the night was, even though we weren’t at a typical dance club.
On Friday we had a field trip to Viña Cousiño Macul, one of Santiago’s oldest wineries just on the outskirts of the city. The Viña has been around for 150 years and exports fine wines around the world (including to Milwaukee, I was excited to learn). We got to tour the wine cellars and taste a couple of their wines. Our tour guide told us one memorable story about an earthquake that caused hundreds of bottles in the “wine library” to break, creating a huge pool of wine that the vineyard workers were happy to “clean up” over the next few days. A bunch of students decided to spend the west of the weekend hiking in the hills south of the city, but I was exhausted and went back to the center instead. On the bus ride back, I was excited to see a demonstration of workers at an Easy (home construction chain) store. I heard chants and the banging of drums, and saw that they had hung an effigy of an Easy worker on a nearby lamppost. Outside the store was a sign that read, “Vendas x cielo, sueldos x suelo” (sales at the sky, salaries at the floor). A group of us went out to lunch at a Chinese restaurant in Providencia, near the shopping area. The food was good and many of us were happy to taste something semi-familiar other than bland Chilean food. On the way back we saw a man selling tiny puppies out of a box on the street, and we were all quite tempted to bring one home. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the center, enjoying lots of goodies sent by my mom and an AMAZING episode of The Office. I got home in time for dinner with the family and Papi Ricky, our favorite telenovela. I’m sure I’ve mentioned how my family loves this show and we watch it every night during dinner. I have always enjoyed the show since coming to Santiago, but this week things got really exciting and I paid better attention after reading up on the characters online. Plots to ruin weddings! Illegitimate twins being born! Bachelor parties of debauchery! Long lost mothers and sons reunited! Ex-lovers returning! Needless to say, I am very into Papi Ricky now and I can’t wait until Monday night’s episode. On Friday night, I met up with friends at Manuel Montt (central metro stop) for a night of barhopping that ended at a reggaeton club. It was a pretty relaxing night, and I met a kid from Argentina who was studying at University of Michigan but taking a vacation in Santiago. (You have to ask when someone is wearing a Michigan shirt.)
On Saturday I decided to do some sight-seeing in the city, so I took the metro to the Plaza de Armas (main plaza). Side note: Banquedano metro station, probably the biggest station and a central hub of two main lines, is pretty much the most confusing metro station I have ever seen. Switching lines was a ten-minute journey through narrow walkways and up and down several staircases, following tiny signs that poorly pointed the way. It was a cold, cloudy (smoggy) Saturday afternoon, but Plaza de Armas was filled with people, playing with their kids in the park, enjoying street performers and relaxing on the long rows of benches. A troupe of clowns had stationed themselves throughout the streets, getting lots of laughs by following, imitating and bothering anyone who happened to cross their path. An old magician performed simple tricks and a young man showed off his skills as a one-man band. Photographers set up little fake horses around the Plaza, trying to attract families to buy a souvenir photo of their kid riding one. One corner of the Plaza had an art fair, selling portraits and Chilean landscapes, while the other corner had a dance and limbo contest. The Plaza itself is beautiful, with lots of statues, different types of trees, and a gorgeous fountain at its center. It is surrounded by some of the city’s oldest buildings, including the Catedral Metrapolitana (1830), Municipalidad de Santiago (1785), Palacio de la Real Audiencia (1804), and Correo Central (1882).
I first went inside the Catedral, which amazed me with its high ceilings, marble foundations and elaborate altars. I spent nearly an hour inside, examining each of the saints, craning my neck to see the painted ceilings, and finding the tombs of several important Chilean religious figures, including its cardinals. The Catedral was absolutely gorgeous, and (dare I say it) even more magnificent than the Catedral in Buenos Aires. Afterwards I visited the Museo Histórico Nacional, located inside the Palacio de la Real Audiencia. For the discounted student price of just 300 pesos (60 cents), I got to see relics from throughout the history of Santiago, including a coat worn by Bernardo O’Higgins (first president and military hero), an enormous stuffed dog that had served as one president’s companion and protector in the 1920s, and the eyeglasses that president Salvador Allende was wearing on the day of the 1973 military coup when he shot and killed himself. Those glasses were the last item in the museum, presenting a chilling ending to the collection. The museum left the Pinochet era untouched, which was a little disappointing but understanding because his legacy is still so controversial. I wish I could have spent more time in the museum, but it closed at 5:30 and I headed home, with a quick stop at Jumbo to buy food and some flowers for my host mother (Día del Madre is the same in Chile). The mall was packed with families and people getting last-minute ingredients and Mother’s Day gifts. Seeing as my family spends most of its weekends preparing and eating food as a primary activity, I should have expected a 10-minute wait to pay (even though there have to be at least 30 cashiers at our super Jumbo).
On Saturday night I had an enjoyable dinner with my family, where my father carried on about his new vitamins and we finally had a political conversation (in which we all marveled at Bush’s stupidity). I went out around 1:30 to my now-favorite club El Tunel, where a group of us were celebrating a friend’s 21st birthday. I love El Tunel not only because of its ridiculous décor (gentlemen’s club meets Saturday night fever, complete with lit dance floor) and huge crowds of Chileans and gringos alike, but also because the music is different every time I go—this time, a mix of disco, funk and old-school rap. I was delighted to hear two of my new favorite songs—James Brown’s “Get Up (I Feel Like Being a) Sex Machine” and Run DMC/ Aerosmith’s “Walk this Way.” It was a fun and crazy night, and I’m really glad to have gone out three nights to three different clubs with three completely different atmospheres and types of music.
The next couple days I’ll be finishing up my midterms (finally) and getting started on my final papers (already), because I’m flying to BRAZIL on Thursday! I can’t wait for beaches, the beautiful sound of Portuguese in my ears and staying with my favorite Brazilian, Priscila!!
Monday, May 7, 2007
Updates from Week 5
It’s midterm week here, and I can’t believe I’m already five weeks into my program. I can definitely understand why people take two quarters or a year abroad—there is just too much to see and enjoy. Because of all the work I have to do, I’m enjoying a relaxing week at home hanging out with my host family and writing essays on Chilean history and the influence of the telenovela. Hopefully once I get the bulk of my work done I can see a little more of Santiago—after exploring Buenos Aires so intently I feel bad for not knowing more about my own city. Of course, I plan on at least three more trips outside the country and hopefully a few short trips within Chile.
This has also been an exciting week because everyone here in the center (and back at Stanford) found out about RA jobs for next year. The results were posted on Thursday, but on Wednesday morning I got an e-mail from the head of Residential Education that they were unable to match me up with a house (that is, my dorm preferences and the dorm’s preferences of staff members didn’t coincide in my case). He told me that I had one more chance in that FroSoCo (Freshman/Sophomore College, a specialty dorm for first and second year students that features integrated academic and social programming for residents) had an open spot and was willing to interview me. I was absolutely crushed, but figured I should go for the small chance that I could get a job with FroSoCo, even though I know very little about the house and never considered working there. I interviewed on Thursday afternoon (after everyone else found out about their results) and heard on Thursday evening that I had an offer. I couldn’t believe it! It’s hard to picture living in FroSoCo, especially because their staff are actually CAs—college assistants with combined duties of RAs and Academic Advisors—but I am really excited for next year and I already know a couple of my fellow staff members! Even though I am missing out on the rollouts, the in-house draw and the initial training this quarter, I’ve heard really great things from friends who lived there and from the adult staff so I’m looking forward to an amazing senior year. Everyone better come visit me on the edge of WEST CAMPUS, HOLLA!
(Postscript: It has come to my attention that I will be eating most of my meals next year at Ricker, the infamous peanut-free dining hall. Seeing as I can’t survive Santiago without buying out the only peanut butter in the store, I will probably have to keep a peanut-product stash in my room. Away from the allergic kids, of course.)
This has also been an exciting week because everyone here in the center (and back at Stanford) found out about RA jobs for next year. The results were posted on Thursday, but on Wednesday morning I got an e-mail from the head of Residential Education that they were unable to match me up with a house (that is, my dorm preferences and the dorm’s preferences of staff members didn’t coincide in my case). He told me that I had one more chance in that FroSoCo (Freshman/Sophomore College, a specialty dorm for first and second year students that features integrated academic and social programming for residents) had an open spot and was willing to interview me. I was absolutely crushed, but figured I should go for the small chance that I could get a job with FroSoCo, even though I know very little about the house and never considered working there. I interviewed on Thursday afternoon (after everyone else found out about their results) and heard on Thursday evening that I had an offer. I couldn’t believe it! It’s hard to picture living in FroSoCo, especially because their staff are actually CAs—college assistants with combined duties of RAs and Academic Advisors—but I am really excited for next year and I already know a couple of my fellow staff members! Even though I am missing out on the rollouts, the in-house draw and the initial training this quarter, I’ve heard really great things from friends who lived there and from the adult staff so I’m looking forward to an amazing senior year. Everyone better come visit me on the edge of WEST CAMPUS, HOLLA!
(Postscript: It has come to my attention that I will be eating most of my meals next year at Ricker, the infamous peanut-free dining hall. Seeing as I can’t survive Santiago without buying out the only peanut butter in the store, I will probably have to keep a peanut-product stash in my room. Away from the allergic kids, of course.)
The Best Weekend Ever: Sunday
Sunday was my last day in Buenos Aires and I was determined to see all the sites I had missed in the previous days. Because I had not done any decent shopping the entire trip and Buenos Aires was supposed to be the best in South America, I headed to another great shopping area near Recoleta. Unfortunately, I forgot that on Sundays nearly everything is closed in South America, even in a big city such as Buenos Aires. Literally the only things that were open were pharmacies, fast food restaurants, and the occasional café. Luckily, the Ateneo bookstore I had wanted to see was also open. El Ateneo was built into a centuries-old theater that was once a popular night spot for performances and shows. Now it is a book lover’s paradise, with the lobby, orchestra seating, and every balcony lined with bookshelves. The stage now hosts a café where customers can enjoy a book and a coffee. Even though there were security guards roaming the entire building, trying to survey the massive bookstore as best they could, many people were sitting in chairs around the bookstore reading their to-be-purchased books. I picked up a copy of Ernesto Sabato’s El Tunel, a classic of Latin American literature which I may have read in high school... but it couldn’t hurt to read it again. I sat down in a balcony chair overlooking the rest of the bookstore and had a delightful moment reading and listening to the Ray Charles CD that was playing at the time.
After leaving El Ateneo, I took the metro to the Plaza de Mayo to switch trains. (Unlike in Santiago, most of the metro entrances only access one side of the tracks, which can get a little confusing.) I spent some time listening to a concert for the Madres de la Plaza de Mayo that had been set up to commemorate 30 years of the Madres demonstrating for information about the disappeared people. I also visited the Cathedral, which was gorgeous but filled with tons of annoying tourists. I then took the metro to the Las Cañitas neighborhood, on the oldest metro line in the city (and probably the oldest in the continent). The cars were wooden, the light fixtures were simple lamps hanging from the ceilings, and the doors were entirely manual. Getting into those cars was like stepping back in time—they were almost like underground trolleys. It was very cool and even though the cars were a little more rickety and exposed it didn’t feel unsafe at all. I rode for several stops outside of the city center and walked to Las Violetas café, another old café like Tortoni that was filled with older people and families enjoying a Sunday afternoon snack. The café was very elegant, with beautiful mirrors and stained glass, as well as smartly-dressed waiters. I ordered a hot chocolate, which came with a tiny pastry and a glass of water. I took in the people around me—an old couple with their grandchildren, a middle-aged woman studying Spanish from what looked just like my freshman year textbook, and the women working in the adjoining candy shop and bakery—while trying to digest my weekend and all the things I had done.
Even after hot chocolate I was in dire need of a nap, so I took the metro back to the hostel and got a few hours of sleep before one final night on the town. Most of our group went out to dinner at Siga La Vaca (“Follow the Cow”), a giant (tourist trap!) restaurant that serves a massive all-you-can-eat buffet for the low price of 37 pesos (12 dollars). Each guest gets a bottle of wine, as much bread and French fries as they can eat, and their pick of foods from two huge salad bars and grilling stations serving every type of beef and chicken imaginable. I’m not a huge meat fan, so I could only have a few bites while marveling at my friends who piled their plates again and again with steaks, ribs, sausages, kebabs, and more. But the food was great and we all left filled up for a relaxing night. I went out pretty early to check out the Port one last time. Several bridges cross from downtown to the edge of the Bay, and one of them is a duplicate of the Santiago Calatrava bridge back in Milwaukee. I was really excited about this but of course none of my Stanford friends understood my love for this bridge. After one last long night at Puerto Madero checking out the bars and clubs, it was time to head back to Santiago. Needless to say, we all secretly wished that we were studying abroad in Buenos Aires instead of the metropolitan to the West of the continent… but I know I have to go back and see just a few more things next time.
After leaving El Ateneo, I took the metro to the Plaza de Mayo to switch trains. (Unlike in Santiago, most of the metro entrances only access one side of the tracks, which can get a little confusing.) I spent some time listening to a concert for the Madres de la Plaza de Mayo that had been set up to commemorate 30 years of the Madres demonstrating for information about the disappeared people. I also visited the Cathedral, which was gorgeous but filled with tons of annoying tourists. I then took the metro to the Las Cañitas neighborhood, on the oldest metro line in the city (and probably the oldest in the continent). The cars were wooden, the light fixtures were simple lamps hanging from the ceilings, and the doors were entirely manual. Getting into those cars was like stepping back in time—they were almost like underground trolleys. It was very cool and even though the cars were a little more rickety and exposed it didn’t feel unsafe at all. I rode for several stops outside of the city center and walked to Las Violetas café, another old café like Tortoni that was filled with older people and families enjoying a Sunday afternoon snack. The café was very elegant, with beautiful mirrors and stained glass, as well as smartly-dressed waiters. I ordered a hot chocolate, which came with a tiny pastry and a glass of water. I took in the people around me—an old couple with their grandchildren, a middle-aged woman studying Spanish from what looked just like my freshman year textbook, and the women working in the adjoining candy shop and bakery—while trying to digest my weekend and all the things I had done.
Even after hot chocolate I was in dire need of a nap, so I took the metro back to the hostel and got a few hours of sleep before one final night on the town. Most of our group went out to dinner at Siga La Vaca (“Follow the Cow”), a giant (tourist trap!) restaurant that serves a massive all-you-can-eat buffet for the low price of 37 pesos (12 dollars). Each guest gets a bottle of wine, as much bread and French fries as they can eat, and their pick of foods from two huge salad bars and grilling stations serving every type of beef and chicken imaginable. I’m not a huge meat fan, so I could only have a few bites while marveling at my friends who piled their plates again and again with steaks, ribs, sausages, kebabs, and more. But the food was great and we all left filled up for a relaxing night. I went out pretty early to check out the Port one last time. Several bridges cross from downtown to the edge of the Bay, and one of them is a duplicate of the Santiago Calatrava bridge back in Milwaukee. I was really excited about this but of course none of my Stanford friends understood my love for this bridge. After one last long night at Puerto Madero checking out the bars and clubs, it was time to head back to Santiago. Needless to say, we all secretly wished that we were studying abroad in Buenos Aires instead of the metropolitan to the West of the continent… but I know I have to go back and see just a few more things next time.
The Best Weekend Ever: Saturday
On Saturday I spent most of the day in Recoleta, a gorgeous and slightly upscale neighborhood near the city center. My first destination was the Recoleta cemetery, a huge city of tombs where the city’s rich and famous are buried. On the way there from the hostel (about a twenty minute walk), I saw lots of restaurants, boutiques and (regrettably) a Hard Rock Café. The cemetery is situated in the middle of a large grassy park, where an artisan fair had been set up for the weekend in dozens of little tent-booths.
The cemetery itself was one of the most incredible things I have ever seen. It is a veritable city of tombs, all decorated with elaborate façades and huge statues of angels or the person who resides inside. It is surrounded by high walls, and the tombs stretch as far as the eye can see in any direction, with cupolas and towers each a story high. As soon as I stepped into the cemetery, I was completely wrapped up in all of the gorgeous tombs and the sheer magnitude of it all. Most of the tombs were about the size of a bathroom, and many had glass doors that revealed the caskets still inside, or stairs leading down to more graves underground. The tombs ranged from simple to elaborate decoration, in all different architectural styles, from the mid-1800s until the late 20th century. There were a few specific tombs I had set out to see, and luckily the cemetery had a giant map that identified the location of the more famous tombs in its endless streets. The Paz family tomb had three separate statues of angels mourning from all sides of the tomb, built for one of the richest families in Buenos Aires’ history. I also got to see Evita’s tomb, which I learned is incredibly special because her body was missing for several decades after her death but now is finally laid to rest. My favorite tomb was that of Rufina Cambaceres, a young woman who was buried alive (apparently after some time in a coma). When workers heard screams and pounding noises coming from her tomb, they opened it up, but too late, seeing scratches on her face and the lid of the coffin. After this terrible event, Rufina’s mother built an elaborate tomb in her honor. At the front of the tomb stands the figure of Rufina herself, pulling on the handle to open the door but taking one last look at the world before she enters. It was so creepy and beautiful, and looking into the story of her death only made it more interesting.
It was hard to tear myself away from the cemetery but some other Stanford girls and I spent some time checking out the artisan fair before walking to the nearby MALBA (Museo de Arte Latinoamericano de Buenos Aires) museum. We crossed a curvy footbridge over the Avenida del Libertador to a giant stone building that we assumed was the museum. Once inside, we knew it was not the museum, but rather the university building for political science and law. On Friday I had seen an identical building on the other side of the city which housed the sciences and engineering classes. On the way to the real museum we also passed a park with a beautiful silver sculpture of a flower. My friend told us that the flower’s giant metallic petals opened during the day and closed at night. Sure enough, when we returned on our way to go clubbing later that night, we saw that the flower had closed.
The MALBA museum was another one of my favorite experiences of the weekend. We got to see a general exhibit of Latin American art which spanned several decades and featured famous works such as a self-portrait of Frida Kahlo. My favorite painting was “Los Viudos” by Botero, who is famous for his rotund figures. “Los Viudos” or “The Widowers” is a family portrait without a mother, who is represented by a photograph on a table. Each family member was painted with Botero’s signature style, with large, round bodies and adult faces. I especially liked how Botero painted several tiny tears on each of the family members’ faces, which looked real and stood out from the rest of the painting. We also got to see two temporary exhibits at MALBA. One was a progression through the works of Brazilian painter Volpi, famous for his “Banderitos” (little flags) series. The other was an exhibit of David LaChapelle photographs and music videos. I am fascinated with David LaChapelle’s celebrity portraits, advertising campaigns and live shows (he designed the Elton John show I saw in Las Vegas), so it was incredible to see his over-the-top style in full-size photographs.
We were pretty wiped out after the museum, so we enjoyed a delicious lunch at the MALBA museum café. I was so excited to have caprese salad and mushroom risotto, especially because it was quite inexpensive. The exchange rate really did us well, and we got a nice break from the now ordinary Chilean foods. After MALBA we decided to walk to the Evita Museum, clear across the city’s biggest park in another neighborhood. It was great to be able to see the park, which was of course filled with porteños (Buenos Aires citizens) enjoying the sunshine in every way possible—renting boats, riding bikes, riding in carriages, rollerblading, and taking impromptu exercise dance classes. We, of course, had to join in the dancing for just a few minutes. The park also houses the botanical gardens, zoo and a Japanese garden, which we were able to catch a quick glimpse of. On the way to the Evita Perón museum (which was a lot harder to find than we thought), we also passed the US Embassy and the Plaza Italia, like most plazas decorated with an enormous statue in the middle of a busy intersection. The Evita museum was very interesting. The exhibits were laid out in an old mansion, and as we walked through the rooms we learned about different stages of her life. We got to see a lot of her personal effects, including her gorgeous dresses and accessories, as well as propaganda materials from the Peronista party, which I found fascinating. At the end of the exhibit we watched a video of her funeral and heard about the saga of finding her body and returning it to her family and to Argentina.
We took the subway back to the hostel (much older and much less crowded than in Santiago) and I took a quick nap before dinner. A few of us went back to San Telmo to an old pizza parlor, where we enjoyed some excellent pizza and pasta. After dinner we planned out our night, determined to have a proper night out without staying in the hostel until the clubs opened. We checked out a couple of bars in the Las Cañitas neighborhood, settling on Jackie O, which blared british pop music videos (my favorite) and was decorated with pictures of Jackie herself, which didn’t really fit in with the noisy, crowded bar. After enjoying drinks and music there for a while, we headed to Opera Bay, one of Buenos Aires’ biggest and most beautiful clubs. Opera Bay is situated right across the bridge that leads to the Madero Port, and designed after the Sydney Opera House’s distinct roof. Inside the club is huge and modern, with large outdoor decks for taking in some fresh air. The bar was also surrounded by dozens of comfortable couches for those who wanted to take a break from dancing. Most of the hostel was also at the club, so I danced with a group of Stanford kids as well as some Brazilians and Israelis I had met earlier that day. We ended up staying out until 8am and I saw a beautiful sunrise over the city as I was returning to the hostel.
The cemetery itself was one of the most incredible things I have ever seen. It is a veritable city of tombs, all decorated with elaborate façades and huge statues of angels or the person who resides inside. It is surrounded by high walls, and the tombs stretch as far as the eye can see in any direction, with cupolas and towers each a story high. As soon as I stepped into the cemetery, I was completely wrapped up in all of the gorgeous tombs and the sheer magnitude of it all. Most of the tombs were about the size of a bathroom, and many had glass doors that revealed the caskets still inside, or stairs leading down to more graves underground. The tombs ranged from simple to elaborate decoration, in all different architectural styles, from the mid-1800s until the late 20th century. There were a few specific tombs I had set out to see, and luckily the cemetery had a giant map that identified the location of the more famous tombs in its endless streets. The Paz family tomb had three separate statues of angels mourning from all sides of the tomb, built for one of the richest families in Buenos Aires’ history. I also got to see Evita’s tomb, which I learned is incredibly special because her body was missing for several decades after her death but now is finally laid to rest. My favorite tomb was that of Rufina Cambaceres, a young woman who was buried alive (apparently after some time in a coma). When workers heard screams and pounding noises coming from her tomb, they opened it up, but too late, seeing scratches on her face and the lid of the coffin. After this terrible event, Rufina’s mother built an elaborate tomb in her honor. At the front of the tomb stands the figure of Rufina herself, pulling on the handle to open the door but taking one last look at the world before she enters. It was so creepy and beautiful, and looking into the story of her death only made it more interesting.
It was hard to tear myself away from the cemetery but some other Stanford girls and I spent some time checking out the artisan fair before walking to the nearby MALBA (Museo de Arte Latinoamericano de Buenos Aires) museum. We crossed a curvy footbridge over the Avenida del Libertador to a giant stone building that we assumed was the museum. Once inside, we knew it was not the museum, but rather the university building for political science and law. On Friday I had seen an identical building on the other side of the city which housed the sciences and engineering classes. On the way to the real museum we also passed a park with a beautiful silver sculpture of a flower. My friend told us that the flower’s giant metallic petals opened during the day and closed at night. Sure enough, when we returned on our way to go clubbing later that night, we saw that the flower had closed.
The MALBA museum was another one of my favorite experiences of the weekend. We got to see a general exhibit of Latin American art which spanned several decades and featured famous works such as a self-portrait of Frida Kahlo. My favorite painting was “Los Viudos” by Botero, who is famous for his rotund figures. “Los Viudos” or “The Widowers” is a family portrait without a mother, who is represented by a photograph on a table. Each family member was painted with Botero’s signature style, with large, round bodies and adult faces. I especially liked how Botero painted several tiny tears on each of the family members’ faces, which looked real and stood out from the rest of the painting. We also got to see two temporary exhibits at MALBA. One was a progression through the works of Brazilian painter Volpi, famous for his “Banderitos” (little flags) series. The other was an exhibit of David LaChapelle photographs and music videos. I am fascinated with David LaChapelle’s celebrity portraits, advertising campaigns and live shows (he designed the Elton John show I saw in Las Vegas), so it was incredible to see his over-the-top style in full-size photographs.
We were pretty wiped out after the museum, so we enjoyed a delicious lunch at the MALBA museum café. I was so excited to have caprese salad and mushroom risotto, especially because it was quite inexpensive. The exchange rate really did us well, and we got a nice break from the now ordinary Chilean foods. After MALBA we decided to walk to the Evita Museum, clear across the city’s biggest park in another neighborhood. It was great to be able to see the park, which was of course filled with porteños (Buenos Aires citizens) enjoying the sunshine in every way possible—renting boats, riding bikes, riding in carriages, rollerblading, and taking impromptu exercise dance classes. We, of course, had to join in the dancing for just a few minutes. The park also houses the botanical gardens, zoo and a Japanese garden, which we were able to catch a quick glimpse of. On the way to the Evita Perón museum (which was a lot harder to find than we thought), we also passed the US Embassy and the Plaza Italia, like most plazas decorated with an enormous statue in the middle of a busy intersection. The Evita museum was very interesting. The exhibits were laid out in an old mansion, and as we walked through the rooms we learned about different stages of her life. We got to see a lot of her personal effects, including her gorgeous dresses and accessories, as well as propaganda materials from the Peronista party, which I found fascinating. At the end of the exhibit we watched a video of her funeral and heard about the saga of finding her body and returning it to her family and to Argentina.
We took the subway back to the hostel (much older and much less crowded than in Santiago) and I took a quick nap before dinner. A few of us went back to San Telmo to an old pizza parlor, where we enjoyed some excellent pizza and pasta. After dinner we planned out our night, determined to have a proper night out without staying in the hostel until the clubs opened. We checked out a couple of bars in the Las Cañitas neighborhood, settling on Jackie O, which blared british pop music videos (my favorite) and was decorated with pictures of Jackie herself, which didn’t really fit in with the noisy, crowded bar. After enjoying drinks and music there for a while, we headed to Opera Bay, one of Buenos Aires’ biggest and most beautiful clubs. Opera Bay is situated right across the bridge that leads to the Madero Port, and designed after the Sydney Opera House’s distinct roof. Inside the club is huge and modern, with large outdoor decks for taking in some fresh air. The bar was also surrounded by dozens of comfortable couches for those who wanted to take a break from dancing. Most of the hostel was also at the club, so I danced with a group of Stanford kids as well as some Brazilians and Israelis I had met earlier that day. We ended up staying out until 8am and I saw a beautiful sunrise over the city as I was returning to the hostel.
The Best Weekend Ever: Friday
On Friday I set out to do some shopping and see some sights in the city center. First I enjoyed a delicious ham and cheese quiche in a tiny café near the hostel. Then I made my way to Avenida Florida, which supposedly had the best shopping close to the hostel. The quantity was great, with block by pedestrian block stretching as far as the eye could see with shops and malls of different sizes, but unfortunately the quality was limited to either very cheap or ridiculously upscale, in the case of the misplaced Galería Pacífico. I left the avenida empty handed, but got to see the beautiful and green Plaza San Martin on one end of the street as well as the Plaza de Mayo on the other end. I walked around the Plaza de Mayo for a long time, soaking up the sunshine and taking pictures of the beautiful Casa Rosada (presidential house). Unfortunately I missed the Madres of the Plaza de Mayo, who gather every Thursday to protest the disappearance of friends and family members during the Dirty War in the 1970s. Still, the Plaza was filled with reminders of their continued presence—banners, graffiti and their symbol of a kerchief covering the pavement. I wasn’t able to visit the Casa Rosada Museum due to construction around the building, but I did get an excellent view of Plaza Colón behind the Casa Rosada, featuring a towering statue of Christopher Columbus.
In the afternoon I walked several blocks from the city center to San Telmo, an older neighborhood with narrow, cobblestone streets and dozens of antique shops. I first visited the Zanjon de Granados, an old estate house with access to the city’s underground ruins. I missed the last tour by a half hour, but I was happy to explore the neighborhood some more. I came across an old church, which turned out to be the Convento San Domingo. The courtyard had a huge statue commemorating the bicentennial of a famous school in the city, and the outer walls of the church were lined with plaques honoring the building and its history (built in the late 18th century). The church was empty save for a few quiet tourists, and I was happy to admire the statues of saints in silence. Suddenly, someone started playing the organ for just a short while, which gave me chills and made me feel so lucky to have happened upon this church at that very moment.
I spent another hour or so wandering the streets of San Telmo, looking into antiques shops and getting some delicious ice cream from a little shop. Some of the antiques stores were incredibly upscale, displaying only the most elaborate art and furniture, while others seemed more like personal displays of random stuff accumulated throughout the years. I really enjoyed looking at one shop that sold only old books, movie posters and postcards from around the world. Before taking a taxi back to the hostel, I also saw the museum of modern art and film, which was closed, and the Plaza Evita Perón, a small grassy space with a huge statue of people pulling a giant boulder together.
After several hours of walking around, I spent the early evening at the hostel napping and enjoying a quick dinner, preparing for another long night out. We met up with three friends, two British girls and an Argentine girl, and spent several hours playing games and telling stories with them at the hostel. Unfortunately, our group spent about an hour figuring out where to go for the night, so by the time we decided at 3am I was ready to go to bed instead of going out.
In the afternoon I walked several blocks from the city center to San Telmo, an older neighborhood with narrow, cobblestone streets and dozens of antique shops. I first visited the Zanjon de Granados, an old estate house with access to the city’s underground ruins. I missed the last tour by a half hour, but I was happy to explore the neighborhood some more. I came across an old church, which turned out to be the Convento San Domingo. The courtyard had a huge statue commemorating the bicentennial of a famous school in the city, and the outer walls of the church were lined with plaques honoring the building and its history (built in the late 18th century). The church was empty save for a few quiet tourists, and I was happy to admire the statues of saints in silence. Suddenly, someone started playing the organ for just a short while, which gave me chills and made me feel so lucky to have happened upon this church at that very moment.
I spent another hour or so wandering the streets of San Telmo, looking into antiques shops and getting some delicious ice cream from a little shop. Some of the antiques stores were incredibly upscale, displaying only the most elaborate art and furniture, while others seemed more like personal displays of random stuff accumulated throughout the years. I really enjoyed looking at one shop that sold only old books, movie posters and postcards from around the world. Before taking a taxi back to the hostel, I also saw the museum of modern art and film, which was closed, and the Plaza Evita Perón, a small grassy space with a huge statue of people pulling a giant boulder together.
After several hours of walking around, I spent the early evening at the hostel napping and enjoying a quick dinner, preparing for another long night out. We met up with three friends, two British girls and an Argentine girl, and spent several hours playing games and telling stories with them at the hostel. Unfortunately, our group spent about an hour figuring out where to go for the night, so by the time we decided at 3am I was ready to go to bed instead of going out.
The Best Weekend Ever: Thursday
The past week has been filled with midterms, long days at the center doing research broken up by quick trips to the gym, and catching up on sleep. Nothing too exciting, but that’s because two weekends ago I had the best weekend of my life in Buenos Aires. I packed my days with tons of unique new experiences and everything I did was incredible. I spent a lot of money and I didn’t get a lot of sleep, but I’m already planning another trip back in June because I had such an amazing time.
I flew into the city on Thursday as soon as I finished class in the morning. Crossing the Andes by plane was beautiful—ruined only slightly by the man sitting next to me who insisted on leaning over me and videotaping the entire view. The cab ride from the airport to my hostel in the city center took about thirty minutes, and for a while it seemed like the city would never appear out of the suburban landscape. Finally, the apartment complexes rose up, the buildings got more dense, and I saw old cathedrals out of my window. As we drove up Avenida 9 de Julio (Argentine independence day), I saw the city on both sides of me with the wide boulevard stretching out in front of me as the sun began to set. I stayed at a hostel right near the famous Obelisk, a complicated intersection that we were forced to stop at for a while. I marveled at the obelisk itself and the street performers on stilts promoting safety week from the crosswalks. We turned onto Avenida Corrientes, where my hostel was located, and it felt like New York City—lined with theaters, restaurants and neon signs. The hostel was located inside an old apartment building with narrow winding marble staircases and an ancient, slow elevator. I settled into my room, laid out with three bunk beds which I shared with five other students from around the world.
After meeting three kids from Ireland and a girl from Argentina, I headed out to find dinner and a tango show. We ended up going to Café Tortoni, built in the 19th century and known for its history as a literary café where Borges, Storni and other great writers used to sit and enjoy a cup of coffee. We were led into the brick-walled basement of the café for a tango show, which ended up being well worth fifty pesos (about 17 US dollars). The show featured some incredible tango dancing at different tempos, as well as a little bit of theater, amazing drumming and some traditional Argentine ballads. The band, made up of a piano, violin, string bass, and accordion, was extremely talented and even did a few numbers alone. After the show, we went upstairs to have a coffee and take in the café a little more, which was decorated with drawings and photographs of its glory days. Of course, there were mostly tourists in the café that night, but I was happy to know that I was sitting in the same place that Borges once frequented.
We returned to the hostel around 11:30pm, leaving us more than three hours to get ready for the clubs (nothing opens or gets going until 2 or 3 am in Buenos Aries, or Argentina as a whole, especially not on the weekends). We relaxed in the hostel for a while, met some of the other guests, and then took a taxi to a massive club that had 2 levels and a disco ball shaped like a camel, for some reason. The club was packed and we were continually showered with confetti, silly string and foam throughout the night. All in all, we had a lot of fun and without even realizing it most of our group stayed out until 6am.
I flew into the city on Thursday as soon as I finished class in the morning. Crossing the Andes by plane was beautiful—ruined only slightly by the man sitting next to me who insisted on leaning over me and videotaping the entire view. The cab ride from the airport to my hostel in the city center took about thirty minutes, and for a while it seemed like the city would never appear out of the suburban landscape. Finally, the apartment complexes rose up, the buildings got more dense, and I saw old cathedrals out of my window. As we drove up Avenida 9 de Julio (Argentine independence day), I saw the city on both sides of me with the wide boulevard stretching out in front of me as the sun began to set. I stayed at a hostel right near the famous Obelisk, a complicated intersection that we were forced to stop at for a while. I marveled at the obelisk itself and the street performers on stilts promoting safety week from the crosswalks. We turned onto Avenida Corrientes, where my hostel was located, and it felt like New York City—lined with theaters, restaurants and neon signs. The hostel was located inside an old apartment building with narrow winding marble staircases and an ancient, slow elevator. I settled into my room, laid out with three bunk beds which I shared with five other students from around the world.
After meeting three kids from Ireland and a girl from Argentina, I headed out to find dinner and a tango show. We ended up going to Café Tortoni, built in the 19th century and known for its history as a literary café where Borges, Storni and other great writers used to sit and enjoy a cup of coffee. We were led into the brick-walled basement of the café for a tango show, which ended up being well worth fifty pesos (about 17 US dollars). The show featured some incredible tango dancing at different tempos, as well as a little bit of theater, amazing drumming and some traditional Argentine ballads. The band, made up of a piano, violin, string bass, and accordion, was extremely talented and even did a few numbers alone. After the show, we went upstairs to have a coffee and take in the café a little more, which was decorated with drawings and photographs of its glory days. Of course, there were mostly tourists in the café that night, but I was happy to know that I was sitting in the same place that Borges once frequented.
We returned to the hostel around 11:30pm, leaving us more than three hours to get ready for the clubs (nothing opens or gets going until 2 or 3 am in Buenos Aries, or Argentina as a whole, especially not on the weekends). We relaxed in the hostel for a while, met some of the other guests, and then took a taxi to a massive club that had 2 levels and a disco ball shaped like a camel, for some reason. The club was packed and we were continually showered with confetti, silly string and foam throughout the night. All in all, we had a lot of fun and without even realizing it most of our group stayed out until 6am.
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