Part 2: La Boca

The area of Buenos Aires called La Boca used to be a portside immigrant (meaning Italian) slum. Locals would beg sailors for leftover marine paint to cover their shanties; hence, the buildings of la Boca are a riot of color and one of the most picturesque places anywhere.

Part 2: Loving the Melody

San Telmo is one of the oldest and best preserved Italian neighborhoods in Buenos Aires. Filled with outdoor cafes, antique shops, artisan booths and dance clubs, it feels like an ongoing state fair. Musicians, actors and tango dancers entertain crowds on the cobblestone street for pennies. San Telmo is where Argentina’s artists live, create and work.

Italians started coming here at the end of the 18th century and have never stopped. A visit to San Telmo is like stepping back into old Italy. The Spanish spoken here in Buenos Aires carries a beautiful harmonious Italian lilt..speakers hang onto syllables like a drowning man hangs on to a lifesaver. Spanish is literally almost sung here, and I’m loving the melody.

Part 2: Everything Familiar and Friendly

 

“Travel is accelerated learning.”
--Rick Steves

The Argentine educational day, like most systems worldwide, begins at the civilized hour of 9AM, and ends at the even more civilized hour of 1PM, allowing both student and teacher plenty of time to aprovechar el dia, or take advantage of the rest of the day. It is customary after school to enjoy almuerzo, lunch, the biggest meal of the day, and then do lo que sea, whatever, in the afternoon. (Siestas are not common here in the city.) We have a break or recreo midway through at 11AM for coffee and medialunas, croissants.

The school is designed for adults who want to learn Spanish, and most of the students are in their 20’s. Classes start anew every Monday, (with the exception of the beginners), so after taking a placement test, a person can simply jump right in to whatever level is most appropriate. Classes are purposely small, so everyone gets lots of chances to practice and very few to slack off. For example, this week my class has five students—two from Italy, one from Brazil and one other Americana, from Arizona, here on a photography internship. Next week the dynamic will change as the Italians are leaving and our Brasiliena goes home for a week of holiday.

One of the most fascinating aspects of this school is that most people are here for much, much longer than I; in fact my six weeks on the continent is a short stay compared to what most others are doing-most are here for six months or longer.

The reason for learning Spanish is as varied as the person learning it; My Arizona classmate Wren is here on a photography internship; she bought a one-way ticket to Argentina. Another, Todd, just in from Hong Kong, works for the security division of Wal-Mart; after his six weeks here, he’ll be moving with his family to work in Costa Rica for two years and then on to Indonesia. Chloe, from Greece, just came from six months of English study in Australia and is here to learn Spanish for the same amount of time simply because she loves learning languages; she’s thinking of moving on to Italy to pick up Italian next; David, the engineering student from Hamburg, Germany, is giving up his three month summer break from his University (and his girlfriend) beacuse it will help him land a better job. Unbelievably, there’s even another person here from the other side of FoldintheMap—each and every one of them giving up everything and everyone that is familiar and friendly for their own reasons to pursue study of the language.

Part 2: Kiss and Telo

Today in Buenos Aires I saw a car driving around pulling a trailer with a big sign advertising something called a Telo. Only $40 pesos for 2 hours of fun! (less than $12 US) Curious, I asked my Brazilian friends from school what it was and, howling, they offered to take me there!

One of the racier and more unusual discoveries here in Buenos Aires is the Telo. From “Albergue Transitorio”, or “temporary lodging”, a Telo is a 'pay by the hour' hotel.

Before coming here, I'd only seen places like these on really bad late night TV movies which looked pretty gross and were associated with prostitution. But here, in a place where 'kids' often live at home until they're married or living with their partners, the idea of a Telo is widely accepted. This can mean a 30+ year old 'kid' living with the parents and dating a possible Mr./Mrs. “Right” might need a bit of privacy. So they go to the Telo (love hotel) for an amorous encounter!

Even the most basic rooms have mirrored ceilings, and huuuge beds that resemble adult trampolines..A packet of condoms, bearing the Telo’s logo and extolling the virtues of safe sex, lies next to the bed, which is covered with a fuzzy pink throw that matches the cotton candy pink upholstery on the two chairs and the shag carpet. I’m starting to feel like I’ve been transported to Marsha Brady’s bedroom in the 1970’s. But Marsha Marsha Marsha never set foot in one of these. At least not on the Brady Bunch.

My Brazilian friends start jumping on the bed; for five pesos it vibrates. “You HAF to see DIS!” they cackle, switching on the TV remote. Porn. Every channel. Porn and more porn. A regular porn fest. Except, incomprehensibly, for one channel devoted entirely to professional soccer.

Room service is delivered by a two-door dumbwaiter so guests never have to disturbed by the intrusion of the help. Part of the appeal, I’m told, is the rabid guarding of one’s privacy. I’m guessing the desk clerks are used to seeing everything here. They didn’t even blink when five of us (four women one man) walked in together--they just gave us the largest room in the place and a packet of towels.

If it all sounds a litle seedy, it is, but that’s all part of the fun. Telos are to Argentina what the back seat of cars are to North Americans-except cleaner.

So after looking around the place, how did the five of us spend our golden two hours in the Telo?

We ordered beers from room service and watched the soccer match.

Part 2: Passion and Homesickness

Tango started in the slums of Buenos Aires in the 19th century when homesick soldiers, sailors and immigrants crowded into the bars and brothels, sharing the loneliness of exiles, mixing their national music to create the haunting tango sound.

Loneliness, despair, jealousy and homesickness--all are themes of Tango, considered the national music of Argentina. The accompanying dance, passionate, flamboyant and erotic, is said to distill and express the melancholy soul of Argentina. Tonight, it certainly is expressing mine.

Part 2: Lead me into Temptation

Steak for supper. Steak for lunch. And for supper, again. and again. Breakfast? Why not? Bistec, charred and crusty outside, perfectly pink inside, oozing its wonderful juices. At home, I’m not much of a meat-eater; I do the healthy, semi-veggie thing, greens and grains, indulging in a steak only once every few months or so. However, since arriving in Buenos Aires, I’ve been transformed like a werewolf under a full moon into a ravenous, snarling carnivore. I know a steady diet of beef is not in my best interest, but I’ve been seduced into the temptation of perfectly grilled bife.

Argentinians prepare meat in a very uncomplicated but delicious manner; every cut of beef imaginable (and some that aren’t) is laid over a wrought iron grill, a
Parilla, on top of smoldering wooden logs and cooked slowly to beefy perfection-- all that used to top it off is some garlicky chimichurri sauce.

Attending an asado is a crash course in South American culture; men prepare and cook the meat, while women prepare side dishes-although most Argentinians will scoff at the idea of accompanying one’s meat with something as silly as bread or salad--those just get in the way of enjoying one’s bife--although a side dish intended to enhance the bife is acceptable.

And of course, a perfectly prepared bife must be accompanied with a perfect Malbec--the world renowed deep red wine that has earned Argentina respect as one of the premier wine countries on the planet.

Vegetarian? maybe after I get home..

Part 2: Arrival in Argentina

Input: “The information is provided for students to gain the necessary knowledge”--Madeline Hunter

I have arrived in Buenos Aires, a day late-gracias to a Chilean volcano closing the airport and a little worse for the wear after 24 hours in the air.

I’m sharing a charming three bedroom apartment in a lovely neighborhood with the owner and my host mom, Haydee, (Heidi), a retired widowed elementary school teacher with patience as big as this city of seven million people. Haydee lives alone, but all of her four children live nearby and talk to her either in person or on the phone every day. We live in a very secure building on the third floor of a ten story building with a charming patio that I can imagine would be lovely in the summer.
Like most Portenos, Haydee lives in an apartment that by our standards would be small, but by Buenos Aires’ would be big. I have my own room at the end of the hall right next to the bath. Once she showed me that the light switches are side to side rather than up and down, and that the button to flush the stool is on the wall behind the device, I was relieved of a few initial awkward moments.
She provides me with two meals a day, breakfast and cena (supper), which normally isn’t until 9PM or later. Yesterday when I arrived, it was almost 2:00-- lunchtime--the main meal of the day. Haydee graciously invited me to share almuerzo after I got settled in. For each course she prepared, she took away our dishes and served the next course on a clean plate. First we had hard boiled eggs with tuna, then a shredded carrot and tomato salad, followed by a mountain of pasta with a light marinara sauce, then fresh fruit—all on a plate and always eaten with a knife and fork. If my American style of using a knife and fork was strange to them, they tactfully pretended not to notice. Tonight, boiled Brussels sprouts with baked zapallito, kind of like stuffed green peppers. I can’t wait! Here's Haydee in her cocina with zapallitos: