🇦🇷 Buenos Aires & Caminito - 03.29.23

“There was nowhere to go but everywhere, so just keep on rolling under the stars.” - Jack Kerouac, en el camino

Stardate 76673.3 - final log of explorations of Buenos Aires. I stayed in the city the entire time… which means I’ll need to come back to visit the nature things Argentina has to offer.

It’s unique in a way that it’s so close to what I know but different enough. Like being in an episode of Star Trek… the old Gen X version… with Kirk… and they visit a class M planet, and in a parallelism paradigm there’s a civilization that is technologically in the 21st century… but the people speak a little different, look a little different, and they have and don’t have some of the same things. You can walk amongst them… and only occasionally do you get pegged that you’re from another planet.

Example…. My friend alerted me that there was a hockey store in the neighborhood and I was all like “hells yesh!!!” Nope… It’s field hockey… not ice hockey! They have tiny sticks and run about, hunched over in the grass. That is not Earth hockey! There’s no ice hockey here! Wha happening?!?! You are on another planet señor! And now I can’t live here… for that reason alone.

The “porteños” of Buenos Aires speak an unusual version of spanish. The double “ll” and “y” are pronounced with a “shhhh.” And an “s” that proceeds a consonant is only aspirated. Yup… breathing sounds. And slang, unique phrases, idioms… AND an Italian type rhythm and accent… and yup… I can’t understand shit they say. “¿Shhho momissho co-(aspiration)tanashhoño?”

Me: deer in headlights

“There was nowhere to go but everywhere, so just keep on rolling under the stars.”

- Jack Kerouac, en el camino

Stardate 76673.3 - final log of explorations of Buenos Aires. I stayed in the city the entire time… which means I’ll need to come back to visit the nature things Argentina has to offer.

It’s unique in a way that it’s so close to what I know but different enough. Like being in an episode of Star Trek… the old Gen X version… with Kirk… and they visit a class M planet, and in a parallelism paradigm there’s a civilization that is technologically in the 21st century… but the people speak a little different, look a little different, and they have and don’t have some of the same things. You can walk amongst them… and only occasionally do you get pegged that you’re from another planet.

Example…. My friend alerted me that there was a hockey store in the neighborhood and I was all like “hells yesh!!!” Nope… It’s field hockey… not ice hockey! They have tiny sticks and run about, hunched over in the grass. That is not Earth hockey! There’s no ice hockey here! Wha happening?!?! You are on another planet señor! And now I can’t live here… for that reason alone.

The “porteños” of Buenos Aires speak an unusual version of spanish. The double “ll” and “y” are pronounced with a “shhhh.” And an “s” that proceeds a consonant is only aspirated. Yup… breathing sounds. And slang, unique phrases, idioms… AND an Italian type rhythm and accent… and yup… I can’t understand shit they say. “¿Shhho momissho co-(aspiration)tanashhoño?”

Me: deer in headlights

I could not get oriented in this place. I thought I knew what direction I was going and was perpetually confused looking at google maps convinced that it was changing ordinal directions daily… something to do with being all upside down in the Southern Hemisphere is my scientific conclusion.

Anybloop, they are a pretty nice bunch of folks with the occasional unpleasant person making a crunchy face. They love their soccer and World Cup win… and 1 out of 10 dudes sport a haircut of soccer hero, Messi. Which looks like a Beavis & Butthead cut. Seriously… I needed a haircut but was terrified I would walk out with one.

There’s a Gen X population that dig on body art. Lots of tattoos and they walk with a particular gen X vibe. I like. I understand. We rock. The Casbah!

Tango dancing is a thing here. I have short Scottish legs… not happening.

And I couldn’t find a kombucha here to save my life. I thought it may be the way I was asking for it… but no… I scoured all versions of stores… organic to big groceries. Nada tostada.

Visits in the working class, now tourist “Caminito” neighborhood. * Argentine artist Benito Quinquela Martín who lived nearby, painstakingly prepared the walls facing the abandoned street, applying pastel colors (1960)* it’s very cool and there’s a few museums in the area and ten tons of street art.

I had read that you should be cautious and not wander out of the tourist area and into the working class neighborhood. I wandered… I came from a working class hood… I find it more boring than dangerous. Lots of TVs blaring with sports ball games and dudes standing around clutching cheap beer. Yawn. Try wandering into the ‘Tenderloin’ in San Francisco without having a slight to serious concern for your safety… and without contracting typhoid while doing it. #saidwithlove #colleen

A Sunday stroll through the San Telmo Fair and Market. It just went on forever. I tapped out after an hour.

A “Remembrance Day” protest… 30,000 people went missing 1976-84. There are memorial plaques throughout the city in the places they were last known to walk.

Their currency is unstable and I walked around with large piles of it that was possibly worth $20-150. I could never figure out the exchange rate. I got some black market exchange for $100US bills (that are desired) and felt like Scrooge Mc Duck… “here’s 37,000 Argentinian Pesos.”

The last site was the El Ateneo Grand Splendid book store. Amazing!! I asked the book store gal if they had a Spanish version of Kerouac’s “Dharma Bums”… and for the record folks… book store people are the same everywhere! Bookish looks and very matter of fact! Look it up, no we don’t have it, point out where it would be if they had it and next… I said, NEXT!!!! I found “On the Road” in Spanish… I now own it. I am extra happy about it.

One last breaky here and I head off to the airport and land in Santa Cruz de La Sierra, Bolivia this evening. I don’t officially have a plane ticket back to the US yet… but I think I’m missing some places and people and will break away to figure that out now.

Anybloop, they are a pretty nice bunch of folks with the occasional unpleasant person making a crunchy face. They love their soccer and World Cup win… and 1 out of 10 dudes sport a haircut of soccer hero, Messi. Which looks like a Beavis & Butthead cut. Seriously… I needed a haircut but was terrified I would walk out with one.

There’s a Gen X population that dig on body art. Lots of tattoos and they walk with a particular gen X vibe. I like. I understand. We rock. The Casbah!

Tango dancing is a thing here. I have short Scottish legs… not happening.

And I couldn’t find a kombucha here to save my life. I thought it may be the way I was asking for it… but no… I scoured all versions of stores… organic to big groceries. Nada tostada.

Visits in the working class, now tourist “Caminito” neighborhood. * Argentine artist Benito Quinquela Martín who lived nearby, painstakingly prepared the walls facing the abandoned street, applying pastel colors (1960)* it’s very cool and there’s a few museums in the area and ten tons of street art.

I had read that you should be cautious and not wander out of the tourist area and into the working class neighborhood. I wandered… I came from a working class hood… I find it more boring than dangerous. Lots of TVs blaring with sports ball games and dudes standing around clutching cheap beer. Yawn. Try wandering into the ‘Tenderloin’ in San Francisco without having a slight to serious concern for your safety… and without contracting typhoid while doing it. #saidwithlove #colleen

A Sunday stroll through the San Telmo Fair and Market. It just went on forever. I tapped out after an hour.

A “Remembrance Day” protest… 30,000 people went missing 1976-84. There are memorial plaques throughout the city in the places they were last known to walk.

Their currency is unstable and I walked around with large piles of it that was possibly worth $20-150. I could never figure out the exchange rate. I got some black market exchange for $100US bills (that are desired) and felt like Scrooge Mc Duck… “here’s 37,000 Argentinian Pesos.”

The last site was the El Ateneo Grand Splendid book store. Amazing!! I asked the book store gal if they had a Spanish version of Kerouac’s “Dharma Bums”… and for the record folks… book store people are the same everywhere! Bookish looks and very matter of fact! Look it up, no we don’t have it, point out where it would be if they had it and next… I said, NEXT!!!! I found “On the Road” in Spanish… I now own it. I am extra happy about it.

One last breaky here and I head off to the airport and land in Santa Cruz de La Sierra, Bolivia this evening. I don’t officially have a plane ticket back to the US yet… but I think I’m missing some places and people and will break away to figure that out now.