Home > Still Traveling > Archives > 2007 > July
July 2007
Farewell
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Today is my last day in Buenos Aires. That doesn’t seem possible. This trip was supposed to last at least a year. But before I left, I applied to a grad school program that takes only three people a year. I figured it was a really long shot. But they accepted me. And I couldn’t say “no” to the opportunity. So I’m heading back to the States tonight. It feels wrong to go, but it feels right to be entering the program.
Last night, my friends Leo and Armando threw a farewell party for me and there were 20 people there, from all over the world: Italy, Scotland, England, Spain, Brazil, Ireland, Canada, Mexico, and of course, the States and Argentina. As I looked around I couldn’t help but think of my somewhat forelorn arrival four months ago. I feel really blessed to have found such good friends in so short a time, and I’m going to miss them.
I’ll also miss long afternoons spent in El Ateneo on Santa Fe Avenue, the most beautiful bookstore I’ve ever seen. I’ll miss Friday night dinners at the Dorothy Parker. I’ll miss people-watching at the Sunday ferias and learning new words every day.
I hope I can return someday.
But now I’m starting over again. I’ve got just a few days to find an apartment in Tuscaloosa, then I’ll be learning my way around a new town and making new friends. This time I won’t have to deal with a language barrier (insert your own joke about Alabama accents here), but I will again be a fish out of water, a 30-something grad student in a sea of 19-year-old undergrads.
Thanks to all of you who read and posted on the blog. It meant a great deal to hear from you. I hope you all will see Buenos Aires for yourselves soon!
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To evacuate or not?
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
About one in three residents of Southern coastal communities say they would not evacuate for a hurricane, according to a new Harvard University poll. Their rationale? They believe that their homes are safe and well-built, that roads would be too crowded and that fleeing would be dangerous.
Read the full story here.
One Harvard professor said he thought the increasing complacency was the result of a mild 2006 hurricane season. What do you think?
Kids on a plane
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
The debate over children and plane travel never seems to die down. This writer has tied together the latest events from both the parent and nonparent point of view.
If you haven’t read the latest story click here.
It seems it’s a hassle for anyone to fly, with or without baby. What do you think?
Do ill passengers on planes worry you?
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
First it was Atlantan Andrew Speaker flying internationally with a case of multi-drug-resistant TB. More recently it was a teenager ill with bacterial meningitis who got so sick on a plane from Orlando to Atlanta, then on to Wichita, Kan., on another plane, that she had to be hospitalized on arrival.
Do you worry about ill people when flying? Have you ever sat next to someone on a plane and worried that you’d catch their bad cold or other illness? It’s rare that illnesses such as TB and bacterial meningitis are transmitted by casual contact, but how often have you come down with a cold after a seatmate coughed and blew their nose during a entire flight? And let’s don’t even get started on a possible bird flu epidemic and infected passengers.
Permalink | Comments (7) | Categories: About the airlines
Dining in the dark
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Diners in Beijing are exploring dining in the dark. (And when we say dark, we mean pitch-black dark.) Restaurants there are turning off the lights to focus attention on the food.
You can read the full story here.
So, is this too far-out for you or would it be fun?
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Montevideo, Uruguay
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
A porteno once told me that Argentina’s relationship with Uruguay, its neighbor to the east, is something like the States’ relationship with Canada. They’re old friends who mostly get on well, though Argentina is sometimes accused of being dismissive of Uruguay, whose entire population is perhaps a third that of greater Buenos Aires.
Funny thing is, all the portenos I know love Montevideo — Uruguay’s capital city and the southernmost capital in all of the Americas — while most of the expats I know think it’s dull.
I decided to see for myself. It’s an easy trip from Buenos Aires — you can either take an hour-long boat ride to Colonia, Uruguay, and then board a bus that will take you 2.5 hours to Montevideo, or you can hop a boat direct to the city’s port and save 30 minutes.
Riding the bus through the city around 11 on a Thursday night, I was immediately struck by the lack of people. Buenos Aires is bustling at that time, its sidewalks lined with pedestrians and its streets filled with cabs and buses. Here, all was quiet. And it remained relatively quiet throughout the two days I was there. I found some hustle and bustle in the city center and in the Mercado del Puerto, where tourists and locals eat at one of the half-dozen or so parillas (grills) that send up an eye-stinging haze of smoke. But on Saturday as I walked in search of a feria I’d heard about, I sometimes went blocks without passing anyone.
Montevideo is more run-down than Buenos Aires, particularly in the old city. But it’s home to some beautiful historic buildings, including the restored Teatro Solis, where I saw a production of a very strange Calderon play. And it’s also home to a little museum dedicated to the artist Torres Garcia, a Uruguayan member of the avant-garde given to primary colors and blocky designs (though he painted portraits and such as well). You’ll see his work reproduced all over the country.
I understand why some people find Montevideo dull, especially after Buenos Aires. And I can also understand why portenos like it — sometimes you need a break from all the busyness.
Montevideo is in many ways more beautiful than Buenos Aires, thanks to all the water. It’s surrounded on three sides by the Rio de la Plata, which a little further north merges with the Atlantic. In narrower spots, you can look down sidestreets to your left and right and see the river. And it’s not the ugly brown water you see in Buenos Aires, either. It reminds me a little of one of the Great Lakes.
I’d love to go back on a hot, sunny day and sit on the deck of one of the riverfront restaurants, eating fresh fish and sipping medio y medio (their blend of sparkling and white wines). I’m sure I wouldn’t be bored at all.
Permalink | | Categories: Buenos Aires
Cigarette lighters on planes
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Airline passengers will be able to bring many types of lighters into the cabin again, beginning Aug. 4, according to an interview with the head of the TSA.
Read the full story here.
What do you think about this development?
It’s only rock-n-roll
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Today, after eating a bowl of vegetable soup at the Dorothy Parker, I went to the Sunday feria in Recoleta. As I meandered past vendors selling handmade shoes and belts, soaps and jewelry, I could hear a band elsewhere in the park playing Bad Company’s “Feel Like Makin’ Love.” Talk about spoiling the mood.
But the influence of American culture is pervasive here, as it is in most of the world. While Starbucks has yet to find a way in, McDonalds and Burger King are everywhere. I hear more American than Argentine music. And I watch just about any American television show I like (in English, with Spanish subtitles), though usually they run a half-season to a whole season behind.
I hear quite a few American cuss words as well.
Argentines use other English words, too, albeit usually a little differently. For example, “smoking” is their word for tuxedo. “Basket” is basketball; “living” is living room; “shopping” is mall.
They have their own way of saying depressed — “deprimido” — which is probably an accurate way of describing the city tonight. I know I’ve written a lot about soccer here, but it’s hard to overstate its importance to the people. Tonight, Argentina played Brazil in the final match in the Copa de America. Argentina was the favorite, having breezed through the earlier rounds. Brazil, missing some of its best players, had struggled a bit. But tonight Brazil trounced Argentina 3-0. An Argentine player scored one of Brazil’s goals for them, which makes me a little worried for his safety.
I watched the game with a bunch of expats in a San Telmo cafe filled with locals. We had visions of celebrating around the city’s giant obelisk afterwards, but the game went wrong from the start. The locals watched silently, intensely, their faces growing longer and longer. Afterwards, a few of my friends went to a Brazilian bar to celebrate with the winners, but that felt wrong to me. I’m first and foremost an American, of course, but now I’m also just a bit of an Argentine. So I’m at home, spending the rest of the night quietly, like my neighbors.
Permalink | | Categories: Buenos Aires
Who should go bye-bye?
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
A Buford woman and her young son were removed from a flight from Houston to Oklahoma by a flight attendant who became frustrated when the boy repeated the phrase “Bye-bye plane” as the plane pulled away from the airport. Of course, the story wouldn’t be complete without some media input. (The woman appeared on “Good Morning America” Friday morning.)
Read the full story here.
What do you think? Did the flight attendant overstep her bounds? Should the passenger have taken her “cause” to the national press?
Horseback riding with the gauchos
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Never in my adult life had I ridden a horse. I have a vague recollection of a terrifying ride in my childhood, but couldn’t tell you where or why or even for sure if I was on a horse. Nevertheless, as part of my trying-new-things lifestyle here, on Saturday I ventured into the pampas outside of Buenos Aires to try a little horseback riding and to pass a night at an estancia (ranch) in the countryside.
I’d explained to the owners of Estancia Los Dos Hermanos that I had no experience, and they promised to seat me on a calm horse. An older gaucho in a beret basically lifted me onto my horse, a pretty white creature named Comanche. Comanche? Does that sound like a name for a docile horse? And Comanche was apparently starving, because while the other horses stood still in the corral, he kept moving in search of a little grass to munch on. My attempts to hold him still had no effect.
So I was a little nervous as we set off for our ride through the dying grasses of the pampas. Comanche and I did fine, though, more or less. But much like me, he had a mind of his own. From time to time he’d stop to munch thistles or dry cornstalks, oblivious to my attempts to urge him along. When one of the guides came up behind him, though, he’d pick up speed. My goodness, horseback riding is jarring! I saw that the more experienced riders moved up and down on their own, but I couldn’t master that, and so bumped along as we trotted — and briefly — galloped.
After our morning ride, we all returned to the estancia for an asado. Argentine asados are not like our barbecues. They cook more or less the entire cow, and bring you different cuts of sizzling beef on heated miniature grills, one after another, until you think you’ll burst. And then they serve dessert. After all that meat and a little red wine, my friend and I decided to skip the afternoon ride and hole up in our cabin, reading in front of a roaring fire.
It’s cold here — as I type, a few snowflurries are mixing with the rain — and it was a perfect way to pass an afternoon. And it was probably wise, too, because I am sore enough as it is. I expected my legs and rear to be a little sore, but it’s the muscles in my back, and to a lesser extent, my stomach, that really hurt. Who knew sitting atop a horse worked so many parts of the body?
Today is a holiday here — Argentina’s version of July 4 — but I think most people, like me, are hiding out in their houses, away from the cold, the rain, the wind. No fireworks here!
Permalink | Comments (7) | Categories: Buenos Aires
What’s your dream?
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
The Georgia tourism folks have come up with a good idea to market the state — the Georgia Dream Pass. Right now, it’s a dream for golfers. People who sign up for the pass get special privileges at participating golf courses all over the state, such as discounts on green fees, complimentary rounds (based on stays at resorts), two-for-one golf cart fees, priority tee times and other perks.
I don’t give a hoot about golf, but wait, there’s more: Soon, the tourism folks promise, you’ll be able to use the Dream Pass for privileges and benefits at attractions and resorts. If I can get a discount on a stay at Callaway Gardens, for instance, for doing nothing other than signing up for a card, then you’ve got my attention. For information on the card — it’s free — or to sign up, go to http://www.gadreampass.com
What kinds of discounts and privileges would you like to see on the card? Maybe we can give them some ideas. I’d go for discounts at some of Atlanta’s big attractions like the zoo or the aquarium or Stone Mountain. How about discounts to Braves or Falcons games? But I’d especially like to see deep discounts for last-minute getaways at some of Georgia’s resorts that otherwise would have empty rooms. Like cruise ships, hotels and resorts are better off with a head in the bed, even if it’s not at a premium rate — and I’d like to help them out.
A trip to the toilet museum
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Just said goodbye to an old college roommate who was visiting for a few days. We visited lots of tourist-y spots — Recoleta Cemetery, La Boca and the Boca Juniors soccer stadium, the Rosedal park, the national art museum, Plaza de Mayo, Cafe Tortoni — but we also made time for a trip to the Museo del Patrimonio, otherwise known as the toilet museum. (Though that’s not a literal translation.)
This quiet little homage to the wonders of clean drinking water and sanitary sewage systems lies in the gorgeous Palacio de las Aguas Corrientes, whose terra cotta facade once concealed the city’s water supply and is now home to a private water company. While locals paid bills on the first floor, we climbed the stairs to the museum. We were the only patrons, and we wandered its handful of hardwood-floored rooms, gaping at row upon row of pipes, taps, water meters and of course, toilets and bidets. There must have been 100 in all, some cut open so we could see how the hidden pipes worked. My favorite was the black-and-white number with practically an entire second seat up front, specially designed for hemorrhoid sufferers. Afterwards, we popped into the biblioteca, where a friendly librarian seemed really, really happy to see us and loaded us down with pamphlets on all things water and sewer.
I managed to get us lost on the way to our next stop (yes, I still get lost), and in the process discovered where some dogs spend their day. Behind fenced-in patches of dirt smaller than some Atlantans’ back yards, packs of perhaps 50 dogs prowl and bark and, well, do the other things that dogs do. These spaces, I gather, are the Buenos Aires version of doggie day care. The attendants pick up the dogs at home and bring them to the parks in little orange buses exactly like the ones kids take to school. The buses even say escolares (students) on the side.
After all that excitement, I need a day or two of rest. And I need to focus on my Spanish. I’ve spoken mostly English for the last several days, and I can already feel my Spanish muscles atrophying. And so I’ll grab my Spanish-English dictionary and head to bed with a short story by Julio Cortazar, one of Argentina’s most-reknowned authors who loved tales with a twist.
Permalink | Comments (2) | Categories: Buenos Aires
Did Arkansas move when I wasn’t looking?
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Word just arrived from the Southeast Tourism Society that the state of Arkansas has joined the organization.
It’s good for Arkansas tourism officials , because it will give them more marketing power. But it seems like an odd fit to this old Arkansas native. We always considered ourselves more Southwest/Midwest than South, especially in the nothern part of the state where I grew up. Many people think my accent sounds more Texas than Southern, even though I’ve been in Georgia almost 20 years.
Do you think of Little Rock and Arkansas as the South? What’s your definition of a Southern state? Does most of the population have to have a Southern drawl to qualify? I’ve heard of people as far away as Maryland claiming to be a Southern state, but somehow, I don’t think they qualify.
Permalink | Comments (31) | Categories: Southeast travel, Southeast travel
