When Elisa went to go pick up her boyfriend George from the airport, I went with Paola (Elisa's roomate at school) and Martin (Paola's boyfriend) to go explore Buenos Aires' San Telmo neighborhood. It was Sunday, the day of the area's famous market . . . it was chock full of colonial architecture, antique and art vendors and street preformers and milling crowds. It turns out that in BsAs, they really do tango in the streets. As we wandered through the different areas, I really thought my heart would burst. The life in the streets was amazing, and I can see why Elisa is threatening not to come home.
As we walked through the streets we stumbled across tango band after tango band, each with more than 7 members, complete with fiddles, accoridans, horn players and actual full pianos that had been rolled into the streets. But the best part about the bands is that all the players were you - my age. This wasn´t just a remnant of a cultural tradition long past - its a living breathing renaissance. (Aparently during the
Dirty War of the 70s and 80s most of the musicians were
disappeared, so there is a whole
generation of Tango missing, but now the country´s youth has taken it up as their own.) Our favorite band featured a front man with a deep traditional passionate voice, a goatee and a shock of dyed red hair. It was fabulous.
And as you walk through the streets there is also cafe after cafe (think Prague or Paris or Vienna), in ways that make you want to sit down and write great deep literature. Practically any recommendation says that
Borges wrote in this cafe, or this novel was written in that neighborhood. And all I could think was, I have so much to read and so much to see. Can´t I extend my ticket and just stay a little longer?? I called United. I am now coming home August 4th, so that I get and extra weekend in Buenos Aires.
When Elisa went to go pick up her boyfriend George from the airport, I went with Paola (Elisa's roomate at school) and Martin (Paola's boyfriend) to go explore Buenos Aires' San Telmo neighborhood. It was Sunday, the day of the area's famous market . . . it was chock full of colonial architecture, antique and art vendors and street preformers and milling crowds. It turns out that in BsAs, they really do tango in the streets. As we wandered through the different areas, I really thought my heart would burst. The life in the streets was amazing, and I can see why Elisa is threatening not to come home.
As we walked through the streets we stumbled across tango band after tango band, each with more than 7 members, complete with fiddles, accoridans, horn players and actual full pianos that had been rolled into the streets. But the best part about the bands is that all the players were you - my age. This wasn´t just a remnant of a cultural tradition long past - its a living breathing renaissance. (Aparently during the Dirty War of the 70s and 80s most of the musicians were disappeared, so there is a whole 
generation of Tango missing, but now the country´s youth has taken it up as their own.) Our favorite band featured a front man with a deep traditional passionate voice, a goatee and a shock of dyed red hair. It was fabulous.
And as you walk through the streets there is also cafe after cafe (think Prague or Paris or Vienna), in ways that make you want to sit down and write great deep literature. Practically any recommendation says that Borges wrote in this cafe, or this novel was written in that neighborhood. And all I could think was, I have so much to read and so much to see. Can´t I extend my ticket and just stay a little longer?? I called United. I am now coming home August 4th, so that I get and extra weekend in Buenos Aires.
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