The Third "M"

My smoking-hot, mega-talented and infinitely-wise friend Chrissy Bray (check her out: http://www.chrissybray.com/) , upon learning I was flying to Buenos Aires, told me excitedly that I would love it because it was the city of three Ms: Meat, Malbec and Men. 

After writing posts on the other two, this post is dedicated to shedding some light on some of  my experiences with the men of Buenos Aires. Mum, probably don't print this one out for Nanna. Just kidding. Kindof. 




Ok, so I've mentioned before that the locals of Buenos Aires are called Portenos (there's a wavy line above the n that I can't get my keyboard to type.. but you get the idea), meaning, from the Port. A typical porteno has longish hair, lives with his parents until the age of 28, loves football and is an insatiable flirt. Ofcourse I'm generalising. But y'know, mas or menos (my favourite spanish phrase - meaning more or less.. you can use it for everything.. but I digress).

Street, Bar, Police Station, Emergency scenarios (more on that later).. any opportunity is the right opportunity for a porteno to test out his powers of flirtatious persuasion. Now, as far as I have sussed things out.. just because a porteno compliments you, declares his love for you, spends the entire night staring at you etc it doesn't actually mean that he would want anything to happen between you. Often he is just letting you know that he is a male and has noticed (and appreciates the fact) that you are a woman. He is probably married or long-term-girlfriended. Telling a woman he thinks she is beautiful is a reflex reaction akin to yawning. He probably isn't even aware he is doing it.

Street
If you are the type of girl who gets freaked out when construction-site workers wolf-whistle as you walk past, do NOT come to South America. You will hate it. If you feel this way AND are a high-vis blonde, like me, you will spend most days in tears. For my part, although I am amazed by the frequency and inappropriateness of comments (really? do you expect me to hand over my number to a complete stranger who tells me he will f@$% me into 8 pieces? Really?), I would be totally lying if I said I didn't enjoy the attention or sometimes let a private smile slip as I walk past. The attention varies from the genuinely sweet or clever - my gorgeous friend Lucia tells me she had a lovely old man declare "Finally, my eyes have had breakfast"  upon seeing her on her way to work one morning - to lewd kissing and tongue-flicking gestures. Fairly animalistic and gross.

The flirtatious comments have been given the name of "piropos" - which translates something like "fire eyes". There's some pretty cool ones that do the rounds (not that I understand them at the time) like - "Look at those curves! And here I am without breaks"; or "If you cook like you walk, I want to eat scraps!". Sometimes I wish I had one of those head-cameras, I'd call it piropos-vision, to capture the lustful looks and neck-snapping head-twists, that take place as you walk down the street. It's quite comical.

For further insight, check out this entertaining video (the chica who made it has become a bit of a local celebrity after originally posting a video about her asshole ex-boyfriend).. http://vimeo.com/36509870

Bar
Ok.. so this is where Porteno men really shine.  For them, picking up a girl is really just a game where they can put into practice their excellent skills.. and they really love the game! If you don't play the game i.e. if you (a) accede too easily or (b) don't show sufficient interest.. you aren't fun to play with and they'll probably look for someone new. It's a lot like fishing. They bait their hook and put it out there, often starting with direct staring or a flirty comment. Being obviously foreign, I provide the perfect opener of "de donde sos?" Where are you from?.. they chat/bullshit for a little while, testing for nibbles and revealing themselves as Chamuyeros (a silver-tongued, smooth-talking, bullshit artist lothario), then attempt to reel you in (this can be via attempting to kiss you there and then.. or by buying you a drink), then they release the reel, they'll go for a walk and survey their options, they won't call for a week etc.. then they will start again with the charm offensive and attempt to reel you in again. Release. Repeat. There's a whole chunk of porteno slang dedicated to the dating game and describing the male approach. e.g. you describe a guy who demonstrates this hard-to-get, hot and cold technique as an Histerico. FYI, the girls (portenas) play their part equally well in this game and are called Histericas.

Emergency Situations
Ofcourse, you know I love a good story. And Bs As has provided ample fodder for cracking story accumulation. This is one of my favourites (don't worry, it's short), that illustrates perfectly the men over here. Ok.. so I was walking along the street one night when I hear the sounds of an approaching fire engine. Sure enough, further down the street I could see smoke emerging from an apartment. As the fire-truck nears, I notice it start to slow down. I think "Gosh! They don't know where the fire is, I will put on my helpful face and show them where they need to go". Stopping beside me, the firemen lean out the window of the truck ..I wait, expectantly and ready to point and give directions in fumbled spanish. But no..  "Hola! Hermosaaa!! Que tal?! Dame tu numero!!" Etc etc (note.. my spanish is crap. this is along the lines of what I understood).

Yup. That's right. The firemen had slowed down to flirt with me and ask for my number. ON.THE.WAY.TO.A.FIRE.

Obviously a pretty extreme example, but I feel, very fitting for capturing the incorrigible nature of the men over here. And definitely not isolated. There's also the police officer who took my number from my official statement to ask me out (see Cops Are Tops). And the Museum Cloakroom attendant who asked me out after getting my number from the form I completed when checking-in my bag.

The result is that I've become something of a Chamuyera myself. Enjoying the funny, flirty conversation and the chance to practice my spanish.. but not viewing the guys as holding any viability in a serious romantic capacity. Muy histerica. My friend Bill, American ex-pat, tells me that the vast majority of ex-pats here, after experimenting with the locals intermittently, tend to end up dating other ex-pats.

Hate the game, not the players. Although actually, I'm quite enjoying both thank-you-very-much.

"Now, take off your dress". Joining a gym in Buenos Aires

So, I had a plan. Arrive in Buenos Aires, sample the local delights just long enough to establish an informed opinion (1 -2 weeks), then eat like a Portena (which is to say, stop eating) and dance every night to shed the 12 or so kilos I had stacked on after a year of living at home with my parents (my mum seriously makes the WORLD'S best brownies). 

But I didn't really stick to the plan.

I kept eating (d'uh. who was I kidding anyway) and the late night, carb-heavy eating, unfailingly punctuated with a giant helado full-stop, meant the 12 kilos were feeling quite at home and had even decided to invite over some new friends. 

So I decided to join a gym. I'd been holding off, not knowing how long I was going to stay, but at 250 pesos for the month.. I figured future photos of me shaking my groove-thang in a bikini on a beach in Rio would thank me for shelling out the $10/week.

So I signed up, paid my money for the month upfront, then was told I would need to see a doctor to complete a health check before commencing. Refer to the above title. Do you see where things are going?

The seemingly very professional doctor invited me in to his consultation room. He provided me with a questionnaire to complete with all the usual questions: smoke - no, allergies - no, alcohol - yes, please etc etc. He asked me my height and weight, took my blood pressure, all extremely standard. "Ok", he says. "Take off your clothes and lie on the bed".

I look at him, checking for a sign he is joking. No such sign. As serious as cancer. I will say, at this point, that I think his limited English and my limited Spanish meant the absence of customary niceties that would enable him to ask me to remove my clothing in a way that didn't seem completely pervy.

"Porque?"
"We attach these". He holds up a bunch of suction circles attached to a giant battery thing. My concerns are not abated. I think about throwing out another porque but there doesn't seem to be much point. I doubt I would understand the explanation.

Trying to maintain modesty, for now, I unbutton my shirt dress down as far as my navel and allow the doctor to affix the discs. "Be calm", he says. Sure thing.

The discs feel warm but are otherwise painless. A machine zig zags over green-checkered paper. "Normal" he declares. Hmm.. more or less.

I stand up. Ok. Survived that. It was strange but I'd witnessed other off-beat examples of the Argentinian health beliefs/superstitions by now so I'm feeling all, go-with-the-flow about it all. Like, they love calisthenics.. getting together in groups in the park and pointing and flexing their toes.  Ok.. not the best example but it's what I can think of at the moment.


"Now, take off your dress". Really?! Again, the ever-trusty, "Porque?".
"I need to see your skin".
Nope, you're going to have to do better than that. "Porque?!"
"You need to bend over and I need to look at your skin." It's said so matter-of-fact and without a hint of perv. Hmm.. one more.. "Porque?!!"
"Your back". 
I shrug my shoulders and relent. Removing my dress to waist-length and bending over, presumably so he can see the curvature of my spine. 
"Normal". Um.. not exactly.


So that was that. He handed me the green-checkered paper with the zig-zagging line (Mel, or other doctor friends, perhaps you can interpret for me?) and confirmed with the gym staff I had passed my physical examination. 

I still don't know if this is the usual practice or not. Any Bs As locals had similar experiences? Lucia??

Pleased to Meat You

I stole that pun from Jono Bush from the awesome Bush's Meats who I know from my days of sailing with Vanguard from the CYC, in Sydney. The full line goes: "Pleased to meat you. I have the meat to please you". Classic. 

Anyway.. I thought I'd write a little bit about the meat over here because it kindof dominates every menu, supermarket, fridge, diet, day etc etc.

For the past 20 years, Argentina has averaged consumption of 100kg of beef per capita per year. Carne is actually the word for meat generally (butchers are called Carniceria), but if it says carne.. 99% of the time, it is actually beef. Pork is consumed in much smaller quantities.. usually in the form of chorizos and bondiolas which is a kind of rolled, cured pork.. or as jamon (ham) and jamon crudo (proscuitto). Outside of Buenos Aires, towards Patagonia, it is more common to see Lamb and Goat. Anyway.. I'm mostly going to write about beef.  My Spanish teacher tells me the meat is so good and so cheap here, it has had the negative consequence that Argentinians are really uninteresting cooks. They'll just cook/eat meat. And they'll cook/eat it in the same way. Grilled.

To eat meat you either go to a Parilla (in buenos aires, pronounced pareesha, but in the rest of the spanish-speaking world, pronounced pareeya) or you hope you are invited to an argentinian asado (more on asados in a bit). 

Parilla is the name given to the grill the meat is placed on, but it is also used to describe restaurants that specialise in grilled meat. There is really no shortage of these in BA. You'll find at least one on every street. A typical lunch here (for portenos) is Bife de Chorizo con papas fritas. Steak and chips. Many Parillas do a lunch special around 40 pesos for this (about $10). The higher end steak restaurants sell their steak for closer to 50/60 + pesos not including sides. This price has apparently climbed quite rapidly over the past few years (as with everything here). Still. If you are into meat, Buenos Aires is pretty good value. And the quality is amazing. At a parilla it is customary to begin with some empanadas (little pasties filled with meat or corn or ham or cheese) and maybe proveleta - grilled provelone cheese with dried spices. You would then eat your offal - chitterlunes (the beginning part of the small intestine), morchilla (blood sausage), mollejas (sweetbreads or thylmas glands), chorizo (the pork sausage).. before moving onto the main event: the beef. 

There are about 10 different cuts of beef that you'll see on every menu. A lot of the time the names and descriptions are pretty different from what we are use to on Australian menus. I'm not going to write about them all but the most popular are probably the Bife de Chorizo, Bife de Lomo, Bife de Ojo, Metambre and Asado.

Bife de Chorizo has nothing to do with sausages. Or pork. It is sirloin and the closest thing to a New York strip. Order it at an expensive restaurant and it will be pretty amazing. The fat is a gorgeous yellow colour (grass-fed). In cheaper restaurants it will still be tasty but it will probably come with a heap of fat, and probably gristle. Lomo is tenderloin. It's usually the most expensive and is very tender. But is it is really lean, so not a lot of that fatty flavour that I like in my meat.

Asado is the word for BBQ, but on a menu at a parilla it refers to a cut that is like a tasty meaty-part sandwiched between some boney parts. Hmm.. I'm going to look up the technical name now.. oh apparently the boney bits are the ribs. The definition thing said it is chuck ribs, flank style. Not sure what that is but it is really tasty. And really popular at asados. Bife de ojo is eye fillet. Yawn. I really like Metambre which is a long thin cut that they take from just under the skin so it is nicely fatty. It runs from the beneath the ribs to the belly. When my friend Jen cooked it for us, she folded it in half so there was fat either side of the meat. All those fatty juices were cooked in. So good! Entrana - (skirt steak) can be pretty good, Bife de Costilla is a T Bone and pretty darn yum too. 

La Brigada and La Cabrera fight it out for the gringos guide to BA parillas top billing. La Brigada do the gimmick thing of cutting the steak with a spoon. La Cabrera have happy hour where the entire bill is 50% off if you arrive before 7pm. I like the feel of the neighbourhood parillas though. Less tourists clutching their timeout/lonely planet.. less formality.. and often more fun. The steaks and service aren't the same quality though..

Asados however, are the best! You'll be invited around about 9.30pm. My argentinian friends tell me that it is rude in argentina to arrive on time. If you say 9.30, you really want people to arrive at 10pm. If you actually arrive at the stipulated time, the host will freak out. Except if she/he is an expat. Or knows that you are. Anyway.. you eat the same things as above.. except you get to participate in the ritual of watching the meat bbq. There's something so australian about standing around and watching meat cook. And smelling it cook. Everywhere sells the necessary coals and timber. And when you buy it, you also ask for the wooden crate.. which you use to elevate the coals while they cook down. I think.

Anyway.. the meat is arranged in a beautiful, carnivorous collage on the grill. No marinating. No fancy sauces. Just meat and a lot of salt.  Once cooked, you can add Chimichurri sauce. A sauce of parsely, lemon and oil. Some places add a bit of chilli but this isn't really to argentines' tastes. At a recent asado I received a heap of strange looks from the argentinians when I kept loading the chimichurri onto my meat. I was enjoying the fact that this version had chillis in it. They couldn't believe I could handle the quantities of, to be fair, extremely mild sauce. Eventually it earned me the nickname of Chimichurri. Hey. I like it spicy.

I'll whack some photos up soon. I'll also write something soon about food that isn't meat. For those occasions I stray from the meaten path (haha).

Cops are Tops!

Go to an asado - tick!
Dance til the sun comes up - tick!
Get mugged - tick!

Ok! So.. I'm successfully ticking off all the must-do essential Buenos Aires experiences. The most recent is getting mugged at gun point. I've posted about this on facebook and the response was pretty huge so I thought I'd break down everything that happened rather than answer individual questions. But ultimately I am completely ok and safe (physically and mentally) and I got everything back. Yup, in my customary, ridiculously lucky fashion. Ok.. so this is what happened:

I had just finished eating some deeelicious tacos with my new friend Carla at the very awesome Fabrica de la Taco (planning to have my bday party there so remember the name). It was about 1.30am which is quite a busy time of night in Palermo with a lot of bars and restaurants only really just warming up. I was about 6 blocks from home, walking down Guarruchaga. I noticed a guy on a bicycle on the other side of the street and thought to myself "hmm.. I really miss my bicycle, it would be great if I could rent one to get around BA". I also noticed it had a plastic bag covering the seat. I like to see someone who values and cares for their possessions.Then I noticed the guy swerve across the street and lean his bike up against a post and walk across the footpath to what I thought was his front door. Again I had a silly little thought to myself "Hmm.., isn't that interesting that he doesn't lock his bike up for the night. He should be careful.. it could get stolen." I see him reach into his bag as he asks "Una pregunta" - a question.. After my experience of Porteno men I thought he was reaching for his phone to ask for my number. I know that makes me seem vain, but it is what happens every time you go walking here. 3-4 times a night. So I readied myself to smile politely but dismissively. 

BUT instead of pulling out his phone, he pulled out a GUN. A large silver gun. He then stuck it in my face. It took a little while for me to realise what was going on.. my brain doing a kindof 'DOES NOT COMPUTE'. I backed away clutching my bag and shaking my head. He waved the gun in my face and grabbed at my bag but I clung on. He made a few more violent grabs, breaking my necklace from my throat in the process (it was a 10 peso/ $2 yellow plastic number I bought from a vintage store in san telmo). Eventually he snapped my bag from me, breaking the straps (again.. it was an old vintage leather bag I bought for 30 pesos/$8). He jumped on his bike and started pedalling back in the direction he came from. I started chasing him. Screaming at the very top of my voice and at an ungodly high pitch. I surprised even myself with my horror-movie heroine talents.. I don't really know any Spanish, but a while ago I had been in a taxi and the driver had locked all the doors when we started approaching the CBD, I looked at him quizzically and my companion had explained, Banditos. So anyway, when I was chasing this mugger and screaming and pointing, I also shouted the word BANDITO!! a few times for good measure. The word "bandit" is just as antiquated here, as it is in Australia/English-speaking-world, so when I re-tell this story, everyone seems to find this part very amusing.

My screams drew the attention of an amazing couple a block up ahead. Valeria and Matias. They had been visiting with friends and practising KUNG FU (seriously). Matias later told me that my screams sounded as though extreme violence was being done. He said they chilled him to his bone (cool, huh?) He saw the approaching man on the bicycle, and me chasing him, screaming.. and pulled out his metre-long MACHETE from its sheath. Again, seriously. 

The mugger swerved to avoid the machete but by this stage he was panicking as more and more people came onto the street to see what was the reason for all the screaming and probably to try and see a real-life bandito in the flesh. I didn't know this at the time, but at this point the mugger threw away my bag to dispose of the evidence (or maybe even dropped it accidentally in the ruckus). This whole time I was still screaming and pointing, determined to draw as much attention to him as possible. Slowed down by the machete-wielding ninjas, and the spectator-filled footpaths, the mugger was running out of places to go. Together we chased him into the path of a waiting police officer, who happened to be standing guard on the nearby street corner and had heard by screams and followed the shouts of the other witnesses. This Police Officer just happened to be on the street corner for one night only because inside, the Israeli Embassy was having a party. Again, so incredibly lucky!

I am not sure if the police officer dragged the mugger off his bike or if he got off himself .. but by the time I caught up with them, the mugger was pinned to the ground.. his giant silver gun on the ground beside him, his bike overturned a few metres away. He was denying doing anything wrong and saying he had nothing.. to check his bag. The police officer asked me - is this him? did he assault you? or something similar. I agreed. Pointing at him and pointing at the gun and doing a lame mime intimating roughly what happened. I started looking for my bag. At this point I was thinking, imagine if I got through all this and then I don't even get my bag back. I thought that maybe he had thrown the bag away and then some lucky bystander picked the bag up and made off with it stealth-like. I re-traced where we had come from and again, my guardian angel Matias, came through with the goods, spotting my bag in the gutter a few streets away.

The mugger was dragged away and dealt with in a less-than-gentle fashion by angry locals who exacted revenge until a police car arrived with enforcements something like 5 seconds later. Uber efficient. They kicked and spat on him and very politely asked if I wanted to join in. Um, no thank you. I answered the questions of all the bystanders.. some american tourists took photos of the gun on the footpath and high-fived each other. Woah! A real-life mugging. I had my hand on my heart feeling how fast it was beating. I realised I had tears down the side of my face even though I couldn't remember crying. People kept asking if I was ok. By this stage, I had my bag back, I was unharmed, and I was feeling as though my heart had been kick-started. I felt shocked but fairly exhilarated at the same time.  I nodded and gave lots of thumbs up in confirmation.

I was told that I needed to go to the station to make a declaracion. The two witnesses, Valeria and Matias needed to come with me.. to make their statements also and to act as my interpreter. At this stage it was after 2 in the morning and Matias had to wake up at 8.30 for a physical exam. The fact he came with me and acted as my interpreter was just so amazing and kind of him. We three piled into the back seat of the police car and took off to the station.What? Your tour of South America didn't include a ride in the backseat of a police car? Missing out.

The police station was really interesting, but at the same time.. exactly the same as my experience with police stations in Australia. The person taking my statement typed with two-fingers only (is this part of the international police training.. maybe Conrad can answer this for me?). Also waiting for their turn with the police were two Argentinian locals who had their wallet stolen and needed to make a report for insurance. They said that the police don't even ask for a description anymore.. they just type 18 years old, wearing a hoodie. There was also another couple who had come to demand a police guard for their street as another car window had been smashed (it was the 4th time that week). They told me that in some barrios, residents had taken to vigilantism - setting known thieves' homes on fire when they felt the justice system didn't deal with them properly. Many older residents never left their homes after dark and the anger and frustration at crime levels has much of the population at breaking point.

After about an hour of waiting, two police walk in, chests puffed (and not just cos of the bulletproof vests they were wearing), triumphantly carrying two marijuana trees. There was an exchange in spanish, then more police officers disappeared to the waiting van and started unloading tree after tree (20 in total). Funnily enough, for the next half hour, all the police officers disappeared out the back.  Another half an hour, the grower's lawyer arrived, obviously freshly woken up, wearing boardshorts, one of those surfer sharks tooth necklaces and carrying a brief case. Also funny.


I finally made my declaration (this took AGES due to the aforementioned two-fingered typing technique) and then two police officer drove me home. Ten minutes later, the police officer who drove me home sent me a text message (then another) telling me that I could call him if I needed anything anytime.. and that he wanted to be my friend. So.. they're allowed to extract your number from official documents to call from their private numbers, yes? haha .. so consistently porteno!

So yes, that's the story of how I survived, and, I like to think, triumphed over my first (hopefully only) South American mugging. I've trotted out the story on more than a few occasions now and it's something of a winner (I use to do PR, modesty ain't my thing) with both locals and other travellers. I guess because it is a rare story of the good guys (again, modest) coming out on top. 


Anyway, I'd like to publicly thank my guardian angel who 1) ensured the mugger was on a push bike, instead of a motorbike 2) sent me two KUNG FU NINJAS with a MACHETE 3) sent me a competent police officer and positioned him perfectly 4) prevented me from being shot at when I reacted so stupidly as to chase someone with a gun. 


Thank you for continuing to look out for me xx
(I'd also quite like to win the lotto. Just saying).

Activities!

Stuff I've done and places I've been:

La Tigre. Caught the train from Retiro station to this pretty little town on the delta. It's somewhere the Portenos often like to go on weekends as a bit of a daytrip. I caught the public boat up the river to check out all the river houses etc Afterwards I had a piece of quiche in a friendly little restaurant. I was the only female and all the other customers were these classic old argentinian men. They all wanted to practise their English on me and to show me how to make my lunch better (lots of salt apparently).

La Boca. Went here with Caroline and took the obligatory photos of all the beautifully bright coloured houses. Apparently the patchwork paintwork is the result of the very poor locals begging visiting ships for any spare paint so they could gussy up the outside of their homes. La Boca is a very poor neighbourhood and tourists are warned not to venture from the well-beaten tourist paths. But the result is that you feel as though you are visiting a cardboard city.. like a film set with nothing beyond the facade .. a small couple of blocks set up as a kind of show for tourists. The other thing Boca is famous for it the notorious Boca Junior football team.. the matches between Boca and River are legendary (youtube it now.. amazing). Boca's most successful player is the revered Maradona. There are wooden statues of his smiley face everywhere in Boca. 


La Boca is the birthplace of Tango in Argentina and the streets are filled with the sultry sounds of the tango music and there are shrines to the most important tango figures like Gardel and El Gordo.

Bracelet-making party. The aim was to make a thousand bracelets to sell for 10 pesos each to raise money to buy presents and supplies for children stuck in hospital over christmas. The children had created cards to santa clause asking for a doll, a football etc They were adorable! I found out about the event through Di (you can see her showing us her bracelet-making skills in the middle photo). Di is currently cycling around the world .. going wherever her "followers" tell her.. like a choose your own adventure book but she doesn't get to choose - we do! Currently the choice is between leaving BA to go west to Mendoza or north to Iguazu. Di is AMAZING and a kindred spirit who is very open to new adventures and activities.. check out her page at.. www.indianajune.com

Had a tango lesson. So I was sitting out the front of La Poesia (one of my favourite cafes in San Telmo) with the lovely Caroline when a stranger came up and said he had a very unusual favour to ask. He was an Aussie from Geelong and had booked in to have a tango dance class but they insisted he needed a partner. So.. being someone who says yes to random requests I found myself having a tango lesson. It was fun! Tango is very cool.. all sexy footwork intimating the to-ing and fro-ing of romantic interchange .. The professor said I was a natural.. but I don't think it is my kinda dance. I prefer more energetic, less structured. Or, as I told Hannes the other day.. I prefer dancing where I get to sweat and wiggle more. He found that amusing.


Bomba de la Fiesta! I'm not sure if I'm writing that correctly but it was a huge night of dancing with a stage full of drummers and performers and djs etc etc in this ginormous warehouse.I went along with Di and some of the people I met at the bracelet making party (Emily, Charlie, Jonny, Isabel) and also invited Daphne along. This was one of the best nights I have ever had! The energy was incredible!

Running Have switched my running track to around Parque de Palermo. It's filled with lakes and ducks. Very pretty! I've actually only done this twice since moving to Palermo on Monday. Way too much dancing til 3-4am ++!


Argentinian Birthday Party I crashed this party with some new friends I met on Thursday night.. super fun rooftop party with dj. Arrived just in time to eat cake!

This is my apartment. I sit out on the terrace in the mornings and eat my bowl of cornflakes with banana and listen to the morning birds. Santa Fe (the street/avenue I live on) is one of the busiest in Buenos Aires, but my apartment is completely sheltered from the hustle and is very tranquilo.

This is Hannes. The wonderful Kristiane introduced us and he is the most interesting, most hilarious guy I have met! We spent an entire day drinking in the sunshine at Plaza Serrano. This photo is of his happy face because it is the first day of his holidays.

This is my friend Jonny. He is from Colombia but has lived here in Buenos Aires for 4 years. He likes dancing almost as much as me. He says to me "You are from AUSTRALIA?!! But you dance like Latina!" This is him showing his acting range. There's also some photos from a club we went to on Wednesday night with my new friend Bill. Mucho bailar!

Week 2: Things I've noticed

Yay! I've survived my second week in Buenos Aires. Probably 'relished' would be a better verb. I now have an apartment here (for those who know the hood.. it's at Santa Fe 3942 just opposite the Botanic Gardens in Palermo). I'm living with a french guy and a dutch girl both of whom speak spanish fluently and have been living and working here for 4 or so years. As i type this on a Monday night we have some argentinian music pumping out, red wine is flowing and they are trying to teach me spanish swear words. I've done some more exploring, done a bit of partying, done some eating and done a lot of dancing. Here's some stuff I've noticed during my time so far. I might do a 'what i've been up to post with photos later).


Buenos Aires smells like:
San Telmo smells like smokey, meaty parillas (pronounced here par-eesha but everywhere else pareeya - basically the grill they use to cook the meat) blended with rotting, sun-warmed rubbish awaiting collection. 
Palermo streets smell perfumed - a kinda sickly sweet powdery perfume but then this is blended with the smell of a thousand pampered pooches' urine. 
Tigre smells like incense and cane baskets. 
La Boca smells like perm solution.. which is to say, bad! When I visited it had been raining so I'm not sure if what I was smelling was clogged sewerage.. but it wasn't nice.
In early December, BA smells like a bunch of eggs and flour baking on the pavement in front of various schools. Upon graduating, the students celebrate by throwing eggs and flour at each other while parents photograph the spectacle.
Often BA smells like bakeries.. there are so many dotted throughout the streets.. baking medialunas (croissants - i've used my considerable spanish interpreting skills to decipher this means literally half moon), tortillas (often more like quiche), empanadas, alfahores, omeletes (these are actually like a stack of thin layers of omelette with mayonaise and various salad ingredients between the levels) and other assorted decadent tortas (tarts - but i think it's spelled with an e?).
Jasmine (Jazmin) - again.. so many street florists selling precious bunches of jasmine for 5 pesos. Jasmine is one of my favourite scents.. it reminds me of summer nights in Brisbane where a welcome breeze would bring the sweetness of the evening jasmine creeper from outside my window. So this is a fantastic olfactory distraction from that of doggie dos.


Thing that BA does very well:
-Wi-fi. Free wi fi almost everywhere.
-supermarket booze. buy your beer from a supermarket and you can get a litre of Stella or the local Quilmes for 6 pesos (divide by 4) or a bottle of captain morgan rum for 40 pesos (yeah.. that's $10). But order a rum and coke in a bar and it's the same price (38 ++ pesos depending upon the ambient coolness)
- Wine -- everyone is obsessed with Malbec because that's what they're famous for.. but the pinots and chardonnays and pinot gris are fantastic! Bottleshop/supermarket prices are around 30-40 pesos a bottle for good mid-range.
- Fruit shops. One on every corner. 
- Meat. D'uh.
- Actually farming generally. Argentina is so blessed for farming. It has enormous, completely flat plains, with rich soil, 1/12 of the world's fresh water supply and amazing weather.
-Music. There's music everywhere all the time. I can't help mini dancing as i walk the streets. BA is famous for the tango, which is amazing, but there's also a big jazz and blues scene, latin-y salsa-y music, pop music, rock etc etc. They don't pronounce the "h" at the start of words here, so I was amused to see their monthly heavy metal magazine is called EDBANGER
- Late night dining/dancing. One of BA's most famous restaurants, Cabrera, has a 50% discount off their entire menu if you go before 8.30pm. No one eats early here. It's 1am here now and my roommates are just finishing their dinner and discussing whether they should go out. And yes, it's monday. And they're working tomorrow.
-Public transport. Australia has the worst and most expensive public transport in the world. Here, 2 pesos (max) can get you anywhere you want to go.  
- Bookshops. More bookstores per capita than anywhere else in the world. I love bookstores.
- Antiques. When they were prosperous, the Argentines were a materialistic bunch. This resulted in a heap of beautiful public buildings, and a lot of expensive possessions that have survived to be displayed in the hundreds of antique stores in san telmo. Would LOVE to see n episode of Antiques Roadshow filmed here. How good?
-Ice-cream. Helados. I might have already mentioned this.. but yes.. delicious creamy artisan ice-cream is sold EVERYWHERE. It is so so good. Seriously, a messina/massimo standard gelato store on every street.


Things BA doesn't do so well:
Coffee. Not a coffee drinker so this doesn't really affect me. Apparently they import a really inferior type of coffee bean - gosh knows why given their proximity to brazil and colombia.. but yes.. they then take this inferior coffee bean and try and treat it in the italian way as though it was amazing coffee.. so the coffee ends up weak and without much flavour, so then they decide to brew it with sugar.. so the whole thing is a bit of a mess really. Doesn't stop them drinking it all the time though!
Toilets. They generally don't have much flushing power. Therefore you are not allowed to fush your toilet paper .. it has to go into the bin provided.
Beds. Or at least the ones Ive been able to afford to sleep in. Errant springs, rock hard, or flimsy, non-existent pillows.
Breakfast. Given the bedtimes I'm not surprised.. but yeah, breakfast isn't really something they do over here beyond a cafe and a pastry.
Spicy. Apparently Argys tend not to go for strongly flavoured food. It makes it almost impossible to eat anything genuinely spicy. I'm missing this!
Morning. Nothing opens before 10am.
Rain. Apparently it doesn't rain very frequently here so when it does, the city seems unprepared. The streets get slippery, there's very little cover and no one sells umbrellas. Also.. the rain re-releases the smell of all that dried dog urine and faeces.


People Argentinians like:
Maradona (God. Can do no wrong)
Shakira
AC/DC (i've seen SO many AC/DC car bumper stickers!)
Evita (mostly)
Charly Garcia (Argentinian Rockstar - who is Mister Teflon when it comes to getting away with anything and everything)
Carlos Gardel (basically the Bing Crosby of the Tango music world)


Business ideas I've had so far:
Cattle-dog breeder (apparently with all the farms over here they are in huge demand)
Some Like it Hot (restaurant and bar with spicy food and drinks)
BA food and wine tours: start at the markets, coffee and medialunas, learn to make your own empanadas, night time parilla etc
Mobile food van business operating outside club districts between 3-6am. 

Portenos
Porteno (I guess, from the port?) is what you call people from Buenos Aires. o is for men. I'll write about portenas next.

Ok! So the men here. Whoa! They are definitely not shy in letting you know they like you. Every walk through the street is accompanied with a lot of wolf whistling, air-kisses and a whole lot of spanish that it is probably best I don't understand. They will come up to you and ask for your contact details in broad daylight. Still, I have never felt anything other than 100% safe. It's nothing to get a big head over.. they all have girlfriends and wives and just can't help but flirt and be all lustful in their latino way. They flirt with the 80 year old woman selling them orange juice. It's just their way. They are all unfaithful. Or at least, try to be. Which I think has made argy women slightly crazy. They have a local slang word for it here "Chamuyaro" (I think that's right).. basically a silver-tongued smooth-talker that will say anything to get a girl.  
Obviously you learn to take everything they say with a giant truckload of salt.. I'm pretty much un-pickable over here cos I don't trust them an inch.. but I find their conversations super amusing!


Fashion:
Generally super well-groomed. The polo set loved their white jeans, crisp colored shirt, belt and brown shoes.. often topped off with a gaucho beanie hat. Normally with longish hair. 


Portenas
Fashion:
Around San Telmo it is pretty much only jeans and longish tunic tops. But everyone, no matter where.. wears platform wedges everywhere. I don't know how they do it all day and all night, especially on the cobbled streets of san telmo. Occasionally.. I've found mostly when there's a chance of rain they will wear flats (very occasionally) and in those instances they will choose converse sneakers or these flat canvas slip ons that have a name I can't remember right now.
In Palermo the women are much more fashion conscious. They dress a lot skimpier and more currently.


ALSO plastic surgery is ridiculously common here. And there isn't really any social taboo about it. They all very openly admit to having it. And it is really cheap too. Yesterday I spent an entire day sitting in Plaza Serrano with Hannes with him pointing out all the fake boobs.. It was something like 3 in 5. Crazy.




Hmm.. ok going to bed now. Might add more later. And add photos. Love and high5s!

Week 1: Hola!

Hello!

So! It´s really really real. I am in Buenos Aires. I flew here on a one-way ticket from Sydney. I will be living overseas indefinitely. I don´t know the where or the what or the how. I should be apprehensive but I´m not in the slightest. I am so frickin excited!

Anyway.. this is my blog. I´ve never blogged before. It´s a very hip thing to do isn´t it? Frickin hipsters. I´m blogging because a) I´m too lazy to email everyone separately; and b) I thought it would be a good way of keeping track of what I get up to. I´m just going to whack up some words and some pictures when I think to. It won´t be well written or witty or funny. And I´ll probably resort to dot points more often than not. Apologies now for the boring and for giving stupid detail. It´s pretty much going to be a factual recount. Anyway.

Ok. So. It´s been almost a week. This is what I got up to:

1. Flight from Sydney was tops! I watched Midnight in Paris. Loved it. Watched all the 30Rock Episodes. Slept a shedload. Arrived in Buenos Aires at 10am. Met a lovely missy called Tori while waiting for my bags. She was staying in Sam Telmo so I said she could share my ride. Andy (the driver my friend Jim had put me on to) picked us up and I arrived at Lo de Rick (Rick´s Place) in San Telmo at about 12. I dumped my bags then went into town to sort out a local phone. I also got my re-growth done (it cost about $35). Slept, facebooked etc etc

Rick´s Place (named for Casablanca) is pretty sweet. It is situated on Defensa, which is the oldest street in Buenos Aires. It is all cobbled and romantic with gorgeous old buildings. Rick´s looks on to the old mint. I might find out how old it is and write it in HERE later. Might.
Rick´s is John´s home and guest house. John only invites people who are friends of friends. John is a former Stockbroker from England who first came to Buenos Aires 14 years ago following his passion for tango dancing. He´s lived here ever since. Also living at Rick´s is Rick and Louis (German Short Haired Pointers GSPs) and 3 cats the only one whose name I know is Henry. This is the website for the guesthouse: http://www.loderick.com/ Here are some photos I took on the roof.

2. Tuesday: John took me on a walking tour of san telmo as we walked the dogs. There are so many purebreed dogs in Buenos Aires. There are also professional dog walkers. Insert name in spanish HERE. The record for the most number of dogs I´ve seen a dog walker with is currently 22.

After breakfast I walked to Recoleta, supposedly BA's wealthiest neighbourhood. The key attraction here is Cementerio de la Recoleta ( Cemetery) which is the final resting place for Maria Eva Duarte de Peron aka Evita (don't cry for me etc etc) and the rest of Argentina's most illustrious stiffs. There's hundreds of immaculately maintained marble mausoleums, decorated with bronze statues and nameplates, with stairs descending down into basement crypts (is that the right word?). Some of them, especially the ex-presidents are incredibly ornate. Anyway, I really enjoyed channelling my inner year 12 history student. It also reminded me of Buffy. Here are some photos.

There's also this photo of a poster for coke light that I saw. It has no other significance apart from the fact that I thought the guy looked like a dude.

Next I walked to the Museo Nacionale de Bellas Artes – free art gallery with a compact but pretty impressive collection of classical art. My favourite was the Gaugin but the Degas works (ballerinas etc) are probably the most famous. I got hit on by an Argentine museum operator who wanted to take me for a drink. Hmm.. After that I walked to Floralis Generica which is a giant silver flower sitting on a circle of water that rotates along with the direction of the sun and closes at night. At night the inner stalks light up red and there is this awesome warm glow. This is one of my favourite BA attractions.

Food time! I went to a place called Cumano to try my first argentinian cuisine. I opted for lomo piccante empandas (spicy beef pastry parcels) and also some locro which is a kind of stew made with meat and corn and beans. It kindof tasted like a really good pea and ham soup. Home for siesta! I LOVE how the Spanish have institutionalised the afternoon power nap. It is the business! My power nap actually extended from about 6-9 (I think 3-5 is more common) at which time I woke up and had some malbec on the rooftop with Nick and Kelly before heading out to dinner around 10. This is totally the norm. Dinner 10ish and then out afterwards from about midnight. It is so commonplace to see primary school aged children out at dinner on a Wednesday night at 1am that you stop noticing it after a while. The tango shows, the bars etc don't really start til 12. Daily nanna naps are therefore entirely necessary.

Dinner was delicious pizza from Sr. Telmo. Because of the enormous italian heritage, Portenos do pizza (and italian food generally) very well. We shared an anchovy pizza (so good!) and some more Malbec. After dinner I went out to the Gibraltar Bar where the owner shouted me a vino blanco. I met some pretty fun portenos and carried on to about 2 practising my non-existent spanish and getting laughed at a lot. So that was my first full day.

Hmm.. I'm actually writing heaps. I guess cos I'm remembering out loud and doing the whole stream of consciousness thing that I do. Oh well, I've already apologised for being boring. Skim ahead etc etc

3. Walked dogs around Peru (beautiful paris-modelled tree-lined avenue), then scored a lift to Palermo. Here I checked out Palermo Chica (as in chic/smart), home of mega mansions and a lot of embassies. Then I walked down to the Jardin Japon (Japanese Garden – tranquil, serene, meditative) before heading to MALBA. I forget what the acronym stands for but it's a modern art gallery with a lot of latin american artists and it's AWESOME! It's normally about $10 to get in but because I'm living this charmed life over here, it happened to be free for students on this particular day. Sweet. They had an exhibition by Carlos Cruz-Diez (El Color en el espacio en el tiempo – I'm guessing this means colour in space and time) which I loved. I loved the whole gallery actually. Kickass.

Afterwards I walked around Palermo (which is massive) trying to get a feel for it and whether I would want to live here. As I walked, I chowed down on a bag of Arandanos (blueberries) which they have only recently started growing here but are available now everywhere cheaply and in plentiful supply. I then caught the bus to Belgrano accidentally (I got the right bus, but in the wrong direction) but it meant I could check out this leafy, hilly suburb for 20 cents and then I had the most amazing tour guide for my ride home – this LOVELY, impeccably groomed grandma who spoke excellent english and pointed out all the sights and explained the significance of a lot of buildings. Home. Siesta. Then out to Bar Dorego, a bar sitting on the Plaza Dorego in San Telmo, to meet Chris for a drink. Was joined by El briefly, before heading out to dinner at the gorgeous Rivas Cafe (piano-player, french-y interior, french-y food). Met some aussie friends of Chris' for a wine at La Brigada afterwards, then we all went back to Chris' place for a whisky nightcap whilst looking out over the Square. Good day.

Day 4. Walked dogs around Porta Madeira, a new area of BA that kindof has the feel of Melbourne's SouthBank about it. A lot of the new, modern Phillipe Starke-designed bars, restaurants and hotels are found here. Then it was time to do a bit of wheeling and dealing to score some polo tickets through an argentine website called mercado libre (free market). It's kindof like ebay. A guy promised to deliver the tickets in an hour, so we killed time by sunning ourselves on the rooftop terrace listening to this awesome CD of guns and roses songs done bossa nova style. Somehow it worked out and the guy actually delivered 5 legitimate tickets. Tick. Then Chris and Andy picked me up to take me out to see the polo at Pilar. Pilar is about an hour north of the city and it is like Polo Mecca. There are 300 + polo fields within a 100k radius. And they are all perfect. The most famous ranch is Ellerstena which was established by Kerry Packer. Old KP actually had a profound influence on polo since taking up the sport after one of his earlier heart-attacks. He even developed a special kind of grass that they use on the polo fields that regenerates quickly after the wear and tear of the horses hooves. When he died he left Ellerstena to the Pieras family who have continued to build upon the already formidable polo empire. We had a drive around the Ellerstena estate (it is enormous and perfect) and then went to Indiana to watch some Australians play a semi final in a local tournament. The two Aussies, Alex and George (Brothers-in-Law from Scone) were playing with 2 professional players; Rob Archibald, also an Aussie, and James Biems. The match finished in a draw which meant they advanced through to the final.

Side-note: the next few days are very polo-flavoured because a) the Argentina Open is on which is the biggest and best polo tournament in the world and b) almost everyone I have been put into contact with in BA is polo-affiliated. I have had a pretty intensive induction into the world of polo and now know a LOT about it. Crazy.

After the game we went for a drink at the Chapa Una Bar – a wooden-decked place that overlooks the polo fields that was built by the owner of the Chapa Una team and a former 10-goaler: Bautist Heguy. (Polo players are handicapped or graded – a 10 goaler is the best possible. I think australia's best player is around 7 or 8). I got home about 9, cooked myself some baked eggs with chorizo, tomatoes, chilli, white beans and coriander that I'd bought at the local fruit and veg market earlier that day. I was meant to go to the tango with John at 12 but we were both exhausted so decided to postpone that for another time. Crashed into bed.

5. I went for a run sin dogs around the ecologica reserva – giant nature reserve between san telmo and port madeira. I ran the 8km circuit, making friends along the way with someone called Frank Grimaldi. An Italian who moved to BA 14 years ago and is now a TV journalist here. I arrived back home and answered the door to find Daphne had come to visit me (Anna Mei put us in touch).. we went for breakfast ice-cream (my favourite!!) at Nonna Bianca – the best helado (gelato) in BA. Totally acceptable since I had just run 8km. Then we walked into the city to try and find an open phone-store and ATM for Daphne. No luck on the phone due to the public holiday. I also showed Daphne Cafe Tortoni, a famous and amazing and wonderful cafe that is super old and beautifully ornate. It's a tourist attraction but still a wonderful place to sit and sip on a cafe and nibble on a medialuna. I actually played tour guide to Daphne! Pretty funny after 5 days but I do feel like I know my way around quite well already. This is a photo of the narrowest house in Buenos Aires. The story goes that residents of the house on the left freed their slave and built the mega slim house next door for their slave to live in.

 Then it was home for me to frock up for the Polo final – La Dolphina v Ellestena. The match is held at Palermo Campo. I shared a cab in with Chris and El. I have never seen so many good-looking, well-dressed people in one location than at this event. It was incredible. After joking to one of El's friends that it was kindof novel to be at an event where I was guaranteed not to know anyone, I ran into someone I met a couple of times in Sydney. Yup.

The game was pretty amazing in terms of the skill-level on display. The players were all 10 and 9 goalers – the highest level in the world. I was cheering for Ellerstena due to the Australian connection but La Dophina totally outclassed their opponents, winning easily. At the end of the game, the crowd ran onto the field to celebrate with the players and ponies. Then the afterparty kicked on. Fun! Music, dancing, drinking and ridiculously hot men everywhere. I think I stayed til 11 or 12 then we went on to a large nightclub that I don't know the name of and danced until the sun came up. Big fun day.

6. Back out to Pilar to watch the aussie boys (Pinnacle) play their final. Home for early night and sleep catchup.

7. Run around Ecologica Reserva (9km – go me) with my new friend Frank, then walked the gambit of San Telmo markets: these are super popular and are on every sunday. They stretch the full length of Defensa. Vendors sell everything from handmade crafts, jewellery, shoes, souvenirs to dulce de leche and whacky toys. They were packed with tourists but still pretty cool. Then it was back to Palermo for more polo with team Pinnacle. I actually enjoyed this game the most – it was really tough and more physical. It was also closer. We were cheering for La Virgencita due to the fact that Biemsy (Britsh player) was playing with them. The boys actually spent the whole time perving on argentinian women and I spent the whole time perving on argentinian men. Sadly Biemsy's team lost by one-goal in controversial circumstances (horse and guy went down, everyone stopped playing, but one member of the opposition played on and scored a goal, even though it is gentlemans rules that you stop play. Boo!).

After a commiseratory drink, we jumped a cab for dinner at La Brigada – BA's premier steak restaurant. This place was the shit. The steak was like out of the Flinstones and was delicious! We also tried provoletta (grilled provolone cheese.. sooo good), grilled eggplants and capsicum, molleja (sweetbreads) and chorizo. Washed down with a fantasic pinot. Chris, his son and his girlfriend, plus El and her Dad came and ate dinner at the same place and we all went back to Chris' place to drink whisky. Home. Then rooftop rum and cokes in the jacuzzi. Not a bad way to end my first week in Buenos Aires.