82 Liters

Recoleta Cemetery in Buenos Aires. Iconic, majestic, eerie. Final resting place (after many detours) for Evita’s remains. There is not a whole lot else for me to say about the cemetery, and we did not have a particularly notable visit, but don’t let the lack of words fool you – this requisite tourist stop is still a MUST. « Read the rest of this entry »

Here’s a crazy idea: let’s take a museum, switch the visiting hours from the day to the night, keep it open until 3:00 AM, and waive all admission fees.  Finally, let’s convince 100 other museums to simultaneously do the same.

My friend Javier came all the way from California for Night of the Museums

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I’m not sure how countries other than the US conduct the census, but we were surprised by the method employed in Argentina. There is a designated day where everyone stays home and literally waits to be counted. Since it fell on a Wednesday, Joe’s classes were lengthened by one hour all week to account for the lost day. We stocked up on food on a warning that all stores and restaurants would remain closed.

It turned out to be a sunny day and we enjoyed a run through our neighborhood and the “Parks of Palermo”. However, it was no ordinary census day. « Read the rest of this entry »

A good small town has enough to entertain, yet not so much to overwhelm or bring on guilt to accomplish all the “must dos”, with a downtown that is just right for covering in one afternoon to easily orient oneself. While in Buenos Aires, we searched for day trips and came across one such San Antonio de Areco, known for its small town charm and “gaucho” (Argentine cowboy) culture.

When I read that the annual festival coincided with one of our free weekends, I jumped at the chance to take advantage of our flexible schedule and good timing.

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The best thing about getting sick is that it’s a perfectly acceptable excuse to stay curled up inside your bed.  But when you’re thousands of miles away from your bed, in a bunk bed, sharing a hostel room with five strangers who are constantly entering and leaving the room, getting sick loses its benefits.

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Superclasico — the soccer match between the two most storied teams in Buenos Aires.  It’s listed as one of the 50 sporting things you must do before you die.  It happens only twice a year and we were fortunate enough to be in Buenos Aires at the right time.

I don’t think anyone in the US can quite understand the atmosphere this game generates.  In the US, crazy fans might yell and scream, maybe take off their shirts.  In South American futbol, fans bring giant drums, bed-sheet sized flags, and flares, and the entire stadium chants their team’s songs in unison.  That´s all expected for a typical game.

But for Superclasico, everything is raised a level.  « Read the rest of this entry »

Language is not my strong point.  After 4 years of high school spanish, I placed into the third week of spanish classes in Buenos Aires. (ok, high school was over ten years ago but still)  I felt up to speed on grammar and vocabulary, but behind  on speaking and listening  — probably a relic of the fact that my high school classes involved little to no speaking and were instead mostly fill-in-the-blanks and memorization.

Teacher presenting certificate at Joe's "graduation"

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