I was definitely not having the best time here for the first few days. My last post reflects the earlier stages of my discontent, which definitely flared up on Friday when I went to a deli in the Soho-like district of town and wrote a scathing review of what I had learned so far in BA, which I will not transcribe. It was basically a long rant about how much I hated the sidewalks here (which, to my credit, really are shitty--literally, they're covered in dog shit--and have massive holes/cracks/loose tiles everywhere). Overall, I was just really frustrated by how big and fast the city is, and therefore how unwilling people in the restaurant biz are to listen to you butcher their language. The one positive thing I did note however, was that, from some casual observations, Argentinians are in fact quite good looking.
I dealt with all the stress of being here by sleeping. A lot. But my misery began to dissipate on Saturday when I talked with one of the other girls living in my apartment and she invited me out to a boliche (club). We started off the evening by going to the nicest, most expensive apartment I've ever seen, and probably will ever see, in my entire life, no exaggeration. It overlooks the Rio de la Plata and downtown/boliche central and houses a flat screen bigger than the wall in my room, among other fanciful furnitures. The boliche was... a boliche. I needed a stiff drink. I immediately ordered a gin and tonic, momentarily forgetting how much I hate gin. No pain, no gain, right? Anyway, I won't really go into describing the club, as it was pretty standard shit. Though, unlike in Montreal, where men just grab you from behind and you can scuttle away, here they talk to you and it's a bit harder to tell them to fuck off without being pretty blunt about it. I set a personal record that night for consecutive hours spent at a club: nearly 4! Woo. But the boliches don't really get hoppin' (as the cool kids say) until 2 and don't close til 6 or 7, so we turned in early and left around 5.
Sunday I went to this sweet bar with my other roommates and our neighbor (who also hosts other international students) and a bunch of her friends for a pre-Dia del Amigo dinner. They distribute board games to the tables, so we played a jumbo version of Jenga, wholesome fun! Is it still wholesome if your only concern about the tower falling is whether it will knock over your beer?
As it turns out, Dia del Amigo is basically an excuse for teenagers to go out to the parks and drink 40s and smoke and take myspace pics of each other and disperse their angst in public. But my friends and I took a nice, long 5 hour walk around the city, after which my lower back was so sore that when I got home I told Harold to put the casserole in the oven himself and bring me a tub of hot water for my feet, oy gavolt!
Some highlights:
The graffiti/street art in BA is siiiick
Inside El Cementerio de la Recoleta, comparable in fame to Père Lachaise in Paris. Where Eva Perón, one of the country's most beloved historical/political figures, is buried. "Le lloran como si se falleciera ayer"
La Flor de Metal--cierra al anochecer
That night we went to a local drum circle performance that goes on every Monday. And I had my first Colectivo (public buses) experience, which was definitely an experience. The buses here are unlike anything I've ever seen; I'll direct you to this article for more information: Riding as a Collective
Think Tam Tams atmosphere, only La Bomba del Tiempo (the group's name) is more about musicianship and less about just being stoned while banging a drum. I guess that's why it costs money. That being said, weed is certainly in no short supply, but the dancers aren't those hippie fools, man, they fuckin MOSH.
Then we went to a small, crowded cafe teatral and saw (arguably) the best member of La Bomba del Tiempo perform with two other drummers and a (very hot) man playing wooden xylophone.
Then this group reminiscent of the Klezmatics came on, and the crowd actually liked them even better.
So, it was nice to see a different side of Buenos Aires. I now have faith that I'll eventually really enjoy myself now that I've gotten to know the city a bit better (I've finally oriented the map correctly in my head...) Today it rained an assload, however, and I returned home with soggy socks and a new found hatred for my shitty umbrella.
Oh, and I nearly forgot: renewed enthusiasm and high hopes! (Facepalm.)
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