Restaurants, food, and memories....

Foods, like particular smells, and certain songs can trigger long forgotten memories. Reliving tastes of favorite foods I remember from childhood has been a highlight of a month in Buenos Aires. I don't remember  having the adventure of trying a different restaurant every day for a month. Arriving in Buenos Aires our routine has become breakfasts and light evening snacks in the apartment and a three course lunch in a restaurant at the customary 2 to 3 p.m.  - Argentine lunch hour.

I wanted to remember the names and highlights of lunches in about 30 different restaurants not to mention midmorning cafes which I have already blogged about. There was Bar Rodi, El Callao, Palacio de las Papas Fritas, La Estancia, Cafe Moliere, Sirop, Los Caballeros, Rosa Negra, La Madeleine, Cumana, and La Estacion in Tigre. The traditional Argentine menu, is grilled beef, pork, lamb, chicken, or merluza fish (an ocean fish that comes from Mar del Plata). You are offered a choice of either a lettuce and tomato salad (with oil and vinegar on the side) or potatoes such as French fries( papas fritas, crisper than any others in the world), mashed, boiled, or baked. Veggies other than squash and an occasional red or green pepper for garnish are not served often. There are no varieties of salad dressings, steak sauce, ketchup or other sauces to change the flavor of food and it would be unheard of to ask for that. This is a "meat and potato" culture which may sound boring but it's not because it's delicious. If you happen to be vegetarian there is always pasta which is as good anything eaten in Italy. Buenos Aires is famous for its varieties of delicious, light crusted pizzas. Drinks at lunch can be a glass of Malbec red wine, a Quilmes beer or agua con gas(sparkling water). For dessert the choice is flan (caramelized custard), budin de pan (bread pudding), helados (ice cream in exotic flavors such as maracuya or passion fruit), or ensalada de frutas (fruit salad of fresh apples, oranges, bananas and pears). I haven't even mentioned the European style confiterias or bakeries that make outstanding pastries and fancy cakes.

The menu ejecutivo which most all restaurants offer during the work week is a menu with choice of entree, main course, dessert, and drink for a set price that is as low as $10 per person in many places. Ordering off the regular menu will cost you more. Lunches are served with a basket of fresh crusty bread and bread sticks on a immaculately ironed white table cloth with a large cloth napkins. No skimpy paper napkins or formica table tops in this country! There is care given to the serving of the food and the presentation on the plate even if it's just a $10 meal. You can sit for as long as you like long after you've finished and dishes have been removed. The waiter never brings the check until you ask for it!

What makes dining in Buenos Aires such a special experience is the presentation of the food as well as the freshness of everything. Meats, vegetables, salads and desserts come straight from their source every day. No canned, frozen, or made in advance food in this country because preservatives are unheard of. Much of it is cooked on the parilla or the grill. My taste buds have come to life after a month of simple Argentine dining. The memories, too, have come alive as I savor the flan which was my favorite dessert as a child, or treat myself to an alfajor (a cookie sandwich with dulce de leche in the middle), or marvel at the papas fritas that I never eat at home because they are always soggy. Somehow the papas fritas in Argentina go down so easily you can't imagine they would have any calories at all!

The final culinary celebration in Buenos Aires was "high tea" at the Alvear Palace Hotel. Built in the 1930's and renovated in the 1990's, the Alvear Palace is still the most elegant, colonial hotel in Buenos Aires.  It was here when I was a child in the 1950's. The tea experience is one to add to my collection of unforgettable teas in elegant cities around the world. Waiters in red jackets and waitresses in gold vests wearing white gloves served tea from silver teapot. Pastries, tea sandwiches and scones were brought to the table on three tiered platters to be eaten on Vileroy & Boch pale green china. Soft live piano music in the background set the tone for the finest dining Buenos Aires can offer. We sipped tea and ate for two and a half hours. By the time we left, the tea room was full of well dressed Argentines doing the same as their dinner hour doesn't start till 9 or 10 p.m. at night.

Dining out in Buenos Aires has been fun but it's time to get back to my own cooking which isn't all that bad. What I shall miss is the freshness of natural foods which are harder to find and the memories I've enjoyed reliving my childhood through food.

Four seasons in a month....

When I get home to Vermont this week it will feel strange to think that I've experienced all four seasons in one month. My recent musings remind me that a month ago I left winter to land in Buenos Aires in summer. Now summer is past and there are signs everywhere that fall is here. Yet I am getting ready to head home this week to spring, which will most likely be more like winter in Vermont. It's a bit like "if it's Tuesday, it must be fall but on Friday it will be spring."

Living in places that have four seasons always brings the sense of anticipation of something new to look forward to. Argentina has four seasons. I think about how different it is walking the streets of Recoleta than it was just a few weeks ago when we arrived. The hot and humid days that I loved after winter have disappeared and I am welcoming cooler, fresh mornings and warm sunny days. There is now a blanket on the bed. When I look down from the third floor French windows onto the street I see school children wearing sweaters and pedestrians in light jackets. The women's "fashion show" , as I describe it, in this upscale Recoleta barrio, has changed. I see women have traded their glittery high heeled sandals for expensive leather flats or tall leather boots. Sleeveless tops have been replaced by long sleeved shirts, tailored jackets, and long sweater jackets, in darker colors. Shawls and ponchos are worn draped casually in the most stylish way.

Store window displays now have winter coats, ponchos, and boots and there are fewer LIQUIDACION or SALE signs because most summer things are gone. Beach tans are fading, and the carefree atmosphere of summer holidays has dissipated. The Arts section of the newspaper has the fall and winter theater and concert schedules. Travel agencies post winter beach getaways to far away places in the Caribbean or Club Med in Brazil. The futbol (soccer) season has begun with arch rivals Boca Juniors and River Plate, playing in Sunday games until the end of the year.

The pink blossoms on the palo borracho trees that looked so fresh a month ago have faded and are dropping. Argentina's ceibo trees with their picturesque red blossoms are less visible as they don't flower in late fall and winter. Soon the abundance of summertime green and shade from the trees will begin to change color and fall to the ground. These images are with me as I head into spring in the Northern Hemisphere this week.  

Reflecting on reunions...

"Is this Vicente Lopez? That's where we used to live...."

"I'm so curious if our house even exists anymore..."

"I lived up a hill, I think...."

"Look at all the new buildings...they weren't here when we were in school."

"Do you remember Paco's? " "Yeah...we used to go for ice cream after school."

"Are we at the school? Is this it? I remember when we went to the building in Belgrano. Were you there then? "

Conversations swirled around me on the charter bus from downtown Buenos Aires to the northern suburb of La Lucila and the American Community School. We were headed to the 75th reunion celebration of the founding of Lincoln School, now known as the American Community School. 

Having moved often and changed schools several times, I never wanted to attend a class reunion perhaps for fear I wouldn't know anyone. I did go to my 30th college reunion but remember having difficulty finding things in common with classmates I hadn't seen in years. I came away with the realization that the few friends I cared about in college, I was still friends with years later. The same thoughts came back to me at the ACS Open House event yesterday.

What makes the American Community School celebration different is that it is an international school with 75 years of graduates of many nationalities. There were at least 600 people who came to the Open House and reception and more than half had traveled from abroad (mostly the United States) to attend. There were graduates and teachers from 1936 to the present. A panel of alumni from different decades, spoke about their experiences and memories of ACS. The resounding theme for all was that the school was a safe haven regardless of race, religion, or nationality in spite of what was going on in the world. I heard people saying, 'there was no prejudice and no discrimination", over and over again. My Hungarian Argentine classmate who went 12 years to ACS said her parents sent her there because it was the only place in Buenos Aires where she would not encounter anti-Semitism. I had never realized this but maybe my liberal views of the world grew from my experiences right here.

The most frequently asked questions were "how long has it been since you've been back to Argentina?" or "is this the first time you've been back?" Suddenly I realized that returning to Argentina after 35 years, or even the 54 years since I was in elementary school, did not set me apart from anyone. Most of us were experiencing the same thing. Another prevalent question was "how long were you here for?" For some like me, it was only elementary school years, and for others it was till graduation from high school and every combination in between. The reunion prompted many siblings to get together to make the trip back to Argentina. I found myself talking with so many who said "have you met my sister or my brother? or "my sister said she was coming so I decided to come to."

When I started first grade in 1950, the Lincoln School was in a colonial style building in Belgrano. In 1954, the school moved to an estate along the Rio de la Plata with a large mansion (which is still called The Mansion and is the administrative building) and lots of land for athletic fields and playgrounds in a picturesque setting by the river. Lincoln merged with the American Community School and is now the American Community School. In my day, the Mansion housed classrooms, a lunch room and everything we needed during the course of the school day. Today ACS has a modern campus which includes a new gymnasium, an indoor/outdoor swimming pool, an elementary wing, a big Media Center, a Theater and everything else an elite private school offers. The campus still retains the sweeping views across the river and in the distance there is the skyline of Buenos Aires.

A reunion of American Community School alumni is more than just reconnecting with classmates. For extranjeros (foreigners) like me, coming back after many years triggers memories of a unique childhood in a far away country. Just being back in Argentina we find ourselves needing to search for the house or houses we lived in, the neighborhood we called "home" and the children outside of school we played with. We remember the maid or nanny who helped raise us, and the foods we loved like empanadas, alfajores, and dulce de leche. 

The blue and white Argentine flag with the sun in the middle seems as familiar as the stars and stripes we salute in the U.S. The tango music and Argentine folklore brings sudden tears to our eyes. My best friend from elementary school said to me, "I am reminded of, and see my mother here in Buenos Aires more than anywhere else." Her mother passed away two years ago. Certain Argentine expressions like hola pibes (hi, guys) or macanudo (great) remind me of my father who died recently. He spoke Spanish with such enthusiasm because he loved learning languages. He liked to communicate in Argentine slang just as the locals do and I hear him in my head as I walk the streets of Buenos Aires.

Because my family left Buenos Aires when I finished fifth grade, I did not remember specific classmates, teachers, or even classrooms at the school. However, for most of us who have come back to Argentina after many years, the experience of being together at this anniversary celebration is a validation that we really lived here. It suddenly doesn't seem so remote and distant. I sense that people are embracing the opportunity to let down and talk about their childhood in a way that they haven't been able to during their adult lives. This is what I'll remember for years to come.

Grocery shopping...fun?

One of the necessities of life that becomes routine is food shopping. Not so, when you leave home and exchange a 45 minute drive to the nearest large supermarket in Vermont, for a half block walk to the corner shops to buy what you need for your next meal in Buenos Aires. The novelty of carrying a shopping bag, money, and a key to the apartment to venture out on Calle Vicente Lopez to the shops is great fun.

A half block down is a colonial market building that dates back to 1900. Today there are small individual shops along the road in part of what used to be this large mercado. I have become a regular customer here. I love the bakery, Hausbrot, that sells nothing but whole wheat healthy breads and delicious fresh quiches made daily.

Next door, is the pasta shop which I now frequent. The first time there I had no idea how to buy  fresh pasta and sauce. I must have looked lost because a friendly customer came to my rescue. I told her I had no idea how much to buy for two people for one meal, and how long to cook it. Her instructions to buy 400 grams of tomato sauce (made fresh with real tomatoes, of course), and 400 grams of noodles and 100 grams of parmesan cheese were perfect. Just boil the pasta 4 minutes. Of course, I had to decide between about 12 different sizes and shapes of pasta and whether it should be white or spinach or made with egg. Then I saw the ravioles, cannelones, and the other choices of toppings from cream sauces to pesto to meat sauces. My first visit, I stuck to wide noodles and tomato sauce but I probably could chose something different every day for a month! We had one of the more delicious meals at home for 38 pesos or about 9 US dollars.

Beyond the pasta shop is a fiambreria, or delicatessen, with many varieties of expensive cheeses, cold cuts, olives, pickles, pimentos, and other condiments. If you are a meat eater, there is a butcher who will give you any cut of beef you like. Next door is the chicken and egg store which also sells duck. There are two fresh fruit and vegetable places. Everything in these shops is sold by the kilo so if you think in pounds you just have to guess. Across the street from these mercado shops there is the mouth watering Confiteria del Norte, a bakery with more fancy, cream filled cakes, cookies, pastries, breads, and ready made tea sandwiches than I have ever seen in one store. Every time I go in to browse, the stock never seems to lessen despite all the people that buy there all day long and late into the evening. I want to know who is eating all those pastries and goodies when I don't see a single overweight Argentine anywhere! Directly across the street from our building is a liquor store filled with Argentine wines.

There are two supermarket choices within a block and a half of our apartment. One is Carrefour which I used to shop at in Dubai. However, this one is not nearly as elegant although handy for paper products, soap, milk, crackers, eggs, yogurt, cereal, bottled water and wines. A block in the other direction is the more upscale Disco, that seems slightly pricier. Both deliver your groceries for a small fee. This explains the dozens of white plastic crates that are stacked up high in the entrance to both supermarkets. Once you go through the checkout with your items, a grocery boy will put them in a numbered crate and stack it along with others going in the direction of where you live. You get a number and then leave. It is a bizarre to see groceries in stacked crates being pushed around on these busy city streets. However, it surely beats pushing a cart out to the parking lot and lifting grocery bags into the trunk of your car, when you can walk out empty handed knowing your groceries will come to your door later. Pretty nifty. Supermarkets are open long hours, seven days a week, but small food shops close at noon on Saturdays and do not open again till Monday mornings.

I have to remind myself that if I lived here all the time, food shopping would become a chore just like it is everywhere else in the world. However, right now I am savoring the fun of doing it in a totally different way...not to mention the fact that all I've just described is delicious.

Tourist or not?

Every guidebook and list of recommended sights for Buenos Aires includes the Cafe Tortoni on Avenida de Mayo 825 in the heart of the city. Sometimes I steer clear of such places because I don't want to just do "the tourist thing" when I'm abroad. I get carried away imagining that I'm not a tourist because I grew up in Argentina and lived in South American countries for many years, This surely entitles me to a different category than what the label "tourist" connotes. Of course, this is all in my own mind because when I open my mouth in fluent Spanish, but not yet having perfected the Argentine accent, most natives are not sure who I am or where I come from.

With ten days left in Buenos Aires we headed to Cafe Tortoni, for an 11:30 a.m. cafe con leche y sandwich de miga (ham and cheese on white crustless bread). Everywhere you look, from the sign over the front door to the specially engraved plates and cups you are reminded that this the cafe dates back to 1858. By the looks of the inside it hasn't changed much in the 20th nor the 21st centuries. There is no one surfing the Internet and no WiFi signs on the door. Instead, well worn, leather upholstered chairs with arms and small round marble-top tables are placed among sturdy columns that hold up a high ceiling decorated in vitraux (stained glass). The interior is wall papered and wood paneled covered from eye level to ceiling with photos, caricatures, paintings, cartoons of famous Argentines who have come here over centuries. In the center is a bar made of dark wood. An old fashioned elaborately carved metal cash register sits at one end along with a bright Tiffany lamp. The faded and slightly uneven tile floors look like they haven't been replaced since the nineteenth century. Waiters in short black jackets, bow ties, and long striped aprons bring you the menu of mostly drinks and snacks. The cafe is open from breakfast to 2 a.m.

At midday we watched the tourists start to arrive. Disappointing and yet not surprising that in such an historical place there should be more tourists than Argentines. The tourists are those that carry cameras, are overweight, dressed in shorts and running shoes - the outfit that screams comfort over style. When I'm going about in this city I can easily pick out the Argentines from everyone else as they are never overweight and stylishly attired - women with sparkly sandals or latest fashion flats, linen slacks and cool summer print top or perhaps a short skirt with an expensive t-shirt and all the right accessories including scarf and a leather bag thrown casually over a shoulder.

The Tortoni is a museum preserving photos, books and writings of famous politicians, writers, thinkers, educators who have spent time here. In the back of the main part of the Cafe are several other salons. One is where they have Tango Shows starting at 8:30 p.m. in the evening and where you must book a table. Another room we wandered into is literally stuffed with memorabilia in no particular order, but all saved from decades past. I came across a photo, letter and press coverage of Hilary Clinton's unannouced visit to Tortoni in 1997 when she wrote "what a treat to visit a place so full of history and enjoy the ambience and the delicious meal. Thank you..." Carlos Gardel, the most famous of all Tango singers is immortalized with a bust that sits apart from the many others. There are photos, letters and publications of dramatists Luigi Pirandello and Federico Garcia Lorca, pianist Arthur Rubinstein, writer Jorge Luis Borges. All names I know.

Knowing who all the other personalities are is an impossible task and reminds me that I am a foreigner. Of course, I learned much about Argentina's historical heroes in my school textbooks years ago. Fifty five years later I cannot identify many of the people memorialized at the Tortoni. I guess that places me back to being the tourist that I didn't really want to be...

Biking in Buenos Aires

Touring Buenos Aires on a double decker bus or walking is one thing. Traversing a big city on a bike? That took some thought before opting to give it a try. It was the lure of the cloudless skies and mid-seventies temperatures, the adventure of trying something new, and our love for biking that pushed us to do it.

We walked to Plaza San Martin to meet Bike Tours Buenos Aires. With several "routes" to choose from which go twice a day in the morning and the afternoon, we opted for the "Recoleta and Palermo" one. It was Sunday morning which seemed like a quieter day to go biking on what are usually busy Buenos Aires streets and on the bike paths in Parque Palermo. Bikes are provided - no gears necessary as the terrain is totally flat. Helmets, water, and a guide are part of the package. We set out with Jaime in a bright yellow jacket as our guide. One other young couple, tourists from Sao Paulo Brazil joined us. Jaime spoke perfect English but after having to translate for the Brazilians we all settled on Spanish which Brazilians can function in and we can understand perfectly.

The route begins at the statue of Jose de San Martin, "the liberator" of Argentina, who is as important an historical figure as George Washington. I did not realize that in addition to exercise we'd get a complete history along the biking route stopping at all the well known monuments, buildings, and sights. We did set off on Avenida Libertador which is at least 10 lanes wide however, there is a small section designated as a bike path. Jaime told us that bike paths in the city are a very new phenomenon and only finished in the past several years. He also alluded to the fact that drivers and even pedestrians are still not that aware of their use being solely for bicyclers.

As a group of five cyclers we managed well with Jaime in the lead continually checking on us to make sure we crossed the wide avenues when necessary with no one left behind. Argentine drivers are not respectful of pedestrians much less bicyclers even at designated crossings at stop lights. It only seems to be when an Argentine is behind the wheel of a car, bus, or truck that he is in a hurry. All others in the city that are not driving live life at a very tranquil pace.

As we biked north and east of the port area and the Rio de la Plata we were in the largest and the greenest Buenos Aires suburb known as Palermo. It is also the most upscale area with million dollar homes built close together on shady quiet back streets, that date back to the early twentieth century. Many were bought years ago and are still used as foreign embassies and ambassador residences. We rode past the American Ambassador's residence which is in the exact location where it was in the 1950's when I lived here. I remember being taken to Christmas parties and 4th of July celebrations at the embassy residence over fifty years ago.

Palermo was so large that as it grew it was divided into Palermo Chico, Palermo Soho, Palermo Hollywood, Alto Palermo, and Palermo Viejo . Not only are there elegant homes but large avenues lined with expensive apartment buildings that are 20 stories high, very large well kept parks, the Botanical Gardens, the Zoo, as well as the Palermo Race Track built in the mid 1800's and an elegant Polo Club with a manicured grass polo field used for polo matches later on in the year.

Sunday morning the streets in the center of Palermo park district are closed to traffic during the day so that residents can enjoy the park for outdoor activities. From our bikes, we saw Argentines of all ages jogging, roller skating, bicycling, walking, picnicking, feeding the ducks in the big lake and simply enjoying the outdoors. We saw women of all ages walking around in bright melon colored T-shirts that said La carrera de las chicas (Women's race). Later we read in La Nacion newspaper that 5,000 women had participated in a 5 km. race through the park organized by Nike along with the Argentine Heart Association. I would have signed up just to get the classy T-shirt!

El Rosedal or El Jardin de las Rosas or the Rose Garden is the centerpiece and highlight of Bosques de Palermo or Palermo Woods area of the park. We stopped for a 15 min. break, parked the bikes, and walked the winding red gravel paths through more than 5,000 different rose bushes and 1200 species of roses in every imaginable color. To come upon this in the middle of Palermo is a complete surprise and reminiscent of the magnificent rose gardens in England. The rose garden was designed by the French landscaper Carlos Thays (who designed many of the major plazas, botanical gardens and zoo) in 1914. The garden is bordered on one side by a beautiful lake with geese and ducks and small boats. A large white Grecian style bridge goes across the lake and provides the entry way to the rose gardens. The garden is maintained by the municipality of Buenos Aires and is pristine with freshly painted benches, many waste receptacles and immaculate restrooms. It is like the gem in the center of the entire Palermo area which covers 7 square miles.

Jaime stopped at several more of the significant statues along the way including another San Martin, one of Evita Peron, Carlos Pellegrini, and Bartolome Mitre, a former president of Agentina. We headed back to Recoleta by the famous cemetery and church which we now consider our "home" neighborhood. Then along streets we walk daily, crossing the 20 lane widest Avenida 9 de julio to the plaza where we had started. The three and a half hour bike ride around Buenos Aires on a Sunday morning has become one of the highlights of our month long visit in Buenos Aires. How could we have even hesitated to think that a bike tour might not be the another way to be view a city?

Time for "un cafecito"...

Walking the streets of downtown Buenos Aires I notice that there are more coffee shops than gas stations. I've also concluded that cafes are strategically positioned on corners so that people coming from all directions can walk right in for a refill, a rest, but mostly for what I think of as a graceful pause to the day. The art of coffee drinking at all hours of the day is highly practiced and comes from the European tradition established in the early twentieth century when portenos (people from the port city of Buenos Aires) were looking to pattern themselves after the French.

At first it was confusing as to what to ask for and what I would get. I looked around to see people sipping small black coffees in demi-tasse cups while others were having cafe cortado in a slightly larger cup with frothed milk. A cafe grande or cafe americano comes in what I consider a regular sized cup and capuccinos are served in elegant tall glass cups with chocolate sprinkled on top. It is all expresso, no matter what you order. No drip coffee pots sitting on warmers losing their freshness as we have in the U.S. It is all made fresh to order with the expresso coffee machine. A waiter, dressed in black pants, neat white shirt with a tie, takes your order. Within minutes you have your cafecito along with condiments and a tiny glass of agua con gas( sparkling water).

If you are in a more elegant cafe such as the one I was in the other day at the Museum of Decorative Arts you also get a small cookie or biscotti to accompany your coffee. If you are in a regular cafe on any street in downtown B.A. you can also indulge in one or two fresh media lunas, which is Spanish means half moons. We call them croissants but the Argentine ones taste as if they just came out of the oven, puffy and fresh. The waiter may ask you if you want them con manteca which I have learned means the sweeter ones. It is hard to say no to media lunas.

People of all ages frequent coffee shops. I see many older people and lots of women stopping mid morning for a break and a coffee. Men gather in coffee shops and later in the day you see people of all ages having their merienda or late afternoon snack when we Americans might be heading home for supper. It is part of a way of life. I like the way people take time for this ritual in their daily lives.

No one walks down the street drinking out of styrofoam cups nor do they sit at their desks sipping coffee from the office coffee pot. If you are at work and want a coffee you call the nearest Cafe on corner and a waiter will deliver one to you in a real cup on a tray! He will come back later to collect the dirty dishes. It is not unusual to see trays going down the street with fresh cafecitos especially in the mornings.

There is an art to a slower pace of life and taking time in your day to stop for a coffee is a good example. The Europeans have done it for centuries and the Argentines have simply followed suit.

Biking in Colonia, Uruguay

The differences between Uruguay and Argentina, despite being close neighbors, have always been noticeable but the change from big city Buenos Aires to small town Colonia del Sacramento, Uruguay is most welcome for a day. The trip to Colonia across the Rio de la Plata takes one hour by the BuqueBus high speed ferry which leaves from the busy port area in Buenos Aires. The ferry boats carry cars as well as passengers. You are asked to arrive an hour early in order to check in and go through immigration which is all well organized. Once seated on the ferry, it's a quick trip until you get to Colonia, a quiet town across the river. Colonia was declared a Unesco World Heritage Site in 1996.

Colonia del Sacramento, as it was called when it was originally established as a settlement on the river by the Portuguese in 1680, has become a respite for tourists from Buenos Aires as well as wealthy Argentines wanting to get away to the beach. The ferry boat, Atlantida III, was full and yet many of the passengers were going on by land BuqueBus to Montevideo and Punta del Este and other cities in Uruguay. Colonia is on the western side of Uruguay whereas the ocean beaches that are famous are on the eastern coast, another 180 km. away.

Arriving in Colonia you notice the quiet. There is a fresh breeze coming from the river with trees that shade the old cobblestone streets and you breathe the air and find yourself slowing down. Despite the guidebook recommendations to head to the old city and the museums, we found ourselves drawn to the bicycles lined up across the street. Within a half hour, we had had a nice chat with Mercedes who runs a bike shop, rented two brand new mountain bikes with 20 gears for a mere $9 for both of us for two hours. Armed with a map of Colonia we headed out of town to the Rambla Costanera, the wide street that follows the coastline. The terrain is flat with just a few slight inclines and very little traffic on this road that follows a bay. In fact there are no stop and go lights at all in Colonia and only a few faded Pare (Stop) signs here and there near the center of the city. Once on the Rambla you just ride and ride. We passed Spanish style homes overlooking the river made of white stucco with red tiled roofs and well kept gardens with lots of pampa grass like plumes that sway gracefully in the breeze. There are several new looking Posadas or hotels as you ride along but it's all very wide open with a great sense of space.

As we biked along on a perfect sunny day without a cloud in the sky, there was some road work and we found a wide sidewalk area that we ended up using as a bike path which seemed safer. Many tall eucalyptus trees line the Rambla on the beach side and as I sailed past them, I caught a whiff of their pungent odor which always reminds me of my early years in Chile, Argentina, and Uruguay. As we sailed along we had views of the white sand beaches which are very clean. Much of the white sand is trucked in because river beaches have a darker mix of sand that is not so aesthetically pleasing. Where you expect to see blue sparkling water you see brown river water instead. Many people swim in the Rio de la Plata, and we did as children in Buenos Aires. Today they say swimming in the river is fine in Uruguay but not in and around Buenos Aires as it is no longer clean.

At the end of the Rambla Costanera we came to a new development of large vacation homes built around a golf course and a large, fancy Sheraton Hotel which opened in 2005 and sits on a point in the river. From there you can look across to the town of Colonia. A capuccino in the elegant coffee shop of the Sheraton and a quick look around at the vacationers lazing by the pool and we were on our way again biking back to the port area. Turning in our bicycles after an exhilarating morning, we walked the six blocks to the Old City of Colonia.

I kept an eye out spotting a few old cars here and there. I remember living in Uruguay for a year, in 1969 and there were old cars everywhere that were kept running by creative mechanics. No new cars were made or imported into the country then. Now, many years later, automobile collectors around the world have bought and taken them away and except for a few here and there, there are not many left. . I spotted a red VW bug just like my 1970 one that I drove in Vermont, in perfect condition parked on a street in Colonia.

The Old City of Colonia, which the guidebooks say has changed little since colonial days, is a charming area to walk around. Streets wind up and down towards the river and you have to watch your step on the old cobblestones but there is very little traffic. Several of the small plazas are charming with flowering bougainvillea and more of the palo borrachos with the pink blossoms that you see in Buenos Aires this time of year. The town is full of tourists of all nationalities, many outdoor restaurants, arts and crafts stores, and small museums. We settled into an outdoor restaurant to order fresh fish and salad for lunch and a have a rest.

Being in Colonia reminded me so much of why I loved Uruguay. The people are different from Argentines and especially the portenos (the city people from Buenos Aires). Uruguayans are friendlier, more down to earth, less sophisticated, and more humble. I found myself watching and listening to them as we walked the streets. They sip mate (strong herbal brew) just as the Argentines do and they are simply happy with a slower pace of life. Going into a few shops in Colonia including my favorite store from Montevideo called Manos del Uruguay (a woman's cooperative that has been in business for 44 years) the shop girl just wanted to please.

Back at the port, we checked in again for the ferry boat to return to Buenos Aires. Art misplaced his entry ticket from the morning and the lady at immigration simply shrugged, smiled in a friendly way and said "no importa", which I took to be the Uruguayan way.

Remembering Evita Peron...

I was almost eight years old, living in Argentina the winter that Evita Peron died of cancer at the age of 33, on July 26, 1952. My Spanish textbooks were full of lecturas (readings) about Evita Peron and her good works. She was Santa Evita for the Argentine working class people. Portraits of Evita smiling angelically alongside her husband, Juan Peron, hung everywhere in buildings throughout Buenos Aires as if she were royalty. The day she died and for several days afterwards, everything in Buenos Aires stopped. Our school was closed, there was nothing on the radio except mournful music, long speeches praising Evita, and reports of the lines of people waiting to see her body lying in state. Downtown Buenos Aires was thronged with people and funereal flowers reminiscent of Princess Diana's funeral. I was not downtown and yet I remember the sense of gloom and quiet that descended eerily in the suburbs where we lived.

We decided to visit the Eva Peron Museum this week. Perhaps I thought it might trigger the memories of that long ago time when I was a child living through this historical event. The Evita Museum is housed in a mansion built in the Italian Renaissance style in the early 20th century in upscale Palermo district. Today it is considered a National Historical Monument but in the late 1940's under Evita Peron it was bought and used as a shelter for homeless women and children. Evita's grandniece, Cristina Alvarez Rodriguez, inaugurated this site as the Evita Museum in Buenos Aires in 2002, exactly fifty years after her great aunt's death.

Eva Peron has been popularized throughout the world because of the musical show and film about her life. What makes visiting this museum unique is that there is original black and white film footage of Evita as a young woman during her acting career in Argentine films from 1934 to 1945, and later addressing the people of Argentina from the balcony of the Casada Rosada (the Pink House) just as I remember seeing her on our first television set. There is also news coverage of Evita lying in state and the massive state funeral that took place in Buenos Aires in 1952. In addition there are showcases full of her elegant dresses, hats, and shoes that she wore throughout her short life as First Lady of Argentina, a few photos and many quotes from the book she wrote about her life, La razon de mi vida (Evita: In My Own Words).

What is striking being in Buenos Aires right now is that the government and the President, Cristina Fernandez de Kirchner, are peronistas which is the leftist people's party founded by Juan Domingo Peron in the 1940's. One evening, while watching local television news, all stations were preempted for a speech by "Cristina", as she is called, from the Huracan Stadium in Buenos Aires. She was addressing about 60,000 Argentine supporters and workers and invoking the exact emotional rhetoric used by Evita. Although not blonde, but a dyed redheaded middle aged woman, Cristina seemed to be embellishing her speech to the nation with similar gestures taken from those Evita used so long ago. Her aligning herself with this movement of the 1940's and 50's is deliberate. There is a unique poster that caught my eye, near the Casa Rosada (see photo at the beginning of the blog) of Evita Peron superimposed on the balcony next to President Cristina Fernandez de Kirchner.

It is fascinating to be here at a time when it seems that history is repeating itself. The newspapers are full of comparisons between Cristina and Evita and it remains to be seen what impact the legacy of Evita will have in the upcoming October presidential election and what the future holds for Argentine politics.

Views of Buenos Aires...

Sometimes when visiting a big city like Buenos Aires (population 12 million) you get a better sense of everything by taking a tour such as the Buenos Aires Bus Tour. We were familiar with a similar tour in Dubai but the Argentine buses seemed even newer and cleaner. A day ticket costs 70 pesos ($17 US) which allows you to get off at any of the twelve designated stops and then get back on again at any point. The B.A. Bus Tour is a good example of how far the Argentines have come in becoming better organized for tourism. The bus was full and the majority of tourists all over B.A. seem to be Brazilians.

Each seat on the bus has a set of headphones and a choice of listening to the "tour" in any of 10 languages including Japanese, Hebrew, Chinese, and even Arabic! In spite of the hot sunny day, we climbed to the second level where there was a breeze as we rode taking in the aerial view that allows you to see much more than when walking the city streets. Throughout the route that the bus follows you are continually aware of the very large, old trees such as the palo borrachos which now have pink blooms, the jacarandas with their purple flowers, the sauces (weeping willows), the eucalyptus trees, and the enormous gomeros (rubber trees), that line the streets of Buenos Aires. In some areas when going down narrow streets the trees formed an archway of shade and we had to duck underneath tree branches.

You quickly become aware that Buenos Aires is a planned city and each part of it was developed differently. The elegant suburbs of Palermo have charming streets that wind around in semi circles while the downtown area is laid out in a straight north and south plan somewhat like Washington D.C. The Rio de la Plata is a way to orient yourself to the eastern side where the big port areas are. From a double decker bus you notice that Buenos Aires has narrow streets as well as some of the widest avenues in the world. Traveling down Avenida Libertador in Palermo which goes for 30 km out to the northern suburbs, I counted nine lanes in one direction while Avenida 9 de Julio (named after Argentine independence day) is even wider with at least fifteen to twenty lanes. I learned that there are 23 small squares along Avenida 9 de Julio which represent each of the 23 Argentine provinces. In addition the species of trees planted along the length of this wide avenue were chosen for the time of year that they bloom such as the palo borrachos that are in blossom right now.

The city is full of lush green parks and smaller plazas in every neighborhood Whether large or small, every parque or plaza has magnificent statues commemorating Argentine war heroes or famous people who were important in Argentine history. B.A. is truly a city of unique statuary designed by well known European sculptors from the early twentieth century. The streets in the downtown area around Avenida 9 de Julio are named after Latin American countries, cities, towns and rivers for example Calle Uruguay, Calle Mexico, or Calle Parana. The main avenues are named after historical heroes, politicians, and generals. So that when you begin exploring Buenos Aires you feel very much like you are living in geography and history book.

Riding through the city you can't miss the political grafitti which is evident on every wall and on most public buildings. Such slogans as La ciudad elige Cristina - orgullosamente peronista. (The city elects Cristina - proudly a member of the Peronista party) or Aumento, Salario Hoy, Libre Hambre (Raise salaries today and bring freedom from hunger). Politics is very much a part of people's lives here and always has been. Right now there is a Peronista government in power that supports the workers and evokes the image and name of Evita Peron constantly. Other empty outdoor wall space is covered with posters advertising cultural events or supporting politicians.

The European facades of many buildings make this city unique in South America. Our apartment building (see photo) in Recoleta is a perfect example of this. The rod iron decorative detail on windows and balconies and the French doors and sculptured exteriors are reminiscent of the finest European architecture. In the early twentieth century there was a "golden age" of great wealth in Argentina and portenos (as B.A. residents are called because they live in a port city) went to Europe frequently. Buenos Aires was just being developed at the time and the Argentines wanted to create their own Paris. Much of the architecture and building materials were brought by ship from France and the city took on the European look which is evident today. B.A. is not a city of skyscrapers and most buildings do not exceed ten floors with the exception of the very new modern glass buildings that have been built recently along the very upscale Puerto Madera area in what used to be the old port.

The downtown city streets are full of traffic including many newer city buses now in bright blue, green, or red and clearly marked with their destination which replaced the old colectivos that used to belch black smoke. Downtown city streets abound with black and yellow radio taxis, and the smaller new automobiles that the middle and upper classes now afford. However, surprisingly the traffic seems organized as people stay in designated lanes, stop for traffic lights, and do not drive as aggressively honking their horns the way they used to. Certainly Buenos Aires is much more orderly than it used to be in the 1950's even with more traffic and there is no comparison to the congested cities of Southeast Asia that we are familiar with or the wild reckless driving we experienced in Dubai. Buenos Aires even has a metro system called the Subte but we have yet to try it out preferring to stay above ground for the moment.

For me, Buenos Aires is still a charming city after many years. I love the beautiful trees, the parks, the distinctive Argentine accent, the European architecture, the tango music, and the sophisticated style of living. Yes, it has grown and changed. However an aspect that never changes is a strong sense of Argentine nationalism. Argentines still remain committed to their European heritage and do not aspire to be anything else.

Beyond Borders...

As a librarian and a lifelong reader I have  frequented bookstores all my life. However, never have I been to two such unique ones as I spent time in today in downtown Buenos Aires. I had read that Argentina is a very literate country where reading is still popular and that is confirmed simply by noticing all the bookstores everywhere you go in this city.

First, we went to El Ateneo, marketed as the largest bookstore in South America. It was started 11 years ago in a refurbished theater on fashionable Avenida Santa Fe about six blocks from our apartment. You enter what was once the foyer of the theater where they now have current book displays and checkout desks on either side where there were ticket booths. The main floor of the bookstore is where the orchestra seats would have been and as you look up you can see three levels of balconies and an enormous, beautifully painted rotunda ceiling. All is as it would be if you were at the opera or theater except that the main floor is furnished with book cases and neat signs indicating what subject areas you are in. Straight in front of you is the stage which has been left completely as it was, and now is a cafe serving snacks and drinks and coffees. On either side of the stage are boxes where you might have paid extra to sit close and watch a performance. Today you can pick up a stack of books and settle yourself comfortably in a box seat to read as long as you like.

We headed up the steps of the stage and settled at a small wooden table. A waiter came to take our order for two cafes con leche. This gave us time to simply sit and look all around and marvel at the environment we found ourselves in. Two small coffees came right away served with a light wafer and two glasses of water. The facade of the balconies is quite elaborately sculptured with lots of gold trim. I noticed several large banners hanging from the third balcony answering some of the questions that immediately come to mind when you come to this bookstore. One banner said Desde el 2000 este local realiso 12.000.000 de visitas. ( Since 2000 there have been 12 million visitors to this location. Another banner read, El Guardian selcciono esta libreria como una de las mas lindas del mundo. (The Guardian chose this bookstore as one of the most beautiful in the world.)

One banner read, Carlos Gardel hizo sus grabaciones en este lugar. (Carlos Gardel made his first recordings in this place). And finally another banner listed the most popular items purchased in the past ten years which included El codigo Da Vinci (The DaVinci Code), 40 obras de Piazzola (40 works by Piazzola) and El secreto de sus ojos (The Secret in their Eyes, a popular Argentine crime thriller than won Best Foreign Film of 2009).

After coffee we went up to the second balcony to find textbooks on one side and specialized nonfiction books such as gardening, science and other such topics on the other. Climbing the wide winding and carpeted staircase to the third balcony brought us to a huge collection of DVD films on one side and CD classical music on the other. From the third balcony you can look down and get an aerial view of the entire bookstore and it's simply magnificent. Looking down I realized there is a level below the main floor and before leaving we went to explore that. An escalator in the center of the bookstore takes you to the lower level which is called "Ateneo Junior" which is the Childrens' and Young Adult departments as well as popular music CD's. The Childrens' section was very large and beautifully decorated with a three dimensional mural covering three walls with all kinds of wild animals painted in bright colors. The floor is carpeted in a a light blue A,B,C, carpet with letters of the alphabet. It is as inviting as any children's department of any new large public library or big bookstore in the U.S.

Back on the main floor we were drawn to a display of tango CD's near the front entrance and found we could choose several, go to a kiosk, scan the bar code, put on headphones and listen, before we chose one to buy. It all worked beautifully. I noticed plenty of people working in the bookstore that were extremely helpful. There are no prices on most of the books. To verify the price of anything there are automated computers with bar code scanners. You simply scan the bar code of the your book to get the price in pesos. We tore ourselves away after several hours of browsing having picked up a CD of tango music and an illustrated little gem of a book in Spanish about the history of the bandoneon and the tango in Argentina. I do have my eye on some other things but luckily we have lots of time to go back again.

Two blocks away from El Ateneo on the busy Avenida Callao is another gem of a bookstore called Clasica y Moderna but it is totally different. We almost walked past it until we stopped at a large dark wooden door. We expected to step in to a book shop but instead found ourselves in a charming restaurant with tiled floors and brick walls, neat small tables with white tablecloths and napkins, and a grand piano in a corner with an older man playing tango music. In back of the restaurant is a glassed in two story area where we found a small but wonderful book shop of only literary and political books for adults.

As it was one o'clock which is early lunchtime in Argentina, we decided to order lunch and savor this totally different venue. A waiter seated us and brought us the menu. The fixed menu ejecutivo of an appetizer, main course, dessert or coffee was priced at 42 pesos which is $10.50 US . It turned out to be one of the best meals we've eaten in Buenos Aires starting with slices of onion and ham and cheese quiche, followed by juicy baked chicken with a white potato and a baked sweet potato. For dessert we chose helados de Sambayon and Frutilla or sambayon (a liquor) and strawberry ice cream. As we sat and leisurely enjoyed it all, the 20 or so tables filled up quickly with two waiters were efficiently handling them all. The pianist continued playing without taking a break.

I like the way Argentines stop for a long leisurely lunch and that has become our custom here in Buenos Aires. We noticed tables of well dressed women having a luncheon together with a bottle of wine and other tables with men in suits taking a lunch break from work. I can't help but notice the waiters in this country. As I have mentioned before, it's a men's profession but I have never been waited on with such efficiency, politeness, and confidence. It is considered a profession here and most men that do it for a lifetime and take the job very seriously.

After lunch we explored the bookstore for a short while and learned that what the Clasico y Moderno is noted for is the evening entertainment. Every evening starting around 9:30 p.m. to 10 p.m. you can book a table to go hear a particular entertainer at this small restaurant. I learned that you buy a ticket to reserve a table and then you must spend a minimum amount either for a dinner or perhaps for drinks or even coffee and dessert. They feature Argentine singers, as well as small groups playing music. We may do that one evening if we can stay up that late!

We came home after lunch for siesta time enchanted by the two different bookstores we had visited. Opening the daily newspaper La Nacion today there was yet another article about the Nobel Prize Winner, Peruvian writer Mario Vargas Lllosa. He has been in the news this past week as he has been asked to be the keynote speaker at the largest Argentine Book Fair which opens in April. Llosa comments in this article that "Buenos Aires, es con Paris, la ciudad mas literaria del mundo. (Buenos Aires, along with Paris, is the most literary city in the world).

A childhood friend 54 years later...

What makes returning Buenos Aires, Argentina so special is reconnecting with friends I haven't known about for over fifty years. I was overwhelmed today when I met Teeny ( a nickname for Cristine when she was very young and still goes by) for the first time since we were twelve years old in 1957. She and I are exactly the same age. We never wrote, lost touch, and when I knew I was coming back to Buenos Aires, I decided I needed to see her. I contacted two of her cousins in the U.S. and searched Facebook until I found her. Teeny Harris Smith is now Teeny Abella, married to Argentine Jaime Abella, mother of four children, and grandmother of ten grandchildren - soon to be eleven!

As coincidences happen, Teeny lives three blocks from the apartment in Recoleta that we are renting. I waited in front of our building wondering if I would recognize her. As I looked up the street, a tall blonde woman waved to me and there was Teeny. We hugged and she said "you look just the same". I don't think I could say that of her. Teeny is an attractive, very tanned (after a summer in Punta del Este, Uruguay, where they own a beach apartment), with a physique that tells you she is a natural athlete. Teeny was a "tomboy" when she was a little girl and always out playing with the boys in our neighborhood. She loves sports and does them all well having been a golfer and tennis player. Now she walks and bikes just like I do. We spoke in English during our visit although she thinks her English is rusty as she speaks only Spanish with her Argentine husband and children. She was raised speaking English in an Anglo Argentine family and her ancestry is pure Anglo Saxon. She had an English and an American grandmother. In reality she has not lost any of her English and speaks in a deep, warm voice with only a slight British accent. Occasionally she will ask "how do you say that in English?" . She is a graduate of Northlands, an exclusive British girls school in B.A. while her brothers went to St. Johns, the boys' school. Her older brother Anthony, later went to Dartmouth College in the U.S. and came to visit us in the early 1960's when my family lived in Washington D.C.

Teeny drove us out to the suburbs as she had promised to show me the street we lived on when we were children. I grew up on 335 Balcarce St. and her house was directly across the street at 330 Balcarce. We spent our childhoods in and out of each others houses. She had two brothers, and so did I and the six of us lived mostly at our house in our backyard. We were the Americans on the block having our supper at 6 p.m. when Teeny and her brothers were having tea, and we were always the first ones to have to go to bed. We went to the American school. 

I discovered that Calle Barcarce is now Calle Felipe Julianes a small street still only two blocks long. In the 1950's, you drove down Avenida Aguirre which is now Avenida Libertador and turned right towards the river to get to our house. I never would have found it again. Fifty years is a long time and all has changed. Teeny parked on our street, and when I got out to look at the house at 335 I struggled to find anything at all familiar. There was almost nothing I recognized except perhaps the window above the garage which was my little bedroom. The orange trees that lined Balcarce are gone and when I mentioned that, Teeny reminded me her mother used to make orange marmalade from those inedible oranges. Our house, although still brick, no longer looks the same and has been totally renovated and added on to. Teeny's white stucco house across the street looked more familiar. We took pictures and then walked up and down the street as our conversation turned into "do you remember....?" We reminisced about our neighbors and the children we played with . I wrote about that in my essay that I included in this blog - Growing up on Balcarce 335 .

Teeny lived at 330 Balcarce till she was 20 after graduating from Northlands School and spending a year in Switzerland at a finishing school. By then she had met Jaime Abella in Punta del Este and just before she was 21 she married him and moved out to the "estancia" he inherited from his father. The first years of her married life she lived on their 3,700 acre farm in the province of Buenos Aires where they grow soybeans, wheat and corn. It is not a cattle ranch as I had imagined. I have since learned that Argentina is the third largest exporter of soybeans in the world.. Her husband and now two of her sons run the family farm. After having four children and needing to put them in bilingual private schools, they bought an apartment in Recoleta where she still lives. Her children, Ezekiel, Dolores, Marco, and Nicolas, were raised in B.A but they also had a weekend house to get out of the city.

Teeny drove us around the neighborhood of Acassuso and then to San Isidro stopping at the San Isidro Jockey Club where she has been a member for many years. The Jockey Club is an elegant Tudor style building surrounded by a 36 hole golf course and is still a very exclusive private club that you can only join if you have the proper ancestry. She played golf there for years although she doesn't play anymore as her life is taken up with her many grandchildren. We walked through the club house with dark polished wood floors, oriental carpets, and elegant antique furniture overlooking an exquisite golf course with many tall beautiful trees that you see everywhere in Buenos Aires.

We lunched at a fancy restaurant called the Rosa Negra (Black Rose), one of many restaurants that were rebuilt in the area of where the stables for the San Isidro Race Course used to be. Lunch out in B.A. is always a leisurely, elegant meal with waiters in white jackets in attendance and tables set with white starched table cloths and napkins. Food is exquisite and fresh and delicious and many choices cooked on the parilla or the open grill. Art sampled the cerdo (pork) as did Teeny while I, the non-meat eater in the family, enjoyed a delicious natural chicken with vegetables.

Teeny brought us back to her spacious sixth floor apartment in Recoleta and her live-in maid served us a fresh cafecito which is a small coffee in a demi-tasse cup that Argentines drink all day long. We visited awhile longer and then said our good-byes promising to get together again while we are in Buenos Aires this month. Teeny seemed genuinely pleased to see me and although much has changed- her parents and her older brother have passed away - somehow it was special to be together as we knew each other and our families so many years ago. Families change and life turns out in unexpected ways, but I loved being in Teeny's home full of many happy family photos of her children and her ten grandchildren whom she talks about constantly. She seems very content and has had a good life with a strong 45 year marriage. She told us that Jaime loves to travel and they take a trip abroad at least twice a year. She has been all over Europe, Australia, and traveled throughout the U.S. while this spring they will go to China. She spends summers in Punta del Este, a beach resort in Uruguay, in her own apartment and throughout the year enjoys her grandchildren.

Perhaps reconnecting with Teeny helps me to validate that I really did live here as a little girl, as hard as that is to picture in this city that has changed so much. Our paths have taken us in different directions but at 65, we have matured and come to a satisfying place in our lives and we are content.

Reconnecting with a classmate on a trip to the Tigre...

My friend Eva Plager from elementary school remembers that fifty five years ago I was la peliroja con pecas que se reia mucho (the redhead girl with freckles who giggled a lot) .  Eva Plager was the girl of Hungarian immigrant parents who escaped Hitler's Europe before the war. Born in Argentina, she was sent to the American school because it was the only school where she would not encounter antisemitism. Eva graduated from the American School, earned a scholarship and went to college in Ohio, while her brother left for the US and became an American citizen. Now she is an Argentine grandmother of three, married to Brian from the UK and living in suburban La Lucila in a small apartment overlooking the Rio de la Plata and the American School. Eva and I met for the first time in 57 or 58 years yesterday!

Leaving downtown Buenos Aires, we took the commuter train from the Retiro station to the suburbs. Retiro station is a French-style building that was designed and built by British architects and engineers in 1909 and finished in 1915. The steel structure for the building was made in England and assembled in Argentina and for many years it was considered one of the most important buildings structurally in all of South America. Today, although somewhat shabby it is a National Monument in Argentina as it is nearly 100 years old. It was the British who built the railroad system in Argentina which still functions quite efficiently today.

We boarded the Tigre train, along with many other Argentines heading out of the city for the day. As we made our way past Palermo Park, the Palermo Race Course, and the the familiar stops of Belgrano, Nunez, Vicente Lopez, and Olivos to La Lucila, I began my own journey into the past. Arriving in La Lucila on a quiet Saturday morning of a four day holiday weekend, I looked around taking in the neighborhood shops by the train station, the tall shady trees - the sauces (willows) and the flowering palo borrachos (drunken sticks literally), the jacaranda trees and the fragant eucalyptus, as well as the brick houses built close together but surrounded by high walls for privacy and the persianas (shades on the outside of windows) drawn down on hot summer days. I was closer to the home I remember in the 1950's.

Eva and Brian met us in La Lucila, and in typical Argentine fashion we began our visit at an outdoor cafe with a cafe cortado (small coffee with frothed milk) and a plate full of media lunas (croissants). Eva is a lively, short woman, who talks nonstop and exudes a warmth that draws you in immediately. She seems to have boundless energy while Brian is much quieter with a kind of English reserve which he maintains from having grown up in the Midlands of England. Getting reacquainted after many years requires a lot of "do you remember?" and "what was the name of?" and "donde esta?", and other such conversation which Eva and I carried on all day in our own version of Spanglish. I would start a sentence in Spanish and then she would interject a few words in English and so we went along becoming reacquainted. I had in hand photos of our fourth grade class and Eva immediately recognized all our classmates and teachers I had forgotten and told me where they are now, mostly scattered between Argentina and the U.S..

Eva and Brian took us by car from La Lucila to the Tigre for the day, about a half hour drive further out through the suburbs of Martinez, Acassuso, where I grew up, and past San Isidro to the Tigre Delta. The Tigre which I learned is named for jaguars, which were called tigers, that once roamed this area, is a huge five thousand square food delta which flows into the Rio de La Plata and separates Argentina and Uruguay. Many years ago this area was out in the country and was full of farms that grew wonderful fruit. My mother used to regularly drive out to Tigre just to buy baskets of 100 fresh oranges that she would bring home and the maids would squeeze for our daily fresh breakfast juice.It also was a place where many Argentines had weekend cottages to escape the city. Eva told me all those farms are gone and replaced by what is today a very popular tourist area.

There is little I recognized about the Tigre because it has had a renaissance in the past ten years after a long decline. The municipality of Tigre has built new high rise apartments in the town and many of the old homes have been converted to hotels and B & B's. Now the area around the train station is built up into restaurants and instead of the old fruit market there are now shops and a very large open area of stalls selling lots of handicrafts and especially wicker furniture, baskets, dried flowers, leather goods, artisanal food, and other Argentine souvenirs. Eva says it's a place she likes to go to buy unusual gifts for people.

There is much of the British character still out in the Tigre with some mock Tudor homes and clubhouses, and lots of rowing clubs which is a popular sport. It was the British who enjoyed these country cottages as a getaway from the city life and which had whimsical names perhaps copied from cottages back home in England. The only way to get to these weekend homes is by lancha or boat as they are all on islands that are spread throughout this Delta area. We took a colectivo lancha which is the local public boat transport for an hour ride past what are now many upscale larger homes built throughout these islands. Argentines now spend weekends and summers out in this area on their docks or their well manicured shady lawns in the relaxing. There are camping areas and private clubs throughout the Tigre and a resurgence of hotels and spas one can stay at for a weekend.

Everything has to be brought by boat for the weekend and as we traversed the small rivers up and down and around the islands we saw the floating almacen or grocery store on a boat that brings supplies, the ambulance boat, the police boat, and all the services one might need. Lots of river traffic interspersed with private small motor boats and large yachts. It is no longer a quiet sleep place but a very desirable and popular destination for a quick getaway from city life.

For me, it is a special experience to go back over fifty years to recreate a childhood in this far away country. It is the first time I have done such a thing. But what seems most important and makes it real is to come back to friends like Eva who live here and who knew me then.

Some things change....others don't...

A morning ritual for us in Buenos Aires has become going to the shops just a half a block away to buy fresh fruits, salad things, wine, and something easy to heat up for a light supper. We have two supermarkets nearby and this morning I was in Carrefour picking up a few items. It has taken several visits to figure out the system of checking out which consists of getting in the appropriate line according to how many items you have. That sounds logical and something I am used to...but in Argentina? I always remember people crowding to the front of the line and the concept of "queuing" seemed inconceivable in this culture. Did I dream that? I found the line for "20 items or less" when a tanned, elegantly dressed woman approached me with an cart and asked if I would hold her place in line while she ran to get some bananas. My immediate reaction was one of pleasure that she had taken me for an Argentine and NOT a tourist and simply treated me as if she would anyone else in my place. By the time I looked up she had disappeared but I noticed her cart was empty. Interesting....This is a way to get out of standing in line. Get someone to watch your empty cart while you run around the store doing your shopping. Clever.

By the time I reached the head of the line a man came along and told me to move forward and to the left and so I did. When it was my turn at the checkout the woman looked at me and told me I had to stand in the middle of the "fila" like everyone else. Evidently she thought I had jumped the line but I patiently explained I had been told to move forward. A lady in front of me vouched that I had not jumped the queue and the checkout lady proceeded to ring up my groceries. As I walked out I found myself puzzling over all this precise "queuing" which I have no recollection of when I was growing up in South America. Nothing was ever orderly and whoever got there first was the lucky one. I wonder what has happened to change all of this...or have I got this all wrong. As I walk all around the city each day I can't help but notice the neat queues at all bus stops and today I even saw a long line of people quietly waiting in a "farmacia" for prescriptions. I am still puzzled by all of this and have vowed to ask my Argentine friend Eva when I see her this weekend what the deal is with all the orderly queueing.

Another big change in Buenos Aires, which has happened in other parts of the world, is the ban on smoking in restaurants, malls, and other public places. I had not noticed this until today when I was aware of cigarette smoke as I walk along the Buenos Aires streets. I realized all those street smokers are people banned from smoking indoors. That's a huge change from a culture that smoked anywhere and everywhere. I have not been in a single restaurant or even cafe where there were ashtrays or smoke wafting across my way. This is a welcome one as I am very "smoke intolerant". Amazing!

One thing that has not changed in Buenos Aires are the plentiful ice cream stores that serve up some of the most delicious ice cream in the world. There is a section of the B.A. guidebook describing the major ice cream chains. Today we stopped for our first "helados" at Cadare, an Italian family owned business since the late 1940's. The brochure I picked up in the shop had the history of this particular business where all the ice cream is handmade from recipes that have been passed down for generations from Italy and of course, are kept secret. Art is still talking about the chocolate cointreau flavor he savored today and I was enamored with the typically Argentine "dulce de leche" but intrigued with such flavors as figs with nuts, marron glace, cherry cream, tiramasu, dark chocolate, and maracuya ( Brazilian passion fruit) and many more. A news item in La Nacion, the Argentine newspaper we read every day, reported today that the "Asociacion Fabricantes Artesanales de Helados y Afines" (an association of ice cream makers) stated that this summer the consumption of ice cream grew by 20% compared to last year. According to the article, the maracuya or passion fruit is one of the most asked for flavors along with dulce de leche, the variety of chocolate flavors, and many fruity flavors especially lemon. Having "broken the ice" so to speak for the first time I have a feeling this could become part of our routine in Buenos Aires - sampling all these unusual flavors. Eating ice cream...something we never do!

As long as I'm onto the topic of food we were happy to learn that the Palacio de las Papas Fritas (the Palace of the French Fries) restaurants are still alive and thriving in Buenos Aires. This became a favorite in the 1970's when Art and I would come to B.A. from Asuncion, where we were living,  for our eating, shopping & culture R & R. We found one today and had a long leisurely lunch and remembered years past. The Palacio restaurants that have been in existence since about 1948 are typically Argentine with the white table cloths, linen napkins, older waiters in white jackets and black bow ties and a menu that is pages and pages long. They are famous for their french fries that are not your typically skinny long fried potatoes. These are potato rounds that are fried in a way that make them puff up. I watched waiters bringing them out out on big platters looking almost like puffed pastries. Of course their specialty is all kinds of beef, pork, lamb and sausage. Art tasted a lamb that he said melted in his mouth and I settled for cannelone. If you aren't a meat eater like me you wonder what you can eat in this country and yet they have some of the best Italian food in the world outside of Italy.

I have not gone back to very many places where I have lived in the past as my life just kept moving me forward. This is a new experience for me which is why my constant analyzing and asking myself "was it always like this" or "do I remember it this way?" It's been thirty five years since I last visited Buenos Aires which is half my lifetime....I like seeing how the city has evolved and yet it's comforting to find some of the familiar things still here. That in itself is a validation that I was really here albeit many years ago.