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.

At the cemetery...and more...

Growing up in Argentina and coming here often with Art when we lived in Paraguay and in Chile in the 1970's, we never went sightseeing. I remarked on that today as we headed to the famous Recoleta Cemetery for the 11 a.m. free walking tour. I was amazed that we had never been there. But then, B.A. was always a "getaway" place for us from Asuncion and Santiago where we shopped, ate in the wonderful restaurants, and went to movies to soak up some culture. Nothing more. Now we are back at such a different time in our lives and I find myself hungry to know more about Argentina and to see as many of the sights as we can while we are here this month.

The Recoleta Cemetery which is only five blocks from our apartment, was a good place to start and is on most "must see" lists when visiting B.A.. Nowadays it is mostly visited because Evita Peron is buried there, although she was not originally laid to rest here. That came much later after a long story of intrigue about her body being stolen and then found in a grave in Italy and eventually brought back to Recoleta and buried in her family vault. She is not buried with her husband, Juan Peron, the famous dictator. But beyond Evita's story, a walk through the Recoleta Cemetery which was opened in 1822 on land owned by the mission church which is next door, is like experiencing the history of Argentina. Most all the famous president's , statesmen, military generals, and intellectuals are buried here. It's a fascinating place where families own vaults that are small buildings, Many are built of pure Italian marble and are very ornate with angels, crosses, or virgin statues on the roof. Inside the vaults there are several basements with room for coffins that contain family members. A medium sized vault which sells for about $35,000 can hold up to 18 coffins. No one is buried in the ground but coffins are simply slipped into shelves where they remain for many years. We learned that families pay yearly taxes on these vaults and now in modern times depending on the economic welfare of owners, sometimes vaults are sold, coffins removed and bodies cremated.

The Catholic Church now allows cremation so that the younger generation opt for cremation as opposed to the expensive investment of a vault. The Recoleta Cemetery is full now and has about 5,000 vaults. It is fascinating to walk up and down the narrow alleys studying the different designs, and the names which represent many nationalities other than Argentines. You don't have to be Catholic to be buried here although most people are. Some vaults are kept up beautifully and others have fallen into disrepair. Visiting the Recoleta is like walking through a history book of Argentina and for this reason many school groups visit with their teachers. The cemetery itself is well kept up and the guides are impressive and eager to tell you all about it.

We lunched today at the Cafe Rodi which is the quintessential Argentine restaurant. A simple plain decor, tables with crisp white linen table clothes and napkins, fresh crusty bread and butter on the table, and wine glasses waiting to be used. Only waiters work in Argentine restaurants and the concept of waitresses does not exist. In the Cafe Rodi we noticed many men having their lunch, perhaps on their lunch hour from work as well as many regulars whom the waiters greeted by name. Art ordered a complete filet mignon (called 'lomo" in Spanish) lunch with salad and papas fritas, all for a mere $8. I decided to sample the Argentine river fish which is called merluza. We came home for a siesta for awhile.

At 5 o'clock we walked to the famous Plaza San Martin crossing B.A.'s widest avenue called 9 de Julio. We had read about the free walking tours of B.A. that are given in English. This one was a two and a half hour walking tour of our Recoleta area and part of a neighboring area called Retiro which is close to the Buenos Aires port area. Buenos Aires natives are called "portenos" because Buenos Aires is a port city. Our young guide, Cecilia, who spoke excellent English told us about a group of young people who have started these free walking tours for tourists. Only about seven people showed up and we set off on foot stopping every block or so to have Cecilia tell us more Argentine history, and show us some of the magnificent European architecture in this particular area of the city.

I marvel at the fact that we are here again after a 35 year absence. But now I am aware of how at this stage of my life I love learning new things about the world which is what traveling is all about. I found myself thinking today how superficial I must have been at 26 or 30 that all I wanted to do was shop and eat. Now, getting in touch with my past and learning more about Argentina is what I want to do.

First impressions - Recoleta in Buenos Aires

Our first day exploring Buenos Aires and several things stand out tonight as I reflect on where we are. The things that impressed me the most today, other than the beautiful weather which continues to be heavenly after coming from a Vermont winter, are: 1) the hired dog walkers all over Recoleta 2) unusual leafy green trees on city streets 3) entertaining food shopping and, 4) elegantly dressed women.

We set out to explore Recoleta in the morning walking out in sandals and short sleeves. We strolled down the shady streets of Recoleta and by 10 a.m. we had seen at least a half dozen hired dog walkers expertly walking ten to fifteen similarly sized dogs all at once. Never having seen such a sight we were struck by how orderly it all seemed with no dog stopping to do his or her "business" but all just trotting along in sink as if they were used to this daily routine. The dog walker handling fifteen leashes at once strolled along often with an IPod but at the same time cognizant of pedestrians and stopping when appropriate to let people pass. This must be a lucrative business but we wondered where DO they take these animals to do their "business"? We didn't see that part of the routine.

The Recoleta streets are shady because there are beautiful old trees growing on every city street. Wandering towards a park near the famous Recoleta Cemetery we saw nearly 200 year old ombu trees with roots and trunks reminiscent of the ancient banyan trees we saw in India. These ombu trees have huge roots and trunks and enough shade to make a large shelter right in the middle of a city of 12 million people. Buenos Aires is what I would call a green city because there are so many parks and trees everywhere. I sit by a window with my laptop on a desk in my apartment and look straight out into the branches of a leafy tree growing up to the third floor on the busy one way street of Vicente Lopez.

The morning was devoted to getting in some food supplies for our kitchen and we found it all within a two block radius of where we live. A Carrefour supermarket which reminded us of Dubai is a half block in one direction and a more upscale Disco supermarket just two blocks away with every delicacy one could desire and a wine section that leaves you dizzy with so many choices of Argentine wines. But in between the supermarkets are the more enticing individual shops such as the panaderia (bakery), the fiambreria (the delicatessen with cheeses and cold cuts), the verdureria (the fresh fruit and vegetable shop), the carniceria (the butcher), and the small shop selling only fresh chicken and eggs, and the pescaderia (the fish shop). I find these food shopping experiences triggering long ago memories of the vegetable and fuit seller, and the dairy man with milk and eggs, coming down our street in the 1950's in a horse and carriage! Food in Buenos Aires is amazing and only in Dubai have we experienced such luscious shopping however the difference is that ALL of what you buy here is grown in Argentina!

We took our own shopping bags and went from vendor to vendor coming home with goodies to last us several days for breakfasts and evening light meals. We seem to have adapted easily to the very Argentine habit of a big lunch in the early afternoon. We look for the local places where food is delicious and cheap and found one two doors down from our apartment for lunch today. A full meal of Argentine steak and French fries, a drink, and a dessert of the Argentine flan all for less than $8. Delicioso, as we say in Spanish!

As for fashion and dress I walk down these streets and notice the slim people and particularly the well dressed women in high fashion casual dress which might be linen pants and silk blouse and silver sandals with a leather bag casually thrown across a shoulder or perhaps a gorgeous skirt and top outfit with sandals to match and chunky jewelry. You do not see a single overweight person and nothing but tanned women in gorgeous clothes including elegant older women who have spent time on maintaining how they look. I came home resolved to pull out a more elegant outfit to stroll the streets tomorrow.

We have only begun to scratch the surface of life in B.A.. Each day brings new adventures and continued memories as I pick up familiar expressions, remember foods I loved, smell the eucalyptus trees in the park, and struggle to bridge the gap between my childhood spent here and the sprawling modern city I am experiencing each day.

Coming "home" to Buenos Aires...

It's a long way to Buenos Aires, Argentina - the bottom of the globe and towards the end of the southern hemisphere. I grew up in the Southern Hemisphere and lived in these far away countries of Argentina, Chile, and Uruguay. In those days they were very far away from everything because it took two weeks to get a letter and a long distance call was only made when someone died. However, boarding the huge 767 Continental flight to B.A. last night, along with mostly Argentine families coming home from summer vacation in the U.S., and arriving here in a mere 10 hours, I realized it is no longer at the "end of the world".

Of course, we live in the 21st century now with fast jets (we used to come to Argentina by boat which took 21 days), high speed internet, cell phones, and all the other amenities which now exist in Argentina. (I Skyped my Mother this afternoon at the very same time that I call her every day when I'm in Vermont.) We arrived at Ezeiza International Airport this morning along with many other huge planes coming from Europe and other South American countries. The 25 mile drive from the airport into the city used to be a country road and now it is completely built up everywhere. Our driver whizzed along a modern highway with lots of new cars which once again lead me to flash back to the 1950's.  We had one of the very few

imported American cars in the entire city. When my mother would drive into the city and park the car, a crowd would gather and simply stare. No more!

Today, March 1st, was the opening of Parliament in Buenos Aires and President Cristina Fernandez de Kirchner was making a speech to the legislature in the Congress. ALL roads in the center of the city surrounding the Congress, the Casa Roasada (Pink House) and other important government buildings were closed to traffic which resulted in a HUGE traffic jam everywhere else. Our driver was patient but it took a very long time to go around the center to get to Recoleta, the upscale area of Buenos Aires where we are living.

We arrived at 1756 Vicente Lopez (see my first photo of the French style building) an hour later than expected. A woman was waiting for us in front of our building and greeted us. The building is on the National Heritage list in Bs. As. because a famous writer lived here. I will have to look closely at the sign downstairs to learn who this writer was and when. I was just too tired today. We came up to the third floor in an old fashioned elevator - the kind that makes you feel like you are in a cage and reminds you of old spy movies. In just a few minutes Gabriel, the apartment owner arrived, and greeted us like family. We spent a long time getting checked out on how everything works.It takes three old fashioned keys to get in the downstairs front door and then the door to the apartment. Our apartment exudes a European charming and if we didn't know we were in Buenos Aires, we could easily in Paris, Milan or any other old European city. The ceilings are high, the windows in front are tall and open like French doors, the parquet floors are beautifully finished and it's completely furnished as if we werre home. We have every amenity and if there is something we need, Gabriel will produce it for us. He even has a cell phone here for us to use within the city! We are surrounded by restaurants, cafes, shops, food stores. We walked a half a block to Sirop for a 3 p.m. lunch today where we sat at a table with white tablecloth outdoors and had the best pasta meal we have eaten anywhere except maybe in Italy.

Ever since watching the Argentine passengers board our flight last evening, encountering the warmth of the Argentines as we arrived today, speaking and thinking in Spanish once again, and knowing how things are done here I feel like part of me has come alive. I don't feel like a foreigner and I am not confused or afraid in any way as one might be when suddenly landing in a foreign place. I instinctively know and understand this part of the world. So I must be home.

We have so much to explore in the coming month not to mention the late summer sunny days to bask in after the long, cold Vermont winter. I am just waking up to my other self which has come back to this part of the world. I wonder why I stayed away so long...