I last left you in Puerto San Julian. After writing, we drove on to Comandante Luis Piedra Buena (yes, that's really the name of the town) and camped at an island windy island campground with neighbors who enjoyed techno music. I don't much enjoy techno music. Neither does CG. Oh well.
We heard English being spoken a few campsites away. I noticed that the folks had huge bikes with saddle bags and trailers. CG used to be a bike mechanic and he's an experienced cycle tourist, so he approached these folks and got their story-- they are a family of four who are attempting the Pan-American bike ride. They want to become the youngest people to do it and have been at it for over 2 years! They have a website and since I think this is such a neat thing (CG is less impressed), I thought I would post a link.
From Piedra Buena, we circled the Parque Nacional Monte Leon. We checked out a penguin mating/nesting/wandering spot. The area is inhabited by pumas (who love a good penguin for dinner!), so there were all sorts of signs telling us not to hike alone or walk during dusk. The place was so friendly, I was hardly concerned. We also walked down a pebbly beach with beautiful wave formations. It wasn't exactly beach weather-- probably high 50s with STRONG winds-- but there were a few intrepid sunbathers anyway.
We drove on to Rio Gallegos which is another gritty, industrial city with some amusing Tudor architecture. We stayed in a hotel (gasp) and enjoyed hot showers and soft beds. We thought it would be our last night before heading on to Tierra del Fuego.
Well. Tierra del Fuego? Not so much. We were turned away at the Chilean border. Seriously. Our rental car does not have the proper paperwork to enter Chile. And we only need to enter Chile briefly to get back into Argentina. Major bummer. So, we are now on the western border of southern Argentina in the gorgeous glacial village of El Calafate waiting to hear from the rental car folks (who don't seem upset at the inconvenience imposed on us) to see if they can find a company to give us insurance to travel to Chile. Sigh.
In other news, I have MORE new clothes. The sweatpants I am wearing today are ones that go with the national school uniform. Every kid in this entire country has a pair just like me. You should see the looks I get on the street. I bought them at a supermarket yesterday along with a pair of pajamas which I believe can be worn during the day. For those of you who know my father, my dressing habits will come as no surprise.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Friday, February 25, 2011
How to buy clothes for a giant in Argentina
Hello friends!! Greetings from San Julian, Argentina. This is a small, dusty town of about 7000 inhabitants in the southern part of the Argentina coast line. Magellan arrived here in the 1500s and it is here that Magellan reportedly gave the Patagonia region its name. No one is very sure where the term "Patagonia" comes from but it probably refers to the natives' big feet. There are penguins and sea lions here, although I haven't seen any today.
I think I last left you soon after my bag and belongings were stolen. I've managed to recover (mostly) and even started shopping around for some new clothes. We passed through Comodoro Rivadavia two days ago. This is a southern hub which is primarily known for the petroleum industry. I could tell it was the sort of place that rural folks drove to and did their shopping. Buying underwear, shirts, pants, rain coat, socks and a fleece for a person of my size turned out to be a rather amusing adventure. Mostly, I just stuck to the men's side and convinced the disapproving shop keepers that I would be fine wearing a shirt made for teenage skateboarders. I am kind of glad that I cannot upload any incriminating photographs of myself.
Yesterday we drove to Parque Nacional de Bosques Petrificados and oogled some really huge petrified trees. The park was 50 kilometers down a deserted dirt road, surrounded by mesas, old volcanos and dried salt lakes. The ranger and his wife have lived there for three years. They have an adorable and gigantic 8 month old, Manuela, who flirted mercilessly with me. During the winter, they sometimes have as few as 1 visitor a week. He also said that almost no Americans visit the spot. I was his first of the year and last year there were 5. He asked me the obligatory questions about Obama. I love that everyone wants only to talk about my president.
We camped illegally in the park (shh!) high atop a mesa. We walked among the guanaco and were treated to an amazing star gazing and sunrise show.
I am hoping that we will make it to Tierra del Fuego in the next two days. There, I imagine we'll spend a few days in Ushuaia and ride a boat through the Beagle Passage so I can really say that I saw the end of the world.
Thank you for the many, many emails of support and comfort. I am really doing quite fine and I am enjoying my new state-- unencumbered by material things and dressing like a 14 year old Argentine boy.
I think I last left you soon after my bag and belongings were stolen. I've managed to recover (mostly) and even started shopping around for some new clothes. We passed through Comodoro Rivadavia two days ago. This is a southern hub which is primarily known for the petroleum industry. I could tell it was the sort of place that rural folks drove to and did their shopping. Buying underwear, shirts, pants, rain coat, socks and a fleece for a person of my size turned out to be a rather amusing adventure. Mostly, I just stuck to the men's side and convinced the disapproving shop keepers that I would be fine wearing a shirt made for teenage skateboarders. I am kind of glad that I cannot upload any incriminating photographs of myself.
Yesterday we drove to Parque Nacional de Bosques Petrificados and oogled some really huge petrified trees. The park was 50 kilometers down a deserted dirt road, surrounded by mesas, old volcanos and dried salt lakes. The ranger and his wife have lived there for three years. They have an adorable and gigantic 8 month old, Manuela, who flirted mercilessly with me. During the winter, they sometimes have as few as 1 visitor a week. He also said that almost no Americans visit the spot. I was his first of the year and last year there were 5. He asked me the obligatory questions about Obama. I love that everyone wants only to talk about my president.
We camped illegally in the park (shh!) high atop a mesa. We walked among the guanaco and were treated to an amazing star gazing and sunrise show.
I am hoping that we will make it to Tierra del Fuego in the next two days. There, I imagine we'll spend a few days in Ushuaia and ride a boat through the Beagle Passage so I can really say that I saw the end of the world.
Thank you for the many, many emails of support and comfort. I am really doing quite fine and I am enjoying my new state-- unencumbered by material things and dressing like a 14 year old Argentine boy.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
I think I give Trelew a zero on the tourist scale
CG and I had a glorious day driving around the Valdez ecological reserve. We saw sea lions, seals, and yes, penguins. We also saw armadillos, some animal that is a relative of the camel, and some funny emu like birds. Good stuff, no?
After finishing the Valdez peninsula loop, we headed south to Trelew which is an old Welsh settlement with a really neat little dinosaur museum. We left the museum to find that our rental car had been broken into. My entire travel pack was stolen... this means that I am currently without 99% of my clothing and my computer. A sad, sad day for me.
We made a report at the police station because it seemed like the right thing to do. The police were generally nice but suggested we not leave any belongings even in a locked car. This seems impossible for us since we cannot take everything with us at all times. Thankfully, I have very little left to steal.
The good news? I have two pairs of underwear, two tee shirts, two pairs of pants (they did not seem to want my dirty laundry bag), and my passport and wallet. There is a silver lining, I tell you.
Obviously, my blogging efforts with be severely hampered without my computer. I will try to send updates periodically so that you know I am alive and well but I will not be able to upload pictures. I am sorry to leave you all hanging.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Next stop, penguins!!!!
Hello from Puerto Madryn which is the first big city we've been to since leaving Buenos Aires. I am sitting in a cafe along the waterfront enjoying some "free" WiFi. It's not totally free since I obviously cannot resist having a warm drink and maybe even a cookie.
Friday 2/18/11
We attempted to climb to Sierra La Ventana which is an 8x8 meter hole in a rock formation. Ventana means "window." Our best laid plans were foiled as the hike was closed due to fog. Instead, we climbed Cerro Bahia Blanca which was supposed to take 3 hours and supposedly had "supreme" views. The views were tolerable and it took us an hour. Humpf. And the most amusing part of it all was that the ranger lady wouldn't even show up to the trailhead until we changed out of our sandals and into hiking boots!! We probably could have hiked it barefoot.
We met a guy at the "summit" who asked CG to take his picture holding his soccer team's flag. We saw him again on the main road waiting for the public bus. We offered him a lift into town. Our car is kind of stuffed with equipment and clothes and food, so I apologized, claiming that we were "living" in the car.... he must have taken my broken Castellano seriously because he later pointed out a river in town we could use to bathe in. He also told CG that women shouldn't drive, but I just feigned ignorance and bid him farewell.
From Sierra La Ventana, we continued south to El Condor and found a small, sad, and worn campground. The place turned out to have hot showers (yeah!), a friendly manager and the right price. CG is a pro at gathering scrap wood for cooking. I'm a pro at driving into town to buy more wine.
Saturday 2/19/11
By daylight, El Condor turned out to be a sad but sweet seaside town. We engaged the services of a young tourism employee who was eager to speak English and planned the day. We briefly stopped at the world's largest parrot colony-- the birds nest in the holes in the cliffs. We also checked out the oldest lighthouse in the region.
.... It's taking me more than 5 minutes to load each picture and I'm running out of batteries at this point, so I'll post the rest of the narrative and load the pictures when I have a better connection.
From El Condor, we continued southwest along the Rio Negro coast road which was about 200 km of unpaved roads along gorgeous ocean cliffs. The road was like a washboard but the scenery was intensely beautiful: cliffs, oceans, and wide beaches on one side of the road and sand dunes like the Sahara on the other. We stopped twice and took two long walks on windy deserted beaches. CG took pictures of all of dead animals on the beach (penguins x 2, seals x 2, and several unidentifiable species of fish). I photographed the rocks. To each his/her own.
We spent the night at Oasis Campground in Las Grutas. A lovely night followed by a disappointing morning!! I couldn't use the bathroom or the showers as they were closed for cleaning!! I want my AR$30 (USD$7.50) back!!
Sunday 2/20/11
Today we're in Puerto Madryn. We'll spend the night on the road to the Valdez Peninsula Ecological Reserve. Tomorrow, I have a date with sea lions and penguins (alive, I hope).
Friday 2/18/11
We attempted to climb to Sierra La Ventana which is an 8x8 meter hole in a rock formation. Ventana means "window." Our best laid plans were foiled as the hike was closed due to fog. Instead, we climbed Cerro Bahia Blanca which was supposed to take 3 hours and supposedly had "supreme" views. The views were tolerable and it took us an hour. Humpf. And the most amusing part of it all was that the ranger lady wouldn't even show up to the trailhead until we changed out of our sandals and into hiking boots!! We probably could have hiked it barefoot.
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| [Some neat rocks at the summit of Cerro Bahia Blana] |
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| [More views from Cerro Bahia Blanca] |
From Sierra La Ventana, we continued south to El Condor and found a small, sad, and worn campground. The place turned out to have hot showers (yeah!), a friendly manager and the right price. CG is a pro at gathering scrap wood for cooking. I'm a pro at driving into town to buy more wine.
Saturday 2/19/11
By daylight, El Condor turned out to be a sad but sweet seaside town. We engaged the services of a young tourism employee who was eager to speak English and planned the day. We briefly stopped at the world's largest parrot colony-- the birds nest in the holes in the cliffs. We also checked out the oldest lighthouse in the region.
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| [The beachfront in El Condor] |
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| [The parrot colony at El Condor] |
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| [Oldest lighthouse] |
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| [The light] |
From El Condor, we continued southwest along the Rio Negro coast road which was about 200 km of unpaved roads along gorgeous ocean cliffs. The road was like a washboard but the scenery was intensely beautiful: cliffs, oceans, and wide beaches on one side of the road and sand dunes like the Sahara on the other. We stopped twice and took two long walks on windy deserted beaches. CG took pictures of all of dead animals on the beach (penguins x 2, seals x 2, and several unidentifiable species of fish). I photographed the rocks. To each his/her own.
We spent the night at Oasis Campground in Las Grutas. A lovely night followed by a disappointing morning!! I couldn't use the bathroom or the showers as they were closed for cleaning!! I want my AR$30 (USD$7.50) back!!
Sunday 2/20/11
Today we're in Puerto Madryn. We'll spend the night on the road to the Valdez Peninsula Ecological Reserve. Tomorrow, I have a date with sea lions and penguins (alive, I hope).
Friday, February 18, 2011
Hello from Sierra la Ventana
I'm writing from a gas station in this little town south of Buenos Aires. We've found that gas stations have the fastest Wi-Fi and that we can sit down in the cafe for long periods of time without imposing on anyone. I have also discovered that men's bathrooms at gas stations have showers while women's rooms do not. Bummer.
Anyway, my traveling partner is a Canadian guy who is well traveled and has done extensive car camping in Mexico and Belize. Score! I haven't ask him if I can write about him in this blog, so I'll just call him CG (Canadian Guy).
We left Buenos Aires late on Wednesday 2/16/11 and drove as long as we could. We managed about 400 kms in about 6 hours and stayed between Tandil and Necochea. We found a little camping spot off of the side of a rural road without much traffic (I think I heard one car go by all night) and crashed.
Thursday we explored Necochea and Quequen, including some picturesque but not very interesting shipwreck off the coast.
We walked around Bahia Blanca which is the where the headquarters of the Argentine navy are located. It was a gritty beach city.... hence the total lack of photographs. We ate an early pizza dinner and hit the road again, hoping to find a campground near Sierra la Ventana.
Before making it as far as the official campground, we took a turn off the main road onto a "tourist circuit" on which we saw little of the touristical value but happened upon the perfect camping spot-- a sandy ledge right next to a river. So, we settled for the night. We drove about 530 kms this day.
Day light revealed that we had settled in a really lovely spot!! The tourist circuit was worthwhile-- nestled in between rolling hills and surrounded by huge, grass filled beef cow ranches. We passed a few farmers on the road and waved hello. They were all wearing big, floppy berets. I could have stayed longer.
Okay. I'm losing my patience for loading pictures. That's all for now. Will update in a few more days.
Anyway, my traveling partner is a Canadian guy who is well traveled and has done extensive car camping in Mexico and Belize. Score! I haven't ask him if I can write about him in this blog, so I'll just call him CG (Canadian Guy).
We left Buenos Aires late on Wednesday 2/16/11 and drove as long as we could. We managed about 400 kms in about 6 hours and stayed between Tandil and Necochea. We found a little camping spot off of the side of a rural road without much traffic (I think I heard one car go by all night) and crashed.
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| [Sunset from the car] |
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| [Camp site at sunrise] |
Thursday we explored Necochea and Quequen, including some picturesque but not very interesting shipwreck off the coast.
We walked around Bahia Blanca which is the where the headquarters of the Argentine navy are located. It was a gritty beach city.... hence the total lack of photographs. We ate an early pizza dinner and hit the road again, hoping to find a campground near Sierra la Ventana.
Before making it as far as the official campground, we took a turn off the main road onto a "tourist circuit" on which we saw little of the touristical value but happened upon the perfect camping spot-- a sandy ledge right next to a river. So, we settled for the night. We drove about 530 kms this day.
 | ||
| [CG (with the headlamp at right) makes a campfire under a full moon] |
Day light revealed that we had settled in a really lovely spot!! The tourist circuit was worthwhile-- nestled in between rolling hills and surrounded by huge, grass filled beef cow ranches. We passed a few farmers on the road and waved hello. They were all wearing big, floppy berets. I could have stayed longer.
 |
| [Baby llama drinking some milk for breakfast] |
Okay. I'm losing my patience for loading pictures. That's all for now. Will update in a few more days.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Trust me, I WILL bust out Willie Nelson as I drive out of town.
Just can't wait to get on the road again.
So here's the news of my impending departure. Through the grapevine, I found a fellow traveler who wants to see the rest of Argentina by car. So, we're renting a car and hitting the road!! Tierra del Fuego, here I come!
Car rental in Argentina was more complicated than I thought. Who knew you could make a reservation only to find out that the company wouldn't honor it? In the end, I have offered up my first-born child and tomorrow, barring further disaster, I will take receipt of a 2 door Volkswagen Gol. The sticking point, amongst many things, was unlimited mileage. I have estimated that the trip will be about 4000 miles round-trip. Yikes!
Today, between panicked phone calls to rental car companies, I started packing up. Who knew I had so much stuff with me? And I've added items in the past few days-- a sleeping bag and camping equipment.
I, of course, had time in the midst of it all to have coffee and a chat with Graciela and friends. They gave me all sorts of pointers about traveling in Patagonia. Mostly they complained that the roads in Argentina are not very well maintained and the ones in Chile are "beautiful." "No wonder Obama is going to visit Chile and not Argentina," said Beatriz. Apparently my president will tour Uruguay, Brazil, and Chile in March? Maybe he would like to have coffee with me too...
So, internet access from here on out will be sporadic. I will, of course, write an update whenever I am able.
Just can't wait to get on the road again....
So here's the news of my impending departure. Through the grapevine, I found a fellow traveler who wants to see the rest of Argentina by car. So, we're renting a car and hitting the road!! Tierra del Fuego, here I come!
Car rental in Argentina was more complicated than I thought. Who knew you could make a reservation only to find out that the company wouldn't honor it? In the end, I have offered up my first-born child and tomorrow, barring further disaster, I will take receipt of a 2 door Volkswagen Gol. The sticking point, amongst many things, was unlimited mileage. I have estimated that the trip will be about 4000 miles round-trip. Yikes!
Today, between panicked phone calls to rental car companies, I started packing up. Who knew I had so much stuff with me? And I've added items in the past few days-- a sleeping bag and camping equipment.
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| [Messy, ugly pack-up central] |
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| [Left to right: Beatriz, Graciela, Annie, and Marta.] |
So, internet access from here on out will be sporadic. I will, of course, write an update whenever I am able.
Just can't wait to get on the road again....
Monday, February 14, 2011
Of course I found out about this on my second to last day...
I met my yoga teacher, Diane, at Parque Centenario for some mate
Made, summer-style, with orange juice. Yum. Delicious.
Then we headed off to Los Sabios: the best restaurant on the planet. All-you-can-eat vegetarian buffet. That's right, folks, not a solitary cow in the place. AR$23 per person (that's US$5.75) and you get charged if you waste food.
Sigh. Good second to last day.
Then we headed off to Los Sabios: the best restaurant on the planet. All-you-can-eat vegetarian buffet. That's right, folks, not a solitary cow in the place. AR$23 per person (that's US$5.75) and you get charged if you waste food.
Sigh. Good second to last day.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Winding down
On Wednesday I give up my lovely little apartment in Las Canitas. The plan is to head south along the coast of Argentina and towards Tierra del Fuego. I'm going to miss Buenos Aires. I am really starting to love this city.
So, in this maudlin state of mind, I'm sentimental about everything.
I had my last tennis lesson with Anna. She leaves Buenos Aires in mid March and returns to Chicago-- her hometown. The lesson was a mixed bag. I hit about 25% of my serves in... okay, maybe it was only 15%. But still, this is a miracle for me. I have asked Anna to sign a sworn statement attesting this accomplishment so that I can send it to Daniel. We played exactly two games of tennis. I think I won three points.... okay, maybe it was only 2 points. But still....
I am also, of course, savoring every last moment of living in the ice cream mecca of the southern hemisphere. I've been sampling pretty much every night. Carpe diem, man... Carpe diem.
So, in this maudlin state of mind, I'm sentimental about everything.
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| ["Take your kid to work" day for the bus driver. This kid is about three and is hugging his father's left arm while his father drives the #60 bus-- a route that spans more than 20km!!] |
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| [Sweaty Annie and the resplendent Anna. Notice that we set the scene with the net, ball basket, and racquets.] |
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| [Close up view of my sweat] |
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| [Tiramisu on top, chocolate on the bottom. AR$11=USD$2.75. Worth every penny. | ] |
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Joining the 21st century
I've been referred to as a wimp, a Luddite, an eejit, and a technophobe. I went a good 5 years without a computer or internet access at home until my brother took pity on me last Christmas and bought me a netbook. This Christmas, life got infinitely more complicated-- an iPod full of music from Quad and Tim and my e-reader from Santa Claus. Now, I have become the person I always feared I'd be: I struggle to leave the house without all of my electronic equipment. Will there be wifi at the cafe? Will I want to drown out the traffic noise with my iPod? Will I need to sit on a park bench and escape in a book for a little relief?
Being the person I've always feared I'd be is a little fun. At least once a day I hear something on my iPod that makes me want to shout out loud "This is great!" I usually refrain from said shouting and I'm sure the other passengers on the colectivo are happy about that.
The absolute best part of my connectedness and general embrace of technology is Skype. I once complained about having to sit next to a woman in an airport restaurant in Seattle who was Skyping with her scantily clad boyfriend. I was outraged then, but now I can see how it might happen. The "phone" rings and you've just gotten out of the shower or are just getting into pajamas for bed. You answer the "phone" and whammo! The whole world (or at least everyone at the surrounding restaurant tables) can see your entire conversation.
This week was a banner Skyping week. I got to see Moses and Sebastian do some serious yoga moves in New Mexico. I reassured myself that Jens' injuries from his first "shaving" attempt (he's 3 years old) were healing nicely. I could practically SQUEEZE the sweet cheeks on Per Bear in cold Minneapolis.
I also had a rather classic conversation with my new-to-Skype parents (please observe this humorous twist: I don't know how to take a screen shot, so there I am in the lower left hand corner with my camera):
Being the person I've always feared I'd be is a little fun. At least once a day I hear something on my iPod that makes me want to shout out loud "This is great!" I usually refrain from said shouting and I'm sure the other passengers on the colectivo are happy about that.
The absolute best part of my connectedness and general embrace of technology is Skype. I once complained about having to sit next to a woman in an airport restaurant in Seattle who was Skyping with her scantily clad boyfriend. I was outraged then, but now I can see how it might happen. The "phone" rings and you've just gotten out of the shower or are just getting into pajamas for bed. You answer the "phone" and whammo! The whole world (or at least everyone at the surrounding restaurant tables) can see your entire conversation.
This week was a banner Skyping week. I got to see Moses and Sebastian do some serious yoga moves in New Mexico. I reassured myself that Jens' injuries from his first "shaving" attempt (he's 3 years old) were healing nicely. I could practically SQUEEZE the sweet cheeks on Per Bear in cold Minneapolis.
I also had a rather classic conversation with my new-to-Skype parents (please observe this humorous twist: I don't know how to take a screen shot, so there I am in the lower left hand corner with my camera):
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| [Lower aspect of my father's visage. Gina is front and center.] |
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| [So, let's adjust the camera. Hello Arthur! I see you dressed for the occasion!] |
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| [Why adjust the camera after Arthur leaves? I can still see the very tippy top of my mother's head...] |
Friday, February 11, 2011
I heart Daniel
Near perfect day here in Buenos Aires. Good omen to start the day-- the lady who runs (or owns) the space where my yoga classes are taught kissed me hello. Normally, I ring the bell, she opens the door, stares grumpily at me and then lets me in. I'm always a bit amused when she hesitates: as if there are that many tall American women with short afros ringing her bell. It's common practice to kiss someone when you greet them here. This means that if you are a waiter just coming onto your shift, you make the rounds and kiss all of the other employees before putting down your bag and getting to work. It can seem dramatically inefficient at first glance, but now that I am used to it, it's kind of endearing.
I had an accidentally private yoga class. No other student managed to show up this morning, so my cool yoga teacher and I had a marathon class which lasted nearly 2 hours. I have a lot to work on. I also might not be able to walk tomorrow.
After yoga, I rushed home to eat lunch. During last week's tennis lesson, I suffered in the heat and I attributed some of my sluggishness to yoga, but, in fact, it probably had more to do with a lack of nourishment. Today I wanted to be on my toes for my final lesson with Daniel.
Daniel was in fine form today. He was kind of nice to me, so I immediately assumed he was buttering me up for something, but since I'm leaving, I'm not sure exactly what he thought he was going to get from me. He started off the lesson with a list of all of the things I had to remember when I played tennis "in some other place." I assume this means when I play tennis away from his watchful eye. Most of all, he wants me not to revert to the two handed backhand nonsense. Okay, Daniel.
He seemed extraordinarily pleased and amused by the story of the 4 and 5 year old campers harassing me as I hit against the fronton at Parque Norte. Imagine a respectable looking 50-something year old dancing around the court, laughing and pointing at me. He was so amused, in fact, that I now suspect he paid all of those little darlings to say demoralizing things to me.
We had a great lesson. My ground strokes have really improved. We were able to rally back and forth for sometimes as many as 10-12 swings. That's a miracle for me. Daniel kept up a running commentary which mostly went like this: "Don't rush this ball, Annie. Don't rush it. Oh, no! You hit it in the net. That's because you were too late. Next time, don't wait so long." Daniel also proclaimed my progress "out of the ordinary." This may have been a way to imply that I have been using steroids since he squeezed my biceps as we spoke (and probably wondered about the quality of the steroids....). I'll never know what goes on in his head. But I assure you, good readers, that I have resisted the steroid temptation.
So, why do I heart Daniel? Is is the emotional torture? The bicep squeezing? The hired 4 and 5 year old hit men? I think it's because he never gives an inch: the end of the lesson came after Daniel hit a drop shot which I couldn't come close to running down. He raised his hands in victory. Kisses all around. Goodbye Daniel. And no, I won't fall prey to the two handed backhand.
I had an accidentally private yoga class. No other student managed to show up this morning, so my cool yoga teacher and I had a marathon class which lasted nearly 2 hours. I have a lot to work on. I also might not be able to walk tomorrow.
After yoga, I rushed home to eat lunch. During last week's tennis lesson, I suffered in the heat and I attributed some of my sluggishness to yoga, but, in fact, it probably had more to do with a lack of nourishment. Today I wanted to be on my toes for my final lesson with Daniel.
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| [Inexplicable Michael Jackson billboard near the tennis club] |
He seemed extraordinarily pleased and amused by the story of the 4 and 5 year old campers harassing me as I hit against the fronton at Parque Norte. Imagine a respectable looking 50-something year old dancing around the court, laughing and pointing at me. He was so amused, in fact, that I now suspect he paid all of those little darlings to say demoralizing things to me.
We had a great lesson. My ground strokes have really improved. We were able to rally back and forth for sometimes as many as 10-12 swings. That's a miracle for me. Daniel kept up a running commentary which mostly went like this: "Don't rush this ball, Annie. Don't rush it. Oh, no! You hit it in the net. That's because you were too late. Next time, don't wait so long." Daniel also proclaimed my progress "out of the ordinary." This may have been a way to imply that I have been using steroids since he squeezed my biceps as we spoke (and probably wondered about the quality of the steroids....). I'll never know what goes on in his head. But I assure you, good readers, that I have resisted the steroid temptation.
So, why do I heart Daniel? Is is the emotional torture? The bicep squeezing? The hired 4 and 5 year old hit men? I think it's because he never gives an inch: the end of the lesson came after Daniel hit a drop shot which I couldn't come close to running down. He raised his hands in victory. Kisses all around. Goodbye Daniel. And no, I won't fall prey to the two handed backhand.
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| [An old photo. Today's request for another picture was promptly denied.] |
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Leisurely pursuits
I decided to try medialunas saltadas today. These are unsweetened medialunas-- they're a little less doughy and a little smaller. I still prefer the sweet ones, but a girl has to try every baked good under the sun, right?
After medialunas saltadas and cafe con leche at breakfast spot #3, A Gato (don't ask me what it means), I wandered my neighborhood in search of international calling cards. Every block has one or two sidewalk kioscos and several storefront kioscos. You can buy candy, cold drinks, cigarettes and magazines from these kind of places. You are also supposed to be able to buy international calling cards and cell phone minutes. I think with the advent of Skype and cell phone services that let you recharge on-line, the cards are less popular and not easily purchased. In the past, I've had to go to 5 or 6 kioscos before finding either item. Today I lucked out and found an international calling card on my second try. The lady behind the counter was eager to practice English with me. For the first time, I was kind of flummoxed-- I struggled to converse in my native language. This is NOT because my Castellano is so good. It's not. I think it's because my ear isn't tuned into English anymore. I don't expect to hear it, so I somehow can't understand it without rubbing my eyes, blinking rapidly and explaining that my confusion is not because I'm Brazilian but rather because I'm kind of in between worlds right now.
Today was made for wandering. The temperature must be in the low to mid 70s without a hint of humidity. The morning was cloudy but the sun came out this afternoon. I couldn't justify sitting inside, so I wandered around my neighborhood. I checked out the Disco supermarket for the first time-- VERY fancy. I didn't really need any groceries, but I picked up a few things and oogled the neat, clean aisles of food. I window shopped which is something Kate taught me to do. I even sat in the sun on the stoops of a couple of fancy buildings until security guards gave me the evil eye and I ambled off to the next distraction.
I sat in a cafe and on my balcony reading a book on my e-reader. (I am not about to make this an advertisement for my particular brand of electronic book device thingy, so I won't mention it by name.) I panicked a little when I decided to travel in Argentina because the thought of packing enough reading for even two weeks seemed too daunting. I checked on a couple of websites-- the availability of English-language books is limited in Buenos Aires and almost non-existent outside the city. So, I asked Santa Claus for an e-reader with wi-fi capability. Friends and family and co-workers flooded me with gift certificates to download books. It took a while to get used to. Some of the delights of reading a paper book are missing. The slightly guilty pleasure of dog-earing a page to mark a spot is gone. There isn't an easy way to refer back and forth between the current page and a favorite passage. The tactile sensations are completely different. And I honestly believe my memory of reading is different with an e-reader than with a paper book.
Having said all of this, I would be miserable without my slim little piece of electronic literary heaven. It took me a while before I felt comfortable taking it out in a public place. First of all, it almost immediately identifies me as foreign. Argentines don't seem to have taken to e-readers like Americans have. There's also the security issue which is ever-present in Buenos Aires. I heard a foreigner complain that he had his cell phone stolen through a bus window while he was sitting on a moving bus and talking on it!!! A kid on a bike rode up and just snatched it out of his hands. Pick pocketing and petty theft are pressing issues in all neighborhoods during all hours of the day and night. I thought this e-reader would make me a target, so I avoided using it at first. After a few trials, I've managed to both feel less self conscious about it and be less obvious about reading it. I can hold it in my lap or on my bag and it is not visible to a passerby. Or I can read completely unselfconsciously on my balcony, chasing the sun from one end to the next.
So, what have I been reading?
The Madonnas of Echo Park by Brando Skyhorse
The Surrendered by Chang Rae Lee
At Home by Bill Bryson
The Lovers by Vendela Vida
By Nightfall by Michael Cunningham (in progress)
Any suggestions or recommendations?
After medialunas saltadas and cafe con leche at breakfast spot #3, A Gato (don't ask me what it means), I wandered my neighborhood in search of international calling cards. Every block has one or two sidewalk kioscos and several storefront kioscos. You can buy candy, cold drinks, cigarettes and magazines from these kind of places. You are also supposed to be able to buy international calling cards and cell phone minutes. I think with the advent of Skype and cell phone services that let you recharge on-line, the cards are less popular and not easily purchased. In the past, I've had to go to 5 or 6 kioscos before finding either item. Today I lucked out and found an international calling card on my second try. The lady behind the counter was eager to practice English with me. For the first time, I was kind of flummoxed-- I struggled to converse in my native language. This is NOT because my Castellano is so good. It's not. I think it's because my ear isn't tuned into English anymore. I don't expect to hear it, so I somehow can't understand it without rubbing my eyes, blinking rapidly and explaining that my confusion is not because I'm Brazilian but rather because I'm kind of in between worlds right now.
Today was made for wandering. The temperature must be in the low to mid 70s without a hint of humidity. The morning was cloudy but the sun came out this afternoon. I couldn't justify sitting inside, so I wandered around my neighborhood. I checked out the Disco supermarket for the first time-- VERY fancy. I didn't really need any groceries, but I picked up a few things and oogled the neat, clean aisles of food. I window shopped which is something Kate taught me to do. I even sat in the sun on the stoops of a couple of fancy buildings until security guards gave me the evil eye and I ambled off to the next distraction.
I sat in a cafe and on my balcony reading a book on my e-reader. (I am not about to make this an advertisement for my particular brand of electronic book device thingy, so I won't mention it by name.) I panicked a little when I decided to travel in Argentina because the thought of packing enough reading for even two weeks seemed too daunting. I checked on a couple of websites-- the availability of English-language books is limited in Buenos Aires and almost non-existent outside the city. So, I asked Santa Claus for an e-reader with wi-fi capability. Friends and family and co-workers flooded me with gift certificates to download books. It took a while to get used to. Some of the delights of reading a paper book are missing. The slightly guilty pleasure of dog-earing a page to mark a spot is gone. There isn't an easy way to refer back and forth between the current page and a favorite passage. The tactile sensations are completely different. And I honestly believe my memory of reading is different with an e-reader than with a paper book.
Having said all of this, I would be miserable without my slim little piece of electronic literary heaven. It took me a while before I felt comfortable taking it out in a public place. First of all, it almost immediately identifies me as foreign. Argentines don't seem to have taken to e-readers like Americans have. There's also the security issue which is ever-present in Buenos Aires. I heard a foreigner complain that he had his cell phone stolen through a bus window while he was sitting on a moving bus and talking on it!!! A kid on a bike rode up and just snatched it out of his hands. Pick pocketing and petty theft are pressing issues in all neighborhoods during all hours of the day and night. I thought this e-reader would make me a target, so I avoided using it at first. After a few trials, I've managed to both feel less self conscious about it and be less obvious about reading it. I can hold it in my lap or on my bag and it is not visible to a passerby. Or I can read completely unselfconsciously on my balcony, chasing the sun from one end to the next.
 |
| [No. I don't have leprosy.... yet. Those are tan lines from my sandals.] |
 |
| [The last half hour-- 5:30 pm] |
So, what have I been reading?
The Madonnas of Echo Park by Brando Skyhorse
The Surrendered by Chang Rae Lee
At Home by Bill Bryson
The Lovers by Vendela Vida
By Nightfall by Michael Cunningham (in progress)
Any suggestions or recommendations?
 | |
| [What a beautiful evening....] |
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Yoga
On Wednesday and Friday mornings, I attend a drop-in yoga class in Palermo. I'm no yogi, but my practice has improved over the last 5 weeks. I found a cool teacher and the studio is a nice 20 minute walk from my apartment.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Graciela and friends
The bathroom ceiling in my apartment was repaired last week. There's been a thin layer of dust all over everything since then. The poor cleaning lady, Angelica, had a heck of time this morning. She's very thorough and went over the place with a fine toothed comb. I hid myself in Las Cortaderas while she scrubbed... cowardly, I know.
I invited my landlord's mother to have coffee this afternoon. Graciela picked me up at my house and we walked together to a small mall about 7-8 blocks away. Graciela is funny and engaging. She tolerates my broken Castellano. She likes to hold my arm as we walk. She thinks I'm adorable.... so you can see why I invited her for coffee! We found the central cafe, ordered a brownie and drinks and settled in for a nice long chat. A few minutes later, Martha, Graciela's sister arrived. What a surprise! Please sit down and join us.... and then a few minutes after that, Beatriz, Graciela's best friend happened to find us. What a surprise!! Please sit down and join us.... Martha and Beatriz impressed me with their English at first (they've been taking English classes for four years), but we quickly settled back into Castellano. We chatted about movies, about travel, about clothes and shopping. You know, girl-talk! What a good time. I insisted that we plan another get-together for next week. I'm running out of time for such things.
After leaving Graciela and friends (kiss, kiss), I wandered into Palermo Hollywood to check out a gallery. I met some British guys while watching the soccer match this past Sunday. James works in a small gallery and invited me to visit.
The exhibition is called "Descalzo" and features paintings by Brazilian Rimon Guimaraes (poorly photographed by me....).
The gem of the exhibition is the mural painted on the corner.
The gallery is called l/_ Seriously. Yeah. It's like the artist formerly known as Prince. Here is the website
 |
| [The view from my booth] |
 |
| [Plugged-in] |
 | ||
| [The sun starts to shine.] |
I invited my landlord's mother to have coffee this afternoon. Graciela picked me up at my house and we walked together to a small mall about 7-8 blocks away. Graciela is funny and engaging. She tolerates my broken Castellano. She likes to hold my arm as we walk. She thinks I'm adorable.... so you can see why I invited her for coffee! We found the central cafe, ordered a brownie and drinks and settled in for a nice long chat. A few minutes later, Martha, Graciela's sister arrived. What a surprise! Please sit down and join us.... and then a few minutes after that, Beatriz, Graciela's best friend happened to find us. What a surprise!! Please sit down and join us.... Martha and Beatriz impressed me with their English at first (they've been taking English classes for four years), but we quickly settled back into Castellano. We chatted about movies, about travel, about clothes and shopping. You know, girl-talk! What a good time. I insisted that we plan another get-together for next week. I'm running out of time for such things.
 |
| [BFFs] |
 | ||
| [Calle Voltaire-- art gallery under black awning on the left] |
 | |||||
The gem of the exhibition is the mural painted on the corner.
The gallery is called l/_ Seriously. Yeah. It's like the artist formerly known as Prince. Here is the website
 |
| [Beautiful, cloudy evening] |
 |
| [Red sky at night] |
 |
| [Sailor's delight] |
Monday, February 7, 2011
A bad day for blogging
First of all, I forgot to bring my camera when I walked to Parque Norte to find a fronton (not a frontera) to practice tennis. Despite Daniel's instructions, I walked around for 45 minutes before breaking down and asking the guy at the hot dog stand for help crossing the 6 lane highway. He advised me to cross the highway on the automobile bridge... the one that didn't have a sidewalk. Thankfully, a motorcycle messenger overheard the conversation and rescued me by telling me about the foot bridge just a bit down the road. Phewf.
Parque Norte is owned by some sort of organized labor group (Sindicatos del Empleados de Comercio) but can be used by the public for a fee. I paid AR$14 (USD$3.50) for general admission. The day was cloudy and it seemed like it was going to rain, so the park was fairly empty. It's a huge space-- nearly 30 acres of space which included many, many tennis courts, squash courts, soccer fields, and a lake. It's really like a gigantic sports club. This is where kids go to day camp during the summer months (school does not start until March 1st).
I found the fronton with the help of some friendly employees. Unfortunately, the wall was right next to the area where day camp groups waited for their turn to swim in the lake. The 7 and 8 year olds were generous about my poor tennis skills. They just ignored me. The 4 and 5 year olds were BRUTAL. They stood at the side of the concrete court and asked each other loudly "What is she doing?" "Why can't she hit the ball?" "What's wrong with her racquet?" (What IS wrong with my racquet, I wondered. Maybe that's the problem....) One sweet little girl actually offered up her father to give me lessons. Ouch.
It started to rain, so I left before Daniel's prescribed 2 hour time frame. My walk home is around 3.5 miles. Life as a pedestrian in Buenos Aires is tenuous. No one stops for you, even when you're in the cross walk or if you have the right of way. In fact, the whole concept of right of way does not exist here. There are very few stop signs and many, many one-way streets. Quad and I couldn't figure out how cars decided who would stop at a 4 way intersection without stop signs or lights. I finally learned that, in theory, the car on the right has the right of way. Nowadays, however, the newest car (the one who has the most to lose in an accident) yields. Scary.
So there I was, standing on the corner of Jorge Newbery and Soledad de Independencia waiting my turn to cross the street when a small truck drove by and slowed down. I thought to myself, "here's some nice person who is going to let me cross the street." I took a step out into the road, but the truck did not slow down any further, so I stayed where I was. And then the driver leaned his head out the window and SNEEZED right in my face. No joke. Sigh. Life as a pedestrian isn't just tenuous, it's downright dangerous. I would like to thank my primary care doctor for insisting that I get a flu shot.....
Parque Norte is owned by some sort of organized labor group (Sindicatos del Empleados de Comercio) but can be used by the public for a fee. I paid AR$14 (USD$3.50) for general admission. The day was cloudy and it seemed like it was going to rain, so the park was fairly empty. It's a huge space-- nearly 30 acres of space which included many, many tennis courts, squash courts, soccer fields, and a lake. It's really like a gigantic sports club. This is where kids go to day camp during the summer months (school does not start until March 1st).
I found the fronton with the help of some friendly employees. Unfortunately, the wall was right next to the area where day camp groups waited for their turn to swim in the lake. The 7 and 8 year olds were generous about my poor tennis skills. They just ignored me. The 4 and 5 year olds were BRUTAL. They stood at the side of the concrete court and asked each other loudly "What is she doing?" "Why can't she hit the ball?" "What's wrong with her racquet?" (What IS wrong with my racquet, I wondered. Maybe that's the problem....) One sweet little girl actually offered up her father to give me lessons. Ouch.
It started to rain, so I left before Daniel's prescribed 2 hour time frame. My walk home is around 3.5 miles. Life as a pedestrian in Buenos Aires is tenuous. No one stops for you, even when you're in the cross walk or if you have the right of way. In fact, the whole concept of right of way does not exist here. There are very few stop signs and many, many one-way streets. Quad and I couldn't figure out how cars decided who would stop at a 4 way intersection without stop signs or lights. I finally learned that, in theory, the car on the right has the right of way. Nowadays, however, the newest car (the one who has the most to lose in an accident) yields. Scary.
So there I was, standing on the corner of Jorge Newbery and Soledad de Independencia waiting my turn to cross the street when a small truck drove by and slowed down. I thought to myself, "here's some nice person who is going to let me cross the street." I took a step out into the road, but the truck did not slow down any further, so I stayed where I was. And then the driver leaned his head out the window and SNEEZED right in my face. No joke. Sigh. Life as a pedestrian isn't just tenuous, it's downright dangerous. I would like to thank my primary care doctor for insisting that I get a flu shot.....
The wheels on the bus....
I am no longer a slave to the Subte. I have discovered the world of buses. Here, they're called colectivos.
The day started with a trip across the city to San Telmo to watch Chelsea vs Liverpool match at the Gibraltar Bar. This is an honest-to-god English pub plunked down the middle of Buenos Aires. It even smelled like an English pub-- a combination of curry and leather polish. I loved it. Sadly, Chelsea lost 0-1.
The last time I went to San Telmo, I took the Subte and then walked. This time, I rode the infamous #29 from Avenida Luis Campos (2 blocks from my house) to the very corner where I found the bar. There are 200 different bus lines in the city. Many have more than one route. There's apparently a guide you can buy to find out which bus to take. I saw the guide on my second day in Buenos Aires and did not buy it...bad idea. I found a great website which tells you which colectivo to take, but this does not allow for fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kind of travel. I can figure out how to get some place, but I can't always figure out how to get home.
You're supposed to board the bus and either announce your fare or ask the driver how much it costs to get to X place. You put your coins in the fare box and it spits out your change and a little printed ticket. Bills are not accepted on the buses. There is apparently a coin shortage in Argentina. The rumor is that the metals from which the coins are made are worth more than the monetary value of the coins themselves and that big companies are hoarding the coins and melting them down (which, like in the US, is a federal offense). I'm not sure I buy this explanation. But I do know that most businesses would rather lose a sale than give you coins ("monedas"). Today, I had a guy refuse to sell me a bottle of water because he was going to owe me a peso.
So, I usually board the bus and tell the driver where I'm going-- this is also a way to confirm that I'm on the right bus since it's not always clear from the signs. Inevitably, the driver tells me the fare is AR$1.20 or AR$1.25. I pay and take my ticket. But I've noticed that everyone else boards the bus, announces their fare, and it's never more than 90 centavos. In fact, 90% of the time, they announce either 90 centavos or 80 centavos. On a rare occasion, they might pay a full peso. I asked the barkeep at Gibraltar about this. He says everyone cheats the system. I think I'm going to keep paying my AR$1.25.
After the soccer match, I raced home on the #29.... which, of course, boards at the #24 stop on Sundays since Avenida Independencia is closed... duh!
I had tennis lesson #5 with Anna (the American) in Nunez at 5 pm. I planned to take a bus through my neighborhood, through Barrio Chino, and into Nunez on Avenida Libertador. Many of the streets in Barrio Chino were closed for the Chinese New Year celebration, so the #15 had to take a detour. The driver pulled over before this variance in the route and explained the situation to all of the passengers. The old ladies were all a twitter. Why couldn't he just drive his usual route? Who cared about the celebration? Why should they be disrupted for other people to have fun? It was highly amusing. Most of the 75+ crowd got off the bus-- I couldn't tell if they were leaving in protest or because they were confused.
The tennis lesson was a mixed bag. My ground strokes are getting noticeably better. I still can't serve or hit an overhead for the life of me. Anna is infinitely amused when I tell her stories about Daniel but she agrees that homework is good for me and encouraged me to hit against the wall too. On the other hand, Anna doesn't think I need to switch to the one handed backhand. I don't think Anna knows how scary Daniel is.
I waited 20 minutes for the bus home before I gave up and started walking. Of course, no sooner had I abandoned my wait than a string of #15s rolled by.
As I walked, I witnessed some excitement!! Critical mass had a bike rally (perhaps in honor of the Chinese New Year??) and clogged up the already confused traffic on Avenida Libertador. There were a few dicey moments when a disgruntled motorist who tried to drive through the rally was removed from his truck. Off duty police officers intervened before he was harmed.
Now where will I take the bus tomorrow?
The day started with a trip across the city to San Telmo to watch Chelsea vs Liverpool match at the Gibraltar Bar. This is an honest-to-god English pub plunked down the middle of Buenos Aires. It even smelled like an English pub-- a combination of curry and leather polish. I loved it. Sadly, Chelsea lost 0-1.
The last time I went to San Telmo, I took the Subte and then walked. This time, I rode the infamous #29 from Avenida Luis Campos (2 blocks from my house) to the very corner where I found the bar. There are 200 different bus lines in the city. Many have more than one route. There's apparently a guide you can buy to find out which bus to take. I saw the guide on my second day in Buenos Aires and did not buy it...bad idea. I found a great website which tells you which colectivo to take, but this does not allow for fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kind of travel. I can figure out how to get some place, but I can't always figure out how to get home.
 |
| [Waiting for the #29 to San Telmo] |
You're supposed to board the bus and either announce your fare or ask the driver how much it costs to get to X place. You put your coins in the fare box and it spits out your change and a little printed ticket. Bills are not accepted on the buses. There is apparently a coin shortage in Argentina. The rumor is that the metals from which the coins are made are worth more than the monetary value of the coins themselves and that big companies are hoarding the coins and melting them down (which, like in the US, is a federal offense). I'm not sure I buy this explanation. But I do know that most businesses would rather lose a sale than give you coins ("monedas"). Today, I had a guy refuse to sell me a bottle of water because he was going to owe me a peso.
 | ||
| [Peso notes-- including the dreaded 2 peso bill. With nearly 30% inflation this year, this bill is becoming kind of irrelevant. AR$2=US 50 cents] |
 | ||
| [5 and 10 centavo coins-- all I have left in monedas after today's travels.] |
So, I usually board the bus and tell the driver where I'm going-- this is also a way to confirm that I'm on the right bus since it's not always clear from the signs. Inevitably, the driver tells me the fare is AR$1.20 or AR$1.25. I pay and take my ticket. But I've noticed that everyone else boards the bus, announces their fare, and it's never more than 90 centavos. In fact, 90% of the time, they announce either 90 centavos or 80 centavos. On a rare occasion, they might pay a full peso. I asked the barkeep at Gibraltar about this. He says everyone cheats the system. I think I'm going to keep paying my AR$1.25.
After the soccer match, I raced home on the #29.... which, of course, boards at the #24 stop on Sundays since Avenida Independencia is closed... duh!
 | |
| [Here comes the #29] |
The tennis lesson was a mixed bag. My ground strokes are getting noticeably better. I still can't serve or hit an overhead for the life of me. Anna is infinitely amused when I tell her stories about Daniel but she agrees that homework is good for me and encouraged me to hit against the wall too. On the other hand, Anna doesn't think I need to switch to the one handed backhand. I don't think Anna knows how scary Daniel is.
I waited 20 minutes for the bus home before I gave up and started walking. Of course, no sooner had I abandoned my wait than a string of #15s rolled by.
As I walked, I witnessed some excitement!! Critical mass had a bike rally (perhaps in honor of the Chinese New Year??) and clogged up the already confused traffic on Avenida Libertador. There were a few dicey moments when a disgruntled motorist who tried to drive through the rally was removed from his truck. Off duty police officers intervened before he was harmed.
 | |
| [The offending silver truck] |
Now where will I take the bus tomorrow?
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