Welcome back to the world’s longest day! I’ve already talked about our morning of wandering and visiting Recoleta Cemetery and our tour of Teatro Colón. When we left the theater, it was only 1:30PM! We grabbed some lunch before heading to our next activity, a city tour. Since I’ve already shared a lot of the things we learned on the tour, between the Argentina History posts and other tidbits here and there, I’m going to take you on my own little city tour. And so, welcome to Lara’s “Random Buenos Aires” Tour!

Let’s back up a little and start our tour at lunch. Mike and I went to Galerías Pacífico to eat, which sounds like it could be a very fancy restaurant but is actually just a very fancy shopping center with a food court. I wanted to go for the architectural experience. Mike wanted to go for the food. How fortunate that, in this case, our interests so easily converged! It doesn’t always happen like that.

Galerías Pacífico was built in 1889 to house a world-class department store, home to the latest international fashions. It was completed just in time for the 1890 economic downturn, and the store never opened. In the following years, the space housed the National Museum of Fine Art, offices for a railway company, and a hotel before being transformed into the current shopping center in 1992 (not-so-fun fact: the basement was also used to hold and torture people during the last military dictatorship).

In 1946, five Argentinian artists were hired to paint murals on the ceiling in the central dome. It’s interesting to see how the varying styles of each artist come through in the different panels!

The many faces of the Galerias Pacifico ceiling…
They did coordinate at least slightly, so the general theme and color schemes are similar.
But it is cool to see how the different artists’ styles come through.

While Galerias Pacifico is one of the most popular, Buenos Aires has no shortage of beautiful shopping areas. Mike and I also randomly wandered through Galería Güemes, probably while seeking respite from the heat and humidity. It was completed in 1915 and is much smaller than Galerías Pacífico, but the art nouveau architecture (and air conditioning) made it more than worth a walkthrough. You can also go up to the 14th floor for an inexpensive view of the city, but I had no idea about that at the time because that’s what happens when you don’t plan ahead!

Galería Güemes. Loving that fancy dome!
Mercado San Telmo. Check out that roof structure!

On a less high-end note, I immediately fell in love with the interior of Mercado San Telmo, a market. It’s bright and airy inside, and the metal structure gives it some real personality. It was built in 1897 and hasn’t changed much since. The stalls inside sell everything from food and produce to knick-knacks, souvenirs, and antiques. On Sundays, there’s a big flea market in the nearby streets and plaza, but we, unfortunately, weren’t in town to experience that chaos. Instead, we had to settle for walking through at midday during the week. Honestly, that was fine with me. I’m not one for flea markets, and it was nice and empty which made wandering with my eyes glued to the ceiling less hazardous.

Now, let’s fly across town to the Palacio del Congreso (Palace of Congress), the seat of Argentina’s parliament. If you know anything about the structure of the United States government, you won’t have trouble understanding Argentina’s. It’s divided into three branches: executive (President), legislative (Congress), and judicial (Supreme Court). The legislative branch is composed of two bodies: the Senate and the Chamber of Deputies. Each province is represented by three senators (6-year terms) and is allocated deputies by population (4-year terms).

The organizational structure of the legislative branch isn’t the only thing taking hints from the U.S. Does this building look like another building you may have seen before? (Attempt to see past the monument that’s obstructing your view.)

Palacio del Congreso with the Monumento a Los Dos Congresos (Monument to the Two Congresses) in front.

If you said, “the U.S. Capitol Building”, give yourself a pat on the back. The two buildings have a very similar form, but the architect, Vittorio Meano, still managed to give it a style of its own. Meano was also one of the original two Italian architects who I mentioned were involved with Teatro Colón. Unfortunately, he didn’t get to see the completion of either because side story: he was murdered by his wife’s lover when he discovered their affair. Eek.

Construction began in 1896, and the building was inaugurated in 1906… but it wasn’t fully completed until 1946. Whew! There was a lot of time-consuming ornamental work, so even though it wasn’t technically ‘finished’, it was occupied before then. The building is mostly marble and granite with an 80m tall bronze-plated dome, and it faces a large, grassy plaza, Plaza del Congreso.

This massive tree is in the Plaza del Congreso. I think it’s a gomero tree, or rubber fig tree. Whatever it is, it’s crazy!
One of the 20-some casts of “The Thinker” made during Rodin’s life can be found in the Plaza del Congreso. It’s surrounded by a fence and sits on a tall podium to protect it from being defaced during protests (apparently it’s happened before).
Palacio Barolo, looking especially tall from this awkward angle.

Only a few blocks from the plaza, there’s one building that towers over its surroundings. Standing 100m tall, Palacio Barolo had to get special permission to exceed the height ordinances when it was built in 1923. Why 100m? To maximize the rentable office space on the site? Silly, of course not! The building is an architectural tribute to the Divine Comedy, a 14th-century narrative poem about Dante’s (the author’s) journey through the afterlife. It’s a prized piece of Italian literature, and the Italian owner and architect turned their passion for Dante into a hulking reinforced-concrete building. Talk about superfans!

The design is completely over-the-top, but it’s a fascinating concept, translating literature into architecture. This is another “maybe someday I’ll go on a tour” building (but they’re not cheap, so it might have to wait until I have an actual income) and then I’ll write a whole post on it. For now, just the basics: The architect pulled various numbers and concepts from the work and translated them into architectural elements. The 100m height corresponds to the 100 “cantos”, or songs, that compose the poem. There are 22 floors for the 22 stanzas in each song, and as you move up the building, you travel with Dante through hell, purgatory, and heaven. The interior is filled with quotes and other decorative details based on elements from the poem. At the very top, there’s a lighthouse that was meant to communicate with its fraternal building twin, Palacio Salvo, located in Uruguay. It was designed by the same architect with a similar style and lighthouse on top… but without the insane Divine Comedy connection.

Random interesting building

Okay, back to the government buildings! We’ve covered the legislative branch, and now it’s time for the judicial. The Palacio de Justicia (Palace of Justice) is home to the country’s Supreme Court. I actually didn’t know what it was when we walked by, but I thought that it looked like a fancy/important building, so I took a picture and looked it up later. Designed by a French architect, it’s not as heavy on the ornamentation as the Palacio del Congreso, which allows the symmetry and simple geometry of the building to stand out. It definitely caught my eye! Also, it’s a little intimidating which seems right for a justice building.

Palacio de Justicia
The plaza in front of the Palacio de Justicia is dedicated to this guy, Juan Lavalle (at the top of the column). He was part of the army that crossed the Andes to help liberate Chile and Peru. He also led a coup at one point (geez, is there anyone who DIDN’T lead a coup?) and only managed to hold on to power for a year before he was forced to resign. Fun fact: his bones are buried in Recoleta Cemetery. Yes, just his bones. He was killed in a time of conflict, and his followers fled with his body to prevent it from being desecrated. They boiled it to separate the flesh from the bones, buried the flesh in an unmarked grave, and took the bones with them. Ew.
La Casa Mínima is the skinniest house in the city, at only 8.2 feet (2.5 meters) wide. It was part of a much larger house that was poorly divided up over time, creating a bunch of reasonably sized houses to its sides and one super skinny house in the middle. Um… has anyone ever heard of planning??

Finally, the executive branch. Sitting on the Plaza de Mayo is Casa Rosada, the President’s house. It actually faces the Palacio del Congreso, which is a little over a mile away, a reminder that power is shared with the people (a reminder that didn’t seem to do much for the military dictators of the 1900s). The Plaza de Mayo is named in honor of the May Revolution which, if you remember from our history lessons, launched the Argentinian War of Independence against Spain. Aside from the President’s house, the plaza is surrounded by other important buildings like the Buenos Aires City Hall, the Cabildo (the colonial town council building), and Catedral Metropolitana, the National Cathedral.

Plaza de Mayo. The white pyramid/obelisk in the distant middle is the “Pirámide de Mayo”, commissioned in 1811 to celebrate the 1-year anniversary of the May Revolution. This was Argentina’s first national monument. The figure at the top represents Liberty.
Casa Rosada, the President’s house
The Ministry of Modernization of the Nation… I just took a picture because I thought it was a nice building.

The cathedral is the main Catholic church in the city, and the first iteration was built on the site in the 1500s. After building a series of collapsing churches (I assume not intentionally, but there seems to be a theme), the current building finally came to be, albeit very slowly. It was started in the mid-1700s as the EIGHTH iteration of the church, and construction went on for about 100 years which seems to be about par for the course (or even kind of fast) when it comes to building grand cathedrals.

Catedral Metropolitana. From the outside, it looks more like an ancient Greek temple than a church.
Looking down the central nave of Catedral Metropolitana.
More Venetian-style mosaic floors! I’m not mad…
One of the side aisles
Walking home

After our tour, Mike and I walked back to our hostel via the waterfront, rather than taking a more direct route. This part of the city was once a port, used for storing goods, but as ships got bigger, a new port was built and the old fell into disuse. In the 1990s, it started being re-developed and became an official neighborhood of Buenos Aires. There’s a walkway along the waterfront that we took on the way home, and it was nice to get away from the more crowded city center for a bit!

The Puente de la Mujer (Woman’s Bridge) links the main part of the city with the new neighborhood, Puerto Madero. All of the streets in the neighborhood are named after women, hence the name of the bridge. Rather than lifting up, like a drawbridge, to allow boats to pass, a portion of the bridge pivots 90 degrees! Pretty cool!

We had only a short time to relax after getting back to our room because we had dinner plans! Our dad works for a big, international company, and one of the people he sometimes works with is based in Buenos Aires! She’s around my age, and after some back and forth where she gave us suggestions for things to see and some general tips for traveling in Argentina, we made plans to get dinner together while we were in the city!

She came to pick us up, and on the ride to the restaurant, Mike and I realized for the first time that she and our dad have never actually met in person! We thought that was hilarious, that we were meeting her before he did. It ended up being a ton of fun! She brought along another friend from work, and they did the ordering, determined to give us an authentic experience. They made sure to get some “normal” things like steak and French fries, plus a couple of classics: cow gland and intestine. Mike took on the responsibility of taste tester. He reported that the gland tasted like “less strong bacon” and assured me that I would survive tasting it. Be proud of me… I did it! And decided that his taste description was spot on, but the texture was a ‘no’ for me. Who wants less strong bacon, anyway? The intestine was less positively received. Mike described the texture as “crusty balloon filled with sandy glue”. The others took a moment to think about it and said, “Yeah, that’s actually a pretty good description.” I passed on that one.

Me, Dad’s friend, her friend, and Mike

We got ice cream after dinner, grabbed a beer (well, except for me), and then headed home once everyone’s eyes started to cross from sleepiness. Our new friend was nice enough to drive us back to the hostel, and I collapsed into bed. When I was like 90% asleep, Mike goes, “That intestine tasted HORRIBLE.” I mustered the energy for a weak, “Okay,” and then I was gone. Sorry, Mike! I laughed about it the next morning, at least.

The flavor of my ice cream was “double chocolate with chocolate”. I didn’t understand what that meant at first, but how can you go wrong with a name like that?? And mystery solved: it’s two chocolate layers around chocolate ice cream. Good choice.
Hehehe. Mike found these burgers at the grocery store and was impressed with their marketing. Who wouldn’t want to try a Barfy burger?

We left off last time as Mike and I were headed to Teatro Colón, the national opera house, for a tour. In case you didn’t know, I have a theater/opera house obsession… and while I mostly mean the actual buildings, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t also a fan of the shows. My preference is to go to a performance and just creep around admiring the building before and after the show/during intermission, but we were, unfortunately, in town during the performance off-season. So, our only option for seeing the building interior was a tour which, thanks to the fluctuating exchange rate, had a surprise price of $21ish. Eek! That’s a little steep for my preferences, but it was really the only attraction we were paying for, and to me, it was worth it.

Teatro Colón’s French Renaissance-style facade.

We showed up a few minutes early, and I used the time to scope out the other tour attendees. The tour group demographics were approximately 90% people over the age of 60, 9% ages 40-60… and 1% us. I thought it was funny. I think Mike saw it as proof that we should have been anywhere else but there.

All I can say is, those people know what’s up. The tour was fabulous! And the theater, well, there’s a reason why it’s considered one of the best in the world. As usual, though, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s start from the beginning…

The first Teatro Colón, or Columbus Theater (as in, Christopher), was built in 1857 near the Plaza de Mayo. In 1888, the original theater was closed, and a new one was built, finally completed in 1908 during the city’s golden age. Its construction brought the best of the best to Buenos Aires: architects and craftsmen from Italy, marble from Portugal and across Italy, stained glass from Paris, and mosaics from Venice. The builders worked 16-hour days which sounds brutal, and even so, it took nearly 20 years to be completed. The tessellated floors alone took 2 YEARS. Part of the reason for the long timeline was financial, and part was because the two original architects, both Italians, died during the process and had to be replaced. A Belgian architect was brought on to finish the work, and the result is a mix of Italian and French styles. In today’s money, the estimated cost is $300 million USD.

French with a side of Italian. Whatever it is, it’s awesome.
Hellooo, stained glass from Paris! Looking up in the entry area.
I mean, you look at the floors and can totally understand how they took two years to finish.
It’s a little funny that they have carpets to keep the nice floors from getting ruined by people walking on them… but don’t floors exist to be walked on?

We only visited a few spaces in the HUGE building which is even larger than it appears as two-thirds of it are underground, both beneath the actual building and the surrounding squares. The theater produces everything necessary to put on a show, using its underground workshops for costumes, sets, lighting technology, mechanical special effects, makeup, hairstyling, props, etc. Like I said, EVERYTHING. The underground area also includes rehearsal rooms, offices, and other support spaces. A full-sized practice stage is located beneath the performance stage. Altogether, the theater employs 1,500 people, from performers to technicians to designers and more.

The tour started in the main entry area where the guide explained that builders were brought from Italy specifically for this project. I had just been looking around in awe at the impressive craftsmanship… so that made perfect sense. He said that during the first wave of immigration, 40% of the immigrants were from Italy. These Italian-Argentinians played a huge role in the history of the theater (and the development of the Argentinian “Castellano” dialect).

Walking up the stairs to the second floor

From there, we headed upstairs where the guide pointed out one of the tricks they used to keep costs down. There’s a lot of marble in the building – yellow from Sienna, red from Verona, and white from Carrara, Italy, and pink from Portugal – but there are also places where stucco was masterfully painted to LOOK like marble. It’s amazingly hard to see the difference, a testament to the skill of the painters, but as soon as you touch the two surfaces, there’s no question. The marble, since it’s actual stone, is much cooler to the touch and has a texture, unlike the stucco which feels smooth. Absolutely amazing, though, that they were able to recreate the appearance of marble so faithfully!

The green is real marble, and the white is painted!
On the second floor, looking towards the open air above the entry area.

Just above the entrance is the “Golden Hall”. I bet you’ll never guess the reason for the name…

I know some people think this is too much, but I love it. Come on… it’s incredible!

Inspired by the opulence of Versailles (the French palace), the space was originally a social area for the elite. Now, it’s used mostly for lectures, exhibitions, and chamber music concerts, usually with free admission. The gold leaf is partly real. This is kind of funny… starting from 3 meters above ground, it’s real 24-carat gold. Below that, it’s just painted to look like gold leaf. Another cost-saving measure, I presume?

They could have plucked this room right out of Versailles.
It’s not even fair that other rooms have to exist in the same world with this one.

The chandeliers, unlike so many other parts of the building, were actually made in South America. They each weigh half a ton and have 200 lights! I believe it. Could they BE more blinding? The paintings in the room are painted on canvas and attached to the walls/ceiling, and the wood floors (which you can see peeking out past the edges of the carpet) were imported from Croatia.

Never been happier. 
THERE ARE NO WORDS.

Recently, a big restoration project was completed, making major structural and technological improvements to the building. Some cosmetic restoration was also completed, like in the Golden Hall where workers tackled 100 years of damage to the room and furniture from smoking and pollution. A few areas were left uncleaned to show the difference, and my gosh, if those spots aren’t convincing enough reasons not to smoke, I don’t know what would be.

Can you see the spot left uncleaned? It’s only mildly horrifying…
There’s a stripe left in the molding to show the previous state. Geez! The room is so vibrant now. I can’t picture how drab and dreary it must have been with those grey walls and blackened gold leaf.
Just a few more pictures so that you can appreciate how clean and shiny this room is…
I personally think the chandeliers are a bit much (brightness-wise, not decoratively), but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m obsessed with this room.
I just… I just… I want it.

And, heading towards the auditorium…

Again, I have some opinions about the lighting… but the space is just unreal.
Opposite the Golden Hall is a bust gallery that immortalizes famous composers. These three are Bellini, Gonoud, and Rossini.
They aren’t particularly well-placed for a clear view… but hey, Mozart!
Skylight in the bust gallery.
Okay, it was totally worth importing the stained glass from Paris.

Finally, we got to see the auditorium. It’s the largest in Latin America with a capacity of 2,700 people (300 standing room). Around the main seating area, there are three tiers of boxes and then four more levels of balcony seating. There are also boxes right next to the stage, and looking at them, I wondered why you’d ever want to sit there because the view angle must be terrible. The guide explained that while they do have the worst view of the stage, they are in perfect view of the rest of the audience. Leaders used to sit in these boxes because the most important thing was to be seen, not to actually watch the show. Since those times, the presidential box has been moved to the first level, smack dab in the center with one of the best views in the house.

The stage. Check out the terrible angle of view from those boxes by the stage.
Okay, and now get ready for a bunch of pictures that are basically the same but also fabulous.

Again, we learned about how much was happening out of view. The stage area is actually bigger than the auditorium, with prep areas and lifts to the sides and back to store and transport sets and materials as needed to support the performances. It also is 48m tall (155’) which is the entire height of the above-ground building to allow space for the stage lights. The seating area, in contrast, is only 28m tall (90’).

In the auditorium, there are still more hidden surprises. The ceiling sports a painted dome and low-profile chandelier designed to keep from obscuring anyone’s view of the stage. The dome paintings depict life in the opera house. The chandelier has 848 lights (according to the guide. I guess we wouldn’t want to lie and round up to 850) and weighs 1.5 tons. Geez! But the craziest thing is that musicians or singers can actually hide in the ceiling behind the chandelier! There is space for 15 people, and they use it for any sound effects that come from the sky.

It’s such a satisfying ceiling, isn’t it??

Acoustically, the auditorium is ranked in the top 5 best in the world. It was designed with an awareness of acoustic principles, and the horseshoe-shaped space, as well as the material choices, contribute to its success (the lower balconies use softer materials like fabric and wood to absorb sound, while the upper ones are more reflective with harder materials like marble). There’s also a resonance chamber beneath the seats, created by building a second “floor” two meters below the audience. The 84-person orchestra pit can sit at audience level or be lowered two meters to align with the chamber, sending sound through the space and out into the audience via “vents” under the rows of seats.

The middle box on the first level (above those golden columns) is now the presidential box. Much better for watching the productions than those stage boxes!
It’s so fancy that it doesn’t even look real. But I promise that this is actually how it looked. It’s not some photo-editing magic. I think the “unreal” quality has to do with the lighting.

The theater got a big boost during Marcelo Torcuato de Alvear’s presidency. Remember him? During our mini-tour of Recoleta Cemetery, I briefly mentioned that an Alvear, grandson of General Alvear, served as one of Argentina’s presidents. He also fell in love with a singer, Regina Pacini. Alvear followed her as she performed around Europe, asking her repeatedly to go out with him. Regina refused him time and time again until one night when he bought all of the tickets for her performance, and she went out to dinner with him instead of performing that night.

They fell in love, but she wasn’t willing to give up her career right away. She kept working for five more years, and he followed wherever she went to perform. After the five years, she moved to Argentina, and they got married.

Thanks to Regina’s love of the theater, Alvear paid extra attention to the arts during his time as president. He was responsible for integrating performers into the full-time staff of the theater, whereas it had previously relied on hiring foreign opera, ballet, and choir companies during the season (possible because the summer recess in the northern hemisphere coincided with the winter performance season in the southern). This led to the creation of the Instituto Superior de Arte within the theater, a performance school to train singers and dancers for opera and ballet.

So, you see, the theater really DOES create everything needed for its productions: the sets, the costumes, and even the performers, thanks to the institute. If you’re ever in Buenos Aires and have the chance to go to a show here, GO! And, preferably, bring me with you. Between this and wanting to visit the Museum of Water and Sanitary History, I really don’t think I have any choice. It is imperative that I go back to Argentina! Oh, darn…

I know I already had a picture of the ceiling… but it seems like a phenomenal note to end on, doesn’t it?

Instead of spending another day aimlessly wandering the city, like on our first day in Buenos Aires, we attempted to formulate a plan to make the most of our only full day in the city. The ongoing Lara-and-Mike travel struggle is that, outside of hiking, we have completely different interests. Mike doesn’t understand the point of visiting cities because “What do you do on vacation in a city?” Um… More like WHAT DO I DO WITH THIS QUESTION, MIKE? You go to museums and look at the buildings and walk around and eat ice cream and experience the culture… but the only thing on that list that Mike’s mildly interested in is ice cream (though he’ll say he doesn’t really eat sweets. Get outta here with that), so I’m not quite sure what to do. His input is generally, “I don’t care,” which is not helpful. I try to end up with an itinerary of a few things I hope he won’t totally hate, plus a few that he will but, oh well, because I really want to do them.

We planned to go on an 11AM tour of Recoleta Cemetery and built the rest of our plans around that, picking out some stops to make along the walk there. First, we went to the national theater, Teatro Colón, to get tour tickets for later in the day (a “Lara really wants to do this” activity, in case you couldn’t guess). From there, we did a walk-by of El Palacio de Aguas Corrientes (literally “The Palace of Running Water”) because I read somewhere that it was architecturally interesting. Well, it’s definitely that! I’m mostly confused by it because functionally, it seems like it should be a bland building… like it was built in the late 1800s to be a water-pumping station, bringing running water to the city. Why on earth did they spend the money to import 300,000 glazed tiles and enameled bricks from England and slate for the roof from France, on top of all the cast iron for the structure from Belgium? (Can you say, “World’s Most Beautiful Water-Pumping Station”? I bet this building would win… How much competition could there be in that category?)

The epic Palace of Running Water.
If you were just walking past this on the street, what would you think was inside? Without the benefit of x-ray vision, I can’t imagine that your answer would be “ginormous water tanks and pumping equipment”.

Today, it still is used as an administrative building for the water company, and there’s a museum inside which is the definition of offbeat… The Museum of Water and Sanitary History, featuring (according to their website) pipes, meters, faucets, and “sanitary artifacts” like toilets and bidets. I’m confused by its existence, honestly. But I will say this, if I’m ever back in Buenos Aires, especially without Mike in tow (quirky isn’t really his style), I will absolutely be checking it out.

After taking a lap around the building (a lengthy endeavor, considering it occupies an entire city block), we made our way to El Ateneo Grand Splendid, a bookstore a few blocks away. It’s in an old theater and is, of course, the world’s most beautiful bookstore. Unlike the water-pumping station title which I just made up, this is something that people actually do say. I don’t know who gets to be the authority on these claims, but it’s undeniable… “most” or not, it is very beautiful. I’m biased, though, because books and theaters are two of my favorite things, so combining them is a surefire way to win me over.

The building dates back to 1919, originally built as El Teatro Grand Splendid. In its heyday, it hosted performances by the tango greats (another thing for which Argentina is famous) until becoming a movie theater in 1929, one of the first in the city. It didn’t take its current form until 2000 when, in danger of demolition, it was rescued and converted into a bookstore.

Tell me this isn’t the stuff of dreams.

Except for the seating areas, I imagine that the building looks pretty much as it did in its theater days. The stage is a café. The seating areas have been taken over by bookshelves. There are wrought iron balustrades and gilded balconies. A massive fresco dominates the ceiling. One of the boxes by the stage is a reading nook. It’s a dream.

I don’t know why every bookstore isn’t in a theater. And every library. And really just everything.
“How many times can you take essentially the same picture?” Well, you’re about to find out. And these are just the ones that I couldn’t choose between!
My best attempt at getting a picture of the whole ceiling. It was impossible.
Hmm… I wonder if they’re hiring? I wouldn’t mind working here every day! Wait for meee! I’ll be back just as soon as I can get into the country!
Okay, I have no idea what kind of disaster is happening across the way with the lighting on that wall, but ignore that and focus on the balustrades (the fabulousness underneath the railings). (Hire me and I’ll fix your lighting!)
The bottom box is a reading nook/my future tiny house.
Really I’m just happy that the space was successfully repurposed because what a shame it would have been for this theater to be torn down and lost forever.

I hoped that it would be cool enough for Mike to enjoy even without a love of books or theaters, and I think it was! Maybe it was just the air conditioning that won him over, but hey, I’ll take it. We spent at least half an hour there, wandering around to soak in the general splendor and check out the books. I could have stayed all day (or forever), but alas, the cemetery awaited, so we headed back onto the sauna streets.

The cemetery has free daily tours… in Spanish. Why not, right? Get a little language practice, maybe learn a few things. Well, it was a nice thought, but the only thing we learned was that we were NOT up to the challenge. I caught maybe 40% of what the guide was saying, between the cemetery vocab that I lacked (all of it), the speech rate (rapid), and the castellano accent (strong). My gosh. My Spanish brain maxed out after maybe 20 minutes, and Mike was on the same page. We ditched the group and wandered around on our own.

The entryway to Recoleta Cemetery
Exploring

This is where I discovered that Mike doesn’t have the same appreciation for cemeteries that I do (I love them, in a completely normal/not creepy/not weird or worrisome way). You’re shocked, I’m sure. He lasted maybe five minutes after we left the tour before saying, “Whenever you’re ready to go, I’m ready.” I know he wasn’t trying to put pressure on me, but geez. I thought it was fabulous.

Recoleta Cemetery is one of those sites that everyone says is a “must visit” in Buenos Aires. Established in 1822, it was the first public cemetery in the city, and it’s THE place to be buried if you’re rich and/or important. It’s like a small city, stretching across 14 acres with more than 4600 vaults. It’s a good thing that they took the time to design a layout because without the predictable grid of walkways, it would be all too easy to get lost inside. (As much as I like cemeteries, I am not interested in that. Noo thank you.)

It’s like a city with lots of very small houses.
All of the “streets” aren’t this wide. This is basically a boulevard in the cemetery world. The majority were narrow enough that I could touch both sides by sticking my arms out.

It’s been ranked as one of the world’s most beautiful cemeteries, and while I’m not looking to dispute that, I do think it’s a weird thing to rank. Also, how many cemeteries did the authors of these articles visit before deciding? What were the evaluation criteria? I mean, it is quite nice. But like… what?

The mausoleums are the definition of extravagant. It’s a little strange, actually. A lot of them have windows, so you can see what’s going on inside. Above ground, there are usually one or two caskets and then some skinny minnie staircase leading underground to what I assume is more casket space? And architecturally, they each have their own personality. I felt like I was walking around an architectural style sampler… a little baroque here, some art deco there, classical and neo-gothic sprinkled about.

Because why not build a mausoleum modeled after a Roman temple?
This guy is missing part of an arm, but that’s a case of neglect (the family moved to another cemetery. What a weird concept haha) rather than the original design intent.
I just love the variety!
I’m always a fan of a good mosaic.
THOSE SPIDERWEBS. Seriously, so artfully placed.
Some are like rowhomes, one on top of the next… and some are like this little freestanding mausoleum-hut. Not my favorite design, but it sure knows how to take up space.
This one seems very… secure. Like a bank vault.
And then there’s this one, open and airy and the complete opposite of the bank vault.
This might be my favorite one. The doors!
This one just happened to be open, so I obviously stuck my head inside to get a better look at the layout… The mausoleums are of all different sizes, but this is what the majority look like inside, more or less.
I don’t know what’s going on with these, style-wise, but they’re definitely unique.
Hotel lobby?
This was just me doing my Armenian duty by seeing an Armenian name and taking a picture because I’m sure we’re basically cousins if you go back far enough.

Even though we skipped out on the tour, I thankfully had done a little reading ahead of time and knew a few of the “famous” mausoleums to look out for.

The legend surrounding this mausoleum is the stuff of nightmares. Rufina Cambacérès was 19 when she died suddenly, of a heart attack. She was buried, and cemetery workers heard strange noises coming from the mausoleum. When they opened it up, they found that the coffin had shifted. Rufina’s body was still there… but the inside of the coffin was covered in scratch marks. She had been buried alive and tried to in vain to escape. True or not, just the thought is enough to make you squirm.
The “General Alvear” referred to at the top was a general during the War of Independence. This massive mausoleum (prominently located just inside the entrance to Recoleta) is also the final resting place of his son, a mayor of Buenos Aires, and his grandson, a president. Bunch of underachievers.
This was built for Tomás Guido, a general in the War of Independence. He helped to liberate Chile and Peru from Spanish rule as well, crossing the Andes with his troops. His wish was to be buried underneath the mountains they crossed, so his son had stones brought from there to Buenos Aires and built this mausoleum himself for his father.

We wandered long enough to see most of the graves I was looking for and to admire the general award-winning beauty and then called it a day right around when we found the Armenian mausoleum. It seemed like a fitting way to end our time there. Plus, we had a tour to catch at Teatro Colón, and I didn’t want to risk being late! Coming up next time, get ready for some fab stained glass!

Since it’s been a while since my last post about Mike’s and my trip to Patagonia/Buenos Aires, let me reacclimate you. We just finished 7 days of hiking, hiking, and hiking, and by some miracle, my feet didn’t fall off (though I did end up losing a few toenails. I’ll spare you the pics but send me a message if you’re interested. Kidding. Kind of. I mean, I do have pictures, and you’re welcome to them if that’s something you’re into. Okay, I’m getting carried away. Back to it).

From El Calafate, we had a bright and early flight to Buenos Aires where we were staying for a couple of days before heading home. We flew into the domestic airport which is conveniently located in the city and then went on a public transit adventure… my favorite. And, a perfect place to start off a list of Buenos Aires first impressions! (Or, you can catch up on the history of Argentina first, HERE and HERE.)

1. Heat/Humidity – Okay, so this has nothing to do with public transit, but I feel like it needs to come first because this was truly my very first impression of the city. When Mike and I flew to Patagonia, we had to change planes in Buenos Aires and walk outside to switch terminals. It was the middle of the night, and the air felt like stepping into a bathroom after someone takes an hour-long, steaming-hot shower. With no ventilation. I have certainly experienced plenty of humidity in my life, but usually the night feels slightly less suffocating! NOPE. I was thankful that, from there, we flew south to cooler temperatures, but that was just delaying the inevitable. This time, we arrived in the morning, and between the humidity and the brutal sun, I was ready to get right back onto the plane.

Not a cloud in the sky! Usually this is considered a good thing, but my gosh what I would have paid for a few clouds riiight in front of the sun…

2. Public Transportation – It’s quick. It’s easy. It’s cheap. You can get practically anywhere in the city. Fresh off the plane, we set out to buy ourselves a transit card (I’m developing quite the collection of these) which was fairly straightforward except that you can’t buy the card and add money to it at the same place because that would be too easy. But, at least you were able to do both of those things at the airport! (If that sounds like it should be a given, trust me when I say it’s not.)

We also used the subway later in the day, and I’m a big fan. Partly because I was exhausted and it saved me from 40+ more minutes of walking… but also because it’s great! The line we took was clean and not shady and impressively prompt. Also, fun fact: the Buenos Aires subway was the first in South America! It was built in 1913 which, as you may recall, was during Argentina’s golden age.

If you need a Buenos Aires transit card, I’m your girl.

3. Bus Lines – I don’t mean bus routes. I mean lines of people WAITING for buses. I’ve never seen anything like this. At rush hour, the sidewalks are full of people lined up like they’re waiting for the latest iPhone. Kidding, there are no tents… but there are seemingly endless lines of people, and they’re just doing their regular commute, waiting for the bus. It’s crazy! And also nice in a way because people aren’t trying to edge you out to get on the bus before you. But, you need to know what you’re doing and start moving as soon as the right bus pulls up because people operate like a well-oiled machine. There’s no time for hesitation.

Also, bus drivers seem to always be in a rush, so be READY when it’s time for your stop. As in, be standing at the door, and start hopping off as soon as the bus slows and the door opens because a “slow”, rather than a stop, might be all you’re getting.

I know you’ve seen this picture before, but it’s the only one I have that even kind of shows the crazy width of the road. Since the obelisk is here, the big medians I mentioned have been replaced by the obelisk island. But, those buildings alllll the way across show where the street finally ends (and it doesn’t get wider here because of the obelisk… it’s this wide everywhere).

4. Avenida 9 de Julio – This is the major north/south boulevard in town, and I don’t even know how to begin explaining this street to you. Mike and I got to enjoy its dedicated bus lanes on the ride to our hostel. Not having to share space with the other traffic probably cut our travel time nearly in half.

How do they have space for these dedicated bus lanes? WELL. It’s the widest avenue in the world, and for maybe the first time after hearing a “most/best/biggest/etc. ___ in the world” claim, I immediately believed it. It’s literally an entire city block wide. Like if you built a city on a grid and then removed the buildings between two of the streets and paved the whole thing, this avenue would be the result. There were something like 16 lanes before the middle was blocked off for buses in 2013. (This is one of those times when I really wish I had thought to take a good picture, but alas, I’ve failed you all. I’m sorry. You can google it, though.)

Crossing it is no simple task and takes far too long. There are multiple traffic lights along the way and no chance of getting across on a single green. First, you cross three lanes of traffic. Then, there’s a “median” with a width equivalent to maybe seven lanes. Next, you cross six lanes, a small divider separating the bus lanes, and two dedicated bus lanes. Okay, now you’re in the middle of the street/where you need to be in order to get on a bus. But, if you’re just trying to get across, you still have two bus lanes, four lanes of traffic, another large median, and three more lanes of traffic before you’re safely to the other side. It’s at least as exhausting as it sounds, plus there’s not much shade which means you’re simultaneously getting fried by the sun. We avoided crossing whenever possible.

5. Drivers – In classic South American fashion, the roads are terrifying, and you couldn’t pay me enough to drive on them. Everyone drives like they’re in a massive hurry (which is funny because probably no one actually is… the pace of life is SLOOOOW), the road rules are mere suggestions, and the lines on the road are for decoration. Defensive street-crossing is required as a pedestrian unless you have a death wish (aka don’t assume that anyone is going to stop for you, even if you have right of way).

6. Money/ATMs – After we made it to our hostel/took some time to chill (literally… I felt like I was going to pass out), we headed back out to find somewhere to exchange money. This turned out to be a much more challenging task than expected. Normally, I would just use an ATM to get local currency, but the fees in Argentina were the highest I’ve ever experienced. For a single withdrawal, the fee was at least $10! (For reference, many ATMs will charge you nothing, or fees are usually in the $1-3 range.) My US bank reimburses ATM fees to a point, but we figured we’d just exchange money because I had some cash and we didn’t need much, making the high fee seem even more ridiculous.

WELL, that was a mess, too! I mean, there are plenty of shady dudes on the street yelling, “CAMBIO! CAMBIOCAMBIOCAMBIO!” (exchange) but forgive me if I didn’t have much confidence in their legitimacy. All of the legit exchange places would only change more than US$100, and we didn’t need even close to that for our last couple of days in the country. So, after all that, we ended up exhausted and frustrated… and getting money from an ATM (after googling to find out who had the least-unreasonable fees. Side note, the best ATM we found in Argentina was, shockingly, in the main airport. It had the lowest fees and the highest allowable withdrawal amount. Go figure).

Mike and I took a break from our exchange adventure to get some ice cream. This heaping cone gets all the credit for carrying me through the day.
That’s Eva Perón, former first lady of Argentina.
Can someone please explain to me why every other country in the world has prettier money than the US?

7. Exchange Rate – Besides the complexity of simply getting money, there’s the added confusion of the constantly-fluctuating exchange rate. When I was doing research and trying to figure out how much things cost, every piece of information I found seemed to be conflicting… unless the price was listed in USD. Since the value of Argentina’s currency is so unstable, many tourist attractions simply list prices in US dollars so that they don’t have to keep changing them.

8. “The Paris of South America” – NO, NO, NO. This is just the kind of ridiculous claim that I despise and immediately dismiss. While I refuse to accept this as an even remotely valid comparison, I will say that the architecture of the city has a very European vibe to it, more than Lima and Quito (the only other South American capitals I have personal experience with). If wrought-iron balconies and café culture were all there is to Paris, then sure. However, you could absolutely NOT go to Buenos Aires and then be like, “Well, guess I don’t need to go to Paris anymore because I’ve basically already been there!” NO.

Welcome to Paris!
Those balconies are fab, but get that glass monstrosity outta here. Paris of the South? Psh!

9. Accents – Every Spanish-speaking country has its own dialect and accent (just like US vs. British vs. Australian English), but Argentina takes it to another level. It’s like Spanish with an Italian accent and then some random Italian words sprinkled in for good measure. They refer to Argentinian Spanish there as “castellano”, and instead of saying that “cas-teh-yano” like you would in normal Spanish, you say “cas-teh-shano”. The “y” and double-L (usually pronounced “y”) take on more of a “sh” or soft “g” (like in “mirage”) sound. There are plenty more differences, but I’ll leave you with just that. We had no problem with people not understanding us, but my gosh it was hard to get used to understanding them!

10. Argentinian BBQ – You can’t go to Argentina without eating Argentinian barbecue (so I’ve been told). After primarily subsisting on ravioli, protein bars, and dried Ramen noodles (okay, that one was just me) during our time in Patagonia, Mike was VERY excited about this. On our first night in the city, we went to a place recommended by the receptionist at the hostel. I put him in charge of ordering since his excitement level far outweighed mine, and so, we split pork chops, a steak, and a plate of crispy waffle fries. What a balanced meal, right? A more thorough commitment to the cultural experience of barbecue would have included some intestines, but for some reason, he decided to skip those.

Mike raved about how inexpensive it was, while my eyes bugged out at the prices when I opened the menu. This is the difference between someone used to NYC restaurant prices and someone used to eating 50-cent-a-bag pasta in a hostel kitchen. (In this case, I’m sure Mike was right, that it was inexpensive for what we got. I’ve also never ordered a steak in a restaurant before, so I had no reasonable reference point.)

They’re not messing around. At the top, it says, “A burning stove is the heart of Buenos Aires.”
Protein, anyone?
There’s actually nothing better than waffle fries. Between these and the ice cream, this was really an ideal Lara food day.

After our protein- and carb-laden dinner, we jetted back to the hostel, courtesy of the subway system, and totally crashed (us, not the subway). Whew! Heat and humidity really take it out of you! Thankfully, we had a functional air conditioner in our room, saving us from the choice between a million mosquito bites from keeping our windows open or potentially dying of heatstroke from keeping them closed. Talk about luxury living!

Last time, we talked about Argentina’s transformation from a land of indigenous tribes to a Spanish colony to an independent republic. It entered the 20th century in the middle of a very prosperous golden age. During WWI, it remained neutral which allowed it to export goods to countries on both sides of the conflict.

Unfortunately, in 1929, the global depression reached Argentina, and things took a downward turn. The president’s policies accelerated unemployment, and he was removed from office by a 1930 coup d’état, the first of SIX coups in the 20th century. The years after were filled with electoral fraud, persecution and execution of the opposition, and general government corruption. Abroad, WWII was brewing, and Argentina did its best to stay neutral again, mostly for strategic reasons as it was a major food supplier to Great Britain, and joining the Allies would put its cargo ships at risk. Due to mounting international pressure, Argentina did declare war on the Axis powers in 1944, though the majority of citizens supported continued neutrality.

A 1943 military coup brought in a new era. Various leaders took power over the following years, the most influential of whom was Juan Domingo Perón. He was appointed Minister of Labor after the coup which helped to build his popularity with the lower class. He used his position to strengthen unions, raise the minimum wage, and improve working conditions. After he was elected president in 1946, he became a dictator, increasing the powers of the president, censoring the media, appointing friends as advisors, and imprisoning rivals… but also working towards economic independence and for social justice. His wife, Eva, was very popular with the working class as well and led a great deal of charitable work to their benefit. Together, they were a political power couple. During his presidency, there were improvements in infrastructure, education, and social programs… and with that came increased spending and national debt. The peso’s value plummeted.

What a fab flag.
That’s Eva Perón painted on the side of that building. The last president, Cristina Kirchner, erected a lot of monuments during her term. This one was added in 2010 on the side of the Ministry of Health and Social Development as a nod to Eva’s charitable work.

Perón’s presidency had a rough end. Eva died from cancer in 1952. A coup removed Juan from office and forced him into exile in 1955. For 20 years, the leadership was primarily unstable military dictatorships. The people were dissatisfied, the government weak and unreliable. There were two more coups.

In 1973, Juan Perón was once again elected president and came out of exile. This time, his goal was political peace, and he worked to promote harmony and rebuild the country with his new wife, Isabel, as vice president. After only a year, he died in office from a heart attack, leaving Isabel as president and grossly unprepared for the job. After an economic collapse, she lost the people’s confidence and, in 1976, was removed by the sixth military coup in 50 years.

This began the final military dictatorship with a government that sought to destroy the populism that developed under Perón by whatever means. The subsequent years became known as the Dirty War. Anyone suspected of holding contrary views was an enemy, and over seven years, 9000 – 30000 people disappeared. The numbers are so uncertain because no lists of those arrested have been found. Many of them were young, from high school age to young professionals. They vanished without a trace, taken from their homes at night. They were held in concentration camps, tortured, raped, and murdered. Many were killed by being thrown out of planes over the Atlantic. Despite knowing full well what was happening, the US sent millions of dollars in aid to the provisional government during this period. Later, it was also discovered that an estimated 500 babies were kidnapped from prisoners and given to military families.

Starting in 1977, mothers of “los desaparecidos” (the disappeared) marched weekly around the main plaza in protest, demanding to know the fates of their children. By walking instead of standing in protest, they avoided breaking laws against congregating. At first, they were largely ignored by police, seen as a harmless group of old women. However, in 1978, they managed to spread awareness of their plight when the World Cup came to Argentina and brought international journalists with it.

The dictatorship finally ended in 1983, but it took years for justice to truly be served. At first, the new president, Raúl Alfonsín, aggressively investigated the military government and quickly put the leadership on trial for their crimes. He also decreased general government corruption by half. However, fearing justice, the military threatened another coup unless Alfonsín pardoned them. He gave in to their demands to preserve democracy, signing a law that he disagreed with and that was unpopular with the people, and granted amnesty to all others involved in the Dirty War crimes.

Headscarves are a symbol of the Madres de Mayo. They wore headscarves from the beginning, embroidered with the names of their lost kids. This sign says, “We don’t forget, we don’t forgive, we don’t reconcile.”

In 2005, the amnesty laws were finally revoked, and investigations resumed. The Grandmothers and Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo never stopped protesting, and they continue to march every Thursday to raise awareness, demand answers and justice that still have not come, and keep the memories of their children alive. The Grandmothers of the Plaza de Mayo encourage people born during this time period to get DNA tested to learn if they were among the kidnapped.

Madres de la Plaza de Mayo protest. As you can see, it’s more than just mothers now. Many other family members protest too, for various reasons. For example, there are people whose parents were abducted while their mothers were pregnant, and they are hoping to find a long-lost brother or sister (often, babies would be delivered by c-section before the mothers were killed and then given away to military families).

Otherwise, the major issue remained Argentina’s economy. The next president, Carlos Menem, privatized many industries made public during Perón’s presidency. Despite efforts to get the government debt under control, the economy collapsed in 1999, and Argentina entered another depression. The peso was incredibly devalued. People panicked and tried to withdraw all of their money from banks until withdrawals had to be limited. By mid-2002, the peso was at 25% of its former value.

The Plaza de Mayo, the central square in Buenos Aires, is surrounded by the President’s offices, the old cabildo (town hall), and the Cathedral of Buenos Aires. It’s a popular gathering spot for both people and, apparently, birds.

Finally, things started to take a turn for the better. President Eduardo Duhalde appointed Roberto Lavagna, a moderate economist, as Minister of Economy. Lavagna’s reforms brought inflation under control, and in 2003, with the economy on an upswing, the president deemed his work complete and called for elections.

Since then, the economy has continued to have ups and downs. The peso’s value is still constantly in flux, to the point where prices are sometimes listed in US dollars (especially for tourist-type things) to avoid having to change them all the time. I don’t know enough about economics to really understand what’s happening, but the short version is that the economy is still a bit of a mess.

Final fun fact – President Néstor Kirchner was elected in 2003 and his wife, Cristina Fernández de Kirchner, was elected after him in 2007. I don’t have much more to say about them… I just think it’s interesting that there have been multiple husband-wife duos involved in the leadership of Argentina.

And there you have it! The (very abridged) history of Argentina, from the 1400s to now. Is your head spinning? My head is spinning. Next time I promise more pictures! But context is always good for helping to understand a country. When we meet again, be ready to explore Buenos Aires!

Welcome back to Argentina! I know it’s been a while… I’ve put off this post because I had to do some research, and that’s always a bit more time-intensive than when I primarily have pretty pictures to show. Once I get going, I enjoy researching and learning new things, but why is it always so hard to get started? Anyway, you’ve already waited long enough, so let’s get to it! It’s time for some Argentina History!

Like elsewhere in the Americas, Argentina started off with small settlements of various indigenous people groups. Most of these were in the southern part of the country, in what’s now called Patagonia. There were a few different ethnic groups, one of which I’ve mentioned before, the Tehuelche people who were responsible for the name of the park Mike and I visited in Chile, Torres del Paine.

The largest empire of pre-Spanish America was the Inca Empire, but it only crept into a small part of northwestern Argentina in the late 1400s, lasting about 50 years until the Europeans arrived in the early 1500s. Portuguese explorers Gonçalo Coelho and Amerigo Vespucci landed in Brazil in 1502. The Spanish arrived in Argentina in 1516, and the first explorer was killed by tribespeople. Twenty years later (1536), they returned to start a small settlement in the current location of Buenos Aires. It lasted just five years.

The Spanish didn’t give up, though, and in 1542 formed a colony called the Viceroyalty of Peru which included the majority of South America. The main port of this colony was Lima (Peru) on the Pacific side, and there was no Atlantic port. This was great for Lima but bad for everywhere else as it added months to the transport of goods.

The obelisk was built in 1936 as a monument to the 400th birthday of Buenos Aires.
This statue in the main square (Plaza de Mayo) in Buenos Aires depicts Manuel José Joaquín del Corazón de Jesús Belgrano y González… aka Manuel Belgrano (gotta love those Spanish names). He was one of the liberators during the Argentine War of Independence and created the new country’s flag in 1812!

Finally, 1776 saw the reorganization of the colonies and formation of the new Viceroyalty of the Rio de la Plata which included Argentina, Chile, Bolivia, Paraguay, and Uruguay. Free from the control of Lima, Buenos Aires became a bustling port and was set up for a prosperous future. (Crazy side note – the Spanish colonies were considered the king’s personal possessions. Can you imagine claiming ownership of half a continent??? That’s absurd!)

Elsewhere in the world, the Spanish were struggling. With the king distracted by the Peninsular War in Spain, the colonists were forced to fend for themselves. They held off two British invasions in 1806 and 1807 and grew confident in their ability to survive apart from Spain. This fed a growing desire for independence as the colonists were already frustrated with underrepresentation in Spanish politics and bans on trade with any country besides Spain. When King Ferdinand VII was captured in 1808, the colonists decided it was time for the Americas to be left to self-rule.

In May of 1810, the colonists overthrew the viceroy, kicking off the Argentine War of Independence. After declaring independence in 1816, Argentina simultaneously entered a civil war as the new country disagreed on whether there should be a strong, centralized government (the Unitarians) or a federation of autonomous provinces like the USA (the Federalists).

Finally, a constitution was signed in 1853, forming the Argentine Republic. It created a government with three branches (legislative, executive, and judicial) and divided power between them, creating a strong executive government with representation from every province. Buenos Aires was the last province to join the new republic and became part of Argentina in 1862.

The Buenos Aires Cabildo housed the town council during colonial times and was the government house of the Viceroyalty of the Rio de la Plata. Our tour guide said that this is where the colonists gathered in 1810 and decided to seek independence from Spain (that’s my disclaimer that this may or may not be correct haha. Tour guides say a lot of things…).
The Argentinian Parliament. Fun fact it apparently has the largest bronze cupola in the world (a category which I’m sure has a lot of stiff competition) at 18m tall. The building was inaugurated in 1906 but wasn’t finished until about 40 years later.

Finally, Argentina had some stability! The country prospered thanks to Buenos Aires’s position as a major South American port and became a diverse cultural center. Unfortunately, this golden age only lasted about 50 years. Next time, we’ll talk about Argentina’s tumultuous 20th century. Get ready for coup d’états galore!

The Argentine flag

As well as I slept during our first night in Canta, that’s how poorly I slept the second night (despite having an exhausting day). The major issues were 1. Jocelyn coughed at 1AM, and then I was awake when 2. a marching band started playing around the same time. You may be wondering, why did Jocelyn’s cough wake me up? Am I really THAT light of a sleeper? The answer is no, I’m not, but Jocelyn coughed IN MY FACE. Yes, that’s right. I woke up, completely confused. I mean, I knew what happened, but I didn’t understand why our faces were so close together and why we were facing each other. I made a sound like, “ehhuw”, rolled over, and pulled a blanket up to block her face in case she coughed again. Then she coughed, definitely woke up, realized what happened, gave a sleepy/embarrassed, “oh,” and rolled over as well so we were back to back. At the time, I was VERY irritated because that’s what happens when I get woken up in the middle of the night (PSA: steer clear of sleeping Lara), but when we talked about it in the morning and confirmed that yes, it did happen, and yes, we were both aware of it, the whole situation was just funny. On the topic of the marching band, I don’t know anything more than what I already said. The constant questions of international living: “Huh?” and “But… why?”

In the morning (aka at an acceptable time for being awake), we decided to get moving quickly to avoid the traffic. We were headed home, so we packed up the car and headed to Obrajillo for breakfast. Before leaving Canta, I walked with Jocelyn and Kylie up a little hill nearby where we had an awesome view of the mountains. It had rained the night before, so the air was clear and the greens were extra vibrant.

Can you believe this view?? The greens are practically glowing
Looking back over Canta
Definitely worth the 2-minute walk to this view.
What do you think of this roof-fastening method? It seems effective (at least until a rock shifts and falls through your roof).

Amazingly, we made it to Obrajillo without any traffic delays. We all ate our daily egg sandwiches and then piled back into the van to make one more stop before starting the trek home. Kylie wanted to visit this other little town, Aqochaka, that was supposed to be really pretty and had a “famous” bridge. The road to get there from Obrajillo is nice and skinny and winds up and around the mountains, giving us some breathtaking views… and also some heart attacks because it’s one of those roads where, if someone’s coming the other way, you need to back up until you find a little pull-off and it seems inevitable that someone is going to end up tumbling down the side of the mountain. But, we survived, and I wasn’t driving, so it was all good.

Down time before breakfast
The trusty van in the most attractive surroundings of its life. Look at those blue skies!
Looking towards Obrajillo on the road to Aqochaka

Once we got to the town, no one was really sure what we were supposed to do there. We checked out the “famous” bridge… I don’t know how many people have to know about something in order for it to be famous, but I have my doubts about the famousness of that bridge (if this is any indication, the bridge doesn’t even have a marker on Google maps). Either way, it was interesting and kind of terrifying and obviously we walked across it because what else do you do with a famous bridge? (Well, we also posed on it and tried very hard not to fall into the water and die.)

Standing on the modern/stable bridge next to the old/mildly terrifying/famous stone bridge
Took this from atop the stone bridge with a death grip on my phone
Probably loading this bridge to its limits… Even though it’s really not THAT narrow and it’s relatively stable-looking, I was still ready to get off of it ASAP. Like, how much confidence do I really want to put in this old stone bridge in middle-of-nowhere Peru?
Pretending that we’re not terrified of falling in…
The most awkward posing as everyone was trying to keep from throwing someone else off balance.
Not an especially comforting view
Happy to be in the mountains!
Pleeease don’t make us go back to the desert
Now, THIS is where I would choose to camp for the weekend. These people know what’s up.
Lone horse

Then, we wandered a bit, and the farther we got from town, the more spectacular the scenery became. I wish we had more time because I would have been happy to just keep going and see where we ended up… but we did need to go home eventually (psh).

These mountains feel very abrupt… it’s flat, flat, flat and then BAM you hit a wall of green.
Savoring our last minutes of green landscapes
Can you find Dina’s daughter and me? Hehehe good luck.
Kylie and me
I must have been feeling pretty good about my luck that day because this bridge was even more questionable than the first. I did walk with my feet over the two beams running underneath, though, instead of trusting the integrity of the individual boards (because they were NOT trustworthy).
The girls!
I know I was making fun of Aqochaka and its probably-not-very-famous bridge, but like… can I please move here?
Love!

The ride home wasn’t as traffic-free as the ride there. We hit our first spot of traffic on the road between Aqochaka and Obrajillo, though thankfully not on the “tumble down the mountain” part of the road. I know I’ve complained about Peruvian traffic before, but here’s the major problem: there’s this Peruvian phenomenon where as soon as there’s traffic, everyone becomes a traffic conductor. Everyone knows the best way to end the traffic jam, and they all get out of their cars to put in their two cents. In reality, no one knows what they’re doing. And then there are going to be at least five people trying to do the same job, all recommending different courses of action. And the drivers are still doing whatever the heck they want. The whole thing is doomed to failure before it even starts. It’s the same story every single time, and it actually might be contagious because every time it happens, I find myself wanting to get out and direct traffic because I’m SURE that I know better.

The weekend squad… in the front: me, Jocelyn, Julie, Dina, and her daughter, and in the back: Paul, Kylie, and David

Anyway, once we got through that, we were fine until we got back to Lima. It was good, actually, because most of the drive was downhill which meant that we weren’t as worried about the car breaking down. Worst case, we could just coast back to the city (kidding… mostly).

The final event of our trip was a stop at the car wash. The van was a disaster, and since we had borrowed it from EA, we wanted to return it looking like it hadn’t just come out of a dust bowl. So, we stopped at a car wash off the highway near home.

Now, don’t be thinking that this is a drive-thru style car wash. It’s one dude with a powerful hose, a sponge, and some towels. The Peruvians got out and waited in this little seating area outside. The Americans were all lazy and said we’d just stay in the car. That would have been fine… except that apparently, the van isn’t even CLOSE to watertight. Kylie got blasted with some dirty water through a gap between the sliding glass windowpanes. There was water running along the edges of the floor and draining out the trunk. The metal above the sliding doors is literally rusted through, so yeah, those aren’t sealed anymore. Paul found that out the hard way with a nice dirt-water shower when the hose blasted by.

The good news is, Julie took a video so you can feel like you’re right in the middle of the action.

The perfect end to a very strange/wonderful weekend, don’t you think?

**This is my final post about volunteering in Peru. Next time, we’re headed back to Argentina! We left off at the end of Mike’s and my time in Patagonia and the beginning of our visit to Buenos Aires. For those of you (the majority, I’m sure) who have been missing my history lessons, get excited because we’re about to dive into some Argentina history.

After winging it on our first day in Canta, we started off Day #2 with a very well-defined plan: hike to “that” waterfall. See photo below for details… (Can you find the waterfall?)                                         

Took this picture while speeding down the road between Canta and Obrajillo (David was appreciating the open road after we got past a spot of traffic). Have you located the waterfall? Scroll down for help…
To orient you, Obrajillo is in the valley to the right, the overlook is at the edge of a village, San Miguel, and we hiked up to the waterfall trickle that you can barely see (which seems kind of close to San Miguel, but I promise you that it’s not).

Okay, so the plan was vague, but Julie did some research and came away with the conclusion that it’s definitely possible to hike there (probably). The directions, as far as she could find, were to start by walking up to a popular viewpoint overlooking Obrajillo. Okay, easy enough. And then, walk to the waterfall. Hm. Welp, at least we knew the beginning part! We could figure things out from there, right?

The good news is, I love to overpack for hikes which means I was already prepared for uncertainty. My formula for day hikes is roughly: (day hike + 4 days) x # of people… and then I pack snacks and water accordingly, as though no one else is bringing anything (even though they are). It’s good to be prepared! What if someone else is underprepared? What if we get lost? What if someone gets hurt? What if there’s a mudslide and we get stranded and don’t want to resort to cannibalism? No one ever says, “I wish we had less food.” Worst case, you don’t need it all and get stronger from carrying the extra weight.

Once we were ready for anything, we walked to get breakfast sandwiches before heading out. This was our staple meal for the weekend (literally 3/5 meals in Canta): a fried egg on a roll. After you eat approximately four, you’re good to go! Then, we piled into the van and drove down to Obrajillo. There was traffic because of course there was. As soon as there are two cars on the road, it seems to be inevitable (I think it’s because Peruvian are so proud of their traffic, they need to make sure it’s always living up to its terrible reputation).

After we parked, we located the path to the viewpoint, and David, Dina, and her daughter split off to do other things… apparently the idea of a potentially endless hike didn’t appeal to them. Sorry, I mean “adventure walk”. Julie doesn’t like “hiking”, so we rebranded the activity. That ended up being a much more appropriate name in this instance anyway. “Hike” implies order, a defined path. “Adventure walk” says “I don’t know where we’re going, but that’s part of the fun!”

At the viewpoint
I can’t get over the greens! Maybe if they knew THIS was the view they were missing out on… nah, they still would have ditched us.

Anyway, the path to the overlook was easy enough to follow. Maybe that could be called a hike. From there, it was inarguably an adventure walk. After the viewpoint, we started asking every person we met for directions. That may sound like overkill, but it was a necessity. When people don’t know the answer to your question, they don’t say, “I don’t know.” They say, “Oh, it’s that way!” and point and say it with full confidence and make you think they have a clue. So, the only way to be safe is to ask as many people as possible, rate their trustworthiness, compare answers, pick a direction, and remind yourself that not knowing where you’re going is part of the fun.

Another album cover option
I love these mountains.
Like seriously. (Also, that’s Canta on the left.)
HOW ARE THERE SO MANY GREENS? Also, fun fact did you know that the human eye can differentiate more shades of green than any other color?

The good news was that we could see the waterfall, Catarata de Shupucro, in the distance. The bad news was that it wasn’t clear how to get there. Even now, the only thing of which I’m certain is that our beginning route was NOT right… because there was no path, and we ended up inside the locked gates of a school. So, thanks for nothing, people who gave us directions up until that point.

Okay, let’s try again with the directions. We asked the school groundskeeper (who looked confused about why we were on the school property… yeah, same) and he unconvincingly pointed us in a direction. A few steps later, a woman vaguely motioned that was as well. Finally, we found a guy who confidently pointed at a path and said it would take us 2 hours to get there. He had the highest trustworthiness ranking. Welp, nothing left to do but cross our fingers and start walking!

Obrajillo. And some fab mountains
Despondent donkey on the path. He was probably trying to find the waterfall as well.
Just starting out, back when we were so young and naive
I mean, it’s kind of like being in an airplane… The earth looks like a patchwork quilt.

Our biggest mistake was asking for more directions after trustworthy-guy. Right as we started up the path, we saw a few people coming down. Julie asked how far it was to the waterfall, and the guy said 20 minutes (LIES) and then gave some directions for how to get there. They seemed trustworthy… I mean, they had just come from there, so you’d think they’d know something. YOU WOULD BE WRONG.

The way up was unpleasant. The path was well-defined but also steep and rocky, and we were all feeling the effects of the altitude. Eventually, Jocelyn tapped out and told us to pick her up on our way back down. I felt bad leaving her, but she clearly wasn’t going to change her mind. We left her just before a fork in the path where we started following the directions of the guy we saw coming down.

Taking a breath before scaling these rocks…
Trail friends

Wrong choice. Very, very wrong. I still don’t know what we should have done, but definitely not that. We ended up on the wrong side of the mountain, and after maybe 30 minutes of walking up the worst ever uphills, we bumped into a couple coming down. Julie asked if we were going to the waterfall, and they said, “No, this is the path to the cross!” And then they pointed at this teeeeeny tiny cross at the top of a mountain in the distance. Can you spot the cross?:

(Scroll for assistance hahaha)
THERE it is. My gosh. Is there anything about this picture that makes you want to walk to that cross??? It looks like torture.
This is me, standing on the path to the cross, looking up at the trail ahead, zig-zagging up this steep mountainside. No, thank you.
Happy because we were taking a break
The only benefit of going the wrong way was getting this view of the valley
Flowery mountainsides

Yeah, no thank you. So, we turned around and tried to find where we went wrong. At this point, we also realized that we were almost all the way back to Jocelyn, so we sent Paul to bring her to meet us. She was nice and rested after her 40-minute break, and we were exhausted after our spirit-crushing uphill climb to nowhere.

Time to change strategies. We could see the waterfall, so instead of looking for the “right” path, we decided to walk towards it until we got there. I’m Peruvian-giving-directions confident that we took the proper route, and I will now describe it here, just in case you ever find yourself hiking in Canta: when you get to the fork in the path, don’t go left. Also, don’t go right. Instead, walk across the poop-covered field, following no path. Jump down the 5’ wall into the cornfield. Cross the field and climb over the short wall at the other side, taking care to avoid the cacti on top (nature’s barbed wire). Cross the river. Walk along the river until you reach a big rock and little waterfall. Cross the river again. Climb up the 7’ rock wall. Continue to walk towards the waterfall until you see a path. Follow the path to the waterfall.

Walking through the poop-filled field
Keeping our eyes on the waterfall while hopefully not destroying this cornfield
Can you spot the Lara? I’m hiding somewhere in this picture!
Exhaustion break disguised as a photo op
Wildflowers
Climbing up the final stretch

Got that? I couldn’t have made it any clearer. No wonder no one could give us directions!

As is generally the case with waterfalls, the view of the actual waterfall wasn’t great from up close. We did, however, get a better view of the valley and took a moment to pat ourselves on the backs because we made it!

Almost there! Almost there!
Sliding my way towards the waterfall
We made it, we made it!!
A little delirious
Waterfall view from the top

The hike up had been steep and tiring, but the way down was brutal. Lots of slipping and sliding with a few falls. Jocelyn had the worst luck. On one of her falls, she caught herself on a cactus and got a cactus spine stuck in her finger. We tried to pull it out on the trail but couldn’t get a good grip or tell how deep it went. I had tweezers at the hotel, so she decided we should just leave it until we got back.

Finally getting back to flat ground!
Can’t believe we were at that waterfall…

The layers in this picture are crazy… the bright green foreground, the hazy green middle (thank you, smog), and the low clouds above, chopping off the mountain tops.

Once we got past the steep part, the rest of the return trip was easy. Well, there was one part where a rock wall collapsed beneath me, but it’s fine because Kylie caught me by the backpack and saved me from disaster. It’s good to have friends with quick reflexes!

Kylie, me, and Julie

 

Going down
Found this kitten model on the way back to town
Shepherd keeping an eye on his sheep
Spot the sheep!

Back in town, we met up with David, Dina, and her daughter and drove back to Canta. Our first order of business was getting the spine out of Jocelyn’s finger. I got my tweezers and tried to ease it out, thinking it might be short. That did nothing, so Jocelyn braced herself and I pulled as hard as I could until it came out. It felt like I was going to pull her finger off! When it finally gave, we all freaked out because it was SO much longer than we thought. I can’t believe she walked around with that thing stuck in her finger for like 4 hours! And I can’t imagine how much the extraction hurt. Geez! Jocelyn wins the pain tolerance award.

We headed to dinner after the drama and devoured our food, only slightly hampered by the nightly power outage. It’s clearly not an uncommon occurrence because the waitress was prepared, bringing in an emergency light. And then the power came back on… and went out, and came on, and went out. Geez, just leave it off.

Back at the hotel, we made a solid effort to stay awake a little longer (it was only like 7:30PM) and eventually gave up and passed out. What a day!

The cactus spine

Now that you’ve seen the final building pictures, you’re probably thinking that we’re finished with Peru and Esperanza de Ana and ready to move on to the next thing, right? Well, yes, we probably should be, but I realized while writing about our Ica weekend that there was another trip I briefly mentioned, said I would write about in more detail later… and then never did. *sigh* We’ll give last-year-Lara a break because she was a little overwhelmed, but now is the time to right that wrong and tell you about our Easter trip to Canta! (Hehehe better late than never, right?)

The week before Easter was a short one, and the break came at just the right time… approximately one second before I lost my mind or collapsed in a puddle of my own tears (to set the scene, I had only been in Peru for about a month and a half and was feeling the pressure of the work + unfamiliar working/living conditions + wrapping my head around having committed to a year in Peru when the first six weeks had already been a rough adjustment period). The major motivations for the weekend getaway were 1. Everyone else felt similarly exhausted and wanted to escape from EA for a few days, 2. We were sick of the brown desert-ness of Chilca and were craving green landscapes, and 3. Julie’s friend Kylie was visiting from the States, and there’s nothing like a guest to motivate action!

And so, a trip was inevitable. But, to where? One of the staff suggested Canta because it’s not too far away, but the mountains are green and there are outdoor activities. That was enough to sell me! Julie also convinced David and Dina, the two Peruvian missionaries at EA, to come with us, and besides adding more fun to the group, David can drive which saved us from the mess of navigating the public buses. Thank goodness. And so, we had quite the travel crew: Jocelyn, Julie, Kylie, Paul (the intern from the beginning of the year), David, Dina, Dina’s daughter, and me. Can you say “party”?

I think mountain roads are amazing. They must have been such a pain in the butt to build! For this one, whenever a hill got in the way, they were like, “NOPE you’re going to have to move” and just cut a chunk out.
Green!! Teeny little hints of life!

Canta is northeast of Lima, so we left at 5:15AM to avoid the horrible Lima traffic. Yuck. The good news is that it worked! The anticipated six-hour drive only took four! I can’t give all the credit to the lack of traffic, though. It’s also because David drives, well, fast. Even on windy mountain roads. Even in the 12-person EA van that’s poised to rust apart at any moment. BUT, we were so distracted by the sight of real mountains flecked with green that it almost didn’t matter that we all thought we might throw up with each turn and that I bounced off my seat and headfirst into the ceiling with each bump. As we got closer, the surroundings got greener, and we got more excited.

View during a stretch break along the drive. Spot the toilet! (Why???)
We found this random moto-taxi on the same stretch break as the random toilet. Julie and I had a dream of recording a stereotypical reggaeton-pop music video. They’re all essentially the same… some dramatic shots by the ocean, people partying in the streets of a village, and a fancy car. But instead of a fancy car, we’d use a moto-taxi because they’re way cooler. Anyway, we’re weird, and this was meant to be our album cover.

We made it to the hotel around 9:30AM, and everyone felt like we had already lived a whole day. I was sure it was 2PM. None of us felt capable of existing without a nap, so we all passed out and moaned and groaned when it was time to get up, only managing to do so because we were starving.

Walking through the streets of Canta
Jocelyn and I shared a twin-sized bed, and Kylie and Julie shared a full-size bed with a mattress covered in plastic (see colorful plastic in the bottom left). This is truly the height of luxury.

We piled in the car and drove down to Obrajillo, a small town in the valley nearby. It’s gorgeous! There are mountains all around, a river running through the center of town, a bunch of waterfalls… and approximately a bazillion Peruvians who were also escaping Lima for the long weekend. We saw no other non-Peruvians, but apparently, Canta is a hot vacation spot for people who live in Lima.

We had a brief delay while driving through the streets of Canta, thanks to this herd of sheep hehehehe. Why is it that animals in the street never get less funny?? Where are they going?
Driving out of Canta towards Obrajillo
This is the church in Obrajillo, and we were entertained every time we drove past. I assume that’s supposed to be God popping out above the doors like a jack-in-the-box? Interesting architectural decision. (This is why I generally like mosque decor better… geometric patterns never look so unsettling.)
Lunch, anyone? Just casually cooking some flattened meat in the street.
The Chillón River, running through the center of Obrajillo
Our clean van. Dina’s daughter practiced her finger-cursive by writing our names in the dirt. Ew.

After we ate and felt semi-human again, the group decided to go horseback riding to a nearby waterfall. I decided that I didn’t want to ride a horse and instead opted to ride ATVs with David and Paul! There were only two ATVs, though, and when we asked if two of us could share, the woman said, “el joven y la chiquita pueden compartir.” The youth and the little girl can share. Little girl? 😂 Hey, I’ll take it.

Paul drove on the way there. The ATV rental man rode along with David and was very concerned that we were going to be reckless and fall off a cliff. “DESPACIO!” (Slowly!) was his constant call, and Paul mostly pretended he couldn’t hear/understand him. I think that the only speed slow enough for the ATV man to be assured of our safety was 0 mph.

The horseback riding crew on the way to the waterfall
Don’t we look like we can be trusted? (Also, LOL at the helmets they gave us. Regulation ATV helmets for sure.)

The waterfall at the end, Cascada de Huamanmayo, was just a little thing, but I’m not hard to please. I thought it was great! There was a trail up to the waterfall from the road, and when we reached a point where the trail was flooded, we scrambled our way across the rocks in the river, doing various gymnastic maneuvers to get a closer look. It was kind of like a team-building challenge. We all worked together to strategize the best route and help each other across. I loved it. Also, the water was FREEZING, so there was plenty of motivation to stay dry.

Travel friends! Except for David because he was taking the picture. This is at the first waterfall… just pretend that you can see up, up, up the hill behind us because that’s where the waterfall is. Also, ignore all of the horse poop on the ground in front of us hahaha.
Me and Jocelyn, finding a way across
The grand Cascada de Huamanmayo

When we’d had our fill, we headed back to our horses/ATVs. I got to drive on the way back! It was my first time driving an ATV, a fact of which Paul was apparently unaware until we were already on our way. Hehe. But I’m sure I did a fabulous job. And the ATV man was far behind us, so there was no one to cramp my style as I whipped around the corners. Kidding! Kind of… All that matters is, I didn’t fall over the edge, and I didn’t have any close calls. Nothing to worry about! Plus, we were wearing helmets (that would have been completely worthless had we fallen off the cliff), and I was totally a natural.

Jocelyn and I really started to cement our friendship on this trip (she clearly loves me).
Born for this.

We hit some heavy traffic on the way back, something that became an ongoing theme during our trip. How is there traffic in the middle of nowhere? Well, when you have a single-lane, two-way road (as in, a single lane for both ways to share, not for each way) being used by cars, buses, horses, ATVs, and motorcycles, how could there NOT be traffic?

Cascada de Lucle

We were all tired after that mess but decided to walk across town to see one more waterfall, Cascada de Lucle, before heading back to Canta. This one is in a campsite, and it was so crowded that it was like a music festival campground but without the music. Definitely not the place to go to if you want to commune with nature for the weekend!

And yet, it was still absolutely beautiful. We walked uphill for a better view of the valley. So green! I didn’t realize how starved I was for green until we were surrounded by it and my heart was jumping for joy. It may sound stupid, but living in a brown wasteland takes a mental toll.

Finally, it started to get dark (I say “finally” because we spent the whole day just trying to survive until it was time to sleep again). We stopped for dinner at another generic restaurant on our way back to the hotel, and the power went out/came back like 12 times while we were there. Oh, the joys of rural living! I awed the group with the classic water bottle lantern trick (shine a phone flashlight up into a water bottle to diffuse the light). We unquestionably had the best-lit table in the restaurant. Mom and Dad will be happy to hear that I’m still putting that lighting design degree to good use!

Waterfall adventures!
A picture of one restaurant in Obrajillo that might as well be every restaurant in Obrajillo. They’re all the same.

From there, it was back to the hotel, and even though it was dark outside, it was only about 7:30PM… so we stayed awake for a few more hours and then completely crashed.