And So It Begins...

Ah yes, the sweet smell of...what the hell is that? Jesus...this whole country smells like a giant tailpipe. Seriously! Where to begin. Let´s start on the plane ride down here.

The trip down from JFK to Miami, except for being an hour late, was completely painless. Plane was about 20% full so I got a whole row to myself and had a little siesta while subconsciously nodding to my iPod. We landed, got out and I got to strech my legs a little bit at Miami International. Upon rentry, I realized that the 9 huor flight down to Buenos Aires would be a little more cramped, yet the same row of seats that I had to myself from New York was still open after some ADD/cracked-out/absurdly dressed/obviously new father kept freaking and running over to his newborn son ultimately leaving the whole row open. I jumped at the opportunity for an entire row to myself, staked my ground with strategic book/magazine/water bottle placing only to come back from the bathroom to see some older woman keeled over to the right, taking up 2.5 seats and offering me gum as reconciliation (Note: Aregentian Extra Bubble Gum tastes like Bolivian Extra Maalox, I´ll pass next time thank you). Wasn´t that bad though. Managed to get some sleep and seeing as I´ve been up since 7AM here (one hour ahead of NYC), I feel pretty damn good. Let´s get to the good stuff shall we?

One thing that strikes you immediately leaving the airport is the smog, it sucks, it´s ugly and given these peoples affinity for smokíng cigarettes I´m surprised babies aren´t born with stage 3 lung cancer. The Chinese people go running around Shanghai with Dr. Mengele masks yet these people must believe that Buenos Aires stays true to its name, consider me part of the dissenting minority in that department; there is nothing Buenos about this Aires.

I get my bags and make my way towards the ´remise´ taxi section. Apparently there is something called the ´taxi mafia´ here and my driver was telling me that if you don´t use a remise (basically a stripped down limo service) you could end up floating face down in the River Plate as immgrant El Salvadorians use your bladder as a life raft. Not sure if this was a sales pitch or a true story but I have his company´s number in my cell phone and they will be responsible for all my transportation needs.

The hostel is quite nice. I´m roomed with two German guys (Jurgen and Tomas), a Dutch chick (Else) and some British girl who seemed on the verge of a nervous breakdown when I introduced myself yet only later did I find out it was because she didn´t have any money to pay for the hostel. I´m guessing I won´t be seeing her again. Showering and all things pertaining to using the bathroom is a chore. There are 3 bathrooms for roughly 20 guests so getting access to the damn thing requires cunning and guile but after a few minutes of darting around I managed to hop into a shower. It´s actually quite nice, the window overlooks a little courtyard and if I were so inclicned I could pee on the people taking their morning coffee below and blame it on a leaky valve. Moving along, I got dressed and after a brief chat with the very helpful hostel guy, headed out. Aside from doing a lot (A LOT!) of walking, here are some observations:

1)I´m lucky that I am not writing this entry from the hood of a rogue delivery truck. Yes, the stop signs here read ´PARE´ and they are ubiquitous but they may as well read ´DARE´ as the drivers hold the signs in as high a regard as they do the pedestrians crossing the street. In this country, anything that feeds on fossil fuels has the right of way.

2) I was out for about 5 hours and in that time saw 2 massive political demonstrations completely halt traffic. The first one was a bunch of elderly people campaigning for a guy with a moustache. I´m not sure what the ruckus was for but they were pissed and moving, really, really slowly. Some people in the rabble had walkers, others had canes but damned if El Moustache didn´t get elected to office, freed from prison or whatever the purpose of this mass of humanity was for.

The next demonstration was a little more organized and consisted of people in green vests, beating drums, lighting firecrackers and yes, holding up more traffic. I got the sense that there was some labor party element here some guy even offered me one of the green smoks but I declined fearing it could have been rally on behalf of Quadaffi and his Libiyan people. The funny thing about both events was that the Police were actually clearing traffic for the protesters as they made their way down some pretty major thoroughfares. If you´re demonstrating in the US you got shot with rubber bullets and tear gas if you leave the 6x6 prefabricated metal-fenced pen to go to the bathroom. Here, people seem to take demonstrating very seriously.

3) The flight down featured a fair number of attractive women giving me high hopes. I regret to inform you that wherever these women live, it is no where near where I went today, but that doesn´t stop the men from fawning. I took lunch at a little cafe right next to the Plaza Hotel Buenos Aires, one of the best hotels in the world according to Mr. and Mrs. Frommer. A couple takes the table next to me: it´s a 30 something man, handsome but losing his hair; someone who had clearly peaked 5 years ago. Joining him was an older lady, leathery skin and bleached blonde hair but attractive. I figured it was a mother and a son (turns out I was right) but their conversation had a very elegant dance. Each time a remotely good looking woman would walk by, both parties would immediately cease conversation, allowing the son to oogle at the girls walking by. I´m not sure how to put it into words but watching the conversation stop 3 times in 10 seconds almost made the Heineken I was drinking come out my nose.

4) I went to the Recoleta which is where all the rich people from Buenos Aires are laid to ret. It´s unique a all the caskets are put in giant, granite masoleums that you can look into and see the coffins. To quote that eTrade commercial with the clown: I kind of underestimated the creepiness. Also, it´s still a working cemetary and there was a funeral procession right as I got there. I became close with the tour guide who told me I could watch them put the casket in the little mauoleum but given my attire (sweaty t-shirt, khaki shorts and running shoes), I didn´t think it would have been appropriate.

5) I love, LOVE exploring new cities by foot.

6) The city itself is quite charming. The nice parts are very reminsicent of Paris: from the architecture to the quiet streets to the snooty locals, the more bourgoise parts seem a little rundown: think Mexico City but not as clean and dog shit everywhere.

7) Finally, I'll bet anyone that if I were to spend 1 month in this city (or any Spanish speaking locale) I would be pretty damn near fluent. I´m already getting in the groove.

Prolific first post, not sure if I can keep up this kind of pace but if it´s worth putting on paper I´ll try to get it in the blog. I´m heading back to the hostel where I have a meeting with my top bunk for a nap. After that I´m supposed to meet Victor Sanabria for dinner at 8:30. That´s all for now.

Un Amor!
Z