The group with the tall guy.....and partying with Nicola

It's 6:30 AM and I'm on my balcony watching the sun rise after a night out with friends. The birds are chirping, the sky is clear, and I can't believe I've just come home from a simple night of dinner and dancing with friends. The Argentines very much work on a different schedule!

Last night...or do I describe it as tonight, was a great evening joining friends from different circles. My two Swiss girlfriends were celebrating their last night out before heading to Chile for 3 weeks. Karina, a girl from London whom I met at the South American Explorers club, brought 2 fellow English girls, including another Nicola (the first ever Nicola I've met in person!), and then there were two Argentine girls we met the previous night while out in Palermo SoHo, and then there was Drew, my college buddy who has spent the last 2 months on his motorcycle riding through Mexico.

So any time a tall striking man enters a bar with 8 women, it's sure to draw attention. Several hour later, while waiting to order a drink at the bar, two men from South Africa started chatting with me. "So, are you part of the group with the tall guy?" I looked at them a bit surprised when they assumed I spoke English. I think I see myself as blending in better than I really do. I'm starting to feel like a local and forget that I have fair features and curly hair. A bit later, a young porteno said, "oh, you're with the guy with the girls!" It seems we had made a name for ourselves.

The men in Argentina are known for their love of women. No woman has walked by a table of men without being checked out. Men never hide their gawking, or pretend to just be glancing in the general direction of the object they seem to be inspecting. But it seems tonight that the men were noticing the one male counterpart of our large group. Perhaps they were trying to figure out his secret.

Meeting another Nicola was a bit surreal. I somehow felt that I had found a long lost twin. We immediately hit is off. Her wonderful wit and sense of humor and the tall elegant way she carried herself reminded me of my friend Jane, also from England.

The sky by now is clearly blue and there is no denying that it is fully daytime. I'm off to bed to catch a few zzzzz's so I can at least wake up in the early afternoon and not feel like I've completely lost my Sunday.

Blocked by Tape: A Letter Home

Dear Family,
AUGH, I love Argentina, but dealing with bureaucratic government agencies such as the post office is maddening. But anyway, my rant really has nothing to do with the government. It's more of a Christmas apology for your not getting gifts from me. Unless I can figure something else out.

Here's the story. I just returned from a long time at the post office with a package of gifts. I put everything into a shoe box, used a paper bag turned inside out to cover it, and was off. Actually I did that yesterday, walked to the post office, only to learn it closed 5 minutes before. This morning I returned. Well, did you know that you can not have tape on the outside of your package? I don't know why. They were happy to supply me with a glue stick. When I pointed to
other packages that had tape, they said, "Oh yes, but those are for within Argentina." Now the post office does have boxes of their own. But they only had really big ones. Another issue is that the package needs to be under 2kg. My package is 2.2 kg So even with the right box and magic glue, I still wouldn't be able to mail it.

Within my package is a 600gm box of 12 alfajores, a super rich Argentine cookie sandwich filled with dulce de leche. They have about a million calories each. To deal with the weigh issue, I envisioned myself sitting outside the post office eating about 4 of these, but then I would probably go into a diabetic coma and the package would really never be mailed.

Finding the right box: The post office sent me to a papeleria (paper store) to get another box. After walking a few blocks only to find it was right around the corner they told me to come back in 4 hours, someone would package it all up for me. But they don't have a scale, so I still wouldn't be sure it was under the right weight. I went to another papeleria, who said I should go back to the post office and use their boxes. Or keep trying to find another post office (each
with a 60 min wait or more) to get the right size. He also said that the post is not secure here at all. I should use a private carrier. I checked with fedex a few days ago, but at U$S 95, more than the value of the gifts, I thought that was just crazy.

Anyway, I don't think our family is the superficial type that needs to have some sort of commodity under the tree from each person. So I truly believe this is more an issue for me than it will be for you. I just really wanted to have some unique treasures from Argentina to share with you all on Christmas morning since I wont be there.

So in the end, I went home, frustrated and upset, and ate an alfajore.
Love Always,
Nicola

Uruguay for Lunch

On the other side of the river from Buenos Aires (Rio de la Plata), is Uruguay. There's a quaint little town here called Colonia, so Emily and I took the ferry over to have lunch and explore the town. Plus it would add another stamp to our passports. After clearing through customs and immigration, we boarded the ferry. WOW, this was a huge boat. I felt like I was on a cruise ship. (Clearly I haven't been on a real cruise ship!) We were joined by a large group of Harley Davidson riders as there was an event going on in another Uruguayan town, Punte del Este. Harley riders look the same around the world: jeans, white t-shirt, black leather jackets, chains and tattoos.

Officially known as Colonia del Sacramento, the tranquil town dates back to 1680 when it was originally a Portuguese settlement. It acted as a contraband port to Buenos Aires for goods that were restricted by the Spanish government. I found it interesting that Buenos Aires and Colonia are literally right across from each other, but one grew to become the 3nd largest city in Latin America and the other one is a tiny tourist village. They seem centuries apart.

The historic district is located on a small peninsula jutting out into the river. There are quaint tiny homes and narrow cobblestones streets. We found an outside cafe for lunch, dining on fresh fish, which not commonly found in Buenos Aires, and some good wine. After chatting with a bookstore owner, she sent us to a local artist. He was working in his studio when we arrived, but invited us into his house to see some of the beautiful Chinese kites he makes, and amazing photography. Emily and I then strolled the town until it was time to catch the ferry back home.




The cobbled stones streets were treacherously rocky. Crossing the street was more like rock climbing!

Breaking the bank

A few years ago, I came to the realization that I was no longer a poor struggling graduate student. I hadn't been for quite some time now and was finally making a decent salary, and really needed to start taking my finances a bit more seriously. So in an effort to keep my mind focused on saving, I wanted to get a piggy bank. No, not to store my life savings, but just a little symbolic something to put on my bookshelve to remind me of the importance of saving.

The cute little chrome piggy banks are popular baby gifts. Somehow though it seemed a bit silly to be in my 30s wanting a baby's gift. So I kept hunting around trying to find an urban chic model of the more typical christening or baby shower gift. I never found anything. (Maybe that's the reason I don't have better investments!)

The other day I was searching through the Craigslist's "for sale" items as I wanted to get a bike and desk. I met a girl leaving Argentina to heading to Denmark. Turns out she's actually from Chapel Hill and her grandparents live in Cary. It's such a small world. I made plans to hit her moving sale.

So imagine my surprise when I entered her apartment and found a cute terracotta piggy bank. It's exactly what I didn't realize I had been searching for all this time. And.....wow, I really hit the jackpot....this one came with money in it! SOLD!

But there's a catch. See, this little bank only has one opening at the top to insert your money. The only way to get your money out is to, literally, break the bank. He's too cute to ever break. Well see how long this feeling prevails when I'm searching for exact change to ride the colectivo (the bus).

ADDENDUM:
Two days later, Emily and I went to Uruguay for the day and I found an even better piggy bank, painted gray with pink spots. Hmm, I liked this one better. So now I have two piggy banks. I'm taking this as a good sign about my future finances.

Cerre Torre, El Chalten (Patagonia)

Today we did a longer hike, 22km total, to see the Torre peak, glacier and lake. There’s was a large tour group from the south of France doing the same trek, so we gave them plenty of lead so as not to feel too crowded on the trails. Despite the fact that there are only a few trails and everyone must stick to these specific paths, it never felt crowded. In fact, most of the time we were on our own except at occasional lookout points.

The start of our trek was beautiful. Not as sunny as yesterday, but most of the trail was protected from the strong Patagonian winds. It started drizzling as we got closer to the turnaround. By the time we made it to the lake, the rain picked up, but not enough to dampen our spirits. We ate some chocolate and granola bars and admired what view we had. I put a pair of Lyle's woolly socks (a clean pair, not the pair he was wearing!) over my hands to stay warm.



11:30 on a Thursday. Normally I'd be at the UCSF Cancer Risk tumor board. This is so much better! (Why am I even thinking about work???)


Part of the trail was along the Torre river which is fed from the lake. Similar to the water at the Perito Moreno glacier, this water is a milky turquoise blue from the sediment that accumulates from the passing glacier.


If you are with a guide, you can cross the river and then hike on the glacier. This is Lyle attempting his own river crossing. A bit of the glacier is in the back ground.


Heading back home with ominous weather trailing us, but still a great hike.
(All photos from Lyle)

Fitz Roy Trek, El Chalten (Patagonia)

We left this morning for the northern part of the Argentine Glacier National Park, to El Chalten, a major trekking destination. The bus ride there was along the infamous Rt. 40, which has the same sort of draw as Route 66 does in the states. But that’s where the comparison stops. Just like much of rural Argentina, this “highway” was a bumpy gravel road, winding through dusty barren Patagonia. We were surrounded by mountains, large mesas, and snowy mountain peaks not too far in the distance. This first photo is of Cerre (peak) Fitz Roy as we approach El Chalten, in Patagonia.


Route 40, Patagonia, halfway from El Calafate to El Chalten. There’s a hotel here, La Leona, where Butch Cassidy and the Sundance kid hid out for a month after robbing the Bank of London and before escaping to Chile.

Upon arriving at El Chalten, we were all briefed by a park ranger about the rules. I was impressed with how well this park was run. Camp sites are free and the water is drinkable, something they want to maintain with our cooperation. We were strictly told to stay on trail and make sure we carried everything back out with us. This area only get about 65 nice days a year, so with great sunny views of Fitz Roy, we were encouraged to get out there as soon as possible and take advantage of the clear skies. So after checking into our hostel, we headed out onto the Fitz Roy trail to Laguna Capri.


(Photo courtesy of Lyle)


Taking a siesta at a mirador (viewpoint) of Fitz Roy.


A close up of the Cerre (peak) Fitz Roy


View along the Fitz Roy trail.
(Photo courtesy of Lyle)


Figuring out where to go.


At Laguna Capri along the Fitz Roy trail, El Chalten, Patagonia.


Lyle heading back to El Chatlen after a beautiful day on the Fitz Roy trail.

Perito Moreno Glacier, El Calafate (Patagonia)

As much as I would have liked to stay in Bariloche, the southern part of Patagonia called. This is a wild area with strong winds, large glaciers and some of the most beautiful landscapes. There’s a lot of wilderness and not many towns. We flew into El Calafate yesterday and visited one of the most popular glaciers in the world, the Perito Moreno Glacier, near the boarder of Chile. The Perito Moreno Glacier is fed by the Southern Patagonian Ice Field, the third largest reserve of fresh water in the world, after Antarctica and Greenland.

Perito Glacier is on of only 3 glaciers in Patagonia that is not retreating. It advances about 2 meters per day, but also loses the same amount at it's terminus, so it's somewhat in a state of equilibrium. The water is a beautiful milkly green color due to the suspended sediment from the glacier grinding rocks into a find powder as it moves.


When I was in Spain, Kathryn lent me her Penguin socks, which I thought would be appropriate for the glacier trip today! The socks felt right at home!


Free advertising for Sports Basement.

Despite taking over 231 photos today, Lyle and I were still not able to capture the immenseness of the glacier in our photographs. I’ll spare you all 200+ photos and have selected a few of my favorites.


Overtime, snow is compacted at the source, either forming or adding to the glacier. The fewer air bubbles suspended in the ice, the bluer the hue. (Photo courtesy of Lyle)



Lyle does his best GQ pose in front of the iceberg. With his long shaggy hair and Italian features, Lyle blends right in with the Argentine locals.


We were going to take a boat excursion to get up close to the glacier, but there were some small icebergs blocking the boat dock, so the excursion was canceled. This was a bit of a disappointment, because I think you get a much better perspective with just how massive this thing is when you are right up front. However seeing that a ship recently sank on its way around Antarctica after hitting a submerged iceberg, I thought being on the more cautious side was alright. I didn’t feel like an afternoon swim. The boat did try moving the iceberg as you can see in the photo, but wasn’t successful.


This boat (a tiny dot in front of the iceberg) must have come from another dock. Looking at the boat gives a slightly better perspective of the size of the glacier. The glacier is over 60 meters high (above the surface of the water!) with a total depth of over 170 meters. This is HUGE!!! The front part of this glacier is 5km wide. It was awesome in the classical sense of the word.

Is was really peaceful just sitting and listening to the glacier. We constantly heard cracks sounding like thunder and witnessed several pieces fall into the water. Look carefully at the picture above and you can see a bit falling into the water. (Photo courtesy of Lyle.) This is one of the most “active” glaciers…meaning that there are frequently large chunks of ice falling into the water. This was certainly one of the highlights of the trip!


(Photo courtesy of Lyle)

Siete Lagos (7 lakes drive) in the Andes

San Martin is a town about 180km away from Bariloche, separated by a beautiful drive knows as the siete lagos (7 lakes.) The 4 of us rented a car and started our road trip adventure. We’d been previously warned about the road and were told that a good part of it was unpaved and very bumpy. We couldn’t go very fast and the drive required a tremendous amount of concentration and zipping around divets and larger rocks, but plenty of time to take in the views and stop for photographs. The drive was made better with a zippy and powerful little red VW and Swiss German tunes in the CD player. San Martin wasn’t much to blog about, but the drive there and back, both very different routes were gorgeous and worth spending the day in the car. On the second loop of the trip, the landscape made me think of Wiss, Alison’s husband and a fly fishing guide. This is supposed to be one of the most popular places to fly fish in Argentina. The photos do not capture is all, but here’s enough to encourage you to come visit.


The start of our 380km drive to the 7 lakes and back, Bariloche.


San Martin, the half way mark of our 7 lakes drive.


The driver taking a break to enjoy yet another beautiful view of the lake and Andes mountains.


On the back side of the 7 lakes drive. I loved the zippy car!


Route 234, the 7 lakes drive. As you can see, this major road is comprised of a gravel road and hazards such as “stray” cows. (Photo courtesy of Lyle)


What a fabulous day. (Photo courtesy of Lyle)

Bariloche - Lake Gutierrez and 3 stray dogs

We arrived yesterday at Bariloche, part of the lake district in Western Argentina. It’s similar to Tahoe in that there are beautiful mountains, and rather than just 1 big lake, Bariloche is surrounded by several lakes. The hostel 1004, where we are staying, is located on the 10th floor of the tallest building in Bariloche, giving beautiful views over Nahuel Huapi Lake.

This afternoon we did a small hike to a waterfall and then further up to a mirador (viewpoint) near Lake Gutierrez with Monika and Sabrina. They were classmates of mine in Buenos Aires from Switzerland and are now taking classes at the Bariloche school. Shortly after a bus dropped us off near the trailhead, 2 stray dogs started following us around. One dog in particular, a german Shepard, kept pretty close to me. Must be the ham and cheese sandwich in my pack. This place is full or stray dogs. As our walk continued, I started to warm up to the dog, and the dog started warming up to us. By the end of the trip, we were playing fetch with them and had a total of 3 dogs with us. Their tails wagged more prominently as they were more comfortable w/ us. And towards the end, we started enjoying their company. Someday I’ll get a dog. In the meantime, I’ll just hang out in Bariloche.


Doing the Irish Jig in the Andes Mountains, Bariloche


One of the many beautiful views from our afternoon hike.


Lyle, Sabrina and Monika – Hiking to the waterfall


Me, Lyle, Sabrina and Monika at the top of our hike, view of Lake Gutierrez, Bariloche.


Back at the lake, note one of our “adopted for a day” dogs in left of photo.

Long Bus Rides and Thanksgiving with the Natives

Thanksgiving is time for friends and family, so I was very happy that Lyle arrived today on Thanksgiving morning to visit me for the next week and a half. After a very long overnight flight from the states, I thought he might appreciate my meeting him at the airport rather than taking a taxi. I did a little research on the internet and found a bus line that reportedly takes an hour. I’d need about 30 minutes to take the subway to this bus. So, just to be on the safe side, I doubled the time requirement thinking that 3 hours would be plenty of time to get there. Oh what wishful thinking!!! When I got to the reported location of the 51 bus line, there was nothing there. This was supposed to be a large terminal. I asked someone who told me it was right here 5 years ago, and is now around the corner. I have a 2008 bus guide known as the Guia’T. Maybe more than 5 years is needed to update the info. There are also about 4 different 51 bus lines, none of which go directly to the airport. I needed to take two of them. And of course, each of these bus lines took about 45-60 minutes with a 30 minute wait in between them. At the end of the morning, my quick little jaunt to the airport to meet Lyle took 4 hours!!! I think I could have cycled faster. And to add to the whole scenario, Lyle’s flight arrived early. I have little patience waiting. This Thanksgiving I’m glad Lyle has a lot more patience than I do.

During the day we went to a few tourist attractions. In the evening, we went to a Tango show at the famous Café Tortoni and then for Thanksgiving dinner at a local parilla, La Cabrerra. I had previously been to the Café Tortoni show in their upstairs room, but this time we went to the downstairs room and I highly recommend the downstairs show to anyone planning on visiting. Nothing defines Buenos Aires more than the tango. This show goes back to the roots of Tango with a fabulous historical theme to the dances and acting.

We decided to forgo the traditional turkey dinner and have Argentine steak instead. La Cabrera has been recommended to me by over 5 different people. Seems it’s been recommended to every traveler to Buenos Aires, as I heard more English than I do in San Francisco. We were finally seated around 11pm. I invited two argentine friends, Martin and Agustin, and a Swiss friend from the school, Domenica. After a quick explanation of what Thanksgiving is in the States, Agustin piped up saying, “So, I guess we’re the natives here,” and pretended to add a feather to his hat. This Thanksgiving I’m grateful for the wonderful Argentines I’m meeting who are adopting me to their country, friends from all over the world as we struggle to get through the Spanish language together and share travel tips, friends like Lyle who come to visit, and of course my family and friends back home. BTW, the steak was excellent. I may have to adopt this as a new Thanksgiving trend.


Thanksgiving Dinner at La Cabrera


Although not typical in Argentina, dinner was served with many tapas.

A super friendly day

Last night I went for ice cream with my roommate and neighbors and discovered a gorgeous new part of the neighborhood. It's across the railroad tracks, both literally and figuratively. Gorgeous homes line the streets, including many embassies. So this morning I decided to explore this part a bit more.
It was a humid and cloudy morning, so not surprisingly, it started to drizzle. It's a great feeling to be hot and sweaty and have a light shower to cool you down. I was reminded of days running in North Carolina. When it rains in San Francisco, it's usually a cold and chilling rain.

At the end of my run, I made a loop around the park and came across a group doing Tai Chi. So, I joined them. I'm not good at stretching and I've always wanted to learn Tai Chi... so what could be better? I followed along as best as I could, making up my own moves at times hoping that the flow was more important that the exact movements. We started doing something similar to sun salutations, or maybe it was more of a sun dance because it just kept raining. Immediately after the session, a darling little lady came up to me, kissed me on the cheek and said, "Oh, you must be new!" We chatted for a while and she introduced me to everyone telling me about her daughter who lives in Seattle and everything else. She kept introducing me to everyone! I left feeling more connected to the neighborhood and with plans to return in 2 weeks.

Then in the afternoon, I went to a store to try on hiking shoes. I'll be heading to Patagonia next week and need something a bit more substantial the my flip flops to hike the Andes. A mother and her 14-ish year old daughter were there and we struck up a conversation. Usually a conversation is half in Spanish (me) and half in English (them, in perfect English as the daughter is in a bilingual school!!!) I'm very good at explaining that I'm here to learn Spanish, I've been her for 6 weeks, am from San Francisco, am a genetic counselor, and what that means. Anything else and it's a combination of basic words and charades. They also are my neighbors. They live a few blocks away and mom is a yoga teacher! What a delightful pair. We exchanged cards and who knows, maybe I'll be taking yoga classes in a few weeks.

And then in the late afternoon, I followed the crowds to the Gay Pride parade at the Casa Rosada (The Pink House.... their equivalent of the White house.) I'm not sure if anything can top San Francisco's Pride week, but this sure was a great crowd with fabulous costumes. I met a Jewish man from Dublin who now lives in New York. While chatting with him, I ran into an Argentine friend I know. There's no better way to feel like home than running into someone you know in the streets of a city of over 3 million. Overall it was a super friendly day!

Desaparecidos Memorial

Today (4 Nov) was supposed to be the grand opening for a new memorial in Buenos Aires for the "Desaparecidos" the 30,000 people who vanished in the 1970s and early 80s, during Argentina's "Dirty War". The military government's mission was to wipe out left wing terrorism, but most of these people were innocent civilians. Their families still have no idea what happened to many of them. I'm certainly not going to attempt to summarize this important bit of history in a few lines of my blog, but will instead recommend the book "Nunca Mas" meaning Never Again. (or you can look it up in Wikipedia.)

The location of the memorial is under a high way. It's not a typical place for a memorial, but this location is supposed to be the site of some of the worst torture. When Emily and I arrived, there was no one there. It's a small park on one side, fenced in, which may be opened in the future. On one side there are 5 large posts (like flag poles) each with a digit on top, together spelling out 30,000, the reported number of "desaparecidos." On the other side is the number 500, the number of children of the "desaparecidos" who are unaccounted for. On the door of the park, we saw a flyer noting that the ceremony was the previous day. I was so sorry to have missed out. We spent some time peering through the fence though.

On the other side of the road was another part which looked like an archaeological dig. They may be doing some digging, but the bricks and flags were laid out in the shape of a person as part of the memorial. When I went home that evening, I spent hours and hours reading on the internet about the Dirty War and reading the personal stories of some of the people missing. Accounts of them being pulled from their home in the middle of the night, or people being drugged and pushed out of military planes to their death is terrifying and troubling. It was chilling to see the horror that one government was doing in the name of eradicating terrorism and to then reflect on what's going on in today's world in the same name.

http://www.desaparecidos.org/arg/victimas/eng.html

The entrance to the memorial. You can see the underside of the highway at the top of the photo.

Photos of the disappeared through the chain link fence, across the street from the memorial park.

Under the freeway

Memory, Truth, Justice