un tarde feliz navidad...

a late merry christmas.

Merry Xmas mi amigos! We've had

 a blistering one here.

 Monday 24th the temperatures on

the streets reached a 

meltingly high 48 degrees.

I now know how a biscuit feels.

Still, that didn't deter me 

from cookingup a cous cous 

and hummus storm to

take to Ingrid's place

 (one of my students)

Everyone hits the family

 homes the night 

before to wait for Papa Noel, 

the prezzies,the food, the drinks.

 And when midnight

comes they all let off fireworks

 and party bomb things that explode with corazons y estrellas. Hearts and stars.

Even the dog looked alarmed.

I had a great night with all the family and extended family, cousins, aunts and uncles,

 grand parents and kids. About 18 of us, so for me, it was just like the McKenzie family

 get togethers, noisy and lots of mischief going on. Ate until i couldn't say no, practiced

 my habla Castellano and they practiced their habla Ingles, and have got coffee dates

 planed with Ingrid's mother and mad aunty. 

Christmas day, i loitered on the streets with el florista at the flower stall before

 having a big dinner and more wine and alfajores for my second night of Christmas.

Hope you all had a gorgeous Christmas, and i wished you were all here.

 and i mean ALL!

 mucho grande besos y abrazos xoxoxox 

alicia en el pais maraviloso

Eloisa Cartoneras, La Boca. Bs AS

Two book loving dogs wait hopefully.

This is the front door of

 the Elosia Cartoneras.

They have recently been

awarded a prestigious \prize from

The Netherlands, with a

lovely cash injection in

Euros. Two of the group

flew to pick it up from

their Queen.

It was awarded for their

community work and commitment to

enviromental recycling and sustainability.

As well as their great books!

I worked on the stall they had near Plaza de Mayo, December 7th. We were selling books as well as assisting people painting the cardboard covers for their free (sponsored by the government) books of Poesia y Politica....Poetry and Politics, an anthology. It was mad, hot and fabulous. It was a date that celebrated 30 years of democratic voting and highlighting Argentinian production and manufacturing.

A mind blowing day where thousands of people came out to march down the streets with their flags and banners and drums, and i was standing in the thick of it.  

Sends goosebumps down my spine just rethinking of it.

People from all types of unions and organisations and other things i don't know because my Spanish isn't fluent enough. How many times can i mention that i love the way they march, protest and celebrate their right to gather, to oppose, to remember. Sigh. Suspiro. Marvellous.

Fountain by the ecological reserve

This fountain, and i have forgotten the

 name of i tand of the female 

sculptor is totally amazing.

i will find out and re-edit

 this post.

I went on a big walking adventure

 with this fountain being the

 first sight on the days outing.

It was quite controversial in

 its time, a) because

a female had sculpted it

 in the early 1900's

b) because it features nymphs 

and the patriarchs

were suspicious of her

 sexual predilictions.

as a consequence it,

 in its history, has been moved

three times.

Situated beside one of the

 entrances to the 

Costanera Reserva Ecologia Sur, this could be its final resting place. for now.

una otra profesora ingles

Another teacher of English.

This is Susana, we met

one afternoon in the foyer

of a company where we

both have students.

This is her teaching me

the swear words and

phrases in Spanish.

We have a lot of fun

hanging out in the city

when we don't have classes.

My summer wardrobe has

improved considerably thanks

to her and her visible and vocal  horror at seeing some of the clothing and shoe combinations i've been using.

el loro....the parrot

This bird speaks better spanish

than me! No, not quite true,

I am improving and can start

to construct basic

sentences, but whether

i've picked the right

form of the verb is

another story.

This is the third time

i've meet this guy. He likes

 women. His owner lives

near the Eloisa Cartoneras

where i go every Wednesday.

I had the camera with me last

Wednesday and got several

pics. This is one of him looking

down at me wanting to bite the

camera lense. He is so cool, he hangs out on the bars of the window and laughs and chatters away to us inside painting the covers of books. We are preparing for a Fiesta in the streets this Saturday. Lots of music, dancing, food and drink and book making workshops with our group, street art exhibitions. I'm so looking forward to having a let your (now longer) hair down day with all the people i've met in this neighbourhood.

Julio Riccardo Viera

Introducing el florista.

I found him on Avenida

Federico Lacroze.

Belgrano.

Trust me to find the

crazy hippy florist.

This was his idea.The 

bike around Palermo 

lakes with me and

the ukulele in that

little pod for KIDS

on the back.

It was a hilarious 

if not slightly nerve wracking

bicicleta aventura. The traffic here is not for the timid, and i did protest that i could easily get run over because i wouldn't be seen. At one stage i had a green bus breathing down the back of my neck. I preferred the previous day when he doubled me with a cushion on the back.

.All he can say in English is 'come on' and 'i love you'. It makes for interesting conversations.

However, we do manage to make ourselves understood with a combination of mine, theatrics and the Spanish-English dictionary. He is funny...I think!

I am profesora ingles(english teacher) he is el florista (the florist).

 

 

Puente de la Mujer

Puente de la Mujer,

or the bridge of the woman.

Dock area

Buenos Aires.

I went for a big walk a couple

of weekends ago, around the

ecological reserve just a hop

skip and a jump away from

the city centre. And walked

through the dock area on

my way back. This bridge is

quite an engineering feat,

and it pivots on a central

anchor point to allow tall boat

access into the dock.

According to the blurb beside

the bridge it is a stylised

form of a Tango dancer.

While you won't see that from the image i have taken, you will be able to find other images on the net that show the tourist type photo. i'm trying to keep up the delusion that i am not a tourist....an adventurer.!

el hombres lunes clase

quatro bueno  hombres,

lunes tardes

Introducing from left to

right....Guillermo, Maxi,

Javier and Mariano.

Classes with these guys

are EASY!

Sadly we have finished

 for the year, but i

have so enjoyed my

time with these guys,

and laugh, it's been FUN.

Wish you could have met them. I have told them if they are ever in NZ, mi casa es su casa, and that if i can't fit them in, my mates will take the overflow. So don't say i didn't warn you.

la vista para calle 25 de mayo

The view from the

13th floor on the

 street 25 de mayo.

What i will or can never get used to is the street people. While this city and it's people are kind and passionate, the other side to the adventure is seeing people, families, living out in the open.

Clustered under the more optimum spots, they live a precarious existence from day to day.

One evening as i was heading to the subway after my last class, i walked passed a young guy snuggling up on his mattress with a blanket. He smiled and said 'hola', i smiled back and said 'buenos noche' and he says 'es un poco frio', it is a little cold'. What do you say to that? I smiled and said a 'si' in agreement.

While i am by no means rich, by comparison i am a millionaire.

In some plazas whole families camp out. They have everything for living daily lives, but totally exposed to the pedestrian eye. A mother nursing her child, two guys playing cards, a young couple sleeping under a plastic sheet. Perhaps in the night they will be one of the hundreds of cartoneros who walk the streets pulling their two wheeled carts heavy with the collection of cardboard and recyclable materials.

25 centavos per kilo of cardboard.

Sometimes he has a friend over for a visit. They tuck themselves in under his blanket. The brown dog is stretched out on the mattress beside them, it is fast asleep, twitching, dreaming of trees and chasing rabbits, or maybe even cats.

Their home is on the shady side of the street.

I have, on a few sunny occasions, seen him and the dog on the opposite side. Basking in the hesitant spring sun.

He lives, they live, on Avenida Cordoba 682.

Tucked in on a small unused doorway. One step. It is their spot.

One day I walked passed and they were both fast asleep. He covered from head to toe with his blanket, the dog outside, curled up beside him with his muzzle resting on his owners leg.

Mans best friend.

Two take-away containers on the footpath beside them. One filled with water, the other with dog biscuits.

She has two large white bags with Garabino written large in bold red letters.

It is a store that sells everything you could ever dream of for your home.

I see her in the mornings, as I exit the subway.

She is usually packed up, ready to go.

Her face is deeply lined with age and experience, and is the colour of walnuts.

She sips her coffee from a white polystyrene cup.

In the evenings, after my last lot of students, she is back there on the steps.

San Martin 27.

I have seen her wipe down the half a dozen steps she calls home.

She is always on her own. But, lots of people stop and talk to her. I have seen a woman stride over and pass her a peso note.

As I walk to and fro past her home, like a friendly neighbour, I smile and say hello. She smiles and replies in kind.

They are a family group of five or six. One double bed and three singles. A pile of blankets and quilts, some pillows. Two old sofas and an armchair between the double bed and the others serves as the lounge room.

A kitchen table and half a dozen miss matched chairs.

They have salt and some other unremarkable condiments in the middle of the table.

It looks neat and tidy.

There are advertising billboards on the wall behind them. Advertising a local bank and all the opportunities it can deliver to you.

I see their lives every Wednesday on the way to La Boca on the bus. They live under a grand galleria, marble arches and veranda that protect them from the elements. Well, the rain at least.

They live on the busy Avenida Alem.

street vendors

A fruit and vegetable vendor

on the street beside the

railway line into Barrio 

Chino. Buenos Aires

Chinatown.

I am sitting in Havanna cafe

syphoning the wi-fi before i head

to La Boca and the Eloisa

Cartoneras for my Wednesday

day of painting with the 

crew- Alejandro, Riccardo and

Miriam. They have received an

order of 1,000 books on

 Contemporary Argentinian Poetry,

so we are painting covers and

gluing in the pages until our fingers

bleed. Have i said how much i love working here with these guys? They have welcomed me into their lives and work, shared their ma'te with me, and all that with my limited spanglish. I will be so sad to leave them. Am having to start to think about what and where i go to next. My teaching work is starting to slow down, and come the middle of  December it will stop for two to three months. sigh. Might have to go and be a 'willing worker on organic farms' for board and food. Either that or become one of those dog walkers, which i really like the idea of. Have to have work to stay. sigh. This is a marvelous country with passionate and dynamic people. I love it.

In Spanish, Alice in Wonderland translates into....Alicia en el pais maravilloso.

(alice in a country marvelous.!)

More on the Argentinian art of protest...

Cabilldo. The original

seat of government.

Plaza de Mayo

Buenos Aires.

Yesterday (ayer), Tuesday

(martes) was a big, big

general strike.

The city centre(Microcentro)

was amazingly quiet.

Later that night i watched

the t.v. coverage of

various protest spots

where the people had

mobilized, gathering with

the drums, flags and banners, in protest on minimum wage, cost of living and inflation and government politics in general. On one of the main autopistas(freeways), they gathered with all the above paraphernalia in the middle of an empty eight lane highway, threw down some tyres and set them alight. Another signal in the protest repertoire. The environmentalist in me was aghast, but the pyromaniac in me was secretly delighted.

On a side note....i wasn't sure if the subway or buses would be working on the strike day, and Julio, el florista offered to double me in on the back (or front) of his bicycle if they weren't. Too funny. Belgrano to Microcentro (6ish kms) on the back of a bike!!!

(I took this photo on the way to the subway after my last class for the day. This building is totally white. A group of inspired artists had projected colour slides onto what is a perfect white screen. I watched this building transform in a number of ways in the space of half and hour.) 

Handy hints....

a statue in Parque Palermo

Buenos Aires

....Test the hot water for optimum

temperature, with your hand,

BEFORE you sit on

the bidet to wash

your pink bits!

(i have one of the

aforementioned in my

bathroom. Why do we

not have them in NZ?

They're so good for lots

of other things.... like

washing your hot tired

feet at the end of a 

long day and shaving

your legs.)

some russian orthodoxy

Russian Orthodox Church

in barrio San Telmo,

I'm a big fan of those onion style

cupolas. If i ever build a house

i'd like a couple of them

perched on the roof.

Didn't get inside this church,

the front doors resolutely

closed for public traffic.

On a totally wild tangent,

i think i was

chatted-up by the hippy

flower man wearing 

yellow jeans with the

name of Julio, or Hugo.

Saw him in the street as

i was walking into the cafe and we 'hablamos' (i think that means talked) and he was on his way to his house for lunch and he said to drop by his flower stall for 'hablando' Talk. I think that was the gist of it. We swapped names, he asked where i came from and how long i had been in Buenos Aires, and was i with family or solita? Solo. On my own. Long hair and on hot days he wears really short tiger stripped shorts.

 

folk dancing in Mataderos

Mataderos, a suburb in 

the south of Buenos Aires.

According to the labyrinthine

bus guide book, Mataderos

is the home to one of the most

amazing 'Ferias'...a market

fair type event on the 

weekends. True! I was

quietly thrilled that i managed

to get on the right bus in 

the right direction, and

an hour or so later and

several cd's worth of 

songs...i was there. 

Mataderos was the original home

of the slaughterhouses for

the city. So lots of meat, cattle

and Gauchos. Cowboys.

Smack bang in the middle of rows and rows of artisanal specialty foods and crafts and smoking parrillas (barbecues) was this stage thick with an eager audience! These dancers were one of several groups that flounced their frocks and kicked up their heels. I sat until the sun started to grill me, and watched many different of styles of traditional folk dances performed by men and women of all ages, some fabulous musicians playing some hair raising, blood pumping, crowd going wild music. Take bus 29 from Belgrano.!

 

some fabric chooks in Tigre

a shop in Tigre, a northern

suburb of Buenos Aires

It's Sunday and i was

hunting around for a cheap

place to siphon off

their wi-fi to update

the blog, and i went

into a Havanna

coffee shop and set up

the notebook, then,

in a city of 13million, 

my new friend Susana

and her man Guillermo

walk in. How crazy

is that!

Colonia, Uruguay.

A cute cafe in the old

 part of Colonia

A nice day trip to

 Colonia to refresh my 

90 day visa.

I will have to go Uruguay

 next month again...

before the 19th.

It doesn't seem like i have

been here nearly another

three months. Time fugit eh.

Colonia was gorgeous, an

old port originally established

by the Portuguese.

 A gorgeous day compared to

 the day i was supposed

to  go....hurricane type winds

 so strong that people in

 Montevideo had to use

ropes tied across the streets

 to get to the other side.

 

a typical day....

a merry-go-round horse

on a carousel in Tigre.

Weekdays i get up at either 6.30am

or 7.30am, depending on the day and class.

Horrible.

I take the subway into town. I

can just about doze standing up like

the locals.Must be something to do with the

air, hour or the rocking of the train.

Mondays and Wednesdays i stop at a 

cafe for a cafe con leche as a treat

for making it out of bed at that hour.

My classes vary, always an early class,

classes around lunch times and then the

after work hour classes. so i can be

wandering the streets from 8am until

8pm. i have also learned that when that

empty subway train pulls into the first stop

as soon as the doors open (praying

hopefully to the Goddess of Subway doors 

to open up in front of me) i jump in like

its a life and death game of musical chairs.

It's heaven to get a seat for the 12 stop/25 minute 

ride home after a long day. 

anyone for an asado/parilla?

A restaurant on Lavalle

Microcentro, Bs As

Is it wrong for a vegetarian to stop and stare?

Let alone take photos.

This is a classic example of the Argentinian

version of the bar-b-que. 

The asado or parrilla.

There are a number of these restaurants

on my routes to student's workplaces.

I am fascinated by them, the way the whole body

is spread out on their hangers that

the chefs roast and turn.

I would like to see how they chop it up 

for different orders and bits. I guess.

the last class of the week.

These guys are the troublemakers......

not.

Delightfully introducing the IT whizzes of

an un-named bank...Nora, beside

her is Adrian, and behind him is Omar.

We did have Gustavo also, but he is now

in my other class group.

Sorry about the slightly blurry picture-

the guy on the end of the camera

obviously got the shakes, or couldn't stop laughing.

I look forward to hanging out with this crew,

i've laughed so much at times my

ears hurt. I will never be able to hear someone

say 'bootlicker' without thinking of them.

I've learned the Spanish version...

 chupa media...sock sucker.

This is Paola, another fabulous student/guide

Introducing Paola (...i can't find you on facebook!)

She is another great student i have had the 

good luck to have. At first my kiwi accent

stumped her (and other students), but i

learned to slow down and

 enunciate more clearly.
Paola works for an international banking
corporation and is the secretary you go to
for all the things the bosses don't know.

Sadly it was our last class on Thursday,

her evil bilingual  overlord doesn't want

 her to continue her classes.

Paola also printed off maps from google

in aid of my artistic and cultural adventures.

Guillermo, my mat'e drinking history guide

This is Guillermo, he also also works for the 

same logistics company as Ingrid and Roberto.

He always has his mate (pronounced mah-tay).

It should have an accent over the 'e'.

We have some great off-track converstations

about the history of Argentina and

 all it's 'heros'.

He gives me all the inside gossip on the 

historic goings on in the country and

the political machinations of notable

characters.....and where the wrong

statues ended up.

He even gives me homework!

Introducing el Doc....Roberto

Roberto works for the same logistics company as

Ingrid. Mondays and Fridays are our classes.

He would like the women of NZ to know he

his available for a 'good time'.

We have totally competitive classes, his idea

not mine. But, when in Rome, or 

capital federal.....i think he is ahead of

me (so he thinks) in the linking sentences

exersize. Roberto 6. 

Alice 5.

If anyone is interested in meeting Roberto,

 i know where he works!

Mi fin de semana guia, Ingrid

my weekend guide, Ingrid

Meet Ingrid, she works for a large logistics

company, and on the side, she googles

maps for me for my weekend explorations

that also include valuable spots where

the best ice-cream places are.

Ingrid was the one who found me my

room at Beba's place.

She knows all the best english

expletives, and where to find the

recipies for Alfajores and dulce de leche,

my favourite biscuit here.

My alfajore thighs are coming along nicely.

we will be able to make them in NZ.

Hola Gabriel

We don't look too bad, considering 

the hour. 9am-ish. 

Monday and 

Wednesday mornings.

Gabriel works for a Bank, 

and on hisPhd thesis. 

He wants to improve the banking

mode/system by looking at micro-financing

for the little people.

He was wondering how his hair was

looking...definately better than mine.

He also likes to give everyone at

international meetings the warm hearted

Argentinian kiss on the cheek.

I see him as the kissing archangel Gabriel

live life like a muppet!

Kermit on the sofa at 

Casa Beba,

Belgrano, Buenos Aires.

Beba and i have a running gag with kermit,

every couple of days we change his

place and pose. 

this is the latest.

frog with flower.

Uruguay for a day

Puerto Madero, Buenos Aires.

A small sliver of the skyline that is Buenos Aires.

I took a boat across the Rio de la Plata, that is as 

wide as an ocean, to Colonia in Uruguay.

An hour by catamaran.

My tourist visa was about to expire in two 

days. Hard to believe i have been in 

Argentina for 3 months already.

Road toll to date....

Some art work just down the road from my place,

11 de noviembre, Belgrano.

One pair of black Warehouse sneakers.

 Two taxis roaring around the corners

 at night without their lights on.

Three pairs of socks.

A large green and white bus that whizzed 20 centimeters past my heel as I tiredly looked the wrong way.

At least half a dozen kamikaze motorbike guys, some with their helmets perched on the back of their heads, talking on cell phones and smoking cigarettes.

A couple of people on pushbikes hurtling down pedestrian walkways yelling 'guadar, guardar' (watch out)

One police car hurtling through the pedestrian 'go' signal.

All this in the space of three months. I have, hopefully, now developed a good set of antennas to help me navigate the crazy streets of Capital Federal!

I do, however, kinda like the element of thrill 

seeking and lawlessness of this place.

Fingers crossed. Radar on.

El perro en al subte...

The dog on the subway.

Picture of Olleros estacion 

It was early, more than I liked, when I picked up the Subway(Subte) from my home station Olleros in Belgrano. 12 stops until Catedral, the end stop at Plaza de Mayo, where I would get off/out. At 7.30am it the carriages were already full and it would be 20-25 minutes standing swaying with the crowd, until the destination.

I looked down and along the aisle. I saw two brown eyes staring at me. A dog. El perro. I wondered what station he had got on at.

The crush of legs being too much for him, the dog moved to the reasonably clear space smack bang in the middle between the doors.

After a good scratch and chew on its fleas, the brown dog with a white blaze down its nose curled up in a ball and went to sleep.

Most of the commuters eyed the dog nonchalantly, and new arrivals into our carriage politely stepped over or around the dog.

For several stations it snoozed, switching positions from the curled up ball, to spread out on its side, then head on its paws.

The man beside me in a red jacket took a photo and emailed it to a friend. Another man eating chocolate with a rustling wrapper wagged a no finger at the now eager and watching dog.

I wondered if it did the journey often. Would it get lost and not find its way home.

El perro got off at Tribunales. Maybe seeking justice. Animal rights.

some Alice handywork@ eloise cartoneras

Barrio La Boca

Buenos Aires

La Tortuga Gigante(The giant tortoise)

Delirios Liricos (Delirious lyrics)

A photo of some books i painted one Wednesday, the trick is to paint fast and colourful.

I took too long the first time i went, speed is the M.O.

Now i can whip out 20 coloured covers on an average afternoon.

Meet a group of people from Venezuela three weeks ago, they popped in to check out the cooperativa and exchange contact details, ideas and notes with them. They gave me a couple of their magazines, La Mancha. Their cooperativa is more slick in production. They stayed for a few hours and drank Mate and painted covers. It's a great place to hangout and improve my Spanish. I really love hopping on bus #152 and heading off for and afternoon of painting and hanging out with the regular crew.

a poem from Jane

I saw the seat

Where we sat, we two

To catch a breath or few

After therapy

The sun still shone on the seat

Where we discussed the hue

Of the deco house across the rue

Brown!

I saw now that the seat agreed

Allowing the sun to paint it silvery grey

Smirking at the house, as if to say

Glad I'm not you!

Do you remember, Seat

When we discussed what the cartoneros do?

Ramshackle houses of orange and blue

Chemo purple and red

The seat reminded me

We'd made origami flowers

To while away the hours

At Oncology

You must remember us, Seat

Miss Alice and Miss Jane

(We'd left our parasols at home - again)

Ladies!

The world paused at the seat

In our sunfrocks, that of my mother

Hers, going back another

Worlds apart

Now side by side

Residing

I walked past the seat

It would have been weird

If I had stopped and stared

Move on, Sister!

Piso 2, Teodoro Garcia, Belgrano.

The elevator going to the second floor where i live in the neighbourhood of Belgrano.
I'm sitting in a cafe with wi-fi frantically belting out some posts and emails before they turn of the urgs....not sure if sometimes that happens because i've been here too long and am not spending enough money...?!
I have set myself an aggressive budget (as one of my students called it), $50 pesos per day. To put that in perspective, one cafe con leche can cost anywhere between $9 pesos up to $18pesos, depending on the establishment and the area.
I ordered a coffee and 3 media lunas an hour ago...about $26 pesos....time maybe running out.....
Have been to Uruguay and back and can now flash another 90 day visa in my passport. One hour by boat to Colonia, across the Rio de la Plata. Amazing. More about that later. And loads of pictures. Am still busy exploring the city, it could take a lifetime and, as Sandra put it, it is a bottomless cup.

Feliz Primavera.....Happy Spring

This morning(manana), Saturday(Sabado), i walk(yo caminar) one block(uno cuadra) from home(mi casa) to a cafe in the sun(el sol). Yesterday(ayer) the temperature reached 22 degrees. I'm sure it will be the same today(hoy).

My Friday(Viernes) midday student(estudante) cancelled in the morning, so i had the whole afternoon(tarde) free(libre) to bask in the warmth and loiter(haraganear) around the streets(calle).

It was too nice a day(un muy bien dia) to take the subway(subte), so i flagged down the number 28 bus(el collectivo) to San Telmo, intent on wandering around the Market (Mercardo) and buying my veggies(comprar verduras) for the week(el semana).

Yo voy. I go.

The basil was irresistable(irresistible), the eggplant(berenjena) divine(divino), tomatoes(tomate) shiny in full red(rojo) voluptuousness, onions(zebolla), garlic(ajo), ginger; the subterranean necessities, luscious green(verde) of asparagus(esparragos), a tight purple head of cabbage(repollo), juicy orange carrots(zanahoria) and some clusters of oriental bok choy. All carefully picked from their beds by Gustavo. The vegetable man(el hombre verduras) of the colourful stall. We swapped names(nombres), shook hands and kissed(beso) cheeks. In remedial and gestural Spanish he asked that i return(volver). Si, Si, but of course! Those brown eyed(ojo marron) men and cheeky charm.

I wandered(vagar..emos?) around the vintage and antique clothing section of the market and fortunatley for my budget, only had enough pesos on me to visit Diego at the Bakery (Panaderia) for my pan negra(brown bread) and some heavenly alfajores(biscuits filled with dulce de leche, a sort of gooey caramel that does wonders for the thighs and cholesterol level).

Like Bonaparte's Waterloo....alfajores will be my downfall(ruina/perdicion).

My arms(brazos) starting to get heavy with bags, and ten pesos in my purse, i pay a quick visit(visitar rapido) to the little(pequeno) pizza place(alliteration...) i frequented when i lived in this neighbourhood(vive en el barrio), ordering two(dos) of their tasty(sabroso) empanadas. Spinach and cheese(espinaca y queso), corn and onion(maiz y zebolla). mmmm(mmmm).

I head down the road to catch bus 152 home, a full stomach and sweet smelling goodies, i can't help the smile on my face(sonrisa en mi cara).

With clean clothes(con ropa lavando) for the working week(semana trabajo) waiting to be picked up, vegetables and treats in my hands, the sun and a warm cosy wind(el viento calor). Perfecto!

I can't wait for all the Jacaranda trees(arboles) to explode(estallar) into violet and lavender blossoms(florecer) that i can sit under(debajo) and read(leer). Muy bien.

ps...and if you found this hard to read, i took me a long time to write.!.checking spelling of words etc. a good exercise in memory. I'm finding the spanish grammar hard to remember...andar, ando, andare, anduve, andado....and thats only some of the conjugations of the irregular verb 'to walk/move/go'...so much to learn and so few synapses left....xxx

Now that's how you protest!

Avenida Corrientes

Buenos Aires

You would at first glance think it had snowed.

Masses of sheets of white A6 size paper flakes.

This is the aftermath of a demonstration. These people really know how to protest! I'm in love with their notions of Democracy. It's loud and full of enthusiasm. Usually a dozen or so people with drums, trumpets, whistles and cymbals beating out a rousing tune, lots of people singing, waving flags and banners. I've joined in on nearly half a dozen now, making sure i'm hopefully not barracking for the opposition...or the conservatives...

This is a normal occupation for the masses. Like eating, sleeping and breathing. If the people don't like what the President says on a TV broadcast, they take to the streets with their pots and spoons and bash out some sort of tune. "The caceroles" (casserole dishes). Thrilling. There was a huge protest last Friday, when tens of thousands took to the streets and Plaza de Mayo to protest new laws limiting the buying of US dollars for holidays and savings.

Ground Floor

Avenida Teodora Garcia

Belgrano

Buenos Aires

Planta Baja.

Ground floor, looking into the little lift that takes me up to the second floor where i live in the apartment with Beba.

A nice spot with wide streets and lots of trees.

I went to Colonia, Uruguay on Friday.

Time to renew my tourist visa.

Pleased to say they let me out and back in again!

Another 90 days up my sleeve.

Uruguay is an hour trip across the Rio de la Plata, a vast sepia coloured river that seems as big as an ocean.

Colonia was divine, the weather was warm, mosquitoes friendly, the food horribly expensive. (bit of a tourist trap)

I hadn't realised how tranquil it was wandering the streets until i got back to Buenos Aires and walked out of the Port onto one of the main hurtling avenues. Was a bit of a shock after the calm of Colonia. Next time i will go for the three hour trip to Montevideo, and try that one on for size.

The Most Glamourous Bookstore in the World

Avenida Santa Fe, Palermo

Buenos Aires.

Set in an old theatre, this bookstore is housed in a glorious and historic building in the heart of one of the trendy suburbs. Blew me away. I saw a program about it a couple of years ago on late night BBC World, and was thrilled to eventually find it.

 A cafe at the back, or should i say, on stage, and five floors full of books, c.d's. DVDs on everything and anything.

I noticed lots of people like me with their cameras in hand taking pot shots at the place.

Outside, as i was taking more pics, an old guy came up to me and spoke in English and Spanish, telling me with obvious pride that the bookstore was one of the most beautiful in all of Latin America.

extreme knitting

Palermo Soho, Buenos Aires.

Saw this fabulous example of guerrilla knitting as i was intent on finding the Arabian bakery in this neighbourhood.

It belonged to the fashion store directly in front of it.

I almost felt like taking up knitting...if i didn't find it so Slow and Time Consuming. Could knit full body suits for cats and dogs. Or maybe even a horse...

I like wandering around sans map, you get to discover all sorts of things, like the fabulous Feria Artesanal; the artist fair/market. I spied all sorts of things to bring back as samples and memories.

I found the bakery and large pots of Humus and Tabbouleh. I have a craving for vegemite.

The flower sellers

Along with the Newspaper stalls are the

 Flower sellers.

 Again at least one per block, and more in downtown. They are a delight to walk past.

 Makes your eyes giddy with colour. 

Some even advertise 24hour purchasing.

Last week i walked passed a stall featuring

 freesias con aroma....

with smell!

It is starting to get warmer here, and

 small buds of spring are forming on the trees. 

Spring,according to the locals,

 is one of the nicest times in the city.

Diarios y Revistas

This is where you buy your newspapers and magazines...Diarios y Revistas.

They are everywhere, at least one per block, and in downtown, maybe more. Painted red or green (if you can see the colour for the magazines), some are more grand than others; selling postcards, badges or posters featuring maps of Argentina, South Ameircia, Tango moves or even images of cattle sectioned into edible cuts.

Calle 25 de Mayo, Buenos Aires

Way up on lucky number 13th floor is the Institute Dublin....

the office and rooms of the English Language Institute i work for.

i have two classes a week there, the rest are scattered within 15-20minute walking distance around the central business district.

I get to see lots of the city in my wanderings, use my map less and less, begining to know the buses i need to take to get to other places, starting to have favourite local shops for fruit, bakeries and coffee shops. Really, i think i'm starting to feel like a local.

Have to go to Uruguay next week, my 90 day visa is nearly up. How's that. Three months.!

Cambio, Cambio....

Casa de Cambio on the pedestrian street Lavalle,

downtown Buenos Aires.

Lurking around the Microcentro (downtown) pedestrian walkways are the money changers. The unofficial houses of change. Last week, in one block i counted nine.

Cambio, cambio, is their call (exchange), the words that link them all. That and their cellphones and cigarettes. 'Dollares y reals' ...American into Pesos, and the other way around i guess. They are the Blue-market, the informal foreign currency exchangers. No uniform, no office space...so low overheads, apparently offering a better bang for your buck.

Another one of the things in this city that delight.

who's up for a walk?

The Dog Walkers

They are the people who take the beloved pets of busy Portenos for their daily walk.

I love seeing them from the bus windows, swimming in a sea of fur in a range of hues. Fifteen has been the greatest number i have counted so far. Tied like a macrame knot to a central lead. I look at them slightly enviously as i lug my 5kg bag of teaching goodies around the streets, and think that that would be a nice kind of job....maybe i could teach them English at the same time...?

It's a mess, no matter what country....

This is my sunny room in the casa of Beba, my amazing landlady. She just turned 85 yesterday and has the youth and vigor of a much younger woman. She has welcomed me into her home, someone she doesn't know, doesn't speak a word of English, so we have some funny Spanglish conversations and mime. Her theatrics are pretty good. We get on like a house on fire!

On the 20th of this month we are going to her Club to listen (i think that's what we are doing...) to tango music and singers. I'm looking forward to it. Think she also has babushka designs...she is busy talking about el hombres for me....i guess that is the meaning behind her gestures and suggestive eyebrow moves.

A dictionary of the underworld...

Close up of a gate decoration at Recoleta Cementario,
Buenos Aires.

Una diccionario del hampa; en la portrada especifica que contiene el vocabulario de ladrones, criminales, bandidos, pordioeros, vagabundos, reos-el inframundo comercial, el trafico de drogas - la trata de blancas - rufianesy malandras.

A dictionary of the underworld; being the vocabulary of crooks, criminals, racketeers, beggars and tramps. convicts, the commercial underworld, the drug traffic - the white slave traffic - SPIVS.

So read the curious title of a 1961 book housed under glass at the Biblioteca Nacional. The National Library. There were a number of donated books from Jorge Luis Borges; Argentina's number one literary son, complete with neat spider like notations in his handwriting on interesting bits in the books.
Next door and just down the road at the sister spot was the Museo del Libro y de la Lengua (the gallery of books and language) that had a marvelous exhibition of works from a famous printer in the 50's. I am going to need a crate to post all my ephemera collection home....

Barrio La Boca and the Eloisa Cartonera

Another image of La Boca neighborhood. Buenos Aires.

Second time lucky....Spent a fabulous afternoon on Wednesday with the Eloisa Cartonera!! Yay, they were open, i had my plea for volunteer work written in Spanish and checked by one of the teachers at work and started talking, and Alejandro said try English....and i was so ready with my small Spanish request...anyway, I was in. I met Ricardo who was sharing his birthday cake with everyone, Carmen, and about three others who wandered passed and popped in.
I was so happy. Kept pinching myself to make sure i wasn't dreaming.
They are a small, grass roots publishing group. Cooperativa editorial; check out their website and colourful books. They publish Latin American writers and poets on an old printing press, staple them into cardboard covers that they buy off the cardboard pickers and sell the books at political rallies and fiestas etc.
So while munching on birthday cake and sipping mate tea with them all, i painted eight covers for their books, and watched all the excitement going on. Their premises are beside the Boca Stadium, and a big match was to be played that night. The Boca juniors and some other team. There was riot police with flak jackets, guns and big sticks, blue barricades around the streets, a heavy police escort with sirens blaring as the rival team in a big bus were escorted to the venue. It was all terribly exciting!
 I was given big hugs from them when i left, and wandered down to the bus stop with paint over my fingers and a big grin on my face. This is the life eh.

Musing on the Subte...

The corner of Avenida 9 de Julio and Corrientes.

The Subte, or Subway. The Buenos Aires underground. While not a fan of traveling like a mole underground, it has considerably lessened my commute to work time. 20-25 minutes compared to 1 1/2 hours. 12 stations from Catedral in Plaza de Mayo (downtown) to Olleros - my stop - at Belgrano. Even at the horrible hour of 7am it is full. So we stand and sway our way to the center of the city. But, on the way home, if i catch the train from the first station at Catedral, it's like musical chairs with intent. The train pulls in, totally empty, the crowd on the platform ready to pounce as soon as the doors open. I have learned to leap in the doors and claim a seat for those 12 stops until home. It's survival of the quickest!