We Meet By Chance

february 7, 2012

When we are traveling, we seem to have interesting Karma.  I am always surprised when we are able to coordinate a planned meeting that gets everyone to the same place at the appointed time.   But when meetings happen by chance, it is even more surprising in a cosmic sort of way!  Our day began mid-morning with a very long walk. In order to make arrangements to travel the rest of Argentina and into Uruguay, we needed to first find boat tickets and check the long distance bus schedule.  On this particular day, we chose to walk to work off all the pizzas, beer, and empanadas of the past few days. When we started out, it was a pleasantly warm, but not humid morning.  We purchased our boat tickets, but in order to get bus information, we had to walk several long blocks to the bus station.  This was a distance that became more and more difficult as the noontime heat intensified.  But we found the bus station and got the required information.  However, after covering what seemed like hundreds of miles (most likely only 5 miles), the humidity finally got to us, and I insisted that we grab a cab with the intention of going back to our cool, air conditioned apartment.  However, the closer we got, the need to eat pre-empted our return.  So we, by chance, settled on a cute café near our home.  Not long after being served we were greeted by a stranger who we soon recognized as Paul White, a friend from Manhattan Beach.  He said that he too had been wandering for miles and became just as hot, and happened to stop for a cooling glass of beer.  Not long after sitting, he noticed us sitting a few tables away.  Paul had no idea he was anywhere near where we were staying.  And even though we had communicated often by e-mail about meeting sometime during our stay, this meeting was not planned. I love when people meet by chance.   Last night we managed a planned time to connect with both Paul and Sharon for a Parrilla dinner.  The meal exceeded all our expectations for finding delicious and tender, wood-fire grilled beef.  It was a wonderful way to say our good byes to our friends prior to our early morning departure to Uruguay.

Hot Time, Summer in the Cemetery: Paying Our Respects to the Departed

february 7, 2012

We visited the Recoleta cemetery on the hottest day yet in Buenos Aires at 39+ degrees centigrade.  We entered the cemetery at noon (our normal crazy routine), and since we had missed the English tour guide, we grabbed a map and attempted to find the carrot in the maze--Eva Peron’s resting place.  With approximately 2000 monuments and mausoleums ranging between six to twelve feet high or more, it was not an easy task.  It was like going on a scavenger hunt…two old buzzards checking out the graves of others, long since departed.  Many of the stone or brick buildings have glass French doors that allow you to look into them and see fake, flower laden altars.  Very elaborate coffins rest beneath the altars.   Some of the coffins were in various stages of degradation, but many were well preserved and beautiful. All were made of century’s old carved wood, with thick, heavy brass handles and adornments. They reminded me of fine French or Spanish furniture.  Many of these “tiny homes” for the dead also had dust laden basements that held more coffins or urns, often stacked on top of each other. 

Eva’s resting place was in the Duarte family monument.  I wondered why she didn’t have a mausoleum of her own, which prompted me to do a little research on this interesting historical figure.  Eva was born to her unmarried mother in 1919 and was one of five children.  Her mother was soon abandoned by Eva’s father, whose surname was Duarte. The family was forced to live in near- poverty while the mother took in sewing and cleaned homes.  At age 15, Eva set her sights on becoming an actress and moved to Buenos Aires.  It wasn’t long before she fulfilled her dream by becoming a very popular radio actress, which also made her financially stable for the first time in her life.  She married Juan Peron at age 27 and was soon seen on his arm on the presidential campaign trail. As first lady, she was very involved in women’s rights and that of the poor.  She even campaigned to become vice-president for a period of time.  Because of her support of the labor unions and work with the poor she was very popular throughout the country.   

However Eva’s bid for vice-president had to be halted when she became ill with cervical cancer.  Unfortunately, even with surgery and experimental (at the time) chemotherapy she died at the young age of Thirty-three.  It seems that even in death Eva led an unsettled existence.  After her death she was embalmed with a special glycerin substance to keep her body from degrading.  Juan Peron kept her body in the office she once occupied, waiting for a monument to be resurrected in her honor where she would then be displayed for public viewing.  However, not more than two years later, Juan Peron was overthrown in a military coup and was exiled to Spain. 

Unfortunately, he didn’t make arrangements for Eva’s body, and the military secreted it away for a period of sixteen years.  Eventually her remains were recovered and sent to Spain, where Peron now lived with his third wife, Isabel.  It is said that Isabel and Juan kept Eva’s body on a platform in the kitchen by the table.  Eventually, after Juan’s death, Isabel rose to power and returned to Buenos Aires and brought Eva with her.  She decided to place the body into the unremarkable Duarte crypt where she remains buried securely today, several chambers below the ground.  However, it is rumored that Eva’s preference would have been to be buried in a more humble place among the common people. 

All the monuments to the departed were interesting on many levels.  One might believe that it is a wonderful place for relatives to visit and pay their respects on a regular basis.  Yet, it was obvious that once all the relatives were also taking their final rest within the chamber walls, that the buildings could fall into disrepair with no one left to care for them.  I noticed that a few of the earliest ones, made of brick, appeared on the verge of disintegration into dust, leaving the urns and coffins sadly unprotected and open to the elements.  Our self-guided tour lasted a little over an hour, and with the heat of the day projecting off the granite and marble monuments and stone paths, unlike Eva, we began to melt, and sought refuge in our own hideout within the cool modern apartment walls.

Attitude Adjustment: Buenos Aires

Days two and Three

Our first night in Buenos Aires started with a former classmate and friend, Sharon Boyd, who has known Michael since childhood.  She has been living in Buenos Aires for five months, teaching English, and has learned a lot of what makes this city tick.   Because it was raining, we had a quick tour of our part of town known as Recoleta.  As we walked, it began to rain even harder with the wind trying to blow the umbrellas inside out. I wondered why we couldn’t just put the tour off for another day.  But having since experienced the heat of Argentina, I now realize what a relief rain is here and why everyone seemed to be enjoying it so much.  During our walk, we discovered that we are near the Recoleta cemetery with numerous fancy, tall, old crypts housing the remains of many famous and infamous Argentinians.  Across the street is a large, rather new shopping center with such establishments as a TGIF Friday’s, McCafe, multiplex theaters, book stores and dozens of upscale clothing stores.  Nearby, down narrow streets, are several cute and charming small restaurants that serve mostly pizza and beer.  One such establishment even has pizza delivery guys who manage their deliveries quickly on inline skates.

Our wonderful guide, Sharon, chose a small restaurant not far from our residence for us to have our first Argentine meal.  “French” serves many things that are wonderful, but it did not seem particularly French in cuisine and unfortunately for the owner, it was empty except for us.  That being the case, we got the most wonderful service, and the food was plentiful, reasonably priced, and delicious!  By now you have read about our first full day in Buenos Aires. Not a particularly great start, but being resilient (along with you for reading this blog) we started out our second day and the subsequent ones in much better humor.

On our second day we got back on the tour bus to finish out our time and hitch a free ride to one of the points of interest-the Galerias Pacifico Mall. The Mall first opened over a hundred years ago in 1891, in the likeness of a similar shopping area in Milan. Unfortunately, it ran into difficulties not long after opening because of an economic crisis.  For many years it served as an office space for the Pacifico Rail Road Company until, in 1992, when it was re-imagined into the beautiful space it is today.   I chose this particular place because it was one of the only old buildings on the tour that was open, plus it had air conditioning and food to entice Michael to come along.   It was just as spectacular as the tour guide promised.   The mall is housed in one of the most beautiful buildings in the city, with glass cupolas and Michelangelo-like fresco
painted   on some arched ceilings. There are three floors of stores and a large 1^st floor

full of restaurants.  I was mostly interested in checking out the famous Escuela Argentina de Tango Dance Center that takes up a large portion of the third floor space. The shopping portion of the mall is impressive.  There are numerous fancy stores that could satisfy the wants and needs of any well healed shopper who had a lot of Argentine Pesos.  I noticed that the prices were at about 25-40% percent more than the prices for the similar quality items in Manhattan Beach. But the prices were probably similar to those in New York City or Paris.   I found that the dance center was very private.  I had hoped to find classes in session that we could watch, but I came away disappointed.  However they do have a performance schedule that has an interesting Tango show that we are considering for another evening. 

Today we met with Sharon again to go to the San Telmo area where only on Sundays the town is host to antique dealers and crafts people who set up booths.  I could have wandered the streets for days.  The town itself is charming, with wrought iron balconies, shuttered windows and cobblestone streets.  Add to that literally miles of booths, street performers, attractive restaurants and colorful visitors and you have enough to delight and entertain anyone for hours.  It was here that we saw our first live Tango performance, ate some wonderful empanadas, and listened to a fabulous jazz quartet. 

Unlike Pacifico, with its upscale trendy fashions, San Telmo had interesting talented people selling their one of a kind crafts.  With so many fabulous things to choose from, it is a place that should be re-visited to select the just right items for gifts and personal gratification.  Sadly, the market only takes place on Sundays, and we don’t have any more Sundays left in Buenos Aires. Also there would never be enough room in our suitcases to carry all the things I was tempted to purchase.  Looking at the pictures of some of the unusual glassware makes me wish for the ability to drag some of it home!

During the next few days we plan to pay our respects to Eva Peron during a tour of the famous Recoleta Cemetery.  We must find a tango lesson and show if I can keep Michael awake long enough, as many do not start until 10:30 pm. And we have made plans to go to Uruguay for the weekend.  The time goes quickly, especially when it is necessary to spend a chunk of time planning for the weeks ahead.  In our future is Iguassu Falls and Mendoza, in the opposite direction.  Nestled near the Andes, Mendoza is apparently a wonderful town famous for its wineries and great food.  

Jet lag and Cranky: In Search of Carne de Argentina

February 3, 2012 First full Day

The city of Buenos Aries is quite large in comparison to the other cities we have visited thus far. It has different sectors or barrios (neighborhoods), and because of this, it is easy to pick out the areas that are of interest and fully enjoy what the city has to offer in a very organized manner.  So to get a complete look around, we started by hopping on the tourista bus that circles all the neighborhoods. By plugging in a headset, you tune it into the language of choice and get information about the sites and points of interest that you are near.  Between narrations, there is some kitschy tango music that plays in the background.  We opted for the top of the double decker bus where the view was best and the air was circulating fairly well without any windows.   It is quite hot and humid here, and we were still recovering from several nights without sleep.  So for us, getting on and off the bus, more than once, was not in the cards.  However, sitting on the bus and listening to not so authentic tango music that repeats over and over the same tune didn’t take long to become annoying.  But everything was fine for the first hour or so. We saw many monuments, beautiful buildings, and large parks that were often inhabited by the homeless who had set up camp, complete with laundry drying on the monuments.  

After about 2 hours (out of the 3 that it takes to complete the 20 stops on the route) my sciatic nerve running down my right leg was yelling (no, screaming really), irritated, no doubt, from two overnight flights in a row!  It was getting hot, and I was ready to jump overboard!!  I had foolishly let my tolerance to the situation go beyond what I should have.  I overestimated my ability to (as Michael says) “Suck it up” until the end.  So at the next stop I abruptly stood up and suggested (no, demanded) that it was time to leave!!  We got off even though there really was nothing of interest in that particular area.  I hoped walking would help my pain problem, and perhaps we could find something to eat and drink as it was way past time for lunch! 

The two things we were told not to miss were seeing a live tango show, and to have red meat whenever possible, as “Argentina has the best meat in the world.”  This seemed like the perfect time to test that premise.  We dropped into the closest, most inviting establishment we could find.  It had a cute bar, white cloth napkins and plenty of customers in various stages of service.  Many were reading newspapers or books they had brought or were sipping wine and engaged in conversation.  Realizing that there was cold white wine, beer, sodas and parrilla (Argentine beef) on the menu, we decided to stay.  Because the seats were not padded, I decided to stand for a while to settle my sciatic nerve.  In an effort not to look too foolish, I stood over Michael’s shoulder to read the menu.   Since it was in Spanish, it took a while, and the screaming nerve began to settle down. 

Soon enough the waitress took our order, which consisted of a fresh Greek salad and steak.  Michael made a point to go up to the waitress (who had left our table) and impressed upon her our desire to have the meat rojo, or rare.   He said it in Spanish and English just for emphasis.  She nodded her head and soon brought us some fresh rolls, cold white wine, and for Michael, a soda.  An hour later, as I stretched the sips of wine down to a few drops, and the Pepsi had lost most of its fizz, we inquired about our meal that hadn’t arrived.  Not quite understanding the waitress’s answer, but guessing that it would take a bit longer, we requested that the salad be served while we waited for the meat to arrive.  We slowly enjoyed the salad during which time we joked back and forth about possible reasons that the meat was taking so long.  It had to be marinated, they had to kill the cow, they broke the grill, the chief quit, and so forth. 

But eventually we no longer found the Latin time schedule funny, my sciatic nerve began to yell again, and my wine glass was empty.  Ordering another glass of wine would have just made me tipsy in my sleep deprived state. Finally the steak did arrive, but it was well done!  It was so well done that it was difficult to cut and was tasteless. So with some prodding by me, Michael sent the meat back, only to be told that it would be another half an hour to produce another one.  I don’t know how the Argentines grill rare steak, but at my house it only takes about four minutes a side!!  Because I was not able to sit any longer, we paid the bill, minus the over-cooked steak, and departed!  We are still on a quest for the “best steak ever” that is only found in Argentina!!  Oh, and still no tango lessons!!  But hopefully that will happen very, very soon! Tomorrow we will try the local empanadas.  We hear the Argentines make the best empanadas ever!!

FIRST KILL THE ROOSTERS: RETURN TO SOUTH AMERICA

January 31, 2012

We hate all night flights more than most people, I think.  While Michael seems to be able to nap intermittently, unless I can put my legs up and recline a bit, I am not able to sleep, making me fidgety and miserable.  So lucky us-- we have not one but two “all-nighters” in a row!   It was wonderful to return home to LA.  The weather could not have been more beautiful, and the warmth and love from our friends and relatives was rejuvenating.  It is comforting to have the food we missed so much, like fresh green salads, roasted chicken, and a few glasses of wine.  Yes, just simple things like being able to go to Target or Trader Joe’s and know where everything was, and find what we needed at a reasonable price is something we all take for granted until one is deprived of this for a couple of months, like we just were. Only then do you realize how important those simple things really are.  I had to go to the mall even though I didn’t need anything.  It was important for me to be able to walk around without worrying about prices, translation, money exchange problems, or the fear of dangerous nefarious characters bugging me.  It was good to have a little unexpected, hometown shot in the arm to prepare us for the rest of our journey.  However, I do want to add one thing to bring everyone up to date on the rest of our stay in Margarita VZ. 

Had it not been for meeting wonderful new friends, Antonio and Carli, in line at Bogota airport, we would not have enjoyed our time there nearly as much.  These wonderful people are from Margarita and made sure we saw the best the island had to offer.  We were lucky enough to be with them on several occasions during our stay.  Carli not only gave us two half day tours, but one night we shopped in a local store and went back to their condo where I was able to cook with her in their kitchen.  Since they have children studying abroad in Canada, we hope that someday soon they will bless us with the opportunity to show them our city and introduce them to my kitchen!

We have four and a half more months of travel.  Because the last month is spent in the familiar territory of Buena Vista, the first three and a half will be totally adventure and surprise, which we look forward to even with the  knowledge that some of it might not always be pleasant.  Take the last 24 hours for example.  We started with flying all night long, broken up by three different flights-- one to El Salvador, then Costa Rica, then on to Caracas.  We had an unexpected tight connection between CR and Caracas that called for an early morning run through the airport. We ran one way just to find that the gate was changed, and had to turn around and run twice as far in the other direction with only 5 minutes to spare.  It is never pleasant to run on little sleep, but with a full bladder (me) and Michael’s added heart problems, it is really not fun at all!   However, I am glad he is now getting the cardiac rehab he refuses to do at home!!  Then add the hour of customs and waiting for bags, and the unexpected complication of not having the address to our hotel, which necessitated a WiFi café experience at the airport to find the information.  I was under the false assumption that the hotel’s name alone was good enough-- not so!  Add to that a 45 minute cab ride to our destination with both of us greatly anticipating the comfort of a bed.  We would have been grateful for a hammock, two chairs put together, anything that would allow us to lie down and get some sleep! Unfortunately, I was not prepared for what we found.

We are finding that when you find hotels on the internet they aren’t always as nice as the pictures they post.  Like Margarita Island, we are once again surrounded by a very poor neighborhood. While our room is a fairly clean and spacious one bedroom apartment-like facility, the bed is old and worn out and not at all comfortable. The sheet covering the mattress is thin revealing many rips and tears along the seams. This left me conjuring up nightmares about which one of our nearby neighbors might have discarded this mattress, and there being no nearby dumps, it ended up recycled here in our room!!  However, knowing this was just a temporary setback, and the need for sleep so overpowering, I soon trusted the ability of my robust immune system to fight any possible altercations with all the germs we might be exposed to and drifted off into a fitful slumber until the roosters started crowing at 3 am!! 

Fortunately, we were fine until this morning.  At breakfast by the pool, I was attacked by the invisibles again. These unseen mosquito’s cause intense, burning pain that doesn’t let up without generous cortisone cream, antihistamine doses, and Advil.  We are currently hiding back in our room, dreading the next night flight that we will take tonight at 7:30 pm to Argentina. Fortunately there is just one layover in Sao Paulo.  However, we do see a light at the end of this torture.  We have no more flights for six weeks and we are staying in a nice apartment in a good area of Buenos Aires for as long as we want to be there.  Additionally we have a good friend who has lived there for five months who is going to meet us tomorrow and help us get acquainted quickly. Other than some heat and humidity, we have been told we will be in a place that will be both fascinating and beautiful.  Tango lesions here we come!!

Back to Third World Status: Isla Margarita

We are staying in a decent B&B on the island of Isla Margarita, Venezuela, but warnings from locals about muggings, kidnappings and so forth have put a damper on our usually carefree attitude for this portion of our trip.  Add intermittent rain, overcast conditions, a view from the balcony that is not very picturesque, a very hard bed, and making our own breakfast (with food set out each morning), and I am glad we aren’t staying here as long as previously planned.  Additionally, the view from the eating area balcony (the best place for WiFi reception) is of a very poor neighborhood where the homes across the street seem run down and in need of repair.  Intermittently, Latin music (which I usually like) is coming from a car parked in the driveway across the street, but with too heavy a base that causes a vibration in our chests. Luckily, the view from our room is of a sheltered pool and patio area which is very pleasant when it isn’t raining.  Last night, when we set out in search of food, we discovered that the walk to the beach was much farther than we expected or was advertised (about a half a mile) along poorly lit roads that had limited sidewalks that are in need of repair. Thank you Peter (my son) for the flashlight!!. 

As I sit on the balcony writing this blog, the wind has picked up, and it is raining hard again.  We hope this passes soon so that we can get out and walk around and see what else we can find that will brighten our mood.  First impressions are not always what they seem.  But perhaps I am just growing tired of third world conditions where I constantly have to remember that all toilet paper has to be disposed of in waste baskets instead of being flushed and sanitation seems less important in this part of the world.  Somehow I didn’t mind all this in Costa Rica.  We were closer to a beautiful beach, I knew where to have a good meal and we had a car that sheltered us from the dusty roads.

We’ve been told that VZ leader Hugo Chavez is not interested in bolstering tourism, so he doesn’t care about repairing sidewalks or roads. This is unfortunate for the people on the island who depend upon tourism. Some are trying to decide what to do if Chavez is re-elected again.  Currently, all the cruise ships with tourists that once made frequent visits do not come here anymore, and direct flights from the United States have stopped.   Like Costa Rica, car rentals and car ownership is expensive.  However, it costs only about a US dollar to fill up an SUV, due to the very low price of gas.  One bright spot last night was that we did find a restaurant where I had a fantastic grilled, whole red snapper, and Michael had a very tasty spaghetti carbonara and the 9 oz beers were at giveaway prices. I even took a chance and ate a salad without any ill effects.  Our B&B hosts at Casa Trudel couldn’t be nicer.  Dan is originally from Canada, but has lived here on the island for 25 years, and his wife is a friendly and generous Venezuelan.  Hopefully, future impressions of this part of our trip will only get better as the weather improves and we have more time to explore what Margarita has to offer.  In the meantime, do not sell our home no matter what we say in the ransom notes!!   

Downtime in Bogota

January 20, 2012

We are off to Caracas and Isla Margarita tomorrow.  Here in Bogota we have had a few days of intermittent rain and temperatures in the low 60’s, so going to warmer weather and returning to sea level will be a welcome change.  It seems to rain every afternoon here, and today it rained hard and brought thunder, lightning, and pea- size hail stones. Because begin our walks with the sun shining, we are always caught off guard.  The first time this happened, a couple days ago, we had to hail a taxi for the short 4 block ride back to the apartment. So today, I prepared and packed an umbrella and a poncho. The weather again was not threatening rain, so Michael declined to bring his extra provisions.  But about an hour into our walk, we had to run for cover along with the rest of the visitors in Candelaria.  Fortunately for me, we waited in a shopping area where there were multiple stalls, all selling something slightly different and appealing.  I even had an opportunity to watch a woman from Ecuador crochet a Mochila purse. Michael got to practice his Spanish, talking with shopkeepers when words failed me and I needed to ask questions or find out what things cost.  

When the rain lightened a little, and Michael’s patience for shopping ran out, I decided he should wear the poncho, and I would use the umbrella so that we could manage the trip back without getting too soaked. We had to dodge fast moving, river-like streams rushing down the narrow streets which became steadily more crowded by slow moving taxis and motorcycles. Also, we had to compete with people crowding the sidewalks with their umbrellas, and watch out for those running for shelter.  

We have enjoyed our time sampling what “Old Town” Bogota has to offer. We have eaten and enjoyed typical Colombian food, gone to museums, and stopped in a few souvenir shops.  But mostly, we feel grateful to have had the opportunity to get to know and hang out with our new Colombian friends, whom we hope will come visit us in Los Angeles one day. And even thought the weather has not been perfect, and I did suffer a little altitude sickness one day, we have taken the time to catch up on some needed rest that short term travelers often put off in deference to fit in more sight-seeing.  To us it is more like living a normal life, not pressured to pack a lot of activity into every single day.

We will be cutting our stay a few days short on Isla Margarita to return home briefly on January 26^th for a celebration of life luncheon for Michael’s mother, Donna, who, on January 8^th, at eighty-seven, peacefully died in her sleep with her daughters by her side.  This was not totally unexpected because she had not been well for many months.  However, she would intermittently have good days, which made us all hopeful that somehow she could live forever.  Sadly for us, we had planned this trip long before her health status changed so dramatically.  It was not without some conflicting feelings that we left on December 19^thknowing we may never see her again. 

Yet, as we left, we hoped somehow she would just continue to live with only intermittent problems and would still be there upon our return.  At least now she is at peace, and her health challenges are at an end.  Donna was a wonderful, loving, and thoughtful woman who had many friends. She was an unselfish and devoted mother to four, grandmother to eleven, and great-grandmother to eight.  She will be missed by all those who loved her and spent time with her during her long life. We feel that this change in plans will be an important opportunity to share the memories of her life with the people whom she loved. 

On the night of January 30^th we will leave LA on another flight, returning to Caracas to

continue our onward journey to Argentina. Our brief return home will also give us the added opportunity to leave souvenirs and unnecessary items, which will lighten our load. This is something travelers on a six month journey seldom get to do. For those of you who have followed us thus far, we hope you will continue to follow us as we travel south once again.