One of the oldest areas of Buenos Aires is called La Boca or the mouth meaning the mouth of the river or the mouth of the village or town. In BA, this is the mouth of a small estuary called the Riochuelo River that flows into the Rio de la Plata. I like in the area to the east village of New York and that it has a certain artist quarter aspect to it with eclectically painted buildings many of which are made with what Chris calls riggle metal and the rest of us called corrugated metal. This is the area that we went to yesterday with our tour group and Kim and I got a chance to try Choripan, the local sausage sandwich with chimichurri sauce on it. Since Anne and Chris, who are with us today in a private van going around town before we have to go to the airport, had not gotten to see much of the city yesterday, we had the driver drive us through a number of areas, including the Plaza de Mayo, which was filled with crowds of people for a holiday demonstration of some sort, and then the La Boca area with all its colorful architecture and bohemian style.
Before going to La Boca, we went to Recoleta Cemetery, specifically to see the tomb of Eva Duarte Peron, the woman, we all know as Evita. I must admit I’ve never found cemeteries particularly interesting but Recoleta Cemetery is quite a bit different. The variety of styles of tombs was extremely interesting as we wandered through and looked at tombs from as long ago as almost 200 years right up to an including dooms of the last few years. I don’t know what the protocol is in a cemetery like this in terms of what one pays for a spot to build a crypt and what the maintenance program is for the cemetery is a whole, but it’s clear that once you build your tomb or crypt, it’s pretty much up to you and your family to figure out how it gets maintained over the years. sometimes are extremely well-maintained and looked like they are visited regularly by someone who cares for their condition. I guess in some cultures cemeteries are important. I believe more and more with cremation and less religious orientation, people are moving away from these family mausoleums. At this point cemeteries like Recoleta Cemetery seem more like an historical artifact than a present day place of reflection and worship. It wasn’t too hard to find Evita’s tomb, and it was also clear that despite the growing disillusionment about Evita’s history with Argentina and Buenos Aires, they are still a cadre of people who revere her and regularly leave red roses in her honor.
Today is a holiday in Buenos Aires and so traffic is light. There are many many people out, enjoying the city and pretty much all of the same places and sites that we would go to. It’s actually been a good day to get to see the city and familiarize ourselves with Buenos Aires, but I think now we are all just tired and prepared to go to the airport early. It’s funny because the last two stops. I have just chosen to sit in the car while Kim and Anne and Chris have gone about their walk about shopping. I did go into Mercado San Telmo with all of its fantastic local food stalls where we had more Choripan and some Bistecca Milanese sandwiches (something very much recommended to us to try here in BA). But now that everyone has had their shopping fix while I have sat in an air-conditioned Mercedes van waiting for the shoppers, using the time to catch up on news and do things like write this story, they’ve come to the conclusion that they’re ready to head to the airport lounges. I’m not sure there’s much difference for me between sitting in an air-conditioned van and sitting in an airport lounge, so I’m totally indifferent. That may not sound very adventuresome while we’re in a city like BA, that most consider exciting. Perhaps I’m just full up on excitement from this trip or maybe I have too many mixed memories of BA.
After a long trek through the very large BA airport terminal, we are on our Delta flight coming off the Gulf of Mexico. It’s surprising to us how much better the LatAm flight down was better than the Delta flight home. I take it as a sign of the times. There really is less and less advantage left to us Americans in a world where others progress and we regress. I am perhaps too tired from traveling to make sense, but this visit to the continent where I lived my first years seems like a fitting moment in life to wonder about the wealth of nations as Adam Smith might say. Unfortunately, I suspect we are all back at a version of La Boca as a symbol of our humble beginnings.