First Impressions: Buenos Aires
Argentinians are Italians who speak Spanish, dress French and think they are British. At least, that’s what they say… I’ve never been to Italy, Spain, France or England, but it sounds pretty good so I’ll run with it. Not being able to compare Buenos Aires to any European city is a good thing of course, you’ll not hear “the bars are just like Barcelona” or “the pizza was worthy of Naples” or “the sidewalk is reminiscent of Rue Truffaut” with phoney French accents in my first impressions, no Sir … this is Buenos Aires: unadulterated. But first I should give a little disclaimer: it won’t be Buenos Aires the province; that’s a big place about the size of Arizona. I’ll be talking about the Federal Capital, one area to be exact, the barrio of Palermo – I haven’t really seen much of anything else. As far as travellers go, I’m a bit strange like that, I find a place I like and stay there. Kinda reminds me of San Francisco actually …
I’d been in San Francisco for over a year before I learned that there were trams that could take you under the hill to a strange new world where bars served non-Mexican beer and there were university students who played drinking games involving ping pong balls and it rained fog and sure you might meet some new people … but really, what’s the point? I lived in the Mission. I chose to live in the Mission so I wouldn’t have to go to other places like that. Likewise, when I got to Buenos Aires I walked through Recoleta, Centro and San Telmo, back through Villa Crespo, Palermo and the lower side of Belgrano … by the time I finished I knew I would live in Palermo, somewhere between Plaza Serrano and Plaza Italia to be exact, and I haven’t left.
OK, enough with the disclaimers, on with the first impressions of Buenos Aires:
It’s a sexy city
I’m not just talking about the people (although a large percentage of the population – girls and guys – do just happen to be head-turningly, jaw-droppingly, watch-where-you-goingly beautiful). People make eye contact as they walk down the street, flirt as they pay the cashier and make out at bus stops… which sounds sleazy, yet they manage to pull it off. It’s the looks, the sass, the confidence … I don’t know … they invented tango here, what else can you say.
The food is great
Asado (BBQ meats), empanadas, good coffee and an endless array of cakes and biscuits and dulce de leche … ooo dulce de leche. Food has been the biggest increase in my quality of life since I got here from SF, perhaps not as good in selection compared to Melbourne, but it’s cheap. You can get steak from the carnicero for around 17$/kilo (less than $US5), or you can go out and have a meal at a restaurant, a place down the road offer a three course meal with coffee for 44$ (about $US12)… and it’s good!
However, I do have two gripes about the food. One, it seems almost impossible to get something spicy hot … I don’t know what happened, I thought South America was all about the chili but somehow that and a lot of other basic herbs and spices just fell out of favour here. Also, the pizzas … the pizzas are alright, and they’re everywhere, but it’s all dough and muzzarella. There’s a 100 pizza places in Palermo, there must be one that does a thin crust pizza with sun-dried tomatos, bocconcini and basil .. but I ain’t found it yet.
Oh, and one more thing. This is an omnivores opinion, if you’re a vegetarian you might not be so thrilled with the food and if you’re a vegan … you should probably think about packing something before you come.
The economic crisis in 2001 really fucked with people’s heads
Everyone is either a psychiatrist or seeing a psychiatrist. It’s almost a cliché here, but it’s true, almost everyone I’ve met is seeing a shrink. This was probably true before the economic collapse but it has taken on an extra relevance in the last decade. I didn’t realise how bad things had got – have a quick look at the wikipedia entry if you have the time – but basic story I’ve got from the locals is; things got bad, then they couldn’t withdraw any money from the bank, then the middle class took to the streets with pots and pans, then things got real bad, some people died, the President took off in a helicopter, they unpegged the Peso from the US dollar, a lot of people lost a lot of money overnight, then shit got really bad.
The second half of the decade was a lot better for Argentina and to walk around the city you wouldn’t really think there was any major problems, but the latest stock market collapse has reignited some fears. You get a sense of the anxiety every now and then, like a café that would rather give you 2$ note rather than the $1 coin in change, or ATMs that have $300 Peso withdrawal limits or a Taxi driver I had recently that insisted on taking one 10$ note over another .. I’m still not sure what that was about.
El perro ensucia
Dog shit. I probably shouldn’t bring this up, Porteños seem to get a little defensive when I do, “Well, we have a lot of dogs” they say. It’s true. They have a lot of dogs and I really love dogs. I’m also no stranger to poo it must be said. But there’s something about dog poo that unsettles me, I’ve been known to walk 100’s of unnecessary metres, following the concrete path rather than walk across grass which could potentially contain the little land mines. Suffice to say, my dog poo radar is pretty damn good nowadays, but those first few weekends when I would walk home, in the dark, drunk (naturally) and land, skid and sometimes nearly goddamn fall over in the stuff … well, it did leave an impression.
