The vast expanse of Buenos Aires, Argentina, was in sharp contrast to the smaller European feel of Santiago, Chile. The instructions were specific and non-negotiable: (1) Lock away all jewelry, watches, and anything of value, and (2) Don’t walk alone after dark. Welcome to the big city.
The unruly, chaotic energy in the city is palpitating. The streets are crowded, and hustlers on Florida Avenue are pushy. The old antique market is charming, with shoulder to shoulder crowds. I love the energy, the old neighborhoods with bright colorful homes, and the street bands. I am particularly touched with the image of an old man with a walker, dancing gingerly to a loud Latin beat, with a rowdy crowd applauding his every shuffle. His zest for life was humbling and insightful. I will think of him the next time I complain of my own aches and pains.
We visited the old cemetery, positioned as a museum of monuments for the dead. I wonder how one captures the essence of a life well lived, in a four walled monument? The place is surreal, the mausoleums are elaborate, each more unique than the other. Evita’s shrine rubs shoulders with those of former Presidents. I think we make these elaborate structures more for the living, than for those who have passed away.
The economy in Argentina is in the midst of a financial crisis. Dollars are openly bought on street corners, for a lot more than the official exchange rate. “Watch out for fake currency,” we are warned. I saw a few homeless people sleeping on park benches and disturbing images of random people anxiously going through trash looking for something of value.
I feel surprisingly safe here — maybe because everything of value is locked up in the hotel safe. Better to be safe, than sorry!
About Hemant Rustogi