Antigua Casa Nuñez

The first thing we did after arriving in Buenos Aires and checking into the hostel was take a walk up calle (street) Sarmiento to the guitar shop Antigua Casa Nuñez. I nagged and nagged Amanda to go to Buenos Aires because I wanted a guitar; even though we are going to be here 3 months we HAD to go to Buenos Aires within the first few weeks. Before coming to Argentina I had researched this guitar shop- it was established in 1870 and has made classical guitars for famous guitarists such as Andres Segovia. I KNEW that if I was going to get a guitar in Argentina, it was going to be from this shop...

Below is a signed picture of Segovia playing on one of the the shop's guitars; it was hanging on the wall along with many other framed autographs of famous guitarists of Argentina. Segovia is one of the most famous classical guitarists; he was an amazing player, teacher, and he edited/transcribed a lot of music for the classical guitar.

I told Carlos (the guy in the background) that I already had a cedar guitar and would like to try a spruce guitar.

I played many guitars. One of the most expensive spruce guitars was brought to me the first day and I played it; I thought it was the one I was going to buy. After returning to the hostel for the night I emailed Larry Green (my guitar professor at BYU) and asked for any tips or advice about buying another guitar. I'm glad I contacted him because he mentioned that there can be major problems when buying a guitar in a humid climate and then taking it back the always dry Utah. Another person in my ensemble bought a guitar in South America and the body cracked when he took it back to Utah; Larry helped me contact a luthier in Utah who has made guitars for him and others at BYU so I could ask about the humidity problem.

I wanted to to find a cheaper guitar because I would be devastated if the nicest one cracked when I took it home. The cheaper guitars just weren't doing anything for me.... Carlos handed me another guitar that was hand made by the same luthier- Bartello- and I started to play. The stain on the guitar was really dark- dark enough to look like a cedar guitar. After I had "the moment" when you discover that this is the guitar, I asked how much it was (thinking it was one of the cheaper ones) and it turned out to be about 1500 pesos more than I thought. It was cheaper and not as nicely made (there are a few nails- nicer guitars are entirely glued) but it was more enjoyable to play and it sounded nicer than the expensive guitar.

I've had teachers explain that everyone who plays an instrument will have times when they don't make mistakes, the tone sounds wonderful, the dynamics and expression are working out, and you connect with the music. You just have "a moment," and these "moments" are the reason you struggle through the times when your sound sucks and you don't feel like practicing. Well, I had "a moment" with this guitar (below) and none of the others- that's when I knew it was the one...

To make a long story short, I bought the guitar (pictured above) and have worked out the humidity problem. It sounds nice and the deluxe, fancy case was thrown in for free- un regalo (gift). I spent more than I intended but I figured that I would have this guitar for years to come so why buy a piece of crap instead of the one I really wanted? I went back to the shop three times and planned my whole weekend around when the shop was open and when I should buy the guitar (because I didn't want to keep it in the hostel, yuck!). *speaking of hostels, they are okay for cheapo students like me (honestly it sucked), but when I'm rich and established some day, it's going to be nothing but the J Dubya Marriott. P.S. I don't consider the "hostel" in Cordoba a hostel... it's more of a really nice apartment.

Carlos charging my purchase (I have to believe they don't sell 3,000 peso guitars everyday and that he made a nice commission). I figure if anyone really, really wants to know how much I spent, they can google the conversion rate.

I didn't realize the guy taking the picture didn't actually get the guitar in the picture. Oh well, you can see the neck and some of the photos and guitars in the background.

I may upload video some other time so you can hear how it sounds.

Buenos Aires

Recoleta

We went back to the Barrio Recoleta and to the cemetary; it was worth a second trip back. We've read that to be burried in this cemetary you've got to 1. be rich, 2. famous, 3. have connections.

It was really beautiful and quiet because we had gotten there before all the big tour buses. As soon as the people started crowding in and getting in the way it wasn't as fun. I was kind of suprised how recent a lot of the burials/entombents were.

We went by Evita Peron's mausoleum; I'll admit, at first I thought it was her father's or a relative of hers. I was expecting it to be one of the huge, grand, and elaborate mausoleums that we had seen earlier.

Juan Peron had Evita's body in Spain (when he was in exile) after Peron died, Isabel Peron had Evitá's body returned and buried in her family (Duarte was her father) tomb. Even her husband-the president- didn't make the cut to be placed in Recoleta.

After Recoleta we asked for directions to another neighborhood in Buenos Aires- San Telmo. San Telmo has one of the best artesan markets in Argentina. We didn't go there first because it was raining that morning and the information desk at the hostel said it would be closed.

We started walking towards the subte (subway) and took a left instead of a right and got lost and had to backtrack. by the time we got on the subte and at the transfer station to another line it was too late. We had to be back to our hostel by 4:00 to meet a group to go to a football game. I was sad that we didn't make it to San Telmo- next time we'll make it.

River Plate vs. Banfield

We left from the hostel like 3 1/2 hours early. I guess the guide knew what he was doing because there were 3 or 4 different security checks we had to go through.

In my opinion watching the crowd was the funnest part of the game.

At first we were in the "tame" part of the crowd- there was some cheering but it was laid back enough for parents to take their small children and for people to sit down and watch the game. I watched as a group of guys spent at least a half hour trying to hang their ¨"La Salda" banner on the fence in the background (picture above). A lot of people took banners with the name of their barrio or names of players and hung them; I was talking to my mom the other night and we´ve decided that I should make a Provo, Utah banner to take with me to the next game.

Amanda and I decided to sneak further down into the standing crowd during halftime; it didn't feel like we were getting the real experience in the upper part of the stands. We wanted to be where everyone was shouting, throwing papers around, and jumping up and down. The next game we go to we are going to aim for the middle part of the stadium (picture below); this was where the real action was. Amanda snook over for a few minutes during half-time but decided to come back over where I was after she saw a guy sniff some cocaine.

Right before the game started an informal drumline marched out with people waving flags and banners. There were song-like cheers all throughout the game; when the opposing team (Banfield) came out there was a cheer calling them second class or number two- something like that. The next time we go to a game we want to learn some of the cheers before.

After River plate won the game, there were some flares nd more cheering. Each section of the stadium had to wait to be escorted out; I guess there had been some problems in the past with people getting trampled. They also didn't allow alcohol inside the stadium- one of the guys in our group was pulled over for a breathalizer test and almost wasn't let in because the genius downed almost a liter of beer on the bus ride over.

LA BOCA

A neighborhood in Buenos Aires settled by Italian immigrants from Genoa; it is believed by some that La Boca is named after a Genoa neighborhood called Boccadasse, however the more conventional explanation is that the neighborhood sits at the mouth (boca) of the Riachuelo.

The Caminito is the name of the walkway that is famous for the brightly painted shops and apartments. Today the caminito basically a tourist attraction with shops and tango dancers on the side of the street. Though it was nothing but tourists and restaraunt owners trying to recruit you to their cafe, we had a lot of fun.

*So I couldn't keep a strait face; this guy was looking so intently into my eyes while I was trying not to laugh. I wish I could have held a straight face for at least one shot, it would have made it even better.

They made me take my hair down and stick it through... a nice touch in my opinion.

We stopped for a drink and snack at a little cafe with a live tango show. They invited us up to pose.

Another guy posing with one of the tango dancers...

Overall, La Boca was very touristy but fun.

We split up after La Boca; Amanda went to El Tigre, and I walked around San Telmo (I'll post photos after our next trip to Buenos Aires and after the La Feria de San Pedro Telmo- the artesian fair that we missed because it is only open Sundays). I didn't want to get tied down to a tour group because I had some purchases to make.

Stay tuned because tomorrow is all about the new guitar and pink leather jacket.

"It's Only Monopoly Money"

Argentine pesos are so much easier to spend than US dollars. Pesos are still so foreign looking to us, it feels like we are spending Monopoly money.

Purse Vendor: "It's 110 pesos..."
Malaina: "OK! I'll take it!"

See... spending money here is "easy as pie." (name that movie!) But seriously, I'm blowing through cash faster than I can "pass go and collect my $200."

Today we kind of slept in. I got up and booked it to the guitar shop; I've been emailing my guitar teacher at BYU and he's made me aware that there could be a problem bringing a guitar from a humid climate to a dry climate. A friend in ensemble bought a guitar in South America and it started to dry out and crack when he brought it back to Utah; I don't know how diligent he was with putting a humidifier attachment in with the guitar when it was in the case. I found another guitar that is cheaper and that I like a lot more than the more expensive one I tried yesterday. I'm emailing a guitar luthier/friend of my teacher and asking him about the whole humidity/climate deal; I hope he gets back to me before Monday and tells me what I want to hear (i.e. climate will be no problem... have a fabulous time buying the guitar).

Amanda and I ate lunch at a parilla; I just got a piece of chicken but Amanda got a whole side of beef (ok not really but there was a lot). We ventured on the bus and made our way to the neighborhood Recoleta- it's home to the famous Recoleta cemetery where famous people like Eva Peron are buried.

There was a fabulous market/fair outside the cemetary.

We got a tinsy bit side tracked and by the time we got to the cemetary entrance they were kicking people out because it was closed. Ok so we are totally lame for getting there too late; we will go back and see the cemetary before leaving Buenos Aires. Tomorrow we get up EARLY! We are going to a Football game tomorrow and we need to see La Boca and San Telmo tomorrow.

We were walking down the street and found a classical guitarist playing with an amp... I had to stop and listen. He was really good... his technique looked good; I wasn't awed or anything but it was really nice to listen to.

We went to a dinner/tango show at a theater that was litterally one block from our hostel (we are so close to everything, it really is a fantastic location).

You can see part of the theater in the background...

We were both awed by the dancing...

The video below is only a small fraction of what we saw...

Amanda and I had to be the youngest ones in the theater. It was expensive but we both decided that we couldn't leave Buenos Aires without having gone to a tango show.

Buenos Aires

We took a night bus that left Cordoba at 10:15. We bought "full-cama" seats or seats that recline into beds; they were a lot bigger and nicer than airplane seats- except there was a big wad of gum on my seat. Needless to say, I (or I should say Amanda) didn't notice it until after walking around the bus terminal; she asked me what was all over my butt and then couldn't stop laughing. I didn't think it was that funny. I did think it was funny that she forgot to pack underwear though...

The food was nothing special. After the bus worker (I don't know what to call him) finished picking up all the trash, he came by with a tray full of some type of drink. He repeated it a couple of times but we just COULD NOT UNDERSTAND what he was saying; Amanda (afraid to miss ANYTHING) immediately took a cup- she still didn't know what it was. We were thinking it was some Argentine tea or herbal drink or something we just hadn't come across yet. I took the cup from her and we both sniffed it- it smelled different but we couldn't figure it out. I took a sip and it was pretty nasty; Amanda took a big gulp and it started burning. Ok, so maybe we really are two naive little LDS chicas and not the grand world travelers we'd like to think we are... it was whiskey.

After our "nightcap" we had a good laugh and slept most of the way to Buenos Aires; we arrived around 7:30 the next morning. It wasn't too bad... I slept about the same as I would have on a 10 hour flight.

Buenos Aires is absolutely incredible! We went to our hostel (it's located right in the middle of everything) dropped off our stuff and then headed towards the guitar shop (which turned out to be a few blocks up the street from us). I think I've found the guitar; it's really expensive so I have to think about it and decide by Monday.

We then headed towards the Plaza de Mayo which commemorates a resolution that lead to Argentine independence from Spain. The Plaza de Mayo was also made famous by a group of mothers that would march in protest because their children disappeared during the dirty war (period of military dictatorship 1976-1983).

This is the main cathedral in/near the Plaza

Ok so I just realized most of the pictures from the Plaza de Mayo are on Amanda's camera- I'll post them later.

We also went to the Plaza de la Republica where the big Obelisk is. It was constructed to commemorate the 400th aniversary of the first founding of the city.

Across the street from El Obelisco waiting to cross like 10 lanes of traffic...

We walked along Corrientes which can be compared to New York's Broadway. We found a musical version of Othello and decided to get tickets.

I love this shot... it's of us eating across the street from the theater after the show; you can see the theater "Teatro El Nacional" in the background.

Please note the white sandals. We had an hour and a half before the play started and the only shoes I had with me were my orange birkenstocks. We were a ways away from the hostel (and we had to run back to change and clean up) and I just wasn't finding the right shoes... I was being picky. I wanted some nice leather shoes and nothing was "speaking to me"- time was running out so I settled for some rubbery/plastic white sandals that are actually starting to grow on me. I am liking them a lot.

After intermission we snuck down from our cheap seats and sat where we could feel the air conditioner and have leg room to stretch our feet.

The whole thing was very nicely done. Othello was a Shakespeare that I never read in high school (my teacher preferred 1,000 page Russian tragedies where you get all the way through just to find out they throw themselves under a train).

We both got the gist of what was going on.

Tomorrow we go to Recoletta, La Boca, and maybe a tango show...

The Worst Pedicure EVER!

The whole culture shock thing is setting in. Who am I kidding? I've felt twinges of it from the beginning; at least I knew it was coming and I knew what to expect. When we moved to Malaysia I was a neurotic mess at the beginning- I was neurotic before we even got there! (but that's a whole other story) At least here the bouts of homesickness and culture shock last for a few hours and then pass on so I can go on with the rest of my day. It is always so much easier to blame your problems and frustrations on everyone else- that's why I have to remind myself that I'm the foreigner, the guest in this country that doesn't speak the language and doesn't know what she's doing.

Everyone here has been extremely nice and helpful- I'm just frustrated with me. Not being able to do the simplest things- like take a bus (because there are a million buses and I can't even remember how to say ¨bus stop¨ to ask where one is), or think of a single intelligent thing to say to the girls in the lab (I probably sound like a five year- old child) or figure out how to chew out the pedicure lady for torturing me (I'm getting to that, BELIEVE ME). Enough with the self-pity. I know I'm going to get to the point where I'm not so awkward and things come easier- it just takes time. This is all part of living abroad; does three months count? I say it counts

So I had to have a pedicure...

I kept an eye out, asked around, and finally found a place that advertised manicures and pedicures. In my wildest dreams I was hoping that pedicures in Argentina would be as nice and affordable as they were in Malaysia; NOT SO.

Normally when you get a pedi you soak your feet in a hot bath to soften everything up. At this joint they pulled out a freaking sander and went to work! I know my feet were a tad bit calloused but come on! Does this remind anyone else of that scene in Dumb and Dumber when they pull out the saw to trim Harry's toe nails? (My feet weren't that bad- promise)

A photo of the torture weapons...

So I'm not very proficient with Spanish- I figured sounds like "Ouch!" or "AH!" or audible gasps of breath combined with moving my foot away, were universal for "Damn lady, that hurts! Lighten it up a bit will ya?!!" Sadly, these signals were not universal.

I'm the dumbie for not walking out. I couldn't though- as bad as the whole experience was, I was morbidly fascinated. The whole process was unlike anything I'd ever seen; I kind of sat there and stared with my mouth hanging open- drool about to escape at any moment. At least now my curiosity has been appeased and I KNOW that I'm not missing out on anything.

After the whole fiasco, I stopped by a grocery store to get some baking powder and some shortening... I had my great grandmother's tortilla recipe in hand; I was on a mission. I found the baking powder, but what about the shortening? I knew I wasn't going to find Crisco, but I looked and looked for some kind of equivalent. I finally broke down and asked the girl at the pastry counter- I knew enough Spanish to describe what I needed (snaps for me!) and she found me some lard. It then occurred to me that even though the recipe called for Crisco, they probably didn't have the chemically- manufacterd/partially- hydrogenated/trans- fatty goodness of Crisco back when my great grandma made tortillas. I'm going to take a wild guess and say that she used lard? My grandma will let me know.

I've never made tortillas before but I think they turned out good.

They tasted really good...

We were both quite happy.

Amanda and I are leaving for Buenos Aires tonight (above picture is of us buying our tickets); all we have left to do is book a hostel. I probably won't be blogging for a few days but who knows? All I know is that I'm coming back with a guitar...