Current Release: September 11th, 2007 | Vol. XXIV Iss. 10

Staff Abroad

Lauren Perry

laperry@vwc.ewdu

Buenos Aires is truly said to be either the New York or Paris of South America.

And typical of any grand city, there has not yet been a moment where I´ve been able to say I was bored. Usually, the international students in my class tend to be wakened by the teacher because of exhaustion from keeping their nights full with Buenos Aires´ wild night life, then trying to fit in a full weekend with new experiences in the light.

So what might a typical weekend down here look like to the average international student?

If the intensive Spanish course kept some students from exploring the night life during the week (though it probably didn’t), then Friday night finds the bariloches, or discotechas, packed with a diverse mix that represents well the state of the international city as a whole.

I found myself at a bariloche called Living, an old mansion converted to two levels of diverse rooms ranging from ‘80s music to electronic, both accompanied by multiple wall-sized screens for the music videos. The black lights and wild array of decorative art ranging from old gothic style furniture to modern art deco kept you on your toes, if the music didn´t.

I found out the hard way: don´t wear sandals. The packed crowd alone is jeopardizing enough for your toes, but add to that the random glass from dropped drinks scattered all over the floor and it can be quite a hazardous place to dance.

The city of Buenos Aires doesn´t slow down until dawn, which comes at about 6:30, and most students drag themselves home then only to wake up five or six hours later and feel that inevitable urge to do something with their day while in this loco cuidad. I filled my day with wanderings to parks to drink mate with some friends. Then, it was off to The Museum of Decorative Art that, as usual in Buenos Aires, had that characteristic of randomness which led the huge old place to consist of Chinese, Roman, French, Argentine, Japanese, Cambodian and American art, all within the walls of an old French mansion again put to good use.

Lunch is always a fun way to explore new restaurants and interesting food. My friend and I dug our noses into a Lonely Planet book and tracked our way to a little place called Krishna, dedicated to the

Hindu god and rivaling in brilliant color the barrio of Boca itself. The mirrors along the tops of the tiny rooms gave the little place an airy feeling, while a group of devoted Hare Krishnas sang and played instruments. I could barely decipher enough to explain their resulting mysterious music. Photos and art were hung with that random touch, as faces of Janis Joplin, Krishna, Buddha, Jesus and Jimi Hendrix watched us eat thali and drink ginger lemonade.

While walking back to the subte along a random street, and dodging the littering of dog poop that characterizes every sidewalk of Buenos Aires (and I mean every single one), my friends and I happened upon a very old and decrepit-looking building. We walked along it for a while, trying to guess what the chained rusty gate, barred windows and lounging cats might have once represented, when a few windows began to betray signs of life.

Well, maybe it’s an abandoned building of some sort (mansion, probably) that now houses the homeless? Flickering, flourescent lights and plants drooping from windows began to give us doubt, and finally, when we saw a suspicious, clear plastic bag hanging inside a room, we asked a passing porteño.

This crumbling, black and gray haunting of a place, picturesque of a Scooby Doo cartoon, was a large public hospital. We confirmed it later online. I won´t betray the name of the place, but it is actually fairly popular.

That night I tried to balance the images of color, beauty and decay that encompassed my thoughts. The mix of beauty and chaos, cleanliness and dog poop, and above all the diversity to handle it, lays the foundation of the cobbled streets of Buenos Aires.