I got up late, but that was OK. I had a bigger than usual cup of maté that morning because I had a lot to do. I headed out past the train station where I was the day before and I walked around this neighborhood by the Law School for the University of Buenos Aires. Close by was Floralis Genérica, a huge mechanical flower in the middle of the city that moves throughout the day. There is also another interesting landmark, a large ground mural of the most famous Argentinian in the world.
Ernesto “Che” Guevara grew up in an upper-class family in the Rosario neighborhood in Buenos Aires. He attended medical school and through his travels around Latin America, he became radicalized by the poverty he witnessed and saw the United States government and its powerful corporation like the United Fruit Company as the main culprits. In his travel ended up meeting two exiled brothers in Mexico that wished to overthrow the pro-American government in Cuba and he volunteered to help. In 1959, they succeeded and the team of Guevara and the brothers Castro became international symbols of the counter-culture against Capitalism. While he could have rested on his laurels, he continued on trying to spread the revolution to Latin America but was eventually killed by government troops in Bolivia.
I walked around some, watching the kids run to their classes. I then headed to Puerto Madero for a beer, then San Telmo for a cider. I tried going to a lovely Italian restaurant that I enjoyed the last time I was in Buenos Aires, but it did not open until 8. I ended up having a late lunch at a burger joint. I got a barbecued bacon lamb burger. They added a fried egg on top, which I did not ask for, but was still delicious.
I then went back to the hostel. Along the way, I decided I was going to take a weekend trip to Uruguay as Oren needed my private room. A chance to scratch one more country off my list.
I headed down to say good night to Oren and Brenda. Being the ever consummate host, Oren told me he was going to hook me up with one of his friends. I thanked him but said I was OK. I headed to bed.
I awoke the next day and sent off a round of Happy Birthdays as a lot of my friends had them. After I did some work for a client, I decided to go see one of the most famous institutions of Buenos Aires, Cafe Tortoni.
Cafe Tortoni is a classic Italian coffee house and restaurant (and also the oldest) in the middle of the city between the Congress and the Casa Rosada. While it is a bit touristy with prices to match, the ambiance is unique in that it felt like I was back in Italy. As such, I ordered a Fernet with some strawberry ice cream and just people watched.
After there, I decided it was finally time to go see something that one of my tour guides mentioned a few weeks ago, so I headed to the Plaza de Mayo, in front of the Casa Rosada for the Mother’s March.
Every week for decades, mothers of the “disappeared” during the Dirty War, like the ones that were processed at ESMA hold a march, showcasing their plight. They affixed cloth diapers to their heads as a symbol that the diapers were the only things of their children that remained. They walked in a circle around the Plaza with banners and loudspeakers. Apparently, in an effort to suppress this movement in years past during the dictatorship, laws came down that people could not meet in groups bigger than three. To circumvent them, two mothers would walk next to each other in a line. Even though democracy is officially back in Argentina, these aging mothers still have no idea what happened with their children, and there has been little government effort to investigate. It was some pretty heavy stuff.
On my way back to the hostel, I stopped at my usual place to get a mileñese. I went up to my room and had a little chat with a client. In the time that I had known her, she had made close to $3 Million in the sale of various real estate. I told her where I was and I could hear the astonishment in her voice. She said that she really wanted to travel, but has not done it yet. I cannot speak for her, but money obviously was not the problem. It may have been time, responsibilities, or even fear.
I went up to my room, packed my bags for Uruguay after rewatching Hunger, and brought my suitcases down to be stored. I would just be taking a backpack to Uruguay. Oren was very gracious. We had a drink, then I went to bed. I was off to Uruguay for the weekend early in the morning.
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