When I was told that there was “limited internet” at the
estancia, I thought to myself, “No big deal; I have dealt with no cell service
and limited internet many times before.”
Well, not like this, I haven’t.
At this particular estancia, “limited internet” means [severely] limited
– as in, employees only have access to a tiny hotspot that only works in the
dining room (which we are not allowed in) and kitchen. Oh yeah, and we are only allowed on it
between the hours of 2pm and 6pm. Did I
mention that we are often have lunch at 1:30pm then start work again 3:15pm? Not a huge window of opportunity. Anyway, the point of this prologue is to make
excuses for why I have not posted anything since I left the states and to
explain why the adventures that my best friend and I had a month ago are just
now being shared with the world. Anyway,
here it goes, my first week in Argentina:
Day 1: Step off the plane and immediately regret my clothing
choice of jeans, t-shirt, jacket, and scarf.
Shaylin (the aforementioned bff) and I both travelled from cold places
in the United States, and therefore had to dress according so that we did not
freeze into icicles before getting on our respective planes. On the flip side, this meant that as soon as
we stepped off the plane and into the 90 degree weather with 80% humidity
enveloping the BA airport, our bodies – mine especially – went into panic mode
and turned us into human waterfalls. To
top it off, our complimentary shuttle to the hostel never came so we had to
work out how to get a taxi. Neither of
us speaks Spanish which made this much more challenging. Over two hours after landing in this brutal
heat, we were gratefully walking into our hostel, ditching our damp clothes,
and changing into shorts and t-shirts so that we could explore the surrounding
area. Like little kids that want to
explore but not lose sight of their mothers, we stayed close to the street that
our hostel was on while tentatively testing our directional skills as we
branched out into the neighboring avenues.
Following an hour of aimless wandering, we decided that we deserved a
break and found a small café with outdoor seating and an understandable
menu. This meal began one of our
favorite activities while in the city: people watching. My favorite thing about eating in this
country is that no one rushes you. Even
if you finish all of your food and are simply sitting and talking, reading, or
people watching, no one hovers around your table to passively aggressively get
you to feel awkward and leave. Nope;
they leave you on your own and you could sit for hours without being
bothered. I loved it!
 |
| Recoleta Cemetery |
Day 2: Time to leave the nest. We wanted to see as much of Buenos Aires as
possible, which meant that we needed to combine all of our street smarts,
Spanish skills, and patience to venture out of Palermo, the borough that our
hostel was in, and into the surrounding neighborhoods that comprise this
massive city. Our first outing was to
Recoleta. It boasts 100-year-old
palaces, the most expensive cemetery plots in the world, and numerous markets
with handmade crafts and traditional Argentine trinkets. The area is so famous that it is host to
several free walking tours, encouraging both naïve tourists (such as ourselves)
and curious locals to join the tour and learn about this historic neighborhood. Over the next nine hours, Shaylin and I successfully
navigated the underground metro system, got lost among the old stone alleyways,
eventually found the tour group, learned a ton about the history of Recoleta,
discovered why there are so many pizzerias in Buenos Aires, gained a new
appreciation for cold beverages, discovered that we have terrible map
interpretation skills, and achieved almost 20,000 steps on her Fitbit! The tour itself lasted about 6 hours and
included stops such as an imposingly ornate Jewish synagogue, several restored
palaces, beautiful parks and plazas, San Martin’s monument, the Big Ben of
Argentina, and finally, the cemetery of Recoleta where Eva Peron is buried
amongst other wealthy and well-known Argentines. This cemetery was incredible; no wonder it is
the most expensive piece of real estate in the country. One tiny plot – on which massive, intricate
memorials, mausoleums, and 18 coffin vaults are erected – can cost anywhere
from $30,000 to $150,000 USD! The entire
cemetery is only about 4 city blocks but beneath the lavish tombs lay nearly
4,700 individuals, grouped together with their families. Sixty-five caretakers are required to
maintain the cemetery; families pay annual fees to keep their plots looking
polished. These fees make up the
caretakers’ salaries, so if a family stops paying for their plot, the
caretakers stop caring for it and it ends up looking like your more traditional
grave: dusty, graying, and covered in wilted flowers and dried leaves.
Following our stroll through the cemetery, we meandered through
the street fair until our bellies grumbled in protest. From that point, it took us another hour to
find this specific restaurant that had been recommended to us. We were exhausted, our feet were sore, and we
were beyond the point of being ‘hangry,’ but as soon as we entered this
paradise we knew that it had been worth the sixty minutes of circling. The atmosphere was totally relaxed and with a
constant breeze cooling the air, we settled into our seats and awaited our
food. Holy cow. It was totally worth the wait. This food was absolutely fantastic! Some kind of pumpkin and corn concoction for
Shaylin and a delicious, cheesy pasta dish for me. We could barely move from the table afterwards.
Day 3: Two and a half years in Tanzania without incident,
but can’t go three days in Argentina without being pickpocketed. Yep.
That happened. Like a naïve,
trusting, first-time-out-of-the-country tourist I allowed myself to get pickpocketed. It happened while we were standing on a
crowded bus on our way to La Boca, more specifically El Caminito. While I was grasping the bar to avoid
toppling over as the bus wove through traffic without heed to traffic laws,
someone reached into my bag and plucked out my entire wallet. Why was I even carrying my whole wallet? Because I am lazy and stupid. I even thought that morning about locking up
my wallet and just taking a couple pesos but habit won out and I brought my
entire wallet. Goodbye, credit
card. Farewell, license. Adios, all my cash money. Nice knowing you,
flash drives. Have a nice new life,
scuba diving license, REI card, Smith’s card, and Teton County library card; we
had a good run. When I discovered my
wallet missing, I felt sick to my stomach and was incredibly upset with myself
for being so careless. Fortunately for
me, Shaylin was there to bail me out, my mom wired me money the next day, and a
local artist brought a smile to my face.
Now that my stupidity has been exposed to all, time to move on and tell
y’all about how great the rest of the day was!
 |
| Olivia |
El Caminito in La Boca is the most easily recognizable area
in Buenos Aires. It is difficult to miss
the vibrant colors and lively caricatures that cover the buildings on this
street and set it apart from anywhere else in the city. It looks as if someone brought beach house
vibes to this random street in La Boca.
The energy pulsating through the cobbled streets was palpable, and was
due to more than just the excessive number of sun-burned, water guzzling,
picture snapping tourists. La Caminito
hosts countless tango dancers and traditional singers; you are guaranteed to
see at least two sets of tango dancers performing at any given time. And if the dancers are resting, there is
always an older Argentine man to take the stage and belt out traditional songs accompanied
by an accordion which creates a sound that would seem more at home in Italy
than in Argentina. We blended in with
the throngs of tourists gaping at the dancers, musicians, and colorful
buildings; it was a complete sensory overload.
As we wandered through the shops, we met Guillermo and Olivia, little
did I know what an impression they would make on me. Guillermo is a local artist who creates
wistful images of tango dancers and dreamy landscapes; Olivia is his stylish
canine companion who perches beside him on her own stool. It was as Shaylin was perusing his work that
I discovered my missing wallet. In vain,
I tried to mask my distress but Guillermo realized that I was upset, and
without hesitation offered to bring me to his home so that I could use his
computer/internet to cancel my cards. He offered me water to drink and a place
to sit down. He was genuinely concerned
for me and distraught that a fellow Argentine had been the cause of my
grief. As I was trying to keep myself
composed, he brought me to tears by giving me a drawing and sketching a self-portrait
on the back. His compassion for me, a
total stranger, was so unexpected that I could not even react in an
appropriately gracious manner. Once
again, in a time of distress, someone has reminded me that there is infinitely
more goodness and infinitely more kind people in the world than there are
bad. With a drawing from Guillermo, and
a snuggle from Olivia, I was braced for the rest of the day and able to enjoy
the rest of our time in this fantastically colored neighborhood. The gelato we got later that night further
helped to revive my spirits :)
 |
| THE best friend a girl could ask for |
Day 4: Our fourth day in this expansive city was spent at
the Tigre Delta, touring the communities that inhabit the banks of the
river. On this particular day, we used
all forms of transportation – train, bus, and boat – to get the full experience
of this unique area. Boat taxis are the
main form of transportation in the delta region, so we hopped aboard. We went on a quick tour of the neighborhoods
perched on the banks and enjoyed the view from the boat. Nearly every home had a small wooden dock and
some sort of personal water vessel. As
we puttered along, I found myself thinking, “I wonder if this is what the
bayous in Louisiana look like.” I have
never been to that part of the country, but I imagine the bayous to be filled
with similar scenery: mossy trees, willows draped over the bank, hammocks strung
between trees, muddy water charging the land then retreating as boats pass, and
wooden houses on stilts set back from the river. Whether or not this is an accurate image, I
really enjoyed the peacefulness of being on the boat and getting a different
perspective on these homes. At the end
of the tour we were deposited on a small beach so that we could swim and nap in
the warm sunshine. Following another boat ride, train ride, then bus ride, we
arrived back in the Palermo borough where we wasted no time in finding a bottle
of wine and refreshing salads, and made ourselves at home on our hostel’s
outdoor patio.
Day 5: So many bakeries!
Because we had been going non-stop for the past few days, we decided to
reward ourselves and sleep in - at least as much as one can sleep in while in a
crowded hostel. The only productive
thing that we did on this day was to buy our ferry tickets for the following
day; we were going to Uruguay! Other than
that, we made it our mission to tour as many local bakeries as possible and
sample the deliciousness. A lazy, but
satisfying, day.
Day 6: Eight hours in another country. That was about all it took to explore
Colonia, Uruguay. We had been warned
about how tiny this historical port town was and our informant was not exaggerating. While very charming, there was not much to
this tiny village. Upon leaving the
ferry, you walk about 15 minutes up the coast to reach the town. To enter, you walk through a carved stone archway
with a drawbridge. A tall, but crumbling,
stone wall surrounded the town limits; this must have been a well-protected
area in its prime. Most of the streets
were uneven cobblestone, worn down from years of foot traffic and carts
bouncing along its surface. In the
center of the town is a lighthouse, the top of which affords a spectacular
panoramic view of the coast and town.
The cool breeze and fresh air was a relief from the stifling, still air
below and the harsh sun. It took about
90 minutes for us to explore the alleyways of Colonia, then we ventured out
into the more modern part of the town in search of shade, food, and a perfect
people-watching spot. We found an ideal café
on a busy street and enjoyed our vantage point for over 2 hours before
reluctantly leaving and finding our way back to the dock to board the ferry
home. I am glad that we went to check it
out, but if I was to do it again I might skip Colonia, or at least go on a
guided tour so that I understand the history of the quiet port village.
 |
| fishing with a bamboo rod and piece of string |
 |
| view from the ferry coming back into BA |
Day 7: Adios mi amiga. The time has come: time for me to put on my
big girl pants, say goodbye to my best friend and co-adventurer, and prepare
myself for the next four months. Shaylin
was scheduled to get on a plane at 9pm and I had an overnight bus to catch at
10:15pm. This meant that we got to spend
most of the day together before parting ways. We dedicated the morning and
early afternoon to discovering the popular local spots of Palermo. We happened upon a sprawling park with a
large pond, and extensive rose garden. As we watched people in paddle boats trawling
around the pond we walked the entire circumference, determined to reach our
daily goal of 10,000 steps. Our stroll
through the park was ended by our persistent desire for food. (Are you catching
the theme here??) Our bellies lead us to the opposite side of Palermo where we
found an outdoor market and numerous cafes.
After perusing our options, we chose one with a view of the market and
plenty of outdoor seating. As much as I
love exploring new places and experiencing new cultures, my favorite part of
this week was getting to spend countless hours with Shaylin, just catching up
on life, talking about nothing and everything at once, and sitting in
companionable silence. I am terrible at
staying in touch, so between living in Tanzania and working in Wyoming with no
cell phone service, I lost touch with my friends. Thankfully, our friendship is a forgiving
one; a group of us have been friends since 3rd and 4th
grade and no matter where we are in the world, it is a friendship that will
persist and last a lifetime. When
Shaylin got in the taxi to go to the airport, all of these thoughts were going
through my head and I realized how blessed I am to have such amazing people in
my life. Then it set in that I was once again alone, in a foreign country, with
no language skills, and my thoughts turned to something along the lines of, “What
the hell am I doing?! What will my life be like for the next 4 months? I wish Shaylin was still here. I need to call my mom…” And so my solo adventure in Argentina began.
 |
| Dog Walker is a profession in BA; compared to others, this guy is an amateur |
Day 1: Step off the plane and immediately regret my clothing
choice of jeans, t-shirt, jacket, and scarf.
Shaylin (the aforementioned bff) and I both travelled from cold places
in the United States, and therefore had to dress according so that we did not
freeze into icicles before getting on our respective planes. On the flip side, this meant that as soon as
we stepped off the plane and into the 90 degree weather with 80% humidity
enveloping the BA airport, our bodies – mine especially – went into panic mode
and turned us into human waterfalls. To
top it off, our complimentary shuttle to the hostel never came so we had to
work out how to get a taxi. Neither of
us speaks Spanish which made this much more challenging. Over two hours after landing in this brutal
heat, we were gratefully walking into our hostel, ditching our damp clothes,
and changing into shorts and t-shirts so that we could explore the surrounding
area. Like little kids that want to
explore but not lose sight of their mothers, we stayed close to the street that
our hostel was on while tentatively testing our directional skills as we
branched out into the neighboring avenues.
Following an hour of aimless wandering, we decided that we deserved a
break and found a small café with outdoor seating and an understandable
menu. This meal began one of our
favorite activities while in the city: people watching. My favorite thing about eating in this
country is that no one rushes you. Even
if you finish all of your food and are simply sitting and talking, reading, or
people watching, no one hovers around your table to passively aggressively get
you to feel awkward and leave. Nope;
they leave you on your own and you could sit for hours without being
bothered. I loved it! 
Day 2: Time to leave the nest. We wanted to see as much of Buenos Aires as
possible, which meant that we needed to combine all of our street smarts,
Spanish skills, and patience to venture out of Palermo, the borough that our
hostel was in, and into the surrounding neighborhoods that comprise this
massive city. Our first outing was to
Recoleta. It boasts 100-year-old
palaces, the most expensive cemetery plots in the world, and numerous markets
with handmade crafts and traditional Argentine trinkets. The area is so famous that it is host to
several free walking tours, encouraging both naïve tourists (such as ourselves)
and curious locals to join the tour and learn about this historic neighborhood. Over the next nine hours, Shaylin and I successfully
navigated the underground metro system, got lost among the old stone alleyways,
eventually found the tour group, learned a ton about the history of Recoleta,
discovered why there are so many pizzerias in Buenos Aires, gained a new
appreciation for cold beverages, discovered that we have terrible map
interpretation skills, and achieved almost 20,000 steps on her Fitbit! The tour itself lasted about 6 hours and
included stops such as an imposingly ornate Jewish synagogue, several restored
palaces, beautiful parks and plazas, San Martin’s monument, the Big Ben of
Argentina, and finally, the cemetery of Recoleta where Eva Peron is buried
amongst other wealthy and well-known Argentines. This cemetery was incredible; no wonder it is
the most expensive piece of real estate in the country. One tiny plot – on which massive, intricate
memorials, mausoleums, and 18 coffin vaults are erected – can cost anywhere
from $30,000 to $150,000 USD! The entire
cemetery is only about 4 city blocks but beneath the lavish tombs lay nearly
4,700 individuals, grouped together with their families. Sixty-five caretakers are required to
maintain the cemetery; families pay annual fees to keep their plots looking
polished. These fees make up the
caretakers’ salaries, so if a family stops paying for their plot, the
caretakers stop caring for it and it ends up looking like your more traditional
grave: dusty, graying, and covered in wilted flowers and dried leaves. 
Day 3: Two and a half years in Tanzania without incident,
but can’t go three days in Argentina without being pickpocketed. Yep.
That happened. Like a naïve,
trusting, first-time-out-of-the-country tourist I allowed myself to get pickpocketed. It happened while we were standing on a
crowded bus on our way to La Boca, more specifically El Caminito. While I was grasping the bar to avoid
toppling over as the bus wove through traffic without heed to traffic laws,
someone reached into my bag and plucked out my entire wallet. Why was I even carrying my whole wallet? Because I am lazy and stupid. I even thought that morning about locking up
my wallet and just taking a couple pesos but habit won out and I brought my
entire wallet. Goodbye, credit
card. Farewell, license. Adios, all my cash money. Nice knowing you,
flash drives. Have a nice new life,
scuba diving license, REI card, Smith’s card, and Teton County library card; we
had a good run. When I discovered my
wallet missing, I felt sick to my stomach and was incredibly upset with myself
for being so careless. Fortunately for
me, Shaylin was there to bail me out, my mom wired me money the next day, and a
local artist brought a smile to my face.
Now that my stupidity has been exposed to all, time to move on and tell
y’all about how great the rest of the day was!
Day 6: Eight hours in another country. That was about all it took to explore
Colonia, Uruguay. We had been warned
about how tiny this historical port town was and our informant was not exaggerating. While very charming, there was not much to
this tiny village. Upon leaving the
ferry, you walk about 15 minutes up the coast to reach the town. To enter, you walk through a carved stone archway
with a drawbridge. A tall, but crumbling,
stone wall surrounded the town limits; this must have been a well-protected
area in its prime. Most of the streets
were uneven cobblestone, worn down from years of foot traffic and carts
bouncing along its surface. In the
center of the town is a lighthouse, the top of which affords a spectacular
panoramic view of the coast and town.
The cool breeze and fresh air was a relief from the stifling, still air
below and the harsh sun. It took about
90 minutes for us to explore the alleyways of Colonia, then we ventured out
into the more modern part of the town in search of shade, food, and a perfect
people-watching spot. We found an ideal café
on a busy street and enjoyed our vantage point for over 2 hours before
reluctantly leaving and finding our way back to the dock to board the ferry
home. I am glad that we went to check it
out, but if I was to do it again I might skip Colonia, or at least go on a
guided tour so that I understand the history of the quiet port village.
Day 7: Adios mi amiga. The time has come: time for me to put on my
big girl pants, say goodbye to my best friend and co-adventurer, and prepare
myself for the next four months. Shaylin
was scheduled to get on a plane at 9pm and I had an overnight bus to catch at
10:15pm. This meant that we got to spend
most of the day together before parting ways. We dedicated the morning and
early afternoon to discovering the popular local spots of Palermo. We happened upon a sprawling park with a
large pond, and extensive rose garden. As we watched people in paddle boats trawling
around the pond we walked the entire circumference, determined to reach our
daily goal of 10,000 steps. Our stroll
through the park was ended by our persistent desire for food. (Are you catching
the theme here??) Our bellies lead us to the opposite side of Palermo where we
found an outdoor market and numerous cafes.
After perusing our options, we chose one with a view of the market and
plenty of outdoor seating. As much as I
love exploring new places and experiencing new cultures, my favorite part of
this week was getting to spend countless hours with Shaylin, just catching up
on life, talking about nothing and everything at once, and sitting in
companionable silence. I am terrible at
staying in touch, so between living in Tanzania and working in Wyoming with no
cell phone service, I lost touch with my friends. Thankfully, our friendship is a forgiving
one; a group of us have been friends since 3rd and 4th
grade and no matter where we are in the world, it is a friendship that will
persist and last a lifetime. When
Shaylin got in the taxi to go to the airport, all of these thoughts were going
through my head and I realized how blessed I am to have such amazing people in
my life. Then it set in that I was once again alone, in a foreign country, with
no language skills, and my thoughts turned to something along the lines of, “What
the hell am I doing?! What will my life be like for the next 4 months? I wish Shaylin was still here. I need to call my mom…” And so my solo adventure in Argentina began.
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