Finding Wisdom, Courage and Grace on the road less traveled.
Colon is a UNESCO World Heritage Site on the Southern Coast of Uruguay. It’s a gorgeous little town, with cobbled streets so old, you have to tip toe to keep from tripping between the cracks. The cafés are small, authentic and quiet – some so rustic and intimate, you’d mistake them for your grandmother’s kitchen.
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Dear Argentina,
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love you for your beauty: the ragged, raw, realness of your bittersweet glamour, your happy-tragic history, your painted walls and crackling curb sides. I love your Figuero Alcorta grandeur, ancient purple-blossom trees, French architecture, green parks of happy spoiled dogs.
I love you for your barrios: your rooftop cafes, your bodégans, your fresh quiet Belgrano streets. I love your crazy beautiful thunderstorms observed from sheltered coffee shops in quiet Palermo squares. I love your corner bakery shops, your fruit stands, your peluquerias bursting with banter and gossip.
I love the sing-song of your tongue: the rrrrolling of your r’s, the rrrounded echoes of your vowels, your ‘sha’ sounds and ‘yah’ sounds. I am tongue-tied and twisted in your Castellano, its Italian rhythms, its novelty, its foreign and familiar shapes and sounds.
I love the richness of your cuisine: your coco medialunas, your maté cocido with honey sweetness, your buttery steaks and crisp milanesa de pollos. I love your simple meals in small family kitchens with fresh tomatoes and olive oils and warm teas.
I love your helados delivery: the dulce de leche gustos in all incarnations con almendras y nuez y granizadas, los mentas, los frutillas, los bananas y ananas, and yes, maybe even the sambayon. I love the Freddos, and the Voltas, the Persiccos and the Ghianellis. I love the magic of everyday ice cream, of everyday celebrations, of everyday delights just because.
I love your leisure: your after-office-till-4am Wednesday parties, your long drawn out dinners, your sweet aired wines, your street-side eateries. I love your siestas and long lunches, your at-home dinners with friends till midnight, your coffee times and meriendas. I love that days are lived full and long, late into the night.
I love your tango: its slow, sweet, hard curves and sounds, its turn-abouts and swing-abouts, its push and pull, give and tease. I love that it ignites a fire inside me so raw and real and physical, not of mind or heart: just body and dance and movement.
I love your people: their deep friendships and close ties, their Sunday meals with family, their love for children, their anchors with home. I love that grown men caress their grandmothers, that sisters kiss their brothers, that fathers embrace their sons, that touch and love and affection are infinite and insatiable. I love their stories and gripes, their strong opinions and lofty dreams. I love that they love to love.
I love you: for the gifts that you have given in the last 50+ days, for the space and time and freedom that you’ve granted, for the creativity that you’ve inspired, for the love that you’ve nurtured, for the perspective that you’ve shown. I love that you were once a dream, a lofty faraway dream, that then turned to reality: you literally have been what dreams are made of.
Dear Argentina, this sweet slow dance that we’ve shared has only just begun.
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“Buenos Aires es un quilombo!”. This is one of the first “slang” phrases I learned when I got to the city. Buenos Aires is a mess! I real mess! [The literal translation of "quilombo" comes from Africa and means "an orgy of a mess"]. And after living here for 8 weeks, I can understand why Porteños will say this. It’s huge, it’s crowded, it’s polluted, it’s chaotic. And I love it! The madness and craziness of this place is what makes it so charming. It’s a mix of the old and new, the very poor and the very rich, of all things beautiful (design, language, the arts) and all things tragic (poverty, failed politics, corruption). It is REAL. It isn’t Parisian perfection nor Canadian cleanliness. It’s not Italy’s la dolce vita, nor is it the other-wordliness of ancient places like Marrakesh. It is here, it is now, it is raw. The economy is hurting (like everywhere else), people work hard for a living, there is crime and theft and a growing desperation and neediness, but somehow in the chaos, even in the mess of things, everything works out. In the last month there have been floods and subway strikes and citizen protests. Cabbies can scam you, the police may rob you, and beggars will always ask for more than you’re willing to give. It’s like any big metropolis.
But oh there are treasures to be found. Beautiful boutique shops on cobblestone laiden streets in Palermo. Sophisticated cafes in the “grown-up” neighbourhood of Las Cañitas. Ancient hidden coffee shops in Caballito. And breezy riverbank terraces in industrial Puerto Madero (pictures below). There are quiet bookstores and granny-kitchen eateries. And there are trees, trees, trees. Everywhere! They rain purple blossoms on the streets and provide an atmosphere of quiet simplicity to a city that has suffered its history’s changes and tragedies.
It’s easy to get caught up in the tourist traps of the place: the tours, the commercial tango lessons, the restaurants and shopping. It is world-renowed now as “the Paris of South America”. However, if you take the time to stroll, to smell, to let the atmosphere of the place engulf you, you will discover so much more than the souvenirs and the photo-ops and the great shoes. You will find a city rich in all things that matter: the love of family, the camaraderie of friends, and the space and time and importance behind a shared meal on a warm lazy night in a street-corner cafe. Good food, great conversation and an ease and peace that washes over you unlike at any other time before.
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I just got back from a one-week whirlwind trip to Buenos Aires. I hadn’t really planned this vacation but Mom had a business trip planned and she invited me along. The last time we traveled together was in February to Prague and that was only for two days. I really wanted to spend time with her so I decided to take the week off and head down to Latin America for the first time ever!
And I fell in love. With the gorgeous Italian-sounding Spanish. With the incredible fashion. With the nice people. With the Parisian feel of the architecture. With the amazing and affordable food. With basically all things Latin. My best friend Cynthia says that I must have been Latin in another life. I have such an affinity to the language, the music, the dances and the culture. I love how affectionate and open Latin people are. I’m fascinated by Latin beats like salsa and forro and nothing is more beautiful than the sound of Spanish sung or spoken. I am tongue tied and twisted just trying to learn it all. I decided then and there that I would move to BsAs for three months at some point in the next year so that I can really learn Spanish. I want to take the time to sit in cafes all day, meet locals, speak Spanish and just indulge in all the little projects I’ve been putting off for months. There is something inspiring about roaming a city for an entire week – with no agenda or itinerary. I just wandered the neighbourhoods for hours on end and in doing so, I realized how wide open space and time became. I was able to think creatively about new writing projects and indulged myself in the beauty of the architecture and the people. I didn’t think about work once and it felt so great! Vacations really should be that – real breaks from our obligations and a chance to unwind into our deepest passions and desires.
The city is amazing. It feels European but without the pretentiousness of the French (and that isn’t meant to offend any of my French friends). I met so many random people and could have easily stayed and had a circle of friends already in store. I met Jorge Schierano, a real estate tycoon who didn’t speak any English but somehow managed to ask me where I’m from, where I’m staying and if we could meet up later that evening. I feigned ignorance but gave him a sweet smile. I met Paulina, a sweet store clerk from Cuoio-Pagella who wrote out every possible shopping street that I could/should visit in the city. I met a cute waiter during dinner at Olsen – possibly the best food we had all trip – and learned some Spanish trying to converse with him (it was strange flirting with the cute boy in front of my mother and her co-workers but since none of us could really understand what was going on in Spanish, it seemed much less obvious!). I was also invited to Juan’s birthday party in January. He worked at Qara, which is now my new favourite shop in the whole wide world. The leather bags in this place are just immaculate – beautifully designed and showcased, and soft as a baby’s bottom. Just exquisite (and equally expensive)! Lucas and Willy, both colleagues of Mom’s, were just amazing hosts and I know that when the time comes for me to come back to BsAs, I will be so well taken cared of. Portenos/portenas are just like that – mellow, so congenial, hospitable and generous. It is a joy to be in their presence (to hear them speak!) and they really are the reason why I loved Argentina so much.
The window shopping is amazing. I tried on dozens of shoes at Comme Il Faut. It is the tiniest little boutique tango-shoe shop, all handmade in leather and fine suede. I felt like Carrie from SATC trying on these beautiful, dainty shoes in every possible shape and colour. I bought Mom a pair in gold and pink for her dancing bliss. =) The shoes in BsAs are just to die for! I bought the HIGHEST heels I’ve ever owned – grey leather platform peep toes five inches high! I have no idea when and where I’m going to wear them but the people at the shop did such a great job convincing me of how good they looked! I also got a pair of gorgeous equestrian boots – in the softest shiniest leather. The craftsmanship of the sole is top notch. They are so pretty that I’m afraid to wear them. Everything in BsAs is pretty. Pretty, pretty pretty. Wherein Paris is sophisticated and London professional, Buenos Aires fashion and merchandise is just plain beautiful!
Mom and I were also treated to a day trip to Iguazu Falls. DO NOT MISS THIS PLACE. If you have only a few days in BsAs and are toying with doing a day trip, go to Iguacu. It is amazing. It has the largest set of cataratas (English translation: waterfalls) in the world! It’s humid and jungle-like and just beautiful. Our guide, Ismael, was the best. He spent the whole day with us and was very patient in teaching me Spanish. =) He’s the son of Brazilian farmers, just got married at 24 years old, plays the guitar, sings in a band and has the manners of a true gentleman. Mom adored him. He was so wide-eyed and innocent, this Ismael! We plan on using him again to tour us around Brazil!!! During the trip, I saw a toucan and was nearly attacked by the world’s only poisonous bird! We also got a glimpse of the world’s largest rat (gross!). =) Just amazing!
Some of the other great things that we saw: Evita’s tomb at the Recoleta Cemetary, the Floralis Generica (“the flower”), the antique market in San Telmo, colourful La Boca and my favourite – Palermo (where all the gorgeous boutique shops are)! I also decided that I like salsa, samba and forro dancing more than I do tango but tango is really fun to watch when there are professionals involved! Oh, and we also ate the heart muscle of a cow! Yum! And the wine! Why haven’t I not mentioned the wine yet? Malbec is fabulous. We had wine every night and because we bought so much to bring back with us, Mom had to purchase an extra suitcase!
I’m sure I’ll have more great BsAs stories to tell. You’ll get a report sometime in the next 10-12 months saying I’ve moved there for a quarter to do absolutely nothing but learn beautiful Spanish, dance beautiful dances, meet beautiful people and eat amazing amazing food! Life is too short to be counting vacation days anyway!
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Hi there! I'm Denise. I share my name with Dionysia, the Greek god of wine, pleasure and joy. I'm a photographer, writer, marketer vagabond. I take photographs of enchanted places and the people seduced by them. This blog is an account of the wisdom, joy and grace that I've encountered along the way, and a place where I showcase some of my favourite photographs.
If you have similar stories to share, have questions about purchasing prints or just want to say hello, I'd love to hear from you!
