Buenos Aires, Argentina - Part I

I hear that Porteños like to self deprecate by saying they're living in the third world, which is absolutely not true. Yet: Buenos Aires is a large hectic city that circulates its population around its body heavily and conspicuously, exhaling a lot of exhaust in the process. Even in "good" neighborhoods garbage gets swept into a pile on the corner and after the trash collectors come there is still more trash on the corner than the worse corners of San Francisco. (In Argentina they still do it like Amsterdam and New York, where men ride on the back of trucks and jump off to grab bags and throw them in the dumpster apparatus, unlike California, where a mechanical arm picks up bins specially designed to fit the arm's hand--we could talk for a long time about what these variations in refuse collection mean for jobs and the culture, but I'll save that conversation for later.) Sidewalks commonly disintegrate into dog shit and sand, intersections don't have stop signs or stop lights, and automobile exhaust is absolutely asphyxiating.

View from my bus stop at Av. Sante Fe and Fray J. Sta. Maria de Oro as I started my 2 1/2 hour fiasco of getting on a bus to Zarate

Yet: The city has a so-so subway system but the best (and most overwhelming) bus system I've encountered. There are hundreds of bus lines (at newsstands you can pick up a thick spiral-bound tome to help you navigate, I hear), buses come every 5-10 minutes if not more often, they run 24 hours, and a ride only costs 1.25 pesos (equivalent to about a quarter) (yes that's subsidized). The bus system is privatized so a handful of companies operate the hundreds of lines. Buses barely slow down and open their back doors for those who wish to exit. Riders queue in an orderly fashion down the crowded sidewalks and stick out their arm to hail their bus. Drivers speed around corners and inches away from pedestrians on skinny busy roads.

This one's for Colin -- all hail discordia

As for other means of transport, there are probably more taxis in Buenos Aires than New York City, and of course Buenos Aires is home to what Porteños claim is the widest street in the world: Av. 9 de Julio (btw, Buenos Aires isn't the only city in South America that has what I consider a really weird habit of naming its streets after dates), which is their Independence Day. They literally bulldozed a wide city block to build this street, and in my experience it takes two cycles of red lights to cross it. They also have a street called 25 de Mayo, which is the day the war for independence started.

View down Av. 9 de Julio, of the Obelisco

I had two extremely unique experiences of Buenos Aires' circulation system: once I found myself by the Retiro Bus Terminal at rush hour as I was vaguely pulled towards the port from which my ship was originally supposed to leave. This, to be honest, reminded me of my most raw experiences with Mexican/Mexican-American parts of LA or SF or events like the Porterville swapmeet: an exhausting flow of people, trash, open fires, vendors toasting pastries and caramelizing peanuts, pedaling bootleg Nike socks, jewelry, paper products, travel equipment, and cell phone accessories while behind some building wall thousands of buses depart and arrive to/from destinations all over South America. The other, coming out of the last stop of the subway line C at Constitución, another large bus/train station on the South side of the city (yes, that kind of South side). That was similar to Retiro except I was part of the big exhale of people the subway let out, as we found our way up and out of one of the many exits, all the while beholding reclining swaddled bodies under every stairwell or nook in the station. The sheer amount of people and action exhausted me both times.

View from the balcony (6th floor) of my first apartment near Palermo, down Gallo

All this having been said, Buenos Aires had its moments of arresting beauty as well: the sun setting down the curve of Av del Libertador or reflecting off a row of Haussman-era French styled houses; a sunny Sunday in the local dog park; a quiet overcast Wednesday as they lay Evita's oldest sister to rest at Recoleta cemetery. Although, I am sure Buenos Aires is the most beautiful in Spring or Fall as its many tree lined streets become alive or start the colorful decline into winter.

Looking North West from Parque Lezama

Coming back from the MELBA

Parque Las Heras