domingo, 18 de marzo de 2012

llegado - arrived - angekommen



Eine Woche ist es erst her,  dass ich wieder in Deutschland bin.    Eine Woche,  in der ich schon wieder mein ganzes Leben auf den Kopf stelle.   Wer hätte gedacht,  dass nach Hause kommen,  so viel Wunderbares bringt und genau so spannend sein kann wie wegzugehen.   Mir ist ein Satz im Ohr, den mir mein Ex Mann Robert einmal mit auf den Weg gegeben hat - you have to leave to be able to return.  Damals dachte ich - so ein vollkommener Blödsinn,  kann auch nur ein Amerikaner sagen, ja damals dachte ich noch solche Gedanken 15 Jahre Altersunterschied machten sich eben doch bemerkbar auch wenn ich das mit Mitte 20 nicht einsehen wollte. Verstehen kann ich das erst heute richtig.  Wie Gardel in seinem wunderbaren Tango Volver formuliert - der Reisende,  der flieht,  wird eines Tages anhalten und bleiben.    Was hatte ich für eine Sorge,  was mir alles fehlen würde,  wenn ich meine Argentinier wieder verlasse,  mein Buenos Aires,   das ich ins Herz geschlossen habe - für immer.   Die wunderbaren Lehrer im Sprach- und Kulturzentrum VOS - vor allem Pancho,  unser Kursleiter ein Schriftsteller, den es gilt im Auge zu behalten,   Natan mein Tanzlehrer - ein Sonnenschein,   meine herzlichen Kollegen bei Telmark,  Mario den ewig schlecht gelaunten Portier,  Kristin,  die unendlich Begeisterte,  die ihren Traum lebt in Buenos Aires und mir auf dem Flohmarkt vollkommen süchtig nach allem was Tango ist Gardel Noten entriss.   Ich mache bald noch einen Eintrag mit Bildern von all den wunderbaren Menschen,  denen ich in Buenos Aires begegnet bin.  Doch heute bin ich hier.  In Fürth,  Bayern.

Südstadt Park - hier wohne ich vorübergehend.   5 Gehminuten von hier befindet sich die Tanzerei.
Es gibt Tango Argentino!  Ja in Fürth,  hier ums Eck!  Die Tänzer, Tänzerinnen und die Organisatoren sind herzlich und ich fühle mich sofort wohl.   Dabei war ich so nervös,  weil die Europäer in Buenos Aires erzählt hatten,  in Europa sei alles ganz anders und steif und verklemmt und geschlossen.   Kein bißchen.  Ach dann bist du "die Argentinierin"  von der uns der Barmann schon erzählt hat.  Ich muss lachen,  ja ich war am Nachmittag dort, um ein bisschen zu erforschen,  wie es wohl zugeht, auf einer Milonga in Deutschland.   Wie lustig ist das,  in Buenos Aires bin ich einfach los und habe keinen Gedanken verschwendet und kaum zu hause verhalte ich mich gleich wieder planerisch, kontrolliert deutsch.  Eine interessante Entdeckung.  Ich werde kurz begutachtet und sofort an den Tisch der Organisatoren Klaus und Claudia eingeladen sie habe etwas wunderbar Integrierendes - und das ist ebenso,  wenn man eine Leidenschaft teilt.   Und das alles in Franken!   Begeisterung.   Wie gut,  dass ich mutig genug war,  die roten Schuhe anzuziehen.

http://www.flabella.com

Mein letzter Kauf in Buenos Aires waren rote Flabella Tanzschuhe,  ich wollte mich eigentlich nur von Kristin verabschieden,   sie war noch Schuhe kaufen und so trafen wir uns in Suipacha bei Flabella.  Suipacha,  in der Strasse fing ich auch an am 11.Dezember 2011 an,  als ich noch in einem Hotelzimmer wohnte mit Blick auf eine Betonwand wie so oft in dieser Stadt.   Kristin war noch mitten in der Anprobe.
Eher um mir die Zeit zu vertreiben,  fragte ich nach 41.   Diese Größe ist in Buenos Aires nicht so einfach und so war ich völlig ohne Erwartung und dachte eher - was machst du eigentlich,  falls es welche gibt,  deine Koffer sind doch schon gepackt und ich wüßte nicht,  dass da noch Platz drin ist.   "Aber für Tangoschuhe ist doch immer Platz" grinste Kristin und ich dachte, Frau,  du wirst mir fehlen,  du und deine Begeisterung,  denn ich gehe zurück ins Land der unterdrückten Lebenslust.   Was denkst du da schimpfe ich mit mir selbst,  daheim hat sich auch viel getan und ausserdem wird es dort jetzt Frühling,  da geht es den Gemütern besser.   Que bien yo tengo suerte - tatsächlich gab es 2 einzelne Paare.  Wow,  2 gleich!   Ich blicke etwas neidisch auf die ca 10 Kartons rings um Kristin sie ist zierlich und hat ca 38. Nein leider kein plata (silber), beige (oh, nein danke!)  und rot (ah, ja, bitte).  Wie angegossen, die Sohle ein Traum für Ochos und Giros,  das merke ich selbst beim Üben auf dem alten Teppich.   Fast hätte ich sie nicht gekauft,  obwohl sie "nur" 390 Pesos waren, ich dachte,  wann willst du die schon anziehen....überall auf der Welt eben denke ich heute Abend während Claudia eine Tango Walzer Tanda - in fränkischem Akzent ansagt.

Ach wie schön,  wie in Buenos Aires,  mit Cortinas und Tandas es ist mir ganz vertraut.   Klaus fordert mich zum Tanzen auf und ich bin sehr nervös,   es legt sich etwas und ich weiss ich muss noch viel viel viel Tanzen,  um das gut zu können.   Wie wunderbar,  so wird er mir ganz lange bleiben,  der Tango.   Noch keine Woche schon die ersten netten Kontakte in die lokale Tanzszene.    Nach knapp zwei Stunden muss ich gehen,  meine Körper schimpft mit mir - ich bekomme schlecht Luft,  bin schlapp und da tanzt es sich nicht so gut.   Komm doch zum Tango Frühschoppen - morgen,  sagt Klaus.   Tango Frühschoppen!  Ach auch das gibt es und das alles in Fürth.   Mir hallen die Worten meiner klugen Mutter im Ohr,   das Leben ist immer und überall,  man muss nur raus gehen.   In 2 Wochen bin ich in Amsterdam auf einem Coaching Workshop und treffe die wunderbare Nancy Spicer zu unserem ersten Workshop Design als Co-Leaders.   Ahhhh.  Und fürs Abendprogramm -  die Milonga Szene in Amsterdam sieht sehr einladend aus.  Bailamos chicos y chicas!


So gehe ich heute morgen auch als Erstes raus,  auf dem Weg zum Bäcker stolpere ich über die Laufveranstaltung.  "Ich kann laufen so wie du und ich laufe auf dich zu" - so heißt es auf der Website der Veranstalterin Anita Kinle.  http://www.kinleanita.de/.   Klasse,  was die Frau und all die Ehrenamtlichen hier auf die Beine gestellt haben.    Ritter,  Schlümpfe,  Jongleure und Clowns,  Einzelne,  Staffeln der bunte Regenbogen an Lebensfreude läuft an der grünen Halle los - Menschen mit Down Syndrom stehen im Mittelpunkt.   Mir zuckt es in den Fingern.   Ich will hier was machen,  mitlaufen?  Ja - auch das und mit der fetten Erkältung geht da gar nichts.   Dann weiß ich, was mich juckt,  wie gerne würde ich rumlaufen und meine tausend Fragen stellen und sagen ich bin Journalistin und schreibe für.... überhaupt spüre ich,  da ist er wieder mein Kindheitstraum.   Vielleicht liegt es an der Umgebung denke ich und freu mich so sehr über diese Regungen.  Lebendig.


Hinschauen,   mit Hingabe beobachten so wie dieser Fotograf - Stimmungen auffangen und sie festhalten für die,  die nicht dabei sind.   Inspirieren und anregen,  einladen nachzudenken,  mit anderen Augen sehen,  dabei sein,  LEBEN - entwerfen,  entwickeln, Perspektiven aufzeigen - verändern.      Das ist meine Leidenschaft.   Und wieder die Kamera nicht dabei,   also hält das schöne neue weiße iphone her - mein altes macht ja offensichtlich einen Porteno glücklich. Ich fange diese wunder-baren Minuten ein,  bevor der Startschuss fällt,  die Samba Trommeln,  die die Läufer begleiten und den Gospel Chor der ihnen zu singt.   Beim Chor bleibe ich hängen.   "Wer sind die?" frage ich den Tontechniker,  das Lied geht mir ins Herz,  "he will raise you"  - Red'n'Blue  aus Sankt Martin.   Sankt Martin,  klar -  das ist ja meine Gemeinde.  Ich bin noch in der Kirche.   "Den lieben Gott, den gibt es nicht" der Satz und die schöne Stimme ist mir plötzlich im Ohr, das sagte kürzlich ein Arzt zu mir und es klang desillusioniert und ganz nüchtern.  Wir Deutschen halten Desillusion und Nüchternheit oft für wichtig, fast erstrebenswert.   Wir glauben, wir brauchen das,  damit wir zurecht kommen in diesem "so komplizierten und schwierigen Leben".   Oscar Wilde sagte ja "life is too important to be taken seriously",  den Satz mag ich und die Latinos sehen Reichtum und Möglichkeit in der Illusion.

La ilusión übersetzt sich ja dann auch mit "Freude" ins Deutsche.   Na ja und ignorance is bliss werden meine kritischeren Leser jetzt denken - ich weiß schon.   Die Nobelpreis gekrönten Literaten des südamerikanischen Kontinents spielen auf jeden Fall allesamt mit  "la ilusión" und haben so eine ganz neue Literaturrichtung begründet.  Und das mit dem lieben Gott -  mein Verstand weiß das nicht sicher, so oder so,  und auf den allein (den Verstand) ist aber nicht immer Verlass.   Im Herzen glaube ich ans Universum - felsenfest.   Dazu gibt es eine ganz wunderbare Geschichte,  die ich ein anderes Mal aufschreibe.    Sie ist vor zwei Wochen passiert,  spielt im Katalanien,  in einem kleinen Bergdorf in der Nähe von Sitges und hat mit dem 86-jährige Dorfpfarrer Vater Ramon und unserem gemeinsamen Singen zu tun.   Was für eine Begegnung.   Der Bogen zurück - Sankt Martin - ich muss lächeln,  dort habe ich konfirmiert.   Mein Blick wandert zur Musikschule Fürth,  ach genau, der Wellness Chor,  ob es den noch gibt? Da hab ich so gerne gesungen -  oh ja - dringend Joan und Christina anrufen jetzt wo ich wieder hier bin und fragen, was los ist in der Szene in Fürth.   Alles hier - was mir wichtig ist,  wie immer und überall,  denke ich.   Zur Zeit eben in der Südstadt - was war die schmuddelig - so weit weg vom Zentrum und abgegrenzt durch die Kasernen - das war mein Blickwinkel.   Früher,  als ich hier aufgewachsen und zur Kiderlinschule gegangen bin.  Heute empfinde ich sie als lebhaft und lebendig und voller Möglichkeiten, die Südstadt - und ich bin zuhause.
http://redn-blue.de/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=51&Itemid=61

sábado, 3 de marzo de 2012

Volver - to return - zurückkehren

As I am sitting in EZE Buenos Aires airport on time as you do not mess around with last minute adventures when travelling in Latin America I have time to look back on those last three amazing months I have been blessed to spend here.

My blog expresses really only a fraction of the experience I had.   Buenos Aires,  you either love it or hate it - I opted to love it.  The Art,  the Literature,  the Cafes,  Tango,  its people.  And also the madness living in the heart of it,  the poverty,  the decay,  the old splendor,  the new design, the range between unbearably wealthy and living in the street not knowing when next to eat poor.   The diversity and chaos of Buenos Aires the stillness and vastness of Patagonia.    Coastlines,  glacier landscapes,  sierras,  cultural capital - this country has it all and most of all the most unique mix of people I have encountered forming this nation.  

Volver - to return my favorite Tango of all times is in my head and heart.  You have to leave to return - people, your home and places you love and that become your 2nd 3rd new homes in this astonishing world.

A fellow passenger just tells me "you know el Perito Moreno is about to break this afternoon".   This is one of the most famous glaciers in Patagonia.  "I know" I hear myself say.   Not because I heard it on the news because this is where I just came back from and standing in front if this amazing flow of ice at the point where it separates the two arms of the Lago Argentino I could physically feel it - it is about to break as it does every so often.   It is a natural spectacle that leaves you humbled,  still and proud.   Patagonia is a wonderful place I can see my self returning to.



Returning - Volver Gardel wrote this marvelous Tango and I love to dance to it.   The lyrics touch my heart and my wonderful Tango teacher Natan helped me to translate the more poetic passages.
Here are the lyrics and the music.    Such a piece of Art.    English below.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I5JQ1m3mxKw


Yo adivino el parpadeo
de las luces que a lo lejos,
van marcando mi retorno... 
Son las mismas que alumbraron,
con sus palidos reflejos,
hondas horas de dolor.
Y aunque no quise el regreso,
siempre se vuelve al primer amor.
La quieta calle donde el eco dijo:
Tuya es su vida, tuyo es su querer,
bajo el burlon mirar de las estrellas
que con indiferencia hoy me ven volver...
Volver,
con la frente marchita,
las nieves del tiempo
platearon mi sien... 
Sentir... que es un soplo la vida,
que veinte anos no es nada, 
que febril la mirada
errante en la sombras 
te busca y te nombra. 
Vivir,
con el alma aferrada
a un dulce recuerdo,
que lloro otra vez... 
Tengo miedo del encuentro 
con el pasado que vuelve 
a enfrentarse con mi vida... 
Tengo miedo de las noches 
que, pobladas de recuerdos, 
encadenan mi sonar... 
Pero el viajero que huye 
tarde o temprano detiene su andar... 
Y aunque el olvido, que todo destruye, 
haya matado mi vieja ilusion, 
guardo escondida una esperanza humilde 
que es toda la fortuna de mi corazon.
Vivir... con el alma aferrada 
a un dulce recuerdo 
que lloro otra vez...


I imagine the flickering
of the lights that in the distance
will be marking my return. 
They're the same that lit,
with their pale reflections,
deep hours of pain 
And even though I didn't want to come back,
you always return to your first love
The tranquil street where the echo said
yours is her life, yours is her love,
under the mocking gaze of the stars
that, with indifference, today see me return. 
To return
with withered face,
the snows of time
have whitened my temples.
To feel... that life is a puff of wind,
that twenty years is nothing,
that the feverish look,
wandering in the shadow, 
looks for you and names you. 
To live...
with the soul clutched 
to a sweet memory 
that I cry once again
I am afraid of the encounter 
with the past that returns 
to confront my life
I am afraid of the nights 
that, filled with memories, 
shackle my dreams.
But the traveler that flees 
sooner or later stops his walking 
And although forgetfulness, which destroys all,
has killed my old dream, 
I keep concealed a humble hope 
that is my heart's whole fortune.
To live... with the soul clutched 
to a sweet memory 
that I cry once again


domingo, 26 de febrero de 2012

Delta Rio De La Plata y Tigre

http://www.viatigre.com.ar/tigre/como-llegar/


I took this short trip actually several weeks ago and Buenos Aires and my various interests kept me from keeping my blog up to date...  in the spur of  a moment this minitrip to San Isidro and Tigre was booked when I had decided time to expand my radius around the city - at that point the excitement of the new had started to fade and given way to a little tiredness of having to learn and find everything by myself from scratch every day.  So booking a tour with the lovely Ibeth from Los Amigos seemed a good way to lean back from all that discovery and pioneering on my own.  And while I was at it I got so inspired in the travel agency chatting with the chicas about their country that I also booked trip I am on now.   Iguazu and Calafate.  But back to Tigre for this entry.  Our bus driver is a woman - una chica verdadera - and I love the radio station she had tuned into so I copy the frequency - 72.08 to find it at home (and I did and it has become my favorite!) then I spot the obligatory Mate on the floor of the van.   Argentinian people will carry their thermos and mate around wherever they go and the containers they have for that are most elaborate.

The rituals and behaviors displayed by Mate drinkers are to me those of smokers,  clearly.   It is a sworn in community - a tribe.  Mate often is shared,  groups of people huddle together,  there are Mate gathering places dedicated to enjoy that brew,  you are either a person who drinks Mate or who does not - "occasional" Mate drinkers are as few and far between as are occasional smokers.   As for the accessories and blends - it starts with the Mate "cup".   Belly or somewhat tulip shaped are the most common ones naturally as that is the shape of the "pumpkin" or "squash" - calabash - they are typically made of.  They are always covered in leather with a metal rim and some prefer a glass container inside.   Depending on who you speak with - their Mate cup/shape/style of course is the best.   Then the straw - bombilla - it can come with a spiral or a strainer type ending - and it is clearly not be used as spoon.  NEVER stir - the bombilla is needed to get the liquid out of the brew and you will out yourself as the worst Gringo if you stir.   The Mate cup is filled with the Yerba.

The yerba plant, Ilex paraguariensis, is a shrub or small tree growing up to 15 meters tall. The leaves are evergreen, 7–11 cm long and 3–5.5 cm wide, with a serrated margin. The flowers are small, greenish-white, with four petals. The fruit is a red drupe 4–6 mm in diameter. The leaves are often called Spanishyerba or Portugueseerva, both of which mean "herb." They contain caffeine and related compounds and are harvested commercially. 

typical Argentine accessories 
The cut is very crude in Argentina,  very smooth and and almost powdery in Brasil and Uruguay.   Again a variety of mixtures to chose from and depending on your personal taste you will go for one type or the other.  The Yerba reaches up to the rim of the Mate cup - hot water is poured over it - you wonder how the water will fit .... well,  it does.   That is basically it - listo.  Share.  Enjoy.  For really hot days or whenever you feel like it - there is also the cold version with fruit juice/water mixture - it is called Tereré.  Most Mate Lovers will haul their accessories around like the gentlemen in the picture.   It feels very inconvenient to me and they do not seem to mind.  In his case he owns an elaborate leather bag that will fit the thermos with the hot water,  the Yerba container and the Mate cup perfectly.   Ex-Pats from Argentina in the world are known to spread the word once somebody finds a store that sells Yerba.   The news is twittered,  texted and posted so the Mate lover can quench his thirst also abroad.   Mate got me carried away - yes,  if you have not guessed by now - I am one of them.  

Back to what I wanted to blog on today.  My trip to Tigre - Tigre, some 30 minutes North of Buenos Aires named after indigenous puma if it makes sense.   This town sits at the banks of he second largest river delta in the world.  This phenomenon we find just outside of Buenos Aires.  Immediately I am reminded of the Mississippi Delta and this is a different dimension.   I cannot keep track of all the rivers that form the Delta as our sweet guide makes such a point of stressing which of them are polluted and which ones are not - I frown - look at him in disbelief - it is all one Delta and water system, no?  But I opt to listen,  be kind and not so German.

The bus ride takes us first into greater Buenos Aires - a concept worth writing about another day - through Los Olivos - this is where the presidential residence is - Christina calls this huge mansion her home it expands along serval blocks - helicopters with take off and landing areas included.   What the Porteños think about the cost of their President going to work by helicopter when it is a 30 min car ride I want to know from our Argentine tour guide.   I get the look.   Clearly "kirchnerista"  meaning supporter of the current government of Christina de Kirchner - like a lot of things in this country you are either vehemently for or vehemently against it.  "Well, the safety of our president needs to come first" is the answer I get.   And are you saying your president does not fly to work?   Mmmhhh,   not sure actually ours just changed for reasons I used to attribute more to Latin America than to good old Germany.   I refrain from speaking about some Green Party members who have been known to go to work on roller blades as with streets and pavements in the condition of Buenos Aires this concept would be difficult to follow.

http://www.artesanos-sanisidro.com.ar/home.html

We reach San Isidro.    The arts and crafts market pulls me in and doors open - I am having a conversation with Suzanne a marvelous local artist whose pieces invite me to stay  I spent at least half an hour deep diving with her about why certain colors are associated with directions and elements and how important a role animals have played in all indigenous  people.   In her art she plays joyfully with color, direction and animals and I admire her courage to create pieces that will combine 3 elements not 4.  I realize I have a strong sense or more desire of completeness of systems,   full circle and I have been irritated by gaps or spaces - a piece that combines water,  earth and fire speaks to me and luckily I find one that holds air.  Complete.  The colors she uses are all natural and extracted from plants.   The vibrance is strong and it is obvious that these pieces were designed with loving attention and dedication.   They could be presents I think as for the xth time I feel that sting when I become aware I do not have my own walls to hang all the art acquired over the years.  Then I relax - 2012 is the year to decide on where my base should be, just get on with it and immediately the perfect drawing for my friend Jordi in Barcelona shows up - it is called "Power"  and wants to be in his new home to remind him of his big shift in his empowerment as a leader.


I continue through the Arts Fair and stop by the obligatory and famous church left behind by the Spaniards only to find this bizarre perspective.
As I walk in they are just finishing the Sunday service with the Argentine version of the Lord's Prayer.   Wherever I travel I attend a Service,  one of my travel rituals I have started many years ago.
We arrive in Tigre.   It is packed.  No wonder the weather is fabulous and this is one of the most popular recreational areas just outside of BsAs.   The boat we were supposed to take is broken so they are looking for another one for us.   Argentina.   Things do break down more frequently than I have been used to - solutions are provided much faster and in a much more creative way than I have been used to.    Shade, shade,  please give me shade.   While waiting we learn about the different water sports people indulge in when living in the Delta.   Tigre is famous for its rowing club.


We finally board the substitute boat and enter a different world.   I can clearly see why many artists live here.   The peacefulness and quiet of the place is very attractive and as I watch one little river house after the other go by from my boat perspective I dream myself onto one of the many islands and into a summer spent in the Delta surrounded by lovely and interesting neighbors my days of writing and winding down intercepted by asada invitations and the occasional visitor.  How do you organise yourself I wonder - well,  the answer passes us to the left on the river - life is on boats.   Iceream boat,  Pizza boat,  Supermarket boat.   They have a school on an island but obviously a school boat to bring the kids.   Of course they need gas stations to refuel all the boats in the Delta,  there is a Church,  a movie theatre and other gathering spots you expect in any community.   Going to see someone for coffee or your neighbor to borrow a cup of sugar involves waterways here....

supermarket - supply boat in the Delta
 It is a small community only a couple of thousand people live here on a permanent basis.   For the rest these are their summer houses or weekend residences.   There is no such thing as building restrictions other than those of nature so you can see the all styles and sizes.   
gas station in the Delta 
Almost all of them have nicely kept grounds and gardens around them and that separate little gazebo right at the water where you keep your boat and were you sit to drink Mate, of course.  The color of the water comes from the river bed sediments.   It takes some getting used to other than that this is all VERY inviting.  Some homes are for rent.   I am dreaming - how long would the daily commute to Buenos Aires really be...

riverbank gazebo and boat slip - each house has one...


sábado, 4 de febrero de 2012

11 - El Once

As so often in this city I set out to Once for a very pragmatic reason.   After seven weeks in the limiting very same clothes - I am fed up - I have been fed up for a while and due to my new (shopping) principles - less is more -  but also the limited variety for a woman my height and size in Latin America buying new clothes has been a true challenge.

So I learn there is barrio Once which means 11 and curiously enough it is the 11th entry to my blog.
It is supposed to be THE place for fabric,  accessories and clothes shopping.  Exploring the map I learn that first of all - even if many would argue that - "Once" is not a barrio - the quarter is really Balvanera and Once has been defined to be the area between Avenida Callao, Av Belgrano, Av Cordoba and maybe Billinghurst for those of you who are familiar with Buenos Aires or who want to look at a map.

http://moda.infobae.com/guia-de-compras-del-barrio-de-once/



It has been named after the train station in its heart  "Once de Septiembre".  The name September 11 in this case goes back to 1852 when the city of Buenos Aires separated from the rest of Argentina.    From what I know this lasted about 10 years and I have to research history before I share more.   In the heart of Once we find also Plaza Miserere and strolling around it I think the area around train stations attracts somehow the same type of commerce and people all over the world.  Just like ports and harbors do.   And I do enjoy the colorful mix of nationalities from several continents and the professions from all "walks of life".

The range colliding here is expressed when a traditionally clothed Rabbie removes a whole bunch of "call me stickers" the many hookers in this area had just placed on the newsstands, lamppost and signage.   I remember what I read about modern slavery when I prepared for my stay in Argentina and that this is a reality larger in numbers than ever not only in Argentina.   And we are in 2012.  When I first heard about human trafficking and modern slavery I was shocked and became aware of my urge to know more and write about this just as the era of the Missing - the Disappeared and for both topics so Argentine I feel it is still too soon.   For today on the lighter and inspirational side my latest discovery in BsAs.

Again I can walk there ... some of the recommendations say to start at Plaza Miserere so I follow that and I am catapulted into the depth of what first seems the deeply Latin part of Buenos Aires.  Street vendors will sell you any good you can imagine - from beautiful Peruvian handcraft (you have to look though) to super cheap mass produced "who needs it" articles made in China offered mainly by Asians or Black people .  In between a family from Ecuador will steam mussels basically operating "a kitchen" on the floor.   I was chicken and did not try.  Or smart and stayed healthy. Who knows.

What makes this Argentine apart from Mate and Yerba everywhere is the sheer abundance of patterns in the fabrics  - patterns that I cannot describe as they do not resemble anything I know - you might find floral with polka dots or tribal with floral and color combinations I did not know could work together.  So I spot something and it attracts me and as I look closer it confuses me as it blends and does not seem to blend at the same time.   An odd sensation of "slightly offness" - off what I think and I am reminded of integrating the seemingly contradicting.   Maybe it is the current state or degree of Argentina national identification that is reflected in their patterns.

It had rained again,  the sun is intense and stingy the air hot and humid,  I can feel that invisible film on my skin and teeth that I make it up to be black and tarry and I crave a bottle of cool water and a shower yet the place of course draws me in and I cannot resist to explore more which at the end of the day will have turned out to be 5 hours spent in Once.  Incredible how much I love getting lost in BsAs.  Europe is suffering from a cold wave I saw on the news.   I try to think of the sound that your boots make when crushing new snow to cool myself at least mentally.

The sounds,  energy,  smells are all that of a developing country here and for the first time in this city I have to really look to detect the elsewhere abundant traces of that Bohemian European charme that you encounter in other barrios of Buenos Aires.  This is a completely new face to it.   What I also detect in Once is the  Jewish community.   Quite a few Rabbis in the street and that is a new observation for me amongst the oval shaped faces native faces of Peru with their beautiful almond eyes,  the Corean white skinned people and for the first time an awareness of darker or black people.   Then I find some synagogues and in speaking with people I learn hat Argentina has the 5th largest Jewish community in the world - many Jews have moved away from Once though due to a car bomb aimed at the AIMA (Associacion Mutal Israelita y Argentina)  that left 86 killed and 300 injured - thank you to Marta who clarified what started the shift in demographics in Once.    Diversity - it makes quarters vibrant,  cities vibrant most famous for it New York,  London and to me Buenos Aires and though nature's child at heart this is why I tolerate the harshness of living in big cities from time to time to fill up on it.

Vibrance.  Now that my gaze has become accustomed to everything that is immediately to the left and right of me and I resist the captivating energy of all of that and discover second and third row and my perception widens even though it is still warm skin caressing skin crowded.   Aha - there are indeed those shops more holes in the wall where I am now - full of clothes and fabric.   There is so much also in the next levels - I have a challenge trying to take it in and I feel like standing still to really look yet the moving energy of the river of people I am in will not allow that - so I go with the flow.  Retailers will shop here as well as Porteños,  visitors and tourists.    I enter one of the accessory stores on my never ending quest for "my abanico" (fan/Fächer) this I desperately need to cool me down during the dance breaks at the Milongas.  Sticking to my new principles of not just any the search has taken some time now  "¿Hola que tal - un beso - se vende abanicos?"

In one of theses stores that would mainly be frequented by women I meet Jorge.   Jorge is on the lookout for a gift for one of his various girlfriends as I learn later.  He must be in his mid 60ies and to my surprise I find him charming as hell.   What ever he has left that resembles hair on his head is long and was dyed in a mix between orange and blond,  I would not call him attractive or handsome yet he has a warmth about him that makes me listen as he stops me in one of the aisles with the sentence "And the stars do love me otherwise they would not have sent you angelic creature my way"  I cannot help but smile "The day will be great from this moment on" he continues and I keep checking my vocabulary in my head to make sure I hear correctly and understand the Castellano and what this Porteño is saying to me.   Before I know it he grabs my hand and we connect on a different level - it feels as if he looks straight into me - his eyes are amber and welcoming completely without that feared greed and then he speaks about purity and authentic power he apparently sees in me.  I take it in - I am not surprised - this type of encounter and conversation is in daily order here.

And he would be honored if I had dinner with him tonight,  of course.  Only if we tango afterwards I hear myself say - generously giving him a warm heartfelt smile as we both know this is about this moment and highly unlikely to happen and the moment and the sheer sweetness and thought of possibility is too entertaining not to be in it and so I play along.   I already have it down the Argentine way of softening and sweetening life coquetando in this very special way that seems to be a mix of Italian,  French,  Spanish,  Jewish and Latin and something undefinable - a way of connecting whenever possible.  Argentine.  Cariñoso.  Why I love being here.

Gracefully do I accept Jorges phone number and promise "to think about calling" him.   Then I imagine this scene at home and wonder what I can do to bring some of the magic with me to my cool   heady nation and people.  And all is well as I know I do not have to do anything I will just bring it with me.  Then here it comes again that pang of clear knowing and awareness - not before long I will be back.    I have a sense of sweet sadness - I have barely arrived and I already know Buenos Aires is not a place I will turn my back to very easily like London where I could not wait to leave or San Diego where I felt tired of the same same same.   I have lived in many places around the world and Buenos Aires I will carry in my heart and soul and the Tango in every cell of my body - forever.

Christian at Meir&Group todas las telas para la moda, el teatro e el espectaculo
So I venture back to Pueyrredon and Lavalle and I am taken back to my childhood in an instant.
Coming from a family where women designed and made their own clothes or sold fabric and clothes for a living -  like my grandmother these sights are all too familiar.  Stores upon stores of the most colorful "telas" fabric and everything else you need for design.  "Entra por favor" says Christian and drags me into one of the shops.   Its clothes designer wonderland.  Buttons, zippers,  adornments,  feathers,  pearls. I think of my Mum and Grammy and my original family I was born into and how all of this has always been around me and what a treasure I used to have at my fingertips never fully appreciating it right then and there in front of my nose.

And in this moment I make a decision - I will design and make at least some my own clothes from now on as I used to in younger years.   My heart starts beating I am really excited about this and then I feel inspired to create a line of Tango Wear - as there is clearly a lack of beautiful Tango wear especially for the younger generation - lucky for all of us there is a growing community of dancers - there has to be a demand and with my contacts to artists and designers.... I already have this network and it fits into my CTI leadership quest as one piece in the "Return to our Senses series" and and and ... what an inspiring place.

I find myself on Calle Paso in the 500 block and my body calms down,  fewer people,  less noise, different world.   Finally here they are some of the designer stores and the evidence why Buenos Aires is so deserving of that Design Award they won in 2010.  I browse a little encounter the same challenge as always - too short - too small.   I finally make a purchase.  A skirt,  cheerful, very colorful - thinking of my sister and her comment "is really all you wear black or white?"  when she opened my closet in London - basically yes if I can help it.  My skirt is super light,  cotton,  perfect for this heat and any garden party in Europe - after paying I look closer at the label - designed in Argentina it says and also - made in India.   I should have looked first.   Like the shrimps they catch along the Coast of Denmark which are then shipped to Algeria to be peeled only to be shipped again to be eaten at a German dinner table - or the fact that we import apples in winter from LatAm as this is cheaper than storage cost for home grown apples - brave new globalized world I think and how can all this everything everywhere at anytime available (but not for all of us) possibly be sustained or is it simply the manifestation of everybody's dreams and longing?

Abanico:  Un abanico es un instrumento y un complemento de moda que fue inventado y fabricado para que de forma manual pudiese mover aire y facilitar la refrigeración cuando se está en un ambiente caluroso, principalmente si es un local cerrado donde no haya corriente natural de aire.

As I walk back from Once to my place I think of completing the work that is overdue for Leadership in March and how rich an experience and inspiration this excursion to Once has been for me.   Having let go completely of the abanico search - it comes my way.   In corner of my eye I spot "my abanico" it sits waiting for me in the window display of a pharmacy and seems to be their decoration.  I walk in and ask if they would sell it to me - claro que si - no problem and for less than 5 Euros it is mine.  "It will come to you" is the title of one of my favorite poems by Honora Spicer.   I leave the store moved - again: Argentina continues to bring out my tears this time around - tears of joy.  Buenos Aries "my heartplace city" - where it has been easy for me to bring all my pieces together.   Quite a few pieces I have now clearly let go,  only deliberately chosen ones are new,   I left room for what needs to still arrive into my life and will keep that space,   some pieces have always been with me and some are coming back.  Or am I returning to them?  Which brings me to "Volver" (to return) but that has been so rich an experience and is still cooking inside of me that "Volver" will have an entry of its own... soon... very soon.





domingo, 22 de enero de 2012

Buenos Aires, lenguaje, letras y libro



.....how could I possibly not have known this before I arrived?   In 2011 Buenos Aires was rewarded the book capital award - capital munidal del libro - by the UNESCO and living here it is really hard not to see why.   Bookstores of all kinds at each corner,  lists and lists of literary cafes.    In the foto you can see the one where I bought El Aleph by Jorge Luis Borges - one of the most important Argentine writers, essayists and poets born in Buenos Aires - yes in Spanish as I like to challenge myself.  (really?) His work is a an amazing mixture of tale and dreamlike fantasy and no I have not progressed very much with this book as its layers are deep and my Spanish not yet.  Today in class at VOS the cultural center here in Buenos Aires I learnt that this style is called Realismo Magico - it is extremely important to LatAm because it is the first literary style that was created here and that is being exported quite successfully while in the past all other styles were imported from Europe.   I am proud to announce that I made it through my first tale ba Julio Cortaza equally important as Borges.
"No se culpe a nadie".   I really wanted to give up - this was very challenging to read in Spanish but Pancho our teacher and my classmates would not let me.

my favorite bookstore
at the Cafe Tortoni 
The most famous among the many many literary cafes in Buenos Aires is of course El Tortoni 
http://www.cafetortoni.com.ar/
another time machine you can step into in this city.   So many places to still go and explore,  to have coffee and read or write or just feeling inspired in this special energy.  My favorite bookshop it is 15 steps away from my apartment it never fails to amaze me how they find anything in there within seconds of my asking.    I always think of my Mum when I am inside...  Incredibly also I discovered only a few weeks ago I live near he National Library which is heaven inside and such an interesting building historically as it was the residence for some "governments" in Buenos Aires at some point.   http://www.bn.gov.ar/faq.    

And then I made the newspaper.   A little over a month in the country and I am being interviewed while in class at VOS on Lunfardo of course,  a sort of dialect or secret language of the Tango.   So when I came to the office on Monday Maria Gabriela says - estas en el diario!! - you made the newspaper - of course this is not just any newspaper La Nacion is what you read in BsAs when you take pride in your education - so here is the article in La Nacion.   (More on the war between the government and media another time - winds of change here) Mind you I am not that anxious to learn Lunfardo as they cite me quite liberally - as this feels like another deep world of complexity I could easily get lost in....so Tango has its own language.  Of course here is my link between my love for dancing and my love for words.  Of course Tango has its own words.   So this week I need to buy yet another dictionary and yes I am learning a fifth language - Lunfardo.  Jose Maria the CFO of Telmark spoke to me about this language when we first met and since our discussion was in Spanish I thought maybe I misunderstood - no, no Tango has its own language.  Claro.

My bario has one more particularity I want to mention and that is I live in medical headquarters.   This is somewhat puzzling to me - at first I only noticed the dermatologists who seem to reside on the Recoleta side of Avenida Santa Fe - walking to my Tango Studio however I discovered really via the bookstores that Dentists cluster on the other side of Ave Santa Fe only to find all major hospitals and university faculties only steps from my home.    So the energy of the healing profession has been all around me.  Another little fact that is curious - Buenos Aires has more shrinks than New York and I am not a bit surprised by that fact either.   Bario Freud - this is also what some have  called  my neighborhood.   I cannot help but smile at the sheer concentration of all that is important and available to me at this stage in my life.  So is this true - it is always all there in abundance and we just notice it more clearly as we heighten our awareness?  Buenos Aires is just what the doctor ordered for me - books,  writers,  journalism,  a potential and people connecting job.   I live in this enormously interesting city,  in summer, light and sun without end, Tango,  calm attitude,  peace of mind,  courage curiosity AND time to indulge in it all.   Any doctor would be pleased with the progress I have been making here.

Buenos Aires - where else would I want to be writing a book....

Comme Il Faut

Just in case you did not know (like me) this is the place for THE most beautiful Tango shoes in Buenos Aires.    So 4 lessons and a handful of Milongas - some of them just sitting and watching - into this amazing world of Tango, Kristin,  passionate and gifted Tanguera from Bergen,  Norway who arrived here a week ago invites me to come along to this magic shoe place.

http://www.commeilfaut.com.ar/historia.php

The salon is in Recoleta.  A first hint.
You go into a backyard that looks like a part of Paris.  The second hint.
It takes attention to find the entry and sign.   Third hint.
You ring the bell and are greeted with attitude and a raised eyebrow.   Si?
By now you get the picture - this is serious Tango shoe business and not just for anybody.   Pero no.

Shoes are nowhere in sight but several sofas and mirrors.   We are being sat on one of the posh sofas with the speed of light - not a second to breathe or take in the salon.  Immediately being asked for color, style and material desired.   Out come boxes upon boxes of the most exquisite,  elegant,  extravagant, shiny,  sexy, seductive, feminine Tango shoes.  No doubt this is THE SHOE PLACE.
I am reminded of the scene in Pretty Woman where the gorgeous Julia Roberts shops on Rodeo Drive (the shop where Richard Gere and his credit cards come along only that in our case Richard could unfortunately not make it)  It has some 40 degrees outside -  health warning is still orange - our feet are huge as they are swollen from the humidity all the walking the shop manager rolls her eyes slightly how can you come so late in the day we are about to close and it is imposible to try shoes in this weather "my Darling" - and we just have to try on these shoes....

A pair of black, white striped, signature tango shoes with a golden heel call my name - very high - and  they do not fit 100%.   My spine is screaming when I walk in them - yet dancing and walking in heels are two different kettle of fish.  The design is stunning.   Impossible to wear for me now as this pair signals every serious dancer:  experienced, self confident bailarina.  Well, not quite yet.  Of course it is possible to have them tailor made and fitted exactly to my feet ... I have a week to think before I go back to Comme Il Faut.   The shoes change weekly - Saturdays.  The salon is in walking distance of my place.  What great practicing ground for my newly designed principles around making all choices in my life from a new level of consciousness.  VERY tempting.  VERY good.

Of course it is strictly forbidden to take pictures inside of Comme Il Faut.  Of course I took one and kept it.   Kristin is in a world of her own.   The amount of information she spills out onto the salon floor around soles, suede pads,  extra padding,  additional holes in the straps, shapes, widening,  enhancing legs, steps,  heels blending into the dance floor,  color matching skintones, outfits,  what type of Tango and Milonga requires what type of shoe -  it feels like an explosion - she clearly is in her element.   Beautiful to watch her joy over the perfect pair she finds.   

I find myself  happy just to share the experience and this feeling of complete certainty.  No.  Not my pair today. Completely holding my own even in ever luring shoe paradise.  Freedom.  Joy. 


Kristin in love....
yes - very very very hot.....


After Comme If Faut we head out to Palermo to pay a visit to Greta Flora - what a different experience - they have maybe 3 pairs my size - and the style is very different to CIF.   We discover the clip on flowers - great idea - you turn a basic black Tango learning shoe into a fun expressive one by clipping on leather flowers - perfect.  Immediately makes every shoe look like a Greta Flora design.  Clever.  I get a pair of clip ons - in Tango red - of course.  Kristin explains that really serious and good dancers often wear the most worn shoes - you can tell by the location of the traces of wear and tear if the shoes belong to a good dancer.   So of course I have to examine this and - indeed apparently I keep my ankles close together quite nicely - clear wear and tear in the right spot!

Actually this light hearted fun experience I so needed after a horrible night in Palermo at the Club Villa Malcom experiencing true embarrassment on the dance floor on Friday.   What did I do that after two really nicely danced,  intuitively managed Tangos (oh that works well he says) ouf of the blue my partner feels he now he will  turn into a teacher and needs to explain things to me.   Why? What signals did I send to elicit that from him?   I did not ask for this.   No thank you - I do have a very good and lovely teacher whom I trust - I am here to enjoy myself.   Of course now the magic is gone I am out of my body and into my head.   Now it feels heavy instead of light.  To top it all he now says - all the Germans do have problem with being too much in their head - where he is from is unclear - he most certainly is not Argentine I notice I do not care enough to ask.

I can feel my irritation turning into intolerance with my next partner and I decide to focus all my energy on this is the last dance with this partner.   Cortina.  (musical break between two tandas or rounds of Tango) Thank you universe.   The bad breath (garlic and onion) offends me - why not use a mint if you know you will be physically so close to somebody and I am thinking of what I can say in a self honoring non offending way next time I run into the phenomenon of bad breath in Tango.   Then I decide this was the first and last experience of that kind.   That should do it.   The next partner clearly has no feeling for rhythm and music.  Worse than lecturing and smell.   Way worse for me.   True - so true I only have few steps in comparison to what is out there in Tango AND my body cringes when music and movement are disconnected so completely.   And no this was not a style.  My body cannot tolerate it.  So - all this is also out there in the Tango world.  It certainly clarified what I will not tolerate.   So I embrace it as sharpening my focus on whom to pick to dance with.  Good.

Still it took me a while to work through this I felt quite frustrated and thought maybe I just do not go  to Milongas for a while.   The good dancers will not ask me and I cannot expect them to really as they are there to have a great dancing experience on their own level themselves.   Dancing with beginners I am afraid I will pick up dancing that will be very hard to correct later on.   So,  how does one progress then - I know I want the miles under my soles to improve.   More classes as long as I still live in the cradle of Tango and Practicas and doing the homework.   Good plan.   No more Milonga until I have more technique - but then it is not about technique only... and Milongas can be so much fun and I can learn from watching and just absorbing it and ....

So I am back at the Pavilion in Glorieta at the Milonga on Saturday night I cannot help it.   And in Kristin I have a new friend who is a Tango crazy so of course we go.  For a while I keep my flip flops on to signal "no dancing with this chica tonight"  there are some who would even dance barefoot so I am asked anyway.  The shoes are not always a clear sign.  A very strong looking man in his forties invites me to dance and I sense ok he is the right one to get back on the floor - I put on my shoes in the speed of light and off we go.  Its ok.

I ask the universe to dance with empowered, experienced and sweet partners and I get asked by 5 different dancers I am not choosing yet.  This is the next level of learning.   So I go in with the intention to simply surrender and enjoy the perfect summer night and all the Tango has to offer and tonight I just want to be held for a while and this feels so lovely - I assume my partners will make me look beautiful according do where I am on my skill level and most of them do and this works well.   I am just happy.  As we are also close to the bario chino there is a Chinese fair and all sorts of distraction around the Pavilion tonight - while dancing I do not even notice it.   Cuando bailas,  bailas.   When you dance you dance.

Then Emilio asks me to dance.  At first I am taken aback - a challenge - Emilio must be in his 70s his face tells so many stories - bright, alert eyes smile at me knowingly - the surprise comes when he holds me in a very close embrace as his energy feels like that of a very young man.   He loves the Tango clearly - then I sense his tremor - he has Parkinsons his hand moves uncontrollably along my back.

I am aware of my insecurity - how do I read his lead with this hand shaking so much I will not know what he wants me to dance.  What to do with this?  My back however stays really soft and somehow I do not mind this on a physical level.   I am surprised.  Then I breathe and remember all I know in my heart and just ease into the dance - it moves me emotionally - the sheer humanness of this moment and I tear up a little inspired by this man's humble courage.

All the shiny shoes and the fun glitz and glamour of the morning fade out at the other side of the Tango rainbow compared to this experience.   Tu pasas muy lindo con la musica he says and indeed Emilio and I dance a whole tanda together and he is the best dancing partner I have all night.   Que maravilloso.  Be courageous and open,  lean in to the unknown trusting it will be just fine and exactly what is needed in each moment while I hold my own, eyes closed, and we just dance and enjoy ourselves.   Ah - back in Tango heaven.   Of course,  I might have those shoes fitted at Comme Il Faut next Saturday.  And why not.  It is about range.

Kristin and I chill and chat for a while after the Milonga and it finally starts to rain.   I am completely happy and filled up when I get out of the taxi in Avenida Santa Fe and there she is - teenage Mum,  deep black rings under her eyes,  carrying her baby through the rain,  the bare feet black with dirt,  begging - when I spot her she runs after two men almost screaming at them to please help her.   I have a challenging time managing my cringing body and heart as I witness her in her despair.  I hand her what I have left which tonight is a not even the equivalent of a Euro and receive the sweetest blessing for happiness in my life in Spanish.

Argentina keeps moving me to tears in exactly those moments when I feel I could not be happier.
I ponder a little on arcs,  this day and at what point happiness and sadness meet and what the quality of that space has brought to me lately.



lunes, 9 de enero de 2012

on dedicating time to what I love doing .....

I am back at school.

http://www.vosbuenosaires.com/es/contacto/

At VOS language school and cultural center for the Spanish language - and "vos" is of course the lovely way Argentine people address each other.   The school was recommended to me by a friend of a friend ..... gracias a Pedro Rubio y Roxane!!!  These days I just love asking for help and following recommendations it has never ever failed me - it leads me exactly to where I need to be in my life.
And so of course the lady who runs the school Magdalena happes to be very good friends with Mercedes who  works for  Alejandrina the Director of the Telefonica Foundation in Buenos Aires.  Connecting people - it is a Latin way of being.  I love it.  Me encanta. Perfecto.

So as planned two years ago,  I made it my reality -  the next couple of years in my life would be dedicated to exploring what I always wanted to explore and expand and learn - leaving behind tactical and strategic planning and thinking - just following my heart.  No more will this be good for my career,  is this pragmatic etc - no - I dedicated these years to joyfully learn what I always wanted to learn.  Explore my desire to engage deeply with people via Coaching,  (re)discover Contemporary Art,  explore my deep love for creative writing, speak a third language fluently ideally Spanish,  learn to dance the Tango and yes - live in a Latin country for a while.

I get to combine it all and one area benefits from the other while I work 3 days a week for this incredible company Telefonica in a setting where I can apply all of my skills and all I learn now,  deepening our relationship with our Buenos Aires based partner Telmark.   Really looking back on what I envisioned 2012 to be I could not be happier with the arrangement.  It has been so much joy and learning working with the Argentine colleagues here and as I learn more about this country and nation their history, my admiration keeps growing.   In my generation in most European countries - we do not know what crisis means.   My generation and the ones following can learn from this mentality here and as I wrote in an earlier entry,   the level of maturity of the next generation is astonishing.  Most Argentines carry a European and an Argentine passport and there has been a new awareness in younger people - some now for the first time consciously opt to be Argentine.  

At VOS I get to learn with an international group of people and it goes way beyond the language of course -  the topics we discuss are wide spread.  I love the change of perspectives and looking at the world through the eyes of my Brazilian fellow student or my Argentine teacher.   The first movie  watched during movie night they put on optionally after class was Esperando en Mesisas  by Daniel Burman starring Daniel Hendler an Argentine movie that captures the years of the economic crisis perfectly.

Who would have thought that 10 years later Spaniards would come to Argentina to work,  when in 2001 a whole wave of Argentinians moved to Spain fleeing the dire situation in their own country.  Just a decade and things have been reversed.   An amazing turnaround.   Now 46% of young people are unemployed in Spain - I have no idea of how many that might be in Greece.   The new lost generations.   The Brazilian girl explains to me she will be a lawyer and she studies in Sao Paulo and in order to be admitted to the exams she will have to be fluent in 3 (!) languages this is not counting her native tongue Portugese.   I look at her in amazement what a powerhouse she and so many in her generation will be. This continent equals potential.   I truly enjoyed Esperando en Mesias - have a look....


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KiHjMQ_0qCw



In class we started with a rather tough subject - Argentina 1975 - 1983 - "el proceso de la reorganizacion nacional" - really a military Junta took over like in so many Latin American countries at the time. I doubt it is really clear how many people the nation lost then.

Each Thursday in front of la Casa Rosada,  the City Hall on the Plaza de Mayo you can still speak with the abuelas (grandmothers) who gather there to demonstrate - they are wearing white headbands reminding the world of that period.   Pancho our teacher distributed this essay about this topic - the essay is meant to test our level of comprehension -  I did quite ok language wise and not so well emotionally - after reading the essay I had tears in my eyes it touched me and of course recalled current experiences in my life that happened over the last two years.  A reoccurring theme so close to me these days - people whom I love dying or dropping out of my life without a trace.

I know of a piece of Photography Art by an Argentine photograher Gustavo Germano collected family pictures of various families who lost members during this period in time - he then took pictures in the present at the same place with the same background displaying the remaining family members only.
When I had first read it it was engrained in my memory immediately - it is a very moving piece so brutally showing the gap left behind by a lost human life and it is strangely healing at the same time to see it so clearly.

http://www.zeit.de/wissen/2010-08/fs-verschwunden-2


Ending for today on a lighter note.  Dear reader of my blog - for you to get the full picture.   Today we had some 40 degrees and it has been super humid.   I try to breathe so slowly that the hot air will not hurt inside of my nose so much.   Even the locals faint and I have now definitely run out of ways to cool me down so I am just hot.   Period.   Hot.  Somewhere I read the Mate would help .... well it is an acquired taste... It just started raining finally - now I am experiencing my first thunder storm in Buenos Aires and it feels heavenly.