Don't cry for me

I think the reason I like to travel so much is the challenge. Even the most mundane things test your skill and resolve. We had to take a bus into to town today, which would be a simple task back home; however, it is never that easy in a foreign country. We made it onto the bus, but I'm still not convinced it was the one we were supposed to use. Regardless, it got us to our destination. It was a 30 minute trip into Buenos Aires that was not short on entertainment. As we enjoyed Olivia Newton John's Xanadu on the radio, we took in the scenery and the passengers. Kim was infatuated with the guy sitting next to her. It wasn't that he was a dead ringer for the lead singer of AC/DC, but it was the chest length comb-over that had her hooked. I elbowed her several times, trying to interrupt her stare, but it was something to behold.

I thought the woman at the hotel said there would be a tourist information center at the bus station but maybe I misunderstood. Kim seemed a little agitated when we exited the bus station, and I had no idea where to go. "Didn't you bring the map?" she asked. Of course I hadn't, I thought I'd get one there. Her sense of adventure isn't quite as developed as mine, so she found no humor in our predicament. Not to mention that we were standing in the middle of the widest boulevard in the world, Avenida 9 de Julio. That's a lot of traffic. Thankfully, I can read the Spanish here (because whatever they speak is not Español) and found a building that housed a tourist bookstore. They happily gave us a map, and we were on our way.

We visited the Plaza de Mayo, where Evita made her speech. The area is smaller, but reminds me of the mall in DC. Crowds have gathered here in good times and bad; it is rich with a history of protest, celebration, and violence. We ducked into the Metropolitan Cathedral, which is a beautiful structure built in 1822. It is an opulent church, which houses the remains of the "Liberator of Argentina," San Martin. Oddly, soldiers stand at his tomb, which seems out of place for a structure so full of grace.

We visited the Bicentennial Museum to the east of the Plaza. It is underground in the uncovered ruins of an old structure. The original bricks mark off different sections of Argentina's history from 1810 to 2010, their bicentennial year. They have many trinkets and relics from each period, accompanied by a short video piece on each era.

From the museum, we headed to Florida Street, a pedestrian shopping area. It was getting hot and we had been on or feet for most of the day, so we stepped into a department store to cool down. There is something weird about finding a display of Christmas items, as you are seeking solace from the heat outside. I forget that not everyone has a white Christmas.

Our successful bus ride back was the result of the kindness of strangers. My bumbling Spanish must have alerted the guy selling me the bus ticket that I probably wasn't going to get in the right line. He happily left his station to walk Kim and I to the exact spot where we would board the bus. Once we got on, we confirmed a couple times, "Barrio Uno, correcto?" Yes, the driver assured us that he was going to Barrio Uno, our stop. What we didn't realize is that the stop to get off the bus was not very close to where we had gotten on to the bus. Lucky for us, a very handsome young man nudged Kim and let her know that Barrio Uno was coming up. He and his girlfriend were getting off there, as well. When we stepped off the bus, neither of us recognized our surroundings. Our eyes must have been large, as we realized we had no idea what direction to go. Mr. Handsome asked if we needed help, and he and his girlfriend walked us all the way back to the B&B. And that's the other reason I love to travel; the spontaneous acts of kindness and the tender connection of humanity that is not divided by government or religion or status.Read more