Floating families

“The truth is that a lost empire, lost power and lost wealth provide perfect circumstances for living happily and contentedly in our enchanted island.”

 Malcolm Muggeridge

On Lake Titicaca there is a flotilla of floating reed islands which are home to the Uros people.  Speaking Aymara, this civilization is even older than the Incas. The idea of the floating islands came about to avoid a grizzly encounter with aggressive neighbors.  In times of threat the group could pull up their island's anchor and move on.  The way of life for these people centers around the totora reed.  It provides shelter, transport, food, medicine, fuel and of course the very ground they walk on.

“Summer isles of Eden, lying in dark purple spheres of sea.” 

Lord Alfred Tennyson

Waking early to see the pink dawn spread over the Lake, we headed off to join the floating families for a morning of obligatory tourism time.  After 72 hours of acclimatizing, I have to admit my brand new addiction to the coca tea was not really having much affect.  I was starting to feel like I actually had a screwdriver sticking out of the top of my head.  Seeing I was responsible for this latest high altitude malarky it hardly seemed fair to complain.  Maybe I should just move on to coca sweets and stop feeling sorry for myself.

"Sometimes I go about pitying myself

And all the while I am being carried across the sky

By beautiful clouds."

Ojibway Indian Poem

The tour guide picked us up from the hotel and drove us to Puno's main jetty where we boarded our vessel by walking over all the other boats tied off together.  The last boat was ours we were greeted by the unsurprising sounds of the guitar and pan pipes of a one man band.  The English speaking guide explained that we would travel out past the bank of reeds and visit with one of the floating families.  While we putted along enjoying the scenery of Puno scattered along the lake edge he described how over 2000 people belong to the Uros community. Family groupings vary in number, and therefore, so does the size of their island.  On the larger islands there is a floating school, church, store and hospital servicing the families.  As the chill of the morning air started to lift, I began to feel the effects of the sun and my closeness to it.  It made me wonder about the harsh elements these folks must endure year round, living on the damp coldness of the lake.  Legend has it that the people have black blood to help them over come the cold and save them from drowning.

"If there is no wind, row." Latin Proverb

In the distance we began to see the outline of green reed islands boasting families of brightly clothed women standing next to reed huts.  A large sign welcomed us into the beginnings of the settlement.  Arranged in a loose circle, the islands varied in size and population.  Reed boats, that appeared to have floated out of an ancient Egyptian era, plied the dark blue waters.  Two hulls of woven grass formed the base for intricately woven figure heads of condors and pumas.  The shaded hut in the centre of the boat provided a sun deck and seating upstairs for the groups of tourists being paddled back and forth.  The Uros rowers called out to each other, breaking the silent calm of the water.  Their toothless shouts and laughter echoed across the lake, welcoming us into their primordial world.  Although, the Uros people are not against modern technology, many have solar power panels to power TVs and charge cell phones.  The people on each of the islands seemed to be either entertaining tourists, waving them goodbye or waiting for the arrival of a new shipment of sightseers.  We, ourselves soon pulled along side a medium sized compound of huts clustered around what seemed like a central village green.  As the strong arms of two Uros women docked our boat, the previous group of tourist was ushered off the island onto a reed boat ride.  Business was brisk this morning.  We were eager to step down onto the spongy reeds and take our turn on the tourist merry go round.  The first footsteps onto reeds are a little disconcerting as your shoes sink down a few inches.  It takes a moment to realize the ground is indeed solid beneath your feet.  Well maybe not solid but certainly spongy.  

"No man or woman is an island. 

To exist just for yourself is meaningless. 

You can achieve the most satisfaction when you feel related to 

some greater purpose in life, something greater than yourself."

.Denis Waitley

Each island is a family entity.  Our island had 31 people living there, each one related to the other in some way.  After thanking the ladies who helped us step off the boat, we met the mayor of this particular island.  Each year a different person is elected to be the leader of the group.  I was fascinated to watch an elderly woman carefully place herself down in view of us and start to embroider a small tapestry.  The paparazzi of the 20 or so cameras in our group went off. Then a younger lady with her toddler appeared and began to unveil a low table of trinkets and souvenirs.  I couldn't imagine a harder environment to bring up a child, but the kid was wrapped up snugly and seemed happy in the usual snot nose and ruddy cheeks kind of way.  Once our tour group had assembled in a semi circle and perched on long logs made out of totora, the mayor began to explain their way of life amongst the reeds.

While we focused our attention on our tour leader and the mayor, more young girls gathered behind us, uncovering stand after stand of necklaces, baskets, dolls, tapestries, mobiles, hats and bracelets.  All the ladies wore brightly colored full skirts with short embroidered bolero jackets in brilliant hues.  Each wore an undersized bowler hat jauntily perched at angle.  Only a handful of men lurked about.  Everyone had round full faces and seemed happy with shy smiles and a reluctant grasp of English.  I also wore an interested smile as I listened to the mayor it was my first time hearing the story.  I could not imagine what there was to smile about for the island family considering they had to hear this at least two or three times a day. 

“At times our lives seem like that of a tranquil island in a sea of chaos. 

The battle is to keep this sea of chaos at bay 

and not let it wash us away into utter chaos.”

 Sanjeeva Ananthan

The totora reeds taste like watery celery, a lot of chewing for little gain.  However, this tasteless life support is akin to coca tea for the Uros.  It can be spliced and applied as a coolant to a fevered forehead, as a medicine, it's actually a rich source of iodine.  Dried it provides fodder for animals, fuel for the fire, material for the boats and foundations and walls for the huts.  Yet its most important role is underfoot - as the island created for the family, by the family, who live upon its terra firma.  Building a reed island is a not an easy task and takes many months.  Motivated members of the clan take boats and go in search of large sections of reed roots which are adrift.  Once sourced these floating entities are harvested with long, two man, hand held saws and towed back to the approximate area where the family had chosen to anchor.  These floating pontoons are then tethered together to form the island base.  Next the reeds themselves are harvested and laid length ways criss cross fashion atop of the buoyant sod, to build up the platform.  It's an ongoing labour to keep the islands afloat, as the sunken base rots away new reeds must be placed on top to rebuild the island.  It takes around 6 months to build one of these islands and they last for about 30 to 40 years.  While tourism may bring an easier income, it diverts attention from the daily task of maintaining the island and the continual replenishment of reeds.   If it all gets too much or should a dispute with a neighbor occur, one can just up anchor and move away.  If an internal quarrel escalates the same huge hand held saw could be used to cut the island in half and bring a new meaning to the word divorce!  Although tourism takes away from the island maintenance, it also provides an instant cash flow in the form of reed tourist knick knacks and beautiful embroidered tapestries.  Living off small lake fish, water fowl eggs, trapping and shooting birds with a museum piece gun, the people seemed happy and healthy.  As a piece of living history, I thought a floating island was incredible ingenuity just to avoid a few marauding neighbors.

"But what is happiness except the simple harmony
between a man and the life he leads?"
Albert Camus

Once the well rehearsed explanation from the mayor was over it was time to rub shoulders with the locals and send the kids up the rickety tower.  In times gone by of course this would have been the watch tower to look for afore mentioned marauding neighbors.  In modern day it was a shaky two story thing that warned of toppling over if too many bodies mounted at one time.  

Not all the islands are tourist traps but this one definately was.  So I figured why not  support the cause and do a little shopping.  In one sense the level of  tourism intensity did smack of Kevin Costner's waterworld.  Yet the amount of dollars injected into the village daily had to be a good reason to keep the whole thing afloat.  Who cares if tourism dollars are the motivator to keep the traditional culture going, just as long as it keeps going.

I presumed we had outstayed our welcome when another group approached and we were ushered aboard the twin hull reed boat for our $10pp experience.  The floating shop boat putted past as we swung out amongst the floating islands.  The quiet stillness of the chilly water was broken by the criss crossing of tourists and locals in various vessels.

As we passed the other islands we encountered the repetitive tourism experience going on island after island.  More than once I heard the serenade goodbye to the tourists as we looped around repetitively listening to the dulcet tones of the village ladies sing "row row row your boat" and "hasta la vista baby".  An easy humor and simple harmony with nature was all around us.

"A house must be built on solid foundations if it is to last. 

The same principle applies to man, 

otherwise he too will sink back into the soft ground 

and becomes swallowed up by the world of illusion."

Sai Baba

The floating islands were most certainly surreal although very much a hub of activity, a thriving community.  It turns out most of the Uros actually live on shore and not on the islands permanently.  What do I care if the tourismo day tripper keeps the old customs alive by giving value to them even if it is in the form of boat rides and knick knacks.  At least it was being kept alive and I could visit the illusion.

“The larger the island of knowledge, the longer the shoreline of wonder."

Ralph W. Sockman 

Now it was our turn to return to Puno with Hasta La Vista in our ears.  I had a wonderful visit to the floating islands even if I did arrive back at our hotel with a cracking headache and slight sunburn from the lack of ozone up here.  I definitely had new respect for a way of life I could never have imagined.

Home school holding pattern at 12,500 feet

“Your attitude, not your aptitude, will determine your altitude”

 Zig Ziglar

Okay, so I admit it, going from sea level to over 12,500 ft. without acclimatizing was a bit of a dumb blonde move.  It was the early morning when we left Buenos Aires and late evening when we arrived at Lake Titicaca, Peru, the highest navigable lake in the world.   

To get there we made two stops on route; Lima the capitol at 5,000 ft. and then a five minute layover to take on board more passengers in Arequipa at 7,600ft.  Between Arequipa and our final airport, Juliaca, we flew really low over snow capped mountains, or was it that the mountains were just really high?  The peaks reminded me of pictures of Everest and they stretched out either side of the plane, interspaced with high altitude fresh water lakes.  This was nothing I'd ever seen before. 

“I owned the world that hour as I rode over it. Free of the earth, free of the mountains, free of the clouds, but how inseparably I was bound to them.”

 Charles Lindbergh

Peru is a place of ancient cultures and includes arid coastal plains, high Andean mountains and tropical Amazon jungles.  A mix of places and people offering  up photographic opportunities all the time, everywhere.  This ancient land has been home to cultures as old as the Egyptian pyramids and of course, to the Incas which were the last indigenous people before the Spanish conquistadors changed South America forever in the 1500's.

The mix of Inca and Spanish heritage leaves most people with dark hair and beautiful olive skin.  Not a place for the dumb blonde adventure to blend into the scenery easily.  Although, the good news was that either my Spanish had improved or the Peruvians understood my pronunciation a little better.

Greg, with his usual efficient research, gave me the crime forewarnings off the internet.  Top of the list of dangers were: pickpockets, express kidnappings, rogue taxi drivers and counterfeit money.  It was no wonder I was more light headed than usual as we gasped our way into the luggage area of Juliaca  airport.

Greeted by what would become the obligatory panpipe/drum/guitar four man band, we waited for the bags to arrive.  Juliaca airport is remote, the cool air breezed in over the open grassland and I started to understand what Peru was going to be.  Stumbling out of the tiny airport baggage claim we managed to find Herman, our man with the van.  Luckily he provided a four wheel minibus rather than the three wheel auto bus which most of the locals use.

It is more fun to drive a slow car fast than to drive a fast car slow."

Abner Perney

It was a one hour drive to Puno, the light was fading and so were we.  While watching the wide paved dusty streets of Juliaca pass by, I tortured myself with thoughts of high altitidue sickness and berated myself on not being better informed and organized.  The jump from sea level to these heights was fraught with complications such as fluid in the lungs and swelling of the brain.  Edema can start with swollen ankles, I didn't  want to start inspecting my unshaven legs at this point so I focused in on any cerebral swelling and  I started poking my cheeks and forehead.  Hard to tell if it was swelling or just 41 years of sagging?

    “Man must rise above the Earth—to the top of the atmosphere and beyond —for only thus will he fully understand the world in which he lives." 

Socrates 

The tiny box of altitude pills we bought at the very last minute before boarding in Lima seemed a scant reassurance.  I guess this was minus another few hundred mother points for me because, of course, kids are way more susceptible to the altitude than adults.  Was that guilt tightening in my chest or just a new type of shallow breathing?

"Life is like riding a bicycle. 

To keep your balance you must keep moving."

Albert Einstein

I tried to push all concerns out of the sliding mini bus window and focus on enjoying the onward movement of the journey.  We entered into what would be our first Peruvian Plaza de Arms in the town centre of Juliaca and joined the melee of traffic; cars, vans, motorbikes, motor bike rickshaws, bicycle rickshaws and pedestrians.  Each entity weaving and winding, barely avoiding big bang collision in a cosmic transportation twist.  Motoring safely through, Herman, the van man, explained how Puno was higher than Juliaca and we had another 30 minutes to go.  I did a double breath intake to reduce the sinking feeling in my stomach. Dreading every wind through the hillside into ever higher altitude I clung onto the positive fact no one had passed out yet.

"The quality of a university is measured more by the kind of student it turns out than the kind it takes in."

Robert J. Kibbee

I thought perhaps I was hallucinating when I spotted this odd looking structure, but it turned out to be Juliaca University.  Most of the other buildings were low rise, dusty brick houses with tile roofs.

“Mission Revival red-tiled roofs glowing carmine in the sunset.”

 Kevin Starr

In an attempt to avoid dehydration we sucked back on as much water as we could manage.  It wasn't long before we were desperate for an arrival and our first Peruvian toilet.  Just in the nick of time we pulled up in front of Casa Andina. In the darkness we saw nothing of our new home but the reception desk and male/female symbols of the ablutions.  The superior lakeview room couldn't sleep us all so it morphed into an inferior room with a slice-of-the-lake view.  I didn't care, I just wanted to be in bed.  It had been a long day since the 4:30 wake up call in Buenos Aires.  Sliding into the clean sheets my mind began to question what high altitude sleep apnea might mean?

"I'm so fast that last night I turned off the light switch in my hotel room and was in bed before the room was dark." 

Muhammad Ali

The next couple of days was a mixed bag for all of us.  We all felt dreadful at different times.  Altitude is a real roller coaster of health, being so high up certainly makes you appreciate how well your body can function.  Perhaps being so close to the heavens puts you in a closer vicinity to your own particular God.  Maybe breathing hard just makes you feel your own mortality.  Either way we spent the days alternating between eating meals, sucking on the oxygen and home schooling.  Does it make me evil to force math onto a boy using an oxygen machine? 

"If it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, 

we have at least to consider the possibility that we have 

a small aquatic bird of the family anatidae on our hands." 

Douglas Adams

Luckily Josh's birdwatching science project coincided with our arrival at the lake.  The hotel jetty was the perfect place to quietly sit and record the feathered activities.  Inevitably it involved recruiting an older sister to help count the baby ducklings.  

"You and I have memories 

longer than the road that stretches out ahead."

The Beatles

For the first few days it was a very quiet slow existence in the crisp sunshine and thin air.  At this altitude the chance of sunburn is high and we had to remember to apply sunscreen.  The slow walk home from dinner each evening gave us a chance to see our breath hang in the cold dry night air.  

“The human mind is capable of excitement 

without the application of gross and violent stimulants" 

William Wordsworth

I cant really tell you if drinking the coca tea really made a difference to my altitude sickness.  The kids thought the medicine we bought in the airport was a magic miracle, turns out it was mainly caffine.  Great, now the whole family are addicts on something or other.  Maybe it was just the peace and quiet of the lake and time that made us feel better.   Time spent watching the birds and the alpacas and a schedule of staring out at Puno across the water and the boats passing by.  Soon enough we would head out onto this beautiful lake in search of floating islands.  

"The lake; speak silence with thy glimmering eyes,

And wash the dusk with silver." 

William Blake

Don't Cry for me

“They say if you come to Buenos Aires and you haven't danced tango, 

then you haven't been to Buenos Aires!”

 Emilene Faria

As we docked into Buenos Aires the mist turned to drizzle and I could barely make out the high rise buildings of Puerto Madre.  Once again, our touristic attitude left us bewildered at the baggage carousel as the savvy South Americans pushed and elbowed for their luggage.  Everyone hustled so fast through the X-ray bag security and out to the taxi rank, we were soon straggling behind, blonde and bewildered.  Its not that I don't realize these moments are the very point when you get ripped off, it's just there was no alternative.  I knew we would pay over the odds to the taxi driver who was a suggestion of the port security worker.  However, it did mean we dodged standing in line at the taxi rank in the rain.  I figured if we paid double it was worth it, any more than that and those blonde hairs on my neck would start to hackle and my inner tourist would start snarling.

We arrived at the Hilton in two taxis, where of course the taxi driver demanded a second double payment.  The concierge, with a long over coat and top hat, soon put a stop to the taxi driver's shenanigans and we stumbled gratefully inside.

"The great advantage of a hotel is that it's a refuge from home life." 

George Bernard Shaw

The Hilton foyer is a magnificent glass atrium many stories high.  The light floods the lobby and creates a feeling of modern efficiency.

"there comes a time in every woman's life 

when the only thing that helps is a glass of Champagne"

Bette Davis

Check in was seamless and as we were a little early we were offered a glass of champagne while we waited in the foyer.  Plenty friends in Uruguay had warned of stories of robberies and hold ups by gun toting street gangs.  Sipping on the bubbly, in the sanctuary of the huge glass foyer, all the insecurities melted away.  

"come quickly, I am tasting the stars!"

Dom Perignon

With my usual urgency to see everything in the guide book before nightfall, I rallied the gang and we slid down the glass elevator onto a new adventure.  

Buenos Aires is often called the Paris of the Americas.  Maybe its the gourmet food, that Latino culture, the European inspired architecture or perhaps the passion of the tango.  With over 3 million people in the city proper plus 10 million more in the metro area, BA has way more people than Paris.  Unfortunately, it also has a way worse crime rate with: muggers, scam artists, pickpockets and bag snatchers working in gangs and often armed.  However, we barely saw anyone as a light rain began to fall on Woman's Bridge.  The design is supposed to represent a couple embracing in a tango.  Perhaps I needed heavier mist to really see it?

"Love is the bridge between two hearts.”  Unknown

The River Plate and surrounding area has a history of marauding Indians and privateers.  First settled by the conquistador Mendoza, he named the city Santa Maria del Buen Aire - Holy Mary of the Fair Winds.  The city was abandoned in 1541 due to Indian attacks and only settled again in 1580, once again as a Spanish port.  As the pirates of the 1600's and 1700's gained notoriety, the Spanish authorities preferred overland routes through Peru.  This frustrated the Portenos (people of the port of BA) and  the  contraband business thrived.  By 1800 the King of Spain declared Buenos Aires a free port, but it was too little too late.  The Argentine war of independence was hard won and the new country emerged in 1816.  This new Argentina would fight off both British and French attempts to take it in the coming centuries.

The flag is often thought to represent the clouds, the sky and the sun. By the late 1800's and early 1900's there was plenty immigration from Spain and Italy which was  reflected in the city's European style architecture and developement.  Many of the shanty towns around BA would provide the impoverished masses for the Peron voting block of the 1940's.  The fighting between left and right factions has left Aregentina with a history of military dictorships, coups and a human rights legacy of 30,000 "desaparecidos" - those disappeared by the junta.  Modern day Argentina while democratic, has plenty of issues, ranging from the Maldives/Falkland Islands to economic capital controls.  Yet Buenos Aires is still a popular tourist destination with lots of culture, food and sights to see.  We would only have a few days here in the city perhaps best known for Eva Peron and the birth place of Tango.

The weather was cool and damp as the four of us bravely walked out of the hotel with the warnings to push away people who may squirt us with mustard, in a ruse to pick our pockets.  We wandered around the Puerto Madre district unmolested over to the Woman's Bridge and an old schooner docked outside a fabulous restaurant.  Of course we went in and ate with a view of the tall ship.  

"I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by" 

John Masefield

"Shopping is a woman thing.  

It's a contact sport like football.  

Women enjoy the scrimmage, the noisy crowds, 

the danger of being trampled to death, and the ecstasy of the purchase." 

Erma Bombeck

Early the next morning we went and ate breakfast at the San Telmo markets.  Always hungry, we decided to eat first and shop later.  Luckily, we managed to find a place that was open and looked okay.

“I went to a cafe that advertised breakfast anytime,
so I ordered French Toast during the Rennaisance.”

 Stephen Wright

The wooden chairs and tables set under the high ceilings and mottled mirrors smacked early 19th century Parisienne style.  The aged waiters with long black aprons and waistcoats worked their morning routine.  Huge bowl like cups of steaming latte appeared before us while we watched the Saturday morning market crowds gather.

After a breakfast of coffee dipped croissants we wandered the antique stalls. From second hand fur coats to leather bags the stalls wound around the well worn cobbles of San Telmo square.  Feather dusters vendors and pretty girls selling empanadas wandered the throng.  This was my favorite kind of cultural experience, food, people shopping and theatre all in one spot.  I meandered around in the cool morning air with a large smile, channelling Eva with my side swept bun hairdo.

"I am my own woman." 

Evita Peron 

We were enchanted by the street theatre of two aged lovers weaving their familiar tango, intertwined amongst the photo hungry tourists.  

"The Tango is a sad thought that you can dance." 

Enrique Santos Discépolo“

Buenos Aires is, of course synonymous with tango.  The dance evolved from the poor immigrant dock workers who greatly outnumbered the women in the city.  The brothels were busy places, while the men waited they would often dance with each other to the live music.  Optimistically they practiced their skill so when an opportunity arose to get close to a woman and dance in a crowded tenement courtyard, their tango prowess would help them to win a sweetheart.  With such fierce competition tango grew into a dance where the man's aim was to make sure the woman in his arms had a good time.

"Tango bubbled up from the brothels and low-life, 

so when I see scruffy young people dancing tango in gym shoes and jeans, 

I think that's great." Unknown

"The Tango is the natural pulse of Buenos Aires" 

Leopoldo Marechal

From the San Telmo markets it was a quick cab ride to the Recoleta markets.  Once again the crowds wound their way around the rows of stalls.  Although, there was more an emphasis on arts and crafts and new goods for sale rather than the antiques.  Exhausted, but with some of my travel hunger sated we returned to the hotel.

Back at the Hilton homestead we sank into comfy leather chairs in the foyer and listened to an expert piano player tinkle the ivories while we had hot chocolate and chatted to the other guests.  

As the evening rolled around it was time again for mother to make a break for it and go off, alone into the night, in search of tango!  The family would have an early night and I would head over to the tango show.  What an amazing night, crammed into a tiny cellar.  I had a mamaventure congratulatory glass of champagne while the curtain lifted to my first taste of professional tango.  Well worth the late night, I was entertained by dance, music, song and bolero.  The northern parts of Argentina are renowned for gaucho culture.  These cowboys use bolas, a braided leather cord weighted with upto three stone balls.  Using a lasso style throw, the cord is thrown to tangle the legs of the cattle or animal.  However, for this night time bonanza a silky clad gaucho used his boots and bolas to whip up a frenzy of noise and stunts.  The grand finale was a rendition of Andrew Lloyd Weber's famous "don't cry for me lyrics" - in Evitable.

As I crept back into the room, to the soft snores of my family, I grinned from ear to ear, safe in the knowledge I hadn't lost my sense of adventure (even if it was a privately chaffered, showtime escapde.).

On our last day in the city we decided to take a local tour to learn a little of the history and of course actually find Eva's tomb in the overcrowded cemetery of Recoleta.  Every good euro city tour includes elaborate parliament buildings, obligatory equestrian statues, mandatory fountains, changing of the guards and of course pigeons.  BA is no different. 

"Accept that some days you're the pigeon, and some days you're the statue” Unknown. 

While the kids chased the birds, our tour guide explained the history of Plaza de Mayo, the main square and political hub of Buenos Aires.  

"At every crossroads on the path that leads to the future, 

tradition has placed 10,000 men to guard the past." 

Maurice Masterlinck

“Coffee houses are frequented by people who want to be alone 

but need company for that" 

Alfred Polgar.

La Boca is a vibrant edgy district in the SE of the the city.  With strong Italian Genoa roots, the area evolved as the port due to its location on the mouth or boca of the river.  Artists and composers regenerated the area during the 1960's and its brightly painted houses and 19th century historical feel have made it a mecca for tourists.  Weaving in and out of the side walk cafes the street art is amazing.

This was an area to stay well within the confines of the ever present tourist police.  At either end of the Caminito pedestrian street officers lingered alongside their vehicles, armed and alert.   We were warned by our guide to stay close by the taverns and street shows.  This was no place to be after nightfall.

"Without the streets nor dusks of Buenos Aires a Tango cannot be written"

Jorge Luis Borges

La Boca is home to the beloved Boca Juniors soccer team.  The area around the stadium was  impoverished with litter and dogs scattered amongst the graffiti.  Interestingly, this is the only place in the world where Coca Cola allows their logo to be changed from red and white to black and white.  The reason of course is because the rival soccer club colors are red and white.

Driving on, through the city, gave us a chance to sit and stare at every day life.  We wound our way through the paved grid towards Palermo, the affluent area of the metropolis.  This area grew rapidly in the early days when yellow fever swept through the crowded San Telmo district.  Many of the mansions there were abandoned and the poor immigrant population took up residencce.  Palermo has lots of green spaces and is home to the zoological gardens.  

"a synthesis of all the flowers and is both a hope that is reborn every day to open." Catalano

Eduardo Catalano donated this huge steel and aluminum Floralis Generica to the city in 2002.  This eighteen ton, 23 meter high flower sits above a reflecting pool in a gated park.  It represents all flowers and is supposed to close every night and reopen in the morning to symbolize rebirth.  However, like many things in BA it is broken and the government deems the mechanism too expensive to fix. 

“I will come again, and I will be millions.”

 Evita Perón 

The cemetery at Recoleta is the final resting place of Eva Peron.  70 years after her death she still gathers quite a crowd.  Her tomb is in an obscure location so the burial grounds are busy with folks searching through the rows of vaults each one more elaborate than the next.  

"If a man needs an elaborate tombstone in order to remain in the memory of his country, it is clear that his living at all was an act of absolute superfluity."   

Oscar Wilde

Eva was very much a woman, larger than life during her short existence and increasing in fame after death.  Born in 1919, an illegitimate fifth child, she grew up knowing poverty.  At 15 she headed to the city to become an actress and singer.  At 24 years of age she met Juan Peron, who was then 48.  Peron drew her into the political arena and when he won the 1946 presidency bid he would make her his first lady.  Through radio she supported his campaigns and roused the public with her understanding of the common woman.   She died at 33 from cancer and the flower shops of BA ran out of blooms, such was the outpouring of grief from the people.  Her body was embalmed and lay in state for 2 years.  Juan Peron was then overthrown from government and fled the  country without making arrangements for Eva.  Her body disappeared for 16 years.  With a ban on Peronism, it was not until 1971 that the military revealed the whereabouts of her body in Milan.  An exhumation followed and Isabel, Peron's third wife and then president of Argentina, placed Eva in the Recoleta Cemetery.  A very expensive resting place for a woman who sympathized with the poor.  In Argentina there is a saying that it costs much more to die than it does to live.

“My biggest fear in life is to be forgotten.”

 Evita Perón 

A woman and a place never to be forgotton.  Like the tango, Argentina had seduced me.  I had seen so much, enjoyed it all, yet I was left wanting more.