Don´t Cry For Me (us) Argentina


BA is considered by many to be the “Paris of South America” and it has a decidedly European, rather than South American, feel. It is a large, lively, slightly neurotic and theatrical city — sort of San Francisco-Paris-Madrid on a cheap Malbec hangover.


Our hosts, Genevieve (Mexican-born, lived in South Africa, educated in Switzerland) and Marcelo (Argentine of Italian descent) have both worked in theater all over the world and have an extraordinary home full of objects d’art from their work and travels. With theatre paraphenalia and African sculptures everywhere, eclectic collections of every kind, eight hysterical cats (including Malcolm X, the magnificent king of the pride; Mozart, who has a heavy streak of Golden Retriever in his personality; Moliere, a black beauty; Mustafa and Morticia, cautiously friendly), Los Gatosa mix of international music playing at any given moment, and a fun, funny, fascinating family, we began our vacation on a perfect note in the perfect place.

Their home is in barrio San Telmo. A colorful, slightly funky, quickly gentrifying neighborhood full of antique shops, art galleries and tango schools, it is famous for its Sunday crafts fair which sprawls for no less than 20 blocks. As luck would have it, this particular Sunday was also a once-yearly celebration which we quickly discovered was no ordinary tzchotchkies-for-tourists affair. Oh no nos amigos — this was something else altogether. Alan describes it as “Cabrillo Arts Show Meets ComicCon.” I would only add “and Fellini Directs.”

Feria San TelmoIn addition to the usual bad crafts and robomimes of Feria San Telmo, there were people in elaborate costumes and fully staged booths. Among them: Samuri warrior; very old Rapunzel (complete with old prince drinking a cup of coffee); guys in gorilla suits; Leonardo’s Virgin of the Rocks; Eco-woman in a trash can; Edith Piaf impersonator; and Alan’s favorites, septegenarian Batman, Robin and the Joker. They weren’t selling anything. They just wanted to dress up and have their pictures taken — for ego, not for money.

I met the Julia Child of Argentina. Evidently, she had the first popular television show and best-selling cookbook — several decades ago. So the aged pair — “Julia” brought along her sister — had a large booth oufitted with a crumbling copy of the now antique book and signature mixer. They stood for hours, with a petrifying crepe to one side, beating together an egg and some farina. It was about 90 degrees outside so “baking” demonstration took on extra meaning for us all.


The city is full of colorful murals at every turn and we took many as we explored the different barrios. We also strolled through MALBA, Floralis Genericathe modern art museum which we enjoyed more for its design than contents because the best of the collection was closed off. However, just a few blocks away, we were able to view Floralis Generica, a gigantic metal sculpture that opens and closes using some sort of solar control.

Late one afternoon, we stumbled into multiple art show openings at Galeria Borges. The Art of Advertising show was a knock-out. At some point, we were asked by an Italian The Last Tupperphotographer if we would pose for a photo that might someday appear who-knows-where. (Look for us next time you’re in Italy at a swanky art opening.) Our favorite painting depicts 13 women at a long table, talking among themselves and cooing over a plastic bowl. See if you can guess the title.

We also happened upon The International Photojournalism Exhibition & Awards show. From sports to social justice to AIDS, every piece was striking.

And, of course, there was wine flowing everywhere. It may have been the Argentine version of Two Buck Chuck, but it was damn good.


First a few thoughts on the eve of our departure from the U.S….

Tomorrow, for the first time in eight years, Alan and I will land in a foreign county without feeling the need to adopt Canadian accents or identify ourselves as “Californians-who-hate-Bush.” We won’t have to struggle to explain the idiocy and greed that has ruled this land. (We were in India for the 2000 election/robbery and people asked us why Americans weren’t rioting in the streets. I have to confess, I didn’t have a good answer and wondered why myself.)

No, tonight I am truly proud of being an American. I am overwhelmed by the profundity of what has transpired and what can be. For the first time in many, many years I am truly, gratefully hopeful; and I am truly grateful that together we have been able to share this extraordinary moment in history.

And now from Argentina…

As we had hoped and expected, everyone here is thrilled when we introduce ourselves as “Americans celebrating Obama’s election.” Other travelers, taxi drivers, hostel managers, shop clerks, EVERYONE. At the fabulous French restaurant, after a long talk with the owner, Pasqual, we were teated to champagne. On a more somber note, I (Harriet) talked with one of the “desaparesidos” in Plaza de Mayo who said that because of Obama’s election, she felt hopeful for the entire world

For those of you who may not know or be too young to remember, in 1976 a military coup led by Gen Jorge Videla began the 7-year “Dirty War” when an estimated 30,000 supposed “dissidents” were abducted, raped, tortured, murdered — “disappeared.”

A year after Videla’s brutal reign began, a group of mothers of the desaparesidos marched in Plaza de Mayo to demand information about their missing children. The march has continued weekly for 30 years, but very few madres remain and the demands for retribution and information have given way to a small vigil of sorts. PoliticosA new faction of the original group also marches each week, but their focus is more political than personal and they seek social justice for current, as well as past issues.

That a mother–who lost her newly married 21-year old son and his wife, both students, 30 years ago–can feel hopeful, is both inspiring and, hopefully, prophetic.

In addition to witnessing the madres (, we stumbled upon a few other colorful, and evidently common, political rallies.


7 thoughts on “Don´t Cry For Me (us) Argentina

  1. Hi!!
    I love hearing everything from BA!! I am so jealous!! It sounds like you are having an amazing time!! Keep the pics and the blog coming, I can’t wait to hear more!! Safe travels!!

  2. Love the art, the cats, the wild costumes and the politics – keep the entries coming! Oh, and thanks for a good excuse to start planning our next trip to Italy.

  3. Sounds great to me – glad you enjoyed BA “en famille,” as it were. I knew you would, and I’m glad to hear that Malcolm still rules the roost.

    I sent you a news item about the Montecito fires but it was returned as “undeliverable.” The speed of it all was astonishing, and I don’t know where most of the damage happened. I’ll ask Steve Cloud.

    Enjoy Chile and the noggins on Easter Island. Genevieve says you’ll be back, so I look forward to hearing about a big farewell party, Petitpierre style. Enjoy!!

  4. good to finally hear your news, and especially good to know your house is okay. enjoy, enjoy, and keep posting. love, LK

  5. What a grand adventure you are having. However, where are all the FOOD descriptions. This is what I live for on your travel blog. I know you have been eating, and I want all the tasty details :-)

  6. The market description raised my swap meet hackles. What a good start. Found some great nooks and crannies here, the dustier the better. Found one lady who sells seconds that are better than the firsts. I only have one more purchase – a plastic Buddha lamp ala beer sign style. I have to go out of my way a bit but I am willing to pay anything for it. Love, Chuck

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