We had left Thursday and Friday in Buenos Aires, so on those days we went to Palermo, the “nice” neighborhood from Buenos Aires, it reminded me of La Roma in Mexico City. With beautiful old buildings, coffee shops everywhere and people enjoying an afternoon doing nothing. Here we witness what we didn’t in La Boca, where there was no theft or riots but the world would not be what it is if it wasn’t ironic. In Palermo we did see a robbery, not to us but it was close. A guy got off a motorcycle and tore the necklace to a woman who was sitting in a restaurant on the edge of the street. She screamed, the boy walked to the other side of the street where the motorcycle waited for him, the woman shouted at him and the guy mocked her, the bike started and they left. There was no commotion, no one helped, no one could really do something. I did not see it, I was at a store but my dad told me everything. Then we realized that the stories of the thefts in Buenos Aires were true.
In Palermo there is the Evita Peron museum, so we didn’t hesitate and we went there. This woman is either loved or hated, there’s no-one in between. The museum, of course, praises her and shows only the good part of her, it puts her like an heroin and a victim. Honestly, I think it is an interesting topic, her life, but I’d rather not get anyone’s part. But I will say two things that day someone mentioned about Evita. A rich argentinian said to us that Eva Perón was a hypocrite who helped the poor but also lived a life of luxury and comfort, incongruent with what she wanted to show the people of Argentina. The next day, I met a man who sold books that said ” Evita Peron, Argentina’s best woman.” So I do not know what to think. Maybe she was a being resentful of the upper class, but I think she and Peron implemented good strategies to help the less fortunate. In the end, nobody’s perfect. After the museum we decided to walk -for the umpteenth time in Florida street-and we tried to get a good rate to the dollar, our last dollars (we didn’t bring much).
We woke up and it was Friday, that night we would take a 22 hours bus to Bariloche. We had some good five hours to continue exploring the city so we set path. That day we went to Recoleta, because when we went to the cemetery in earlier days it was closed. Before we went to the cemetery we went to see the metal flower, which is relatively close. It is in the square of the United Nations and it opens at dawn and closes after dark. To get there we passed the Law building which is impressive. We turned around and now we were heading towards the Recoleta cemetery where Evita is buried. To get there we passed a small park where we saw something that seem like a performance of people going up a hill crawling like worms and taking off their clothes as they went up. It was weird and no one understood anything but we clapped at the end.
The cemetery is beautiful, I kept wanting to go to the cemetery that is in Paris but my sister told me that this is a lot like one of them, the one where Jim Morrison is buried, only that the one in Buenos Aires is smaller. We saw Evita’s grave and overall it was nice. All the tombs of rich people from previous centuries. The coffin are well sealed and that’s why you can see right there, no need to be under three meters. I saw a tomb of a young girl and it had a poem written by his father in marble. It was in Italian so I do not understand much, the name of the girl was Liliana. I heard some Italians say “It’s very sad” when they finished reading the poem. We took a taxi to San Telmo, since we liked it a lot we wanted to spend our last few hours in Buenos Aires there. We walked a bit and we ate in a restaurant called Don Ernesto, pretty good.
Argentines have been very kind, I thought that they wouldn’t be since in Mexico we have this idea of them to be show off and kind of rude but they are really cool. An Argentine gentleman saw me with the map and offered help, then we met again facing a strike and he asked us where we were from, Mexico responded. Then he pointed at the strikers and said “I have 81 years , this has been done since the 50’s, we are in 2014 and nothing has been resolved, I’m sorry you got to see this, this is done by stup”… a moment paused and continued “by Argentines, Do you understood the word I meant? ” We said yes and he said ” I am Argentine but it’s true… I met some Spanish and told them here we said Galician jokes and they replied that it did not matter that in Spain they joked about Argentines” ( JOKE : what is the best business in the world? Buy an Argentine for what it’s worth and sell him for what he believes it’s worth) “and look I say that and I am Argentine” he said then he go down another street with a smile and probably laughing at the joke. I did not ask his name , there was no time… but at least he told me a joke.