Scar on the Sky
Where does one even start with Buenos Aires? The New World Old World city that looks more like the offspring of a tryst threesome between Paris, Barcelona, and Madrid? Yet situated below the belt in South America of all places? Home to 14 million people I have been told, the sprawling, beautiful, and delicious capital of Argentina, honestly, has me utterly smitten and quite frankly, befuddled.
Everything here seems so very known, so familiar. Yet fresh and new. Like a new twist on an old classic. Classic cafes line the boulevards as they should in any properly run city. Tango and football nuisances are scattered everywhere. And beef. Beef and leather emanate from nearly every street corner, grilled steaks thrown on a hot wood-fired grill next to a boutique shop wafting of cow hide and high-end leather goods. The smell is everywhere, omnipresent and nearly unavoidable.
Which leads me to a note on the beef here, indulge my digression. For those that know me they would attest that I am not fond of the steak and potato diet. Quite honestly, it perplexes me. Maybe it's my Norwegian roots squirming and yearning for something, Anything but more god damn potatoes. And steak? Charred flesh with salt and pepper? Yeah, ok, maybe. But quite honestly that isn't really my thing either. I don't get it. Yes I eat meat, I have come to realize that every time I order beef or chicken or pork or fish, something dies. And though I'm not enthusiastic about other living creatures dying so that I may eat, I have inevitably come to the decision that berries and nuts are not the end all be all for me. I have made some type of moral accommodation and in the end I think the true underling lesson is to be conscious and aware of where food comes from. That being said, the beef here is amazing. Absolutely amazing. I have never had better beef in 40 countries worth of travel. Fact. However, the capacity that many porteños (inhabitants of Buenos Aires) have for beef consumption is absolutely incredible. Noteworthy in any intrepid travelers diatribe.
Like most well to do cities, Buenos Aires has a darker side. Surrounded on it's outskirts by the villas miserias, or miseryville, the slums of Buenos Aires are without footnote or mention in guidebooks. And with roughly 1/3rd of the world's urban population living in slums, maybe they should. Not every place service high-end fashion and high-end beef cuts. As a traveler, I try to remind myself of this.
Buenos Aires will continue to befuddle and fascinate me. I'm here for awhile. I have a lot of time left to become enlightened.