Day 94 - Manaus

Wake up, wake up!  A rooster crow, an alarm clock, and our guide’s voice played over the intercom at 6:30 am to wake us up for piranha fishing.  We fell out of our hammocks to get dressed and took our motor canoes to another isolated house on the water.  The guides distributed long sticks with lines and hooks on them, which made movement awkward in the short hut, and the sticks often hit the slanted roof or other students.  Piranha bait is small cuts of beef, and they are good at getting it off the hook without being caught.  There were only a few piranha catches and one miscellaneous fish catch before the beef ran out and we tendered back to our riverboats for breakfast.

We later spent a couple hours hiking through the rainforest and learning about survival techniques and herbal medicines.  The heat was unbearable and we were drenched in sweat.  We then transferred to another shore to visit a small village and learn about its customs.  Afterward, we piled into the riverboat for the last time and napped in our hammocks on the way back.  We made it almost all the back to the ship – the other riverboats were already there – when a marina police boat pulled us over.  Let me just say that getting pulled over at sea is really awkward.  We were allowed to go on to the ship, but the cops stayed on our riverboat the rest of the way.

Day 93 - Manaus

Today was the next most incredible day of my life.

The day began at 8 am on a riverboat bound toward the Meeting of the Waters, the place where the dark water of the Rio Negro joins with the brown water of the Rio Solimões to form the Amazon River, with a sharp line distinguishing the two tributaries.  Almost immediately after boarding, several students fell asleep in their chairs or on the floor, heavily hung over from the night before.  There were three riverboats on the tour, and we were on the party boat.  We then turned around and a short while later pulled up to a sandy dock made of precarious plank bridges built into the water.  We walked the planks all the way up to the settlement of a few houses built on stilts.  We passed tall trees whose barks showed the water level of the rainy season, some 3-4 meters above the ground.  When we approached the buildings we saw a couple locals passing around three-toed sloths.  At first I was thrown off by their ET-like face and peculiar demeanor, but it took me about five seconds to think they were the cutest creatures in the world.  They really do move very slowly, and they like to wrap their three toes tightly around fingers and shirts and arms and don’t let go.  We passed the sloths around and were reluctant to leave them when it was time for our rainforest tour.

In the rainforest, we came across a rubber tree, and our guide demonstrated how to extract the rubber.  Brazil was the main producer of rubber before synthetic rubber came into popular use.  The guide carved a diagonal line into the tree bark, and white goo seeped out, which he collected into a can stuck under the line.  The goo solidified, and if you pulled on it, it would stretch just like a rubber band.  We also saw exotic plants, like trees with roots above the ground that were several meters wide, trees whose barks were covered in needles, and giant Queen Victoria water lilies that were a meter wide.  What we didn’t see were many bugs; the particularly acidic water of the Rio Negro prevents many species of insect from laying their eggs in the water, including the malaria-carrying mosquito.  On our way out we passed by the sloths again and had to have them ripped out of our arms.

Back on the riverboat, we were feeling the repercussions of being on the party boat.  There two other riverboats had already left and were far ahead.  We were supposed to be among them.  Our guide reprimanded us for taking so long harassing the locals for beer, especially given the fact that we were not allowed to be drinking.  The guys making inappropriate jokes (that weren’t even funny) and the girl who threw up during our jungle trek didn’t help our case.

The guides distributed a hammock and cords to each of us and taught us how to make the knots that would secure our hammocks to the beams above.  The hammocks were hung in close quarters, but they wrapped around you as you lay in them, providing a lot of privacy.  We rocked and swung around and bumped into each other.  There were only 30 of us, but somehow the boat was meant to fit over 70.  We enjoyed lunch on the ship using plastic plates about as sturdy as plastic wrap, then napped in our hammocks during the 3-hour journey to our next destination.

Three hours later we were gently awoken to swim with the pink dolphins, actually a variety of whale.  The venue was a couple floating buildings linked to each other in the middle of the river.  There was no other sign of civilization in any direction.  We were truly in the middle of nowhere, Brazil.  We were very excited to swim with the dolphins, but when it actually came time to step into the water, we became apprehensive.  A few people even sat out.  We had to put on black socks so the dolphins didn’t think our feet were fish and try to eat them.  There was a small platform under the water that we could stand on, but we were also given pool noodles.  We huddled together on the platform and as a group screamed from anxiety so loud the guides had to hush us to not scare the dolphins away.

The water was completely opaque, so we couldn’t see the dolphins, even if they were right in front – or under – us.  There was a guide in the water with us who would coax the dolphins to the surface with a small fish.  There were many occasions where one person would yell, “I’m touching one, I’m touching a dolphin!” and the person beside him, usually an unhappy girl, would say, “No, that’s my leg.”  We could also “ride” a dolphin that was directly under us and the person right next to us would be completely unaware.  Eventually we gathered our courage and tried reaching out to find the dolphins.  They felt so weird!  Their skin is completely smooth, like touching one of those hairless dogs, but wet.  They have strange teeth and a deformed snout and beady eyes; they are far from cute and cuddly.  We kept swimming through the sunset, and when the sun finally disappeared we got out.  We were covered in dirty water that stuck to our body hairs, making us look particularly hirsute.   There was a crude shower where we could rinse off the water that was likely infested with shistosomiasis among other things.

From there we piled into motor canoes to go searching for caimen, small alligators.  Almost immediately, a fish jumped into our canoe and flopped around back and forth under the floorboards.  Three more fish jumped in throughout the night.  By this time, it was almost completely dark, except for the bright light of the waxing gibbous moon, which was ok because caimen are nocturnal.  We explored every corner of a large bay, probably for over an hour.  At some point, our guide asked if any of us had a flashlight, because his had gone out.  We saw that our other canoe in the distance was flashing photos (easy to spot in the pitch black night), so we made our way over to hijack whatever they found.  They were passing around a caiman, which resembled a lizard more than it did an alligator.  This is what Mulan must have felt when she found out her ancestors sent her Mushu instead of a dragon.  Nonetheless, it was a cool site, and we passed it around our canoe, too, before releasing it back into the water.

We wrapped up caiman hunting and headed toward a beach luau.  We didn’t know where we were going, but we soon saw lights off in the distance.  Around the lights it was pitch black for as far as we could see, and again we felt very isolated.  The lights kept getting bigger until we pulled up to shore.  We found rows of lights and chairs and, most importantly, the buffet line!  There was ample food, including mashed potatoes, chicken, shish kebabs, and flan.  We tried to balance our food on the same flimsy plates, and enjoyed the food and atmosphere until it was time to cuddle up in our hammocks for the night.

Day 92 - Manaus

As soon as I left the port of Manaus, my nose got stuffy and I started sneezing regularly.  Turns out I’m allergic to Manaus.  Right outside the terminal were rows and rows of vendors selling anything but tourist items – shirts, bras, sunglasses, remote controls (who buys these?), and food.  We found the elegant Manaus Opera House, about a 10-minute walk from the ship.  Standing outside in the heat, we were sweating and panting as if we had just done hard labor.  We continued exploring until we found a piercing place where my friend Cari added a few aesthetic holes in her face.  The streets were concave and the gutters on the sides were so deep that we had to jump to get from street to sidewalk.  There were open sewers along many streets, and the smell hit you before you saw it.  We went in search of a crafts market, but just found more of the same booths as before, so we went to the other side of the city to the major shopping malls instead.  Again, we found no tourist gear, but we bided our time in the air conditioning for as long as we could.  By mid-afternoon, we were all heavily dehydrated and developing headaches.

Day 90 - Shipboard Community Talent Show

Something was off today; we woke up and our cabins were filled with a smoky smell.  It was just about unbearable to breathe, but luckily the smell was only in our cabins and not elsewhere.  One look outside told us the reason: we had entered the Amazon today.  It was strange to see land on either side of the ship, and focusing in class was harder than ever as we watched out the window how our giant vessel maneuvered uncomfortably close past small fishing boats.  We were warned that we would have to conserve water because the Amazon River was not filterable; indeed, it was a bright brown, and for once no one was tempting to jump off the ship for a swim.  During our trek down the river, the ship would not be generating fresh water, so we had to be careful not to be wasteful, i.e. no laundry or showers.

The much-anticipated student talent show was tonight.  We only lined up an hour in advance this time, not that you could find any seats when you got in anyway.  The show lasted several hours – there’s a lot of talent on board!  My favorite act was, naturally, the Bollywood dance.

Day 88 - Crew Talent Show

The crew that is usually hidden from us and under strict rule of interaction with students finally surfaced and performed for us.  We were so excited that students began lining up an hour and a half before the show.  They performances were great…well, I’m not sure how I felt about the Indian comedian…and we got to see our kitchen and dining staff, our housekeeping staff, and staff we’ve never seen before shaking it on stage.

Day 87 - At Sea

At 2 am, about a third of the shipboard community woke up and scurried up to the 7^th and 8^th decks where the deck lights were put out so we could watch the Leonid meteor shower.  Every few minutes, a meteor would streak across the sky and leave a lingering white trail.  My astronomy professor was out showing us various constellations and bright stars and pointing out ever-elusive Southern Cross when it rose above the horizon.  I remember thinking there could be no better place to be at that moment than exactly where we were in the middle of the ocean.

In the evening we had a shipboard auction to raise money for SAS.  At first we were all outraged at the high tuition costs, but after such an amazing experience and finding out that addition donor money is needed to fund our journey, we were more willing to give.  There was both a silent auction and a live auction, and the items were anything from chocolates picked up in various countries to having someone pack your bags for you to the captain’s hat.  The big shock of the evening came when a battle broke out between two students intent on getting the map of our voyage.  They fought bitterly, and it finally went for $2,600.  Don’t ask where they got the money.

Day 83 - Rio de Janeiro

We started the day by visiting the other side of Rio: the favelas.  Favelas are slum villages built up the mountains surrounding the city.  They often have a dire shortage of clean water, sanitation, education, and government involvement, and are generally ruled by the drug lords.  There are a few “pacified” favelas that have been cleaned up by increased police presence and are relatively safe for tourists, given they have a proper guide.  These are the minority.

We drove through several favelas, including Santa Marta and Provincia.  Our first stop was a few steep streets up the hill.  Our driver let us out to walk around, but he drove himself down the street a ways where it was safer.  How do you like that!  We were mostly fascinated with the electrical poles.  The favelas often illegally usurp the electrical wires, and the poles look like a sort of high-tech medusa – and a major fire hazard.  A woman peered her head out the window and after seeing us immediately asked if we were lost.  Nic used his Portuguese skills to say that he was an engineering student studying electrical systems.  As far as I could tell, she believed him.  We found our driver quite far away and later stopped at a gas station.  The driver told us to put our cameras away because there were many drug dealers in the area and cameras make them nervous.

We continued to salvage the rainy day by dining out.  We by chance found a buffet-style restaurant where you pay for your food by the kilogram.  I loaded up on all kinds of foods that I have never seen before – and actually liked everything!  Look for new foreign cuisine in my house after I get home!  We finished the day with a happy, hearty pillage of the dessert buffet.

Day 82 - Rio de Janeiro

Beach day!  But first, we had to find money.  Yesterday we discovered that Rio de Janeiro’s ATM’s are very picky about which cards they take.  Many only take their own bank’s cards, and none take American Express (what I have).  We walked 20 minutes down a main street, turning down bank after bank that we had already tried the day before.  We finally found one (an HSBC) that took Nic’s card, and with that we set off for Copacabana.

At the beach we undressed in our, for the first time ever, relatively conservative beach wear.  We sunk our feet in the sand, which is unbelievably soft and fine and conforms perfectly to the shape of your foot better that any NASA memory foam ever could.  We dipped our feet in the ocean – but went no further; the water was freezing.  We retreated to our towels and lay out to tan.  Every few minutes, the gusts of wind would rise into a small dust storm, blowing sand into our bags, into our hair, and onto our bodies until it hurt.  We weren't even wet, but the sand found a way to stick to our bodies and wouldn’t let go.  Putting on sunscreen turned into intense exfoliation.  Instead of absorbing into our skin, it would just wad up into a little sunscreen-sand dirt ball.  We held out for as long as we could, but the heat and sandstorms compelled us to keep moving.

We got up and walked along the boardwalk, carrying a kilo of sand with us.  We bought more coconuts.  We struggled to find a place to eat.  While the boardwalk is littered with food stands, we were looking for a legit, indoor restaurant, which was nowhere to be found.  We had to walk far away from the beach into a different neighborhood to find a decent café.  At the café, I finally got to order a mate!  I had been reading that mate is the traditional drink in Argentina and Uruguay, but no place seems to serve it.  At last, in Rio, I saw mate on the menu – actually matte (pronounced mache) in Brazil.  It was served cold instead of hot, and we found it so delicious that we made our waiter laugh.

After lunch, I spent about ten futile minutes in the bathroom trying to shake off the sand from my face and neck and arms and ears and hair.

Afterward, we went in the direction of another beach (Rio is literally lined with them) and found a little – actually it was quite large – cove right off the urban center.  We walked all the way along the beach – it took us almost an hour.  Meanwhile, we watched the weather change to stormy, so when we reached the end of the beach, we took a cab home.

We took a break on the ship to eat dinner and shower the sand away, then set out for Rio nightlife!  Our friend met some locals who gave us the names of a couple places that would be fun on a Monday night.  The main bar district, Lapa, was not very far; we ran across it by accident while searching for a bank earlier.  Nonetheless, all the warnings in pre-port caught up to us and we didn’t want to be caught walking the streets at night.  There were taxis all over the terminal eager for our business, and one offered us a fixed price fair (not recommended).  We were about to get in, but at the last minute the cheapskate in me broke through, and I was determined to get a better price with a metered taxi.

So we found ourselves walking the streets at night.  Nic asked another taxi driver we ran across, who told us that the place we were looking for was actually very close, just down a couple streets and over there.  He pointed us toward the shadiest looking alleyways.  We cautiously followed his directions, on edge, constantly looking over our shoulders, and ready to turn back at any instant.  The walk down the creepy side streets seemed to take forever, but it must have really been about five minutes before we heard the loud music.  The place we found was actually a massive group of people spreading out into the streets with a live band in the center.  There were stands selling beer and shish kebabs and other foods.  No one was dancing, not even a little, but it was a really cool and chill environment.  Plus there were shish kebabs!

We took it all in and decided to explore some of the other places on our list.  Walking back the streets no longer scary, they were familiar.  We were having a chill night and walking in high spirits when BAM there was a loud noise, like thunder in gigantic proportions.  I thought it was the apocalypse or something or who knows what went through my mind. When the noise stopped, I found that I had been clutching Abby.  The men sitting in the café behind us were laughing.  It seems it was a controlled explosion from a nearby construction site.  We pulled ourselves together and carried on.

At some point, Nic stubbed his toe, and it was cut open pretty far and bleeding.  We were so close to the ship that we decided to take him back to get it cleaned up and pick up a Band-Aid.  We stopped in at the clinic right next to the gangway, and they insisted the cut was more severe and it needed to be bandaged and he had to go shower now because it couldn’t get wet after.  Nic still wanted to go out and kept insisting that he didn’t need a shower then a loud noise and everyone rushing and Nic was on the floor.  I felt so dumbstruck and stupid in that moment.  I had taken all these classes to build up a medical background and I couldn’t even figure out how to flip him over.  Within seconds he was awake, wide-eyed and confused.  The nurses insisted he fainted at the sight of blood, which was simply false.  The clinic detained him, but sent Abby and me away.  We were so jittery that any little thing fried our nerves.  Abby accidentally banged a mug against the railing and the sound it made was enough to make us jump.  We saw a friend of ours in the hall and she tripped over a partition between carpets and we thought everyone around us was doomed.  We ended up staying in and watched Friends for the night just for a little bit of normalcy.

Day 81 - Rio de Janeiro

Even before arriving in Rio, things were different.  Only ship crew had the proper work permits to continue working, and getting caught would mean a R$2000 fine and deportation, so the faculty and staff began a three-day long vacation.

Waking up and having breakfast while docked in Rio was exciting in itself.  I was stuffing myself full of carbs for the day, and it looked like it was going to be a beautiful day.  Then the clouds parted and the sun scorched right through our skin.  It was HOT.

When the ship was cleared, we fled to the Sunday Fair at Ipanema.  If you’ve ever heard of Ipanema and Copacabana (likely from the songs The Girl from Ipanema and At the Copa), but never knew what or where they were, I can now tell you they are lavish beach districts adjacent to each other in Rio de Janeiro.  The drive through the city gave us our first impression of Rio, which was that it was an amazing creation of nature and urbanization.  At some point, we drove through a long, long tunnel, and I had enough time to think about and realize that we were driving through a mountain.  We exited the other end into the most beautiful region you could ever hope to see.

We checked out the Ipanema fair, then we checked out Ipanema beach.  And what a beach it was!  The ocean was flanked by large rock structures or mountains, and the boardwalk was lined with cafés and stands selling coconuts you can drink out of with a straw.  Yes, we may have bought one or two.  The women are all in thongs, which we affectionately call butt floss, and the men all wear speedos, which, as a rule, are one size two small and always show crack.

We took it all it, then ran off to Corcovado, the mountain on which Cristo Redentor (Christ the Redeemer) stands.  We had to take two different vans and climb hills and stairs to get to the top, but we were well rewarded.  The statue was immense, but the crowd was more so.  I couldn’t take a step in any direction without getting in the way of someone’s photo.  The best photo to take was standing up on the ledge in front of the statue, and Abby and I managed to get a couple shots before a safety officer started blowing the whistle on people.  The view was, without saying, spectacular, and we could clearly see the mountains of Sugarloaf, though I didn’t know at the time what they were or that we would soon be on top of them.

Sugarloaf was our next stop, and we patiently withstood the sun’s heat while waiting in line to buy tickets for the cable car.  Before we knew it, we were on the first of the two mountains, overlooking the city below and Corcovado in the distance.  There was a large platform set up atop the mountain, complete with café, gift shop, and a helipad where helicopters were continuously coming and going.  We moved on to the second mountain via another cable car, and from there the first mountain looked tiny!  There were more cafés and gift shops, and a small building dedicated to 100 years of Sugarloaf tourism.  We got our pictures taken with a personal message, so look for us on the website!

We returned to the ship to regroup and finished the night off with a hotel party in Copacabana.  From the windows we could see Cristo Redentor all lit up on top of the blackness of the mountain, so he looked like he was floating in midair.

Day 78 - Montevideo

Wi-fi, all day long.

Day 77 - Punta del Este

 I set out on a two-hour trip to the beach city of Punta del Este.  The tour stopped at a hotel with cool architecture and spectacular views, as well as a sculpture garden of modern art.  The heart of the city was famous for the modern art sculpture of fingers reaching out of the main beach, representing unity of the five continents.

Back in Montevideo, a bunch of us met up to watch the sunset on a hill by the beach and go to dinner afterward.  We made it to the hill and found a place to settle down 5 minutes before sunset, but as soon as we stopped moving – or even slowed down – at least 20 mosquitos would land on us and start feasting.  We looked at the sunset for about 10 seconds, then skedaddled to dinner.

But the main event of the day centered around my good friend Zach. I only saw him briefly in the morning, but the scratches and bandages all over his face left an impression that lasted the entire day. The night before, he ran after a drunk girl who stumbled out of a hotel where a bunch of SASers were partying. He caught up to her and decided to escort her back to the ship. Eight blocks away from safety, two guys showed up and hit Zach over the head with a bottle until it broke. Though probably near unconsciousness, he forced himself to get up to protect the girl, which must have scared the guys and they ran off. He hid the girl, who was still too drunk to walk, much less run, and booked it to the ship to call for help. The police found the girl unharmed, and, a lot of motherly attention and 15 stitches later, Zach was ok, too, though badly beat up. For the next couple days, I would have to get in line whenever I wanted to talk to him. Nobody curbed their drinking habits, though.

Day 76 - Montevideo

 

Woke up in a new country today!

Montevideo was very tourist friendly, with walking paths for tourists clearly outlined.  We explored the Old City, by which we were docked.  It took about 20 minutes to walk the entire area.  There was a pedestrian shopping street, but many of the stands did not start setting up until after 10 am, so there was not much to see or do.  We wandered into the new part of the city, but it was much of the same.  We walked to the point labeled “Panoramic View” on our map.  There was nothing but a large (and unattractive) building.  We stopped for help at a tourism booth, and they told us the view was from the top of the building, and it was closed because the lift was broken.

We tried walking along the beach instead.  The body of water looked large enough to be ocean, but it was actually an enormous river.  It didn’t meet the ocean until Punta del Este, about 2 hours away.  The water was deep brown, though it didn’t discourage the locals from swimming in it.  Later, we came across a park with a small pond that was as green as the grass.  No one was swimming there.  For lack of ideas, we visited the shopping mall, which used to be a prison.

Day 75 - Buenos Aires

Field trip!  My entrepreneurship class visited a couple NGOs supported by HelpArgentina, an “NGO accelerator.”  Our first stop was Los Naranjos.  Here, a woman took kids off the street at 18, when the children’s homes would kick them out with no skills, and taught them how to make pottery.  The pottery was not as important as simply giving the kids structure and instilling a work ethic.  Getting them to show up for four hours of work per day and staying off drugs was the major accomplishment.  The business was very successful, and they could not keep up with demand.

Our next stop was Andar, which began as a soccer program for disabled people.  The program has greatly expanded, and has extensive facilities.  The main business now is catering (they catered our lunch), which started as a bakery with one archaic mud oven.  They offer sports many different sports, as well as programs for development of art, culture, recycling, and sustainability.

I was especially sad to leave Buenos Aires this evening.  We left during a beautiful sunset over the city, and no photos could capture all the colors.  As soon as the sun disappeared, the mosquitos arrived.  Shortly thereafter, huge dragonflies appeared to eat the mosquitos.  They hung around the lights and doorways, blocking the entrance inside.  I finally gathered my courage and used a large guy nearby as a shield to enter.  They were everywhere!  I ran through the entire dragonfly-infested dining room to safety, and avoided the back half of the ship for the rest of the night.

Day 74 - Buenos Aires

By this point, everyone is covered in bug bites; the Argentinian mosquitos are merciless.  While we had no troubles in Africa, we are itching away in South America.

Today we finally figured out the subway system.  We made it back to San Telmo to shop at the Sunday fair.  It was far from what we expected.  It was a flea market so packed with tourists we could barely walk.  The merchandise was antique, and vendors were eager to delay tourists at their stands.  There were many locals dressed up in costumes like monsters, brides, and cartoon characters for tourists to take photos.  As soon as we found room to move, we got ourselves out of there.

We took the subway to the other side of the city.  I learned the hard way why the locals wear their backpacks in front of them.  We got out in the Palermo neighborhood, a very rich area.  Walking the streets was a joy.  All of the buildings were beautiful, and we would be happy to live in any one of them.  We passed through the Botanical Gardens (free!) and the spacious green parks scattered throughout.  We walked back to Recoleta and the market we had liked so much before, and stocked up on dulce de leche at the grocery store before returning home.

Day 73 - Buenos Aires

Another glorious day in Buenos Aires!

Over breakfasts, I heard many complaints from students who had just gotten back that the clubs were dead until 4 am.  Most events don’t open until midnight.

Abby and I started the day by visiting the pharmacy, which was quite an adventure without Nic’s Spanish skills.  Many hand gestures and crude drawings on the backs of receipts later, and we got ahold of over-the-counter antibiotics.

Abby and I hit up the Japanese Gardens, the MALBA (modern art museum), and made it to the Planetarium in time for a star show (in Spanish).  We crossed over into the majestic rose gardens and walked through parks that stretched as far as the eye could see.  We took a break at an ice cream store, where we accidentally ordered half a kilo of ice cream and ate it all.

We walked the streets of Recoleta and stumbled into an outdoor market.  We later found out we were right across from the cemetery again.  After satisfying our shopping cravings, we set off for a tango show we picked out on the wi-fi at the ice cream store. 

When we arrived at Café Tortoni, there was a line to enter, and the doorman told us about the shows they were offering.  There were two, and we wanted to get into a larger show (the better one, according to the doorman), but there may not have been room.  After reaching the front of the queue, the doorman told us to convince the manager to let us in.  The manager approached and asked why we wanted to see that show.  He didn’t give us time to make an argument, and walked back and forth past us with other customers without so much as a glance.

Finally, he told us to follow, and led us to the basement theater.  When asked for our reservations, he said we were with him.  While we were waiting to be shown to our seats, he asked how old we were.  We told him, and he shook his head dejectedly, “Nah, I’m too old.”  He asked if I wanted a compliment, and I of course said yes, so he took my hand, kissed it, and said, “I am in love with you.”  And with that he left, and we were shown to our table.

The theater was small, and the show was intimate.  We couldn’t imagine what the smaller show must have been like.  The first scene opened in a brothel, to be expected considering tango originated as a sport for men to compete for the most beautiful prostitute.  The dancing was, without saying, incredible, but so, too, were the singing, the acting, the tap dancing, and other elements whose names I don’t know.  On our way out, we passed the manager again, who was suddenly overjoyed with us and gave me a long hug.  The hug lasted so long that he whispered in my ear, “What do we do now?”  We eventually parted, and a waiter slipped us some chocolates as we walked out.

Day 72 - Buenos Aires

It was a beautiful day to arrive in Buenos Aires!  Our first challenge was crossing the streets between the port and the city.  Buenos Aires is a massive city of 11 million people, and its streets are proportionally large, sometimes 10 lanes in one direction.  Just outside the city, we got stuck at an intersection that never seemed to turn green for us – or rather, white in Argentina.  A group of a hundred or so of us, fresh off the ship and impatient from 10 days at sea, jaywalked full on into traffic, not minding the consequences.

We finally made it to the city!  We walked the wide streets past massive buildings.  It looked like the city had been supersized.  The only thing that was not imposing was Plaza de Mayo, one of the main squares.  It was a modest yard with some fountains, and it was right next to the Pink House (Casa Rosado), the Argentinian equivalent of the White House.

At this point, Abby, Nic, and I split from the rest of our sluggish group, who got distracted by a sale sign in some store.  We found a place to eat, and we were very grateful to have Nic, for whom Spanish was among his repertoire of languages.  After lunch, we made our way toward El Ateneo, an opera house converted into a bookstore.  We walked to the other side of the city, crossing the main road, Cerrito, which must have been about 20 lanes across.

The bookstore was gorgeous!  There were tiers and balconies full of books, angels painted on the ceiling, reading areas in the booths, and a café on the stage.  We took it all in and browsed the books, all in Spanish.  We left and called for a taxi to take us to the Recoleta Cemetary, but found out that it was only three blocks away (Nic had given away our only map when the group split).

Inside the cemetery it was quiet and peaceful.  We walked along rows – neighborhoods, rather – of large mausoleums housing the dead.  We peaked inside and found little altars, and many of them had narrow staircases that led down to I can’t imagine what.  Some of them were marble and clean and quite lavish, while others were neglected and covered with dust and quite creepy.  We came across mausoleums with a couple coffins, presumably a husband and wife, and then we found crypts with stacks and stacks of coffins.  In one, the whole rotary club was housed together in a deep, creepy, dusty chamber where all three walls were shelves of coffins.  But mostly it was a very beautiful and serene space.  We kept asking around for Eva Peron’s grave, but she was very hard to find.  We had to wait for a tour group to arrive and followed close.  She is in her family mausoleum under her family name Duarte, a relatively inconspicuous structure.

Back in the din of the city, we wandered around aimlessly until we found a magical tree.  The trees in Buenos Aires are something special, with their massive roots extending well above the ground and their branches growing horizontally.  Perfect for climbing.

After climbing down the tree, we found an art museum right across the street: the Palais de Glace.  Free admission, so in we went!  Much of the art was pretty weird, but there was a great piece comprised of several Samsung flatscreen TVs.  They were scenes of nature, but if you looked closely, you could find little Samsung billboards peaking over the hillside.  Gradually, the scenes developed into villages, then cities, a cruise ship sailed from screen to screen, the lights dimmed at night, the seasons changed, and then the whole thing undid itself and returned to its original state.

We continued walking along a main road, hopefully one that would lead us to food.  On our way, we stumbled upon the Floralis Genérica, a giant steel flower whose petals would open at dawn and close at night.  However, this mechanism was disabled to prevent damage when their insurance company was socialized.

We walked a long distance before finding promising side streets, and tired and hungry we found a place to eat.  Nic schmoozed with the waiter in Spanish for a bit, buy Abby and I understood all the compliments.  From dinner, we caught a cab to San Telmo, the tango district.  The waiter had recommended us a venue, but when we arrived, we found out that night they had only music, no dancing show.  We decided to try again another night, and, wanting to spare another cab fare home, decided to walk back to the ship.  Turns out Recoleta was not so far from our floating hotel, but the walk from San Telmo was egregious.  We again walked past the Pink House, and at night it was lit up by bright pink lights.  An hour and a half later we entered the Zona Puerta, but it was still a long walk for our aching feet until the entrance to our port.

By the time we got on the ship, we could barely walk.  We split to throw away our shoes, then met up again in the Union to put Nic to bed.  He had to meet his trip at 3:30 am to fly out to Patagonia.  He brought his bedding and made a nest in the auditorium seats.  Halfway through one episode of Friends, he was in deep sleep, and I made a sign that said, “PLEASE WAKE UP SLEEPYHEAD FOR PATAGONIA” and put it on top of him before I left for bed myself.