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.