At 3 de morning, as it should (our heroes not like conventional times), we landed in Buenos Aires. The heat struck our faces with an unexpected power tanning bed ... so much so that now we burn.
An unofficial taxi driver (in homage all'anticonvenzionalismo group) accompanied us in the night, one of the greatest avenues in the world (Av 9 de Julio) and buildings looking West, to our favorite hostel, close to Avenida de Mayo and Avenida Corrientes, the birthplace of the tango in the early twentieth century.
The problem of electrical outlets was soon solved:
Having to wander until the time of entry, the four zainonieri finally made a hearty breakfast (every meal would be rich now on .. sic!) Based on the good old coffee, croissants with Delicious dulce de leche , and other delicacies that rodents will leave to the imagination of our readers ..! It is important to remember that Argentina is NOT a land of vegetarians ... but for diehard carnivores.
Suddenly, we were catapulted into the square of squares, the one which saw bloody clashes, violent protests, especially one that saw the mothers of screaming their pain disappeared in the eighties.
Against Torture, segregation, the disappearance of their children by a ruthless military government that made 30,000 people disappear into thin air.
Right on the Plaza de Mayo, stumbled on the first day in a protest by state workers and not march against the mass dismissals.
I love the fortitude, the will to camp to demand their rights, the voice of hundreds of people together they sing: enough. Because in Italy this item is feeble feeble? Let's grow.
would have to complain too cartoneros , one of the scourges of extreme poverty argentina European woman (now on the rise after the bankruptcy incrediBBoli 2002). Alone, dirty, marginalized, pushing carts full of cardboard to be recycled for resale. They are the lowest caste of society, the last of the unwelcome: they are the ones that move at night on trains for them only in order to make them more invisiBBoli, not to mix them with other Argentines. Wander like ghosts in the crowded streets at times, in deserted streets instead. There is a train just for them, the train of segregation, ironically called "tren blanco", which can go with their cargo at night. They have nothing: just cardboard and a cart.
passed the emotion of the protest, we found ourselves for the evening in San Telmo neighborhood of artists and tradition. The one where every corner popping heels and legs intertwined wrapped in fishnet stockings, while the music, as they say in a song Gotan Project, encendió nuestra pasión. And 'here that we discover little by little what is Argentina ...
Argentina is Music!
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Argentina is color!
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Argentina is Passion.
... more or less like this:
.. more ...
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