Buenos Aires, the city that never sleeps!

Buenos Aires, the city that never sleeps. We went to a restaurant last night, the Cabrera at 8 pm when it opened, and there was already a waiting line and would not buy that we had made reservations. At first blush, I thought it was a ploy to get a groundswell of customers and build up the hype but guess what, it was real. When we came back 30 minutes later every seat in the house was full and this was a Monday night! After dinner, we decided to go dancing or at least see what these tango halls were all about, so at 10 we went to an Armenian, of all things, milonga and you know what? It was crowded with dancers and it was not even about to begin, really. There was a lesson until 11 pm, then free dancing till about one, then a show with singers and dancers. I suppose people get home about three begging the question of whether they go to work or not the next day, and if they do go to work at what time?

We just took a walk yesterday down Sante Fe Avenue and Sylvia dropped in to buy a bathing suit. The guy just happened to be a Sephardic Jew from Lebanon who has been living here for fourteen years. He says there are no Jews left in Lebanon or anywhere else in the Middle East, quickly putting a lie to any Arab propaganda about how Jews are being treated in the Middle East. Of course, in Israel there are Arabs in the Knesset, Arabs that have jobs and of course, Arabs that are Israeli citizens. Wouldn’t it be nice to say that Jews were treated the same anywhere in the Middle East as Arabs are treated in Israel. Sadly this is not the case because there are no Jews left in any Arab country, at least who would openly call themselves Jews.

Talking about politics, whenever there is any political gathering, it all happens at Plaza de Mayo. Of course, no-one knew what I was talking about when I said Playa de Mayo because it is pronounced Majo but we eventually found it and true to form, there were various groups of people protesting a variety of things from the War in the Falklands to lost soldiers. On Thursdays, mothers and grandmothers from the dirty war of the l980’s still come out to protest their lost children. I was amazed to see how a protest developed. I watched one group get off the bus, get their drums pounding away until a reporter told them to keep quiet so she could do the proverbial interview, then they all disappeared immediately after the interview. A media event par excellence. They have it down to a science.
All around the Plaza de Mayo, by the way, are buildings in a variety of styles from colonial to modern, including the balcony where Eva Peron did her shtick in the pink building. There was a neo classical church, a colonial city hall, and some modern buildings that house government employees.

To-day we did the shopping thing in the Pacifico Mall which was unbelievable in its ornateness. One would think we were in the Vatican or somewhere. Sylvia was fascinated with the shoe selection and when we went out to the walking street, Avenue Florida, we must have entered into dozens of shoe stores, or so it seemed. The downtown was teeming with people which we were certainly not used to seeing in Chile, even in Santiago. We are just going to go to sleep now for a few hours so we can wake up later and tango away the night!