The Tomb and Other Things

I have now been in Buenos Aires for a full week.  If I haven't said it already, it is quite a change from Rosario.  The city seems to be a mass expanse of roads and buildings that slowly transforms into "neighborhoods".  But do not be deceived, these neighborhoods are not your cozy little two or three bedroom homes surrounded by a bright yard of green grass containing an oak tree in the front and a swing-set in the back.  No, they are small houses smashed up against one another, complete only with a stone courtyard of sorts on which to have an Asado.  (That part I really like!)  All in all, it's the difference between living in NYC and the suburbs of Houston.  But, the suburbs do have picturesque cobblestone roads that are pleasant enough.

I should let you know that I have been staying with a very hospitable family in the suburb of Lomas since I have moved from Rosario.  The family consists of Cecilia, the mother, Nicolás, the eldest son, and Joachin, the youngest son.  Cecilia teaches private English classes at several different businesses around BsAs, and I have accompanied her on a couple of occasions to give her students some experience speaking with a native English speaker.  Joachin has kindly given up his room for me, and Nicolás (who is only a year younger than me) has invited me to hang out with he and his friends.  They are very friendly, and I am glad to have found such pleasant hosts.

Now, on to the main event: This past Monday I had planned to go into the city to visit the Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes (the Fine Arts Museum).  Unfortunately, I missed a memo or something and discovered that the museum, and in fact most museums I was told, was closed on Mondays.  So, what better to do when your plans are thwarted than to visit the local cemetery.  (The picture of a large metal flower that you see at the end of this post was created by a famous Argentine architect and is in a park near the Museo -- it opens and closes with the sunlight)

Of course, this was not your run of the mill cemetery.  The Recoleta Cemetery holds the remains of some of the most famous people in Argentine history: Pellegrini, Mitre, and -- who was it that doesn't want Argentina to cry -- oh yeah, Evita.  It was a strange feeling walking around such massive tombs, many quite ornate but still succumbing to the passing of time.  Juxtaposed with this sombre, reverential aire were hundreds of tourists chatting, laughing, taking pictures with arms around graves.  

Typically I have some aversion to taking pictures of certain things or in certain situations.  For instance, no matter how beautiful or famous, I do not like taking pictures in cathedrals.  First of all, it is quite irreverent, and secondly, the picture only serves to degrade the magnificence of a more magnificent beauty of memory in the future.  Cemeteries fall into a similar category for me; however, I did eventually decided to take a few snapshots despite my moral objections.  And Evita's tomb...not that impressive.

Chau.