Yanquis in Latin America: Buenos Aires pt. 2

I am looking back now, at the end of two weeks of travel and recounting the events that transpired...

Day Twelve: I was determined upon awaking to actually find Vanessa that day, since our planned meeting in Plaza de Mayo the day before had been a failure. She told me that she and her friend would be in Recoleta Cemetery, around noon, and I found that we could walk there from the hostel. Thus, after rousing BT and Chris, we set forth under beautiful, clear, sunny skies. The weather that day was the polar opposite of the previous, and I could not have hoped for better.

After our brisk walk, we arrived at the cemetery and were immediately wowed by its grandeur. For a place filled with dead people, it was quite splendid. Recoleta Cemetery is filled with the bones (maybe) of many famous Argentinians, not least of which being Eva Peron. Her tomb, however, was quite underwhelming considering her enduring popularity. The place was huge, and we were once again late, and I had all but given up on the idea of finding Vanessa a second time when suddenly, as we were eavesdropping on a tour group, I heard my name called out. I turned to find Vanessa waving. She was with her friend Lauren along with Sarah, Marie, Greg, and Jeff. I wondered in that moment if so many volunteer English teachers from Chile had ever gathered together in that place, or any such place filled with so many corpses.

By the time we found Vanessa and Lauren, it was time to eat (especially given the fact that we had not eaten breakfast.) However, Sarah and the others still wanted to explore the cemetery. Thus it was agreed we would meet back up at the hostel later that night. Lauren, who is currently a student in BA and well acquainted with the city, led us out past the expensive touristy restaurants around the cemetery and to a nice, typical Argentine cafe sporting a cheap set menu. Brandon pretty much fell asleep at lunch and we decided we didn't want his dead weight around, and so stuck him in a cab and sent him off. The rest of us (me, Chris, Vanessa, and Lauren) went back to the park near the cemetery to meet up with Lauren's Argentine friend who would then accompany us to the Bella Arte museum (a famous art museum.) However, by the time the friend showed up, the plan had changed and we went off to a museum of photo journalism. The Argentine girl, whose name escapes me, didn't speak English but, oddly enough, was fluent in Norwegian. The museum was interesting, and free, but after about an hour there Chris and I decided we'd seen enough photos and bid the girls farewell to head back to the hostel where Vanessa said she would meet us later.

--Ah yes, Mr. Craft. Look at this photo. It's very cultural.
--Indeed.

Chris and I decided to walk back, enjoying further the excellent weather as the sun slowly set on Buenos Aires. We found Brandon still asleep in his bed and decided to join him in the exercise. I was later awakened by the hosteler telling me my amiga had arrived. It was Vanessa, who was flushed from the walk having accidentally passed the hostel and gone about a half mile out of the way before realizing the mistake. In her defense, there was no real sign on the hostel, just some graffiti that spelled the name "Old Friends." Sarah was supposed to meet us there, according to the plans she had made with Vanessa, but she never showed. Thus, Lauren came by to join us (she had been in some sort of singing practice for school) and we ended up ordering out for Argentine pizza and empandas. I know I have mentioned the fact already, but it bears repeating: empanadas in Argentina are much better than in Chile. However, the pizza was about the same (though, later that week I would finally try Chile's Telepizza, and I found it satisfying and very much on par with delivery in the states. More on that later.)