Floralis Generica

Yesterday, we left Eve to sleep -- she has an awful cold -- and went on what I like to call (and which sometimes provokes groans) "excursions." It was a simple but enjoyable one: we hopped on the bus and zipped down Libertador (named after San Martin, whose holiday we enjoyed last Monday) to Recoleta to see an amazing piece of outdoor art, the Floralis Generica, by Eduardo Catalano, a 2002 homage to the city. It is quite spectacular, and that's without even seeing the opening and closing of the flower, which takes place at dawn and dusk.

The flower itself is stunning, but the whole experience was made a bit bizarre by the art installation that covered the entire park in which it is set: it consisted of two different images of scantily-clad women -- dancers or actresses from the 1960s? -- reproduced hundreds of times on cartboard and distributed all around the flower and, as you can see, in the pool in which the flower sits. I will investigate and find out what this was all about it.

The context of the flower is also fascinating. Immediately next to it is the Facultad Derecho -- the law school. It is a 1949 neo-classical (neo-Nazi?) building, dark and brooding, with Doric columns and a long, wide, desolate staircase leading up its entrance. I don't believe this was Catalano's intent, but the opening and closing of the flower seems an apt symbol for the opening and closing of the law, and of justice, over the course of the history of Argentina. A different set of comments about the law school are made on the bridge over Av. Alcorta that one must walk to get to the school. there were graffitti about socialist revolution, portraits of Che, a series of portraits of students (law students, I believe) who were taken away and murdered during the 1970s -- the desaparecidos.

We walked to a nearby restaurant that had been recommended by one our guidebooks and it was great (two for two for this Knopf "mapguide") -- El Sanjuanino. Jonah insists that their choclo (i.e. corn -- no one says maiz) empanadas are the best we've had, and indeed, the restaurant is known for them.

We walked over to the Plaza across the way and "participated" (i.e. spent "mucho platas," as my Spanish teacher kept saying -- lots of silver) in the weekend arts and crafts fair. Along with a belt (absolutely needed!) for me, and a necklace for Eve, you can see the little paper animals the kids got, all made out of Subte cards (with the occasional magazine ad included)! We also had doughtnuts with dulce de leche inside, and a churro filled with the same. Life could be worse, but not much better.

We took a different bus back -- the speed with which they drive and turn and stop makes this more of an amusement park ride than a bus ride -- and relaxed at home. We have been actively hoarding our coins, because, as you may have read recently, there is a coin shortage here. Coins are absolutely essential because most people move around via the colectivos -- the literally 792 different bus lines (no kidding -- I have a booklet that lists every single one of their routes)...and colectivos only take coins (the Subte takes all kinds of money and allows you to buy an electronic card). For no good reason -- some say the federal government wants to make the mayor of Buenos Aires look bad -- there are not enough coins. I am regularly asked for coins in a store or restaurant if the bill is, say, $10.25. And as often as not, we will be given more money back (i.e. in paper money) rather than give us precious change.

Off now to the Sunday fair in San Telmo....