1587 Notes from Buenos Aires 12
Date: Thu, 24 Jul 2003 23:28:10 -0500
From: Rick McGarrey <RICKMCG@FLASH.NET>
Subject: Notes from Buenos Aires 12
We are back from a week in Uruguay, tanned, rested,
and ready to resume reporting on tango and tourism in
Greater Buenos Aires and suburbs. This report is
about a very very far suburb.
Uruguay. Friday, July 18. "Where is everybody?"
(Part 1 of 2)
We arrived Friday evening on the Buquebus hydrofoil
boat from BsAs, and the contrast with the 24 hour
raucous party and automobile demolition derby that is
Buenos Aires was immediately apparent. The streets of
central Montevideo seemed practically deserted.
There were almost no cars, and almost no pedestrians.
We saw the same beautiful old buildings BsAs has, but
no one was around. We were shuttled to a big hotel on
the main plaza that was almost empty. They advertise
Montevideo as the safest city in the world, and it
may be true. A career in street crime must be
difficult when there is no one to rob. Also the few
people we did see were old, and the 60-70 year old
demographic is not heavily populated with armed
robbers.
After an unsuccessful search for a Friday night
milonga, and dinner in an empty parilla, we called it
a night. The next day was sunny and breezy and we
strolled the city, sin rumbo fijo. I saw some
soldiers in the main plaza wearing ceremonial
Granadero
uniforms, the colorful dress cavalry uniforms of the
old days. I decided to use Alejandra's camera to take
a picture of them in their tall hats, guarding a huge
statue a general on a horse with a pigeon on his
head. When I got closer, they snapped to attention,
and watched me out of the corner's of their eyes while
I took the shot. Then, when I turned and left, they
resumed chatting and looking around the plaza like any
group of teenage boys hanging out and looking for
girls. Which they were. This relaxed attitude
seemed to be everywhere, in sharp contrast to the edgy
nervousness of Buenos Aires. We walked along the sea
wall and watched the commercial shipping come and go.
On this quiet Saturday in the old central part of
town,
reasonably affluent Montevideo had the appearance of
an economic backwater that has been isolated under the
thumb of some eccentric dictator. Along the water
front there are broad avenues with almost no
traffic. Occasionally a smoking 55 Chevy or ancient
Fiat or Renault would come putt-putting by with the
occupants peering curiously out of the side windows at
the world drifting slowly by. The residents are very
friendly, but despite constantly sucking on mate
gourds, which should wake them up, they have a
dreamy, almost addled, 'no worries' attitude. This is
a real change from the energetic portenos, but it's
rather nice. Later in the day we rolled leisurely
down their main street (18 de Julio) on a city bus,
while the relaxed driver listened to opera, and
carefully stopped mid-block to pick up little old
ladies. He sipped mate and chatted to us about
wanting to be in BsAs, where the action was. A
similar ride in BsAs on collectivo 12 (el doce) is a
Mr. Toad's wild ride, threading the needle between
taxis and trucks, with pedestrians diving for cover.
A friend of mine was almost killed when a hurrying bus
driver clamped the rear door shut on his foot before
he could step down. He was dragged down the street,
watching the rear wheel rolling inches from his head,
until the screams of the passengers finally stopped
the driver. But Montevideo is so safe and tranquil
that I even saw bicycles parked around town without
locks on them.
(End of part 1. Part 2 continues in
Notes from Buenos Aires 13)
