A Sunday along the Rio de la Plata: nature, chori, and bosta

Sunday has got to be the best day of the week in Buenos Aires.

The normally busy streets and avenues empty as a mass evacuation occurs. Hordes of Porteños flee the craziness of the city and search for refuge amidst the quiet of their weekend homes in the countryside. Those of us who don't have a "country" (a "weekend home" in Porteño) find peace and green (and maybe even Greenpeace — if their volunteers are out in full force informing us about the crimes of humanity against nature…) in the many parks scattered throughout the city.

One of my favorite parks is the Reserva Ecológica, or the Ecological Reserve (speaking of Greenpeace…), which lies beyond the upscale and modern Puerto Madero along the Río de la Plata, or River Plate (for which the greatest club in Argentine soccer is named…). It's one of the few areas of Buenos Aires which remain free from human construction and filled with trees, birds, and other creatures —beyond the normal wildlife one encounters on the city streets. You can even find your way down to a rocky beach, sitting down to enjoy watching and listening to the tiny waves of the river crash against the shore, almost completely forgetting about the metal and glass skyscrapers which monopolize the horizon behind you.

(Warning: Do not read the following paragraph on an empty stomach. Doing so may lead to uncontrolled drooling, hunger pangs, and trying to chew on your computer/smart phone/tablet/or whatever it is you're using to read this blog — which, as a consequence, might complicate your ability to read future posts…)

Once you get tired of the wilderness, or if hunger gets the best of you, you can step outside the reserve and find a boardwalk lined with food stands, which are more like permanent food trucks, tempting you with the aroma of meat cooking on the grill. After you buy your sandwich, either a choripan (a delicious chorizo sausage on french bread) or a bondiola completa (a succulent thin cut of pork topped with ham, cheese, and an egg over-easy all on a baguette —yes, eating it without staining your clothes is quite a challenge), you can grab a nice cold soda, get comfortable at a table in the shade, and look out over the reserve while observing the hybrid parade of locals and tourists pass by on foot, bicycle, or rollerblades. This boardwalk is known as the Costanera Sur (southern coastal/boardwalk, I'm not sure how it should be translated to English) and lies within a couple kilometers of River Plate's rival club, Boca Juniors.

La Boca, as the neighborhood is called, is now a major tourist destination, famous for El Caminito (the "little road") a street lined with houses built of bright, colorful tin sheets. Along El Caminito you can find "typical" Argentine restaurants (priced for tourists), "typical" Argentine souvenirs (also priced for tourists), and very few "typical" Argentines (except for the occasional con artist or pickpocket). But in all seriousness, El Caminito is a part of Buenos Aires certainly worth visiting at least once, as houses which were formally shanty homes have been converted basically into works of art appreciated by Porteños and foreigners alike.

Formerly a neighborhood of immigrants, La Boca was a melting pot of cultures unified by the common goal of establishing a better life than the one they had left behind in the war-torn, impoverished Europe of the end of the 19th century and the first half of the 20th century. Many came with next to nothing and were forced to build their homes out of whatever materials they could find. Essentially, La Boca was the shanty town of Buenos Aires a hundred years ago, not too different from the villas de miseria scattered throughout the city today.

Today, La Boca no longer merely consists of homes constructed from tin sheets. El Caminito is now surrounded by tall "mono block" apartment buildings, not too different from the low income housing found in the United States or in the outskirts of Western European cities. Although the neighborhood remains impoverished and somewhat dangerous, the city government has done well to improve security in the most touristy parts, along El Caminito and La Bombonera (the giant blue and yellow atrocity called home by Boca Juniors distinguished by its particular odor of bosta, manure).

Visiting La Boca is kind of an odd concept, actually. It would be the equivalent of tourists wandering through the Villa 31 taking photographs while oohing and ahhing at the precarious state of the towering exposed brick homes.  I can see it now…

A tour guide leads a pack of Yanquis along the half-dirt, half-paved winding streets of the villa, "…and here we have the home of Nene Feo (an imaginary precursor of the infamous Nene Malo — yes, his name literally means "Bad Boy"… You can read about my love for the oh-so-talented "artist" here), the man who became the most famous cumbia villera artist in history, known for his classy, romantic lyrics which masterfully utilized the slang of the day along with his creative rhythms… If you're interested in hearing a wonderfully remastered performance of Nene Feo's best works, a string quartet and an illustrious washboard player, considered among the creme of the creme in the world. The show only costs 100,000,000 pesos (the equivalent of 10 USD today) and dinner is included."

"Sounds great! What's on the menu?"

"A typical Argentine meal. Starting with an appetizer of crispy, sautéed soy beans, then followed by a main course of breaded, deep fried tofu topped with tomato sauce and melted cheese (imported from Brazil since Argentina is now purely a producer of soy and cows are a thing of its distant past), referred to by locals a  milanesa de soja a la napolitana, and completed by an Argentine soy flan topped with dulce de leche (also imported from Brazil).

"And to drink?"

"Oh, yes, the scrumptious meal is served with an elegant Malbec, Argentina's national red wine, imported from Chile."

Sorry, I got a little carried away there, and perhaps a bit to sarcastic… One can only hope that one day the villas will only be a place to visit and wonder how people once had to live in such terrible circumstances.