A Walk in the Neighborhood

I know I chronicle our neighborhood a lot, but I just love it here and I want to document the everyday.

Also, I am not one of those with the oppotunity (read: funds) to  travel the country, so closer to home is where I find my adventures.

On Sat., they were doing some digging to put in new telephone lines. It was interesting to me how they did it, with spaced-out trenches, like rabbit tunnels. Also, construction zones and even the tools seem so much more rudimentary here than in the States. I actually ended up stepping right in the freshly poured cement over one of these trenches on my walk back home because there was no sign whatsoever and nothing blocking the area off.

I took this picture on my way out to run errands, and on the walk back -- when I stepped in the cement -- the worker who came over to smooth the cement asked me why I was taking pictures, and why I took a picture of the bricks earlier. I said they just looked interesting, and he told me that they had unearthed them from under the current sidewalk, and that they are at least 100 years old!

One of the work trucks. The construction worker said it was a modified bus (obviously) -- an old bus in the front to carry the workers to the site, and a dump truck thing in the back. Just not what you'd see in the U.S.

A library near our house.

Traditional Argentine/gaucho items for sale. I am actually kind of getting in to that style. More on that in a future post.

Nice. Fake money. US$ dollars, no less ...

(What I think is a) fake $10 peso bill ...

I just love the architecture here.

Yes, Curves is international. I like how this picture turned out, because right as I snapped it, a bus went by. If you know BsAs, you know that Olivos is where the Presidential compound is, and Boca is the famous port neighborhood where the tango originated, and where the pictures of the colorful corrugated metal houses are taken.

A colorful bouquet on a cold, bleak day.

A Walk in the Park

A walk we took on May 30 in our favorite park.

Parrots are so much cuter than pigeons.

Keep your Flag Day flag, folks! You never know when you'll need it. We stuck it on the stroller on 25 de Mayo, the bicentennial day, and have left it on there.

An auto club gathers here frequently on the weekends.

Armenian monument.

The guy on the bicycle was an interesting character. The dad and his son are excellent examples of the Argentine mullet, a male phenomenon seen across all age groups and all social strata here in Buenos Aires. The vast majority of women just wear their hair super long. If Locks for Love could set up shop here, they wouldn't need to go anywhere else.

You've seen this picture before, but I still love it.

Yes, I am Becoming THAT Mom

 Some pics from the photo/video session in the "Happy 4 mos." post.

Ready for her closeup.

Her hair seems to have fallen out since she was born, and now it is starting to grow back a bit.

Nile really is a happy, delightful little baby.

p.s.

Check out the update to next year's destination in "About Me."

Happy Four Months, Baby Nile!

Mom, this is for you! And don't mind the sounds I'm making ...

Modern Dance Baby

I couldn't help it. Somehow it started to look like the camera caught her mid-leap in the air.

Las Cabras

We went to Las Cabras with some friends of ours.

How can you argue with a place that's open "Todos los días, todo el día" (All day, every day)? Eating outside (under the heaters) was nice on a cool, rainy day.

Neil was of course lured in by the giant steak plate o' food (huge and quite inexpensive).

Yes, that's a big hunk of cheese on the steak and grilled onion. And a fried egg on the French fries. That's just how they do here in BsAs.

Also, bottled water "sin gas" (non-carbonated). You have to ask for it -- as I've probably mentioned before, they normally drink seltzer water here and will bring you that if you don't specify. They don't give you tap water, although you can ask for it and it's safe to drink. 

Nile couldn't take her eyes off the squash. 

Buen provecho!

In My Head

This song has been playing a lot on the radio here. It is so cute and in my head all the time.




The crazy thing is, I was in the car the other day when the song came on and I realized, "Wait a minute, I understand (a lot of) what they're saying!" Kind of funny when language clicks like that. Especially since lyrics, even in a first language, are harder to understand than clearly spoken language.

And holy freaking crap, where has Enrique Iglesias been all my life? I mean, I'd always heard of him but until now I was confused about who he is ... I thought he was an old guy ... but that's his dad, Julio Iglesias (Sr.) ... and then Wikipedia informed me that Julio Iglesias (Jr.) is also his older brother ... OK, so now that I'm up to speed on what the rest of the world already knew ... Wow.

Also, I want to be the dodgeball girl in the video. Blame hormones, but I almost want to cry when she comes to her little boyfriend's rescue.

July 4 - Independence Day/Farewell Tea

Independence Day was simply lovely and unseasonably warm.

I spent the afternoon on the afore-posted leisurely family walk, followed by a friend's farewell tea at the Park Hyatt Palacio Duhau.

You guessed it, the five-star Buenos Aires Hyatt is located in a former palace.

You're starting to sense a theme in my social engagements?

Pretty much don't invite me unless it's to a party at a palace, OK? ;)

The lovely gardens and waterfalls in the Palace courtyard, linking it to the newer building.

Everyone seemed to be running on Latin time. More time for us to just relax and enjoy the atmosphere.

The environs were incredibly elegant. I felt like a princess.

The table setting was lovely, (cream, dulce de leche (of course!) and orange marmalade, above), and the service was impeccable.

And then the battery in my camera died.

I guess I'll just have to go again to document the lovely assortments of petite sandwiches, scones, and desserts served on little silver tray towers. And my signature submarino (hot chocolate), Palacio Duhau-style.

Everyone was so gracious and courteous -- the valet, the waitstaff, the conceirge, who personally showed me to the restroom, the restaurant manager who appeared at our table to ensure everything was to the highest standards -- it was all so luxurious! I didn't want to leave! And luckily, nobody in Buenos Aires is ever in a hurry to rush you out, so we took our time, the plates were continually replenished, and by the time we left, I felt like I'd spent a week being pampered at a stress-relief, luxury retreat.

Now that's my kind of Independence Day!