Epiphany. Maybe.

Was it the hand of God that reached into my brain yesterday afternoon? Or was it the passionate beckoning of a street musician asking me to throw my hands up, not in despair, but to dance and clap and jump with him? Whoever it was that showed me the way, I finally feel like I have a reason, a thesis, some inspiration. Yesterday, walking the craft-packed side streets around the antiques fair in San Telmo’s Plaza Dorrego my friends and I were drawn in to a circle of spectators jumping and clapping and dancing along with a group of street musicians. Hand drums, trombone, trumpet, acoustic guitars, all playing together and then singing together over the guitars and drums. It was like ska, marching band, drum circle, salsa, reggae all mixed together into this incredible sound; you couldn’t help dancing. And with lyrics about peace, beauty, culture, a new world, music, life, love… I was hooked.

OK. Rewind. Back up.

Rome, 1965. Old men in robes sitting around trying to figure out how to revive the Catholic Church and make it relevant in contemporary culture, also known as Vatican II. Blah, blah blah, lots of Latin, blaaaah blah blah blah. Got it! Make Catholicism more accessible to people worldwide! Include all languages, forms of expression, and hey, let’s start using new kinds of art, literature, and music to communicate with people around us!

Skip to 1960s Latin America: home to intense social stratification, Liberation Theology, and claves. Frustrated people looking for answers, a powerful institution willing to provide needed social services, and a killer music scene.

Now we’re in Argentina. Buenos Aires, to be exact, the year is 2009. The city is practically devoid of Catholic practice. What’s that you’re asking about holy week? Religious festivals? Ritual?

No. Nada. Vamos a la playa.

Step back. Freak out. Go chill at the antiques fair in San Telmo. Typical South American tourist crafts, woven bracelets, leather goods, street food. Aaah, that’s better. There’s a little more to this place than ham and cheese after all...

Here come the street musicians. They were a group called Radio Roots, and for me, they gave me something to believe in, or at least to think about a little more. Seems to me that the spirit, and maybe the spirituality and faith too, of Liberation Theology is still around. You just have to wander down a side street to find it, or hear it, I guess. These guys are singin and dancin to spread a message about peace, equality, and beauty… all the things that the Church claims to be about. They seem to have a vision of a better world and society. And what’s more, they’re young and they have the energy and the ability to communicate that the old guys in the robes lack. And it seems like Buenos Aires is listening. At least this chica is!

So maybe this is what I’ve been looking for. To inflict some religion major lingo on this idea (which is inevitable if I’m looking to get a grade out of it), I could even call it postmodern. Sounds fancy, right? Mensajes por Música (I do love a good alliteration): Expresiones Postmodernas de Espiritualidad y Fe en Buenos Aires.

Commence head scratching. Maybe it’s just some BS. But it sounds a lot more fun than papal documents.

What do you think?

Full

I’m finally feeling like I can love Buenos Aires. The first few days I was here I was completely overwhelmed by heat, sweat, and public transportation. I was thinking that BA was a big, dirty city, that I could get used to it, but that I probably wouldn’t love it. But now after some more exploring, a lot more walking, and a few thunderstorms that broke the heat wave, I finding the real beauty in this big, dirty city.

This weekend has been wonderful and relaxing. On Friday night I met up with friends and we went to one of BA’s microbreweries in Recoleta, across from the cemetery where the Perones and the rest of Argentina’s VIPs are buried. After a few samples, we headed over to San Telmo to a 3-story nightclub called Rey Castro. The place was mostly locals and only played Latin music, which was really fun (though of course I was craving a little Single Ladies, as always). The only American song they played was the Twist, and all the porteños knew how to twist! It was fantastic! We left the club around 3am, about the time Argentina’s senior citizens start to think about going to sleep… but we had big plans for Saturday so a few extra hours of sleep were necessary.

Back in San Telmo on Saturday, my friends and I planned to meet at Plaza Dorrego, known for its weekend arts and antiques market. I took the subte (which is actually quite pleasant outside of rush hours) to Plaza de Mayo where I snapped some pictures of la Casa Rosada and the Banco Nacional de Argentina. The architecture here is really incredible. Most of it is modeled after classic French architecture, with the occasional Spanish Colonial catedral thrown in there just to mix it up. Plaza de Mayo is also the site where the mothers of children and families kidnapped during the dirty wars in the 70s and 80s march in non-violent protest. Las Madres still march there every Thursday, and their symbolic white head scarves and pleas for their families are painted on the bricks of the plaza.

From Plaza de Mayo, I walked down the cobble stoned calle Defensa into the heart of San Telmo. This street is lined with fabulous antique shops. The ceiling of one was entirely covered with crystal chandeliers! So beautiful! On one corner of Defensa is the market at Plaza Dorrego where we drank some espresso and watched the tango shows that spring up anywhere tourists gather.

Then, it was time for asado.

Asado is an Argentine tradition of grilling up every possibly edible part of cows and pigs and stuffing your face with meat and wine until you are deliriously happy and don’t need to eat for days. OK, maybe the latter half of that isn’t so much tradition as it is just hungry Americans in Argentina. So let’s see, we ate chorizos, morcillas (blood pudding), chinchulines (intestines), tiras (ribs), mollejas (um, glands), and every other unknown delicious hunk of meat the asador threw on our plates. Did I mention the place we were at, Siga la Vaca, is all you can eat? For 63 pesos each, less than 20 bucks, each of us got all the meat, roasted vegetables, cheeses, prosciuttos, and breads we could consume. And a few bottles of wine too. Gracias a dios, I’m no longer vegetarian.

It’s been a fabulous weekend. Not much more to tell about since after the afternoon of asado I’ve been pretty lazy. Though today I did explore more of Belgrano. BA is full of surprises, and I’m so glad I get to spend time here.

Off to learn to make homemade pasta with my homestay mom! The rest of my pictures are here.