Um, Am I An Addict?

I found out that they sell the Salamandra Dulce de Leche at the grocery store. So, of course I bought it. Now I sit in the apartment eating it straight out of the jar. I think I'm like one of those alcoholics who first start their addiction by drinking socially. Then they buy a bottle and go home and drink alone.

I'm to that point.

Death, By Dulce de Leche

Because we were cash poor, we stumbled into this little cafe which takes credit cards called "La Salamandra". They serve 2 things: buffalo mozzarella and dulce de leche. Um, why didn't they just call this place "Sandy, Eat Here" because I LOVE both.

Dulce de Leche has always been my favorite Haagen Dazs flavor, but I had no idea what the real thing was. Oh my...it's good. We ordered a crossiant (also very good) and a serving of dulce de leche. It's pure heaven. I don't know if I'll be able to go back to that stuff they call "caramel" in the States.

Cash Poor

It seems that every trip, we somehow wind up with no cash. Well, this trip is no different. We exchanged $200US when we arrived, and we've burned through that. Yesterday, we stop by the ATM to withdraw some much needed pesos. All the instructions for the ATM are in Spanish, and no matter what we do, the machine refuses to spit out any pesos.

We resort to looking over some lady's shoulder to see what she is doing. (Yes, we've turned into those creepy people I try to avoid while withdrawing money.) She's pushing exactly the same buttons we tried, and somehow the machine spit out cash for her! WTH...are these ATMs racist?

The hubby calls BofA this morning and the lady tells us that we were trying to withdraw money from the wrong account. What?!?

Well, we've been going around with only about 50 pesos in our pockets (about $13US). So we've been super frugal the past couple of days. Like we wanted to leave a 5 peso tip this morning, but decided not to splurge and just left a 4 peso tip. I also wouldn't let the hubby have a Havanna alfajor for 3 pesos. Yes, we're talking about being cheap on like $0.50 items. Gosh!

Well, this morning, we find a HSBC, and the hubby tries a series of different buttons on the ATM, and the sweet sound of money being counted hums and money comes out. Yeah, we're in business!

We immediately go to Havanna and enjoy ourselves a te con leche and alfajor...Oh wait, they take credit cards! JAH!

Hippie Food

After a week of insanely delicious meat, the hubby decides that he needs a break from it all and suggests that we try the local organic vegetarian restaurant. The name of the place is Bio and it's pronounced B-O. Wait, isn't B.O. a bad thing? And why would I want to eat somewhere that's named B.O.? Well, I guess I really love my hippie hubby because I play along.

As we stroll there, there is a light rain which adds to the ambience. The restaurant itself is very quaint and romantic. There are pretty flowers on the table as well as a nice soundtrack of Coldplay in the background. We order a couple of dishes and some jugo (juice) and a milkshake. Hey, maybe I was wrong about this place...it's actually really cool!

Just as things seem to be going well, the rain turns into a torriential downpour. The entire corner where the restaurant is located is turned into a miniture lake. A leak springs above us and water comes pouring in next to the hubby. We have to move tables just to avoid the drips. Just as this is happening, Coldplay finishes up and some freaky loud chanting music comes on. Then they bring out our dishes and if it were on the floor, I'd be doing the Palermo hop. And, to top off my dish, there are some flower petals...hey, aren't these the same flowers that are on the table as decoration? Well, we eat the organic vegetarian meal and the hubby complains that he's not full. I suggest he eat the flowers in the vase as well. Oh, did I mention my milkshake was sesame ginger? Um, not a good combo.

We get the check, and it costs about twice as much as our insane 10 pounds of meat parrilla completo meal.

Oh, and the fun doesn't stop there. The next morning, both of us have the emergencia numero dos that we've been trying so hard to avoid. Greeeeeeat.

Tomorrow night: meat for dinner.

I Can Eat Dairy!

Hmmm, I wonder if it's all in my mind, but I've been eating a ton of dairy, and you know, no emergencia numero dos! Whoa, I wonder if I'm lactose tolerant again or maybe I can eat dairy in the Southern Hemisphere cuz everything is turned upside down here.

Numero 30 Stocktono

Everywhere we travel in the world, we find ourselves heading towards Chinatowns for a visit. I don't think it's a need to be with other Chinese people, but more of a curiosity of what other Chinese people around the world are like. Buenos Aires' Chinatown is pretty surreal. Everything is just like the rest of Buenos Aires in the barrio of Belgrano. Actually, it's a really nice residential area. But, once you cross a set of train tracks, BAM, there's ah moos shopping with little pink plastic bags. It's just like at home, but not. Things are all written in Chinese and Spanish (great, we can't read either). And shopowners speak Spanish with a Chinese accent. When people speak Chinese, we're not quite sure what they are speaking. It's not really Mandarin, and it's not Cantonese either. Maybe they have their own form of Chinese here.

They have a bunch of kitschy tourist shops with the same crap that the stores on Grant Avenue sell at home. Damn, do Chinese people push the same slippers, fake toys, and snap bombs things all over the world? Apparently, we do in Buenos Aires.

Night at the Museum

Being the cheap basterds that we are, we decide to visit the Museo de Arte Lationamericano de Buenos Aires (MALBA) on Wednesday when entry is 5 pesos ($1.60) instead of 15 pesos ($4). We go for a nice stroll to the museum passing through Buenos Aires' version of Central Park. When we arrive at the museum, we take in the beauty of the outside of the building. After a couple of photos, we enter the building and are awed by the entry foyer. It's airy and filled with natural light. But wait...something is "off". I can't quite put my finger on it, but then the hubby says "I think they don't have electricity".

Ok, is it just me or do we seem to curse everyone in Buenos Aires? First, we totally screw the internet, electricity, and phone at the old apartment. Then we made our favorite waiter at our favorite restaurant drop a big plate of salad. And, now we managed to suck the electricity out of a whole museum? Wow, that's strong voodoo.

Well, we're all the way here...electricity or not, we're going in when it's 10 pesos less! This is the first time that we've ever gone through a museum in the dark. Some of the pieces like Antonio Berni's "Manifestacion" is haunting and devastatingly beautiful in the dark. Others, we just couldn't see. After we went through the museum once, the lights finally flicker back on. We go through the museum again with the lights on and we find that they have a pretty nice collection. Wow, we went through the museum twice...that's like only paying 2.5pesos for each trip. Whoo hoo, even better.

Would You Like That Supersized?

Today was the big showdown with our landlord. Damn, what happened to all those tenant rights we have in San Francisco? Our concierge from the company we rented the apartment from, the apartment owner, and the two of us agreed to meet at the apartment at 4:30pm to discuss our moving out.

Before the meeting, Johnny and I decided "Ok, stand firm. We want out; we want our stolen $350 back; and we're not leaving without our money!" When the meeting started, it was going well. The concierge was airing our grievences to the apartment owner, and there were a lot of grievences: no internet, no electricity, no phone, and the topper: $350 stolen.

The apartment owner then made us an offer we couldn't refuse. He said he'd move into our current apartment and we can move into his place 4 blocks away. But, the conditions are that all would be forgiven, including our stolen $350. The apartment owner is an interior designer and he showed us pictures of his suped up apartment. Damn, of course we're going to take that.

We totally walked into the meeting expecting to get the hell out of Dodge, but in the end we wound up with a totally bad ass apartment at an additional cost of $350. Well, at least we finally have reliable internet access! That's worth $350 to me already.

The Game of Clue

When we arrived in Buenos Aires, our host told us that there is a safe in the apartment for storing our documents and cash in. When he told us this, there were 3 additional people in the room: the maid, the guy who is renting us a cell phone, and the concierge from the company we rented the apartment from.

This morning, I went to check the "safe", and of the $595USD I placed in there Wednesday morning, there was only $245USD left. I was taken aback, and asked Johnny if he had removed any of the cash. But, of course he hadn't...I was the only one with the key. Plus, neither of us had a reason to use US dollars the past couple of days. Which leaves only one possibility: We's been robbed!!!

We've been dealing with this little gem all day, and to keep us sane and to make the most of a bad situation, we've decided to turn it into a little game of Clue.

Timeline: Between Wed, 09/20 11:00am to Sat, 10/3 12:00pm
Suspects:
- The Americans: maybe we're just lying and there is no money missing
- The Owner: he has a key to the place
- The Maid: she also has a key to the place
- The Cell Phone Guy: he was shady looking and shifted a lot
- The Concierge: he had slicked back hair and a big tattoo
- The Neighbor: A neighbor helped us get into an electric box, and he had a key he wasn't suppose to have
- The Argentine PG&E Guy: he was here to fix our electric problem
- The Ghost of the Spider: I always try to save spiders. Yesterday, we saw a spider and instead of killing it, we place it in a coke bottle so that we could set him free this morning. When I found him, he had drowned in Coke. Maybe the spider is mad at me.

If only I could open up that little envelope and find out who did it, where, and with what instrument.

I've Got a Bridge (Design) To Sell You

"Hey, we've seen this before!"
"Yeah, in Redding, CA!"

That was our reaction to the Puente de la Mujer in Buenos Aires. It's a beautiful bridge, but it's almost identical to the one that's only a 3 hour drive from home! We came millions of miles, I mean, thousands of miles to see this?!?

The architect, Sergio Calatrava, designed the Puente de la Mujer to represent a man pressing up against a lady: an homage to Tango. That makes sense for Buenos Aires, but what the heck is this same bridge doing in Redding? Is it suppose to represent Jethrow pressing up against Wilma on the haystack?

Our suspiscion is that he designed a pretty bridge and then decided to sell the same design to Redding, CA. It's not like any of those Redding bumpkins will ever know. It's kinda like Beyonce and Kelly Clarkson having the same tune to their songs.

The Pink House

If I ever became the President of a country (hey, it could happen), then I'd have a place like the Casa Rosada. Not only do they paint it pink...but at night, they light it up with bright neon pink lights. It's like the Barbie Dream House on steroids and with real working lights. I can't stop staring at it.

Oh yeah, and Eva Peron gave her famous speeches from the balcony.

Hola Buenos Aires!

Hola Amigos y Familia!

Whoa, me thinkas me speako Espanol, but me Espanol is as bueno as me Mandarino. The only Spanish I know I learned from the song Mentirosa by Mellow Man Ace. But unless I want to call someone a liar or a Skeeza, then it's not really much use.

We arrived in Buenos Aires yesterday, and the only thing that's put a hamper on our delirious happiness is the fact that we didn't have electricity in the apartment until about 8 hours after we arrived, we didn't get our phone working until a couple of hours ago, and we still don't have internet yet. The apartment owner had promised to fix all this stuff yesterday - what a mentirosa!!!

Buenos Aires is a big city with a lot of different neighborhoods called barrios. We are staying in the barrio of Palermo which has a lot of cute restaurants and shops. There are also a lot of dog lovers who live in this hood, but apparently none of them are dog-poop-picking-up lovers, so there's dog crap all over. The hubby and I have almost stepped onto dog poop so many times, only to avoid/jump over it at the last moment. We coined the term "Palermo Hop" to describe this little move.

Here are some of my observations of Buenos Aires so far:
- No one uses Kleenex here, we were looking for a box at the supermarket and it was crazy expensive (probably because they only sell 2 boxes a year).
- People don't clean up after their dogs.
- There are very few Asians here, and they all own little grocery stores.
- Portions are HUGE. The hubby and I shared a steak and they gave us 2 giant pieces that we couldn't finish.
- People eat dinner really late here. We walked into an empty restaurant at 8:45pm, and it was full by 10:00pm.
- The dulce de leche here is out of this world.
- The pizza here is pretty darn good too - apparently there are a lot of Italian immigrants here.
- The damn bugs here like to bite me as much as they do in Asia.
- Argentines don't recycle.
- People don't give a flying squirrel about fire hazards here. Our apartment door requires a key to open from the inside (great for security, terrible in case of fire.) We've been too nervous to start the fireplace because of this.
- There are these awesome outdoor shutters that we put down at night. They are great for insulation and keeps the apartment so warm.
- Very few people speak English here, but everyone listens to American music. So far, we've heard Curtis Blow, The Bee Gees, Culture Club, Duran Duran and Divinyls. As I'm writing this, James Taylor's Handy Man is playing on the radio.
- There are traffic lights at some intersections, but no pedestrian lights. So, to see if it's ok to cross, we have to make sure the opposing traffic has a red light.
- Both of us find that we almost say "arigato" to everyone instead of "gracias".
- In China, we can kinda almost understand what people are saying in Mandarin because we speak Cantonese. In Argentina, we can kinda almost understand what is in writing because we can read English. We don't exactly know which is more useful.