Get Lost

No, not Lost the tv show that everyone in Argentina is hopelessly addicted to (though a distant second to the obsession inspired by Los Simpson.) But the club Lost, otherwise known as Club Araoz, which on Thursdays becomes the only big club in BA to play real hip hop. Towards the end of the night it becomes somewhat watered-down and by 5 am is almost completely reggaeton, but by then you've gotten in a few solid hours of shaking your booty to some good old-fashioned USA hip hop. There's also a sort of pickup breakdancing show around 1 am. Anyway, it's cool, highly recommended, for those of us who don't love or are burnt out on dancing to electronica and cumbia. The sketchy guy ratio at Lost is very high, and the dancing is real down & dirty (think of Middle School dances) but there was muy buena onda and we were so, so happy to finally get down, and recognize every song that was played. For me, Lost is like the comfort food of BA clubs because it's so much like being at home. If you ever wanna pretend you're in East Oakland instead of BA, or if you miss sagged jeans, do-rags, bling, and gang signs, hit up Lost.
Downside: I washed my hair twice today and it still smells like cigarettes.

The other city that never sleeps

What a nice BA weekend.

Kicked off el finde on Friday with a night of bar-hopping in Palermo Hollywood... first Unico (Honduras y Fitz Roy) and then Congo (Honduras 5329, right next door to Kika.) Unico was quite nice, a big crowd on the sidewalk outside sipping their drinks, which are reasonably priced for that part of Palermo. Very friendly bartenders (hey! high five!) and despite the chaotic and packed bar, we got our sugary caipirinhas in under 5 minutes. Congo was fun as well but there was a (big) cover to get in, something I never approve of in bars, and some very aggressive mosquitos and men on the leafy back patio. So, we didn't do too much hopping actually, just two bars, and then came home for some highly intellectual and experimental cooking efforts, trying to create suitable drunk munchies from the contents of our overly healthy kitchen. Too many vegetables. Not enough cheese. But it worked out.

Last night I went to a party thrown by César and the kids at Argentina's Travel Guide. It was at a lovely house in Martinez and included all the elements of a good party - gorgeous Argentines, rowdy Yanquis, choripán, champagne, fernet with coke, and jumping into a swimming pool fully clothed. Well, maybe not fully clothed.

Sunday was soaking up the sun and browsing overpriced jewelry & crafts in Recoleta and then the latest episode of Project Runway on youtube.

Tomorrow it'll be back to business English (customer service: let's read this article on outsourcing) and TOEFL/IELTS prep, including some practice listening sections which I'm pretty sure are designed to drive the teacher absolutely crazy ("Paul, are you taking Intermediate French?" "No, Mary, I'm taking Intermediate Spanish." "Really? Intermediate Spanish, not Intermediate French?" "Yes, I'm not taking Intermediate French, I'm taking Intermediate Spanish.")

Hot. Can't wait for next weekend.

On Nature and Minimalism

Bleep bleep deeet deet deeet deet bleep bleep. I still have machine-like blips and bloops looping over and over in my brain. We danced to musica minima all night long, Argentine style. It was quite the initiation too; we were imprisoned in the dark dungeon of a basement inhaling second-hand smoke, exposed only to artificial blue and red ceiling lights as if on some futuristic space ship, until about 9 this morning when we escaped and took a taxi back home, already in broad daylight. Apparently this form of "music" has a growing underground popularity, here and in Europe. I'm not so sure--its kind of hard to dance to music that sounds like a failing supercomputer.
Oh god:


But what's travel without a full night of dancing to minimal techno.

Tomorrow, we embark on an adventure south. We're headed for Peninsula Valdes, Patagonia, to watch whales breach and penguins mate. We'll be taking the week off, so you won't hear anything from us until next weekend, when we'll try to include a slide show and explain callosities to laypeople.

Palacio Alsina

Hey single girls in BA - sick of getting catcalled & hit on all the time, whether you're in a club, a bar, or just walking down the sidewalk at 2 pm in sweatpants?
Well, I have a solution. Don't get me wrong, I love the straight men here in Buenos Aires. They're hot, confident, smooth-talking, stylish, and they wear cute business suits all the time. What's not to like? And even if you know that all that "Me vuelves loco!" and "Ayy, me rompiste el corazon!" is mostly bullshit, who cares, it sounds so good when they say it.
But if you need a break from the games & constant attention you'll find at most of clubs here, check out Palacio Alsina (Alsina 940, between 9 de Julio & Tacuari, and just down the block from legendary Hostel Clan.)
On Friday nights, Alsina becomes Palacio Alsina, basically a disco playground for gay men and a handful of chicas. It's in a massive historical-looking warehouse with 4 bars and white leather booths lining the (huge) dance floor.
We got there early to avoid the long lines that start to form around 2 am. It was pretty quiet at first but quickly filled up and by 3 am it was absolute madness. Early in the night, Will & I met another "couple" from Brazil and we hung out with them for the rest of the night, except for intervals when the guy was making out with various Argentines. The only problem was they didn't really speak Spanish or English, and didn't seem to understand that we didn't speak Portuguese. But we had a lot of fun dancing with them, and I think "Drop it like it's hot" is pretty much a universal language anyway (abajo - ABAJO!!!)
By 4 am there were some of the hottest men I have ever seen go-go dancing on the bar in leopard print thongs and I even got to dance with a 7 foot tall drag queen.
Overall, a very very good night.
Being surrounded by hot shirtless men who definitely aren't interested in you might not be everyone's idea of a good time, but if you ever just wanna let your guard down and feel the love from 10, 000 of South America's coolest gay men, Palacio Alsina's the place.

Donde esta la Juana?

After surviving a near fatal taxi ride, with a driver who had to be absolutely nuts (it became very apparent when Julia called him out on endangering our lives and he asked us if we were afraid of death), we arrived in front of Ciudad Cultural Konex, Sarmiento 3131, to see Juana Molina perform.

The venue is quite remarkable. The building must have been an old commercial warehouse or something comparable. We entered into a large courtyard with Argentines hanging out, dangling from long swings which hung from the framework of the edge of the building and saw the huge industrial steel orange staircase, as if an installation from some modern art exhibit. After crossing the plaza/courtyard towards the bar, we walked into the open concrete building which holds the stage. Patrons were awaiting the next act, a fellow by the name of Gabo Ferro. We walked up alongside the stage and sat down next to our company to watch the show in the bottom level of this empty concrete parking structure. Ill skip Ferro, for he wasn't the reason we went.

Molina uses a crazy set up of three synthesizers stacked to one side, an acoustic guitar and multiple effects peddles-- the primary one is used to record and loop different sounds. Molina sings magically dreamy and uplifting songs. The amazing thing is being able to see her create these mini symphonies from her "wall of sound" right before an audience. Formally a successful actress in a sitcom/comedy bit, it's quite apparent why she left all that to pursue music. She is her music, and her music is her.

But dont take it from me. Watch her own explanation:

Molina deserves lots of recognition because of her ability to create and capture little snippets of life's beautiful moments and interpret them musically. I loved the concert and Im really glad to have found out about her. She can be a bit experimental for some, but I hope you all enjoy it. Check out her myspace as well.

The Thelonious

For the third time in the last three weeks that Sarah and I have been in Buenos Aires, we went to Thelonious Jazz Club last night, on Salguero and Guemes. And for the third time in the three weeks that we've been here, I'm glad we went. Thelonious is, quite literally, a hole in the wall; it's easy to walk right past the narrow staircase leading up to the first floor of the corner building. The place is dimly lit and slightly dingy in the sort of way you'd want a jazz club to be. The paint is starting to peel off the high walls in some places, and the streetlamps shine through the dusty windows. The club is long and L shaped with a bar running the length, opposite the seven or so small tables, up to the stage. The drinks are strong and the choices plenty. I cannot avoid the wonderful mojito, for $13 which may sound expensive, but after two of those, you're good. And that's a helluva lot cheaper than a drink in the states. The entrance is generally between $10 and $20, depending on who's playing.

Its also a good idea to reserve a table or bar seat, as there is fairly limited seating, unless you don't mind standing or sitting, either on the stairs up to the ladies room, or on the floor in front of the stage, which is where I situated myself last night to see and hear Guillermo Klein y Los Gauchos.

What a show! It began a bit slowly, easing the audience into the world of the composer. But after the first two compositions, things picked up a bit. After the intermission, the second half was even more open and free, with more of a sense of improvisation. The songs were full of feeling and seemed to float through the air; they pushed and pulled as the band slowed down and sped up, often within the same composition. Mark, an American we've met along the way, who joined us last night, later referred to the music as "cerebral jazz."

Guillermo Klein spent seven years in New York, and is now living in Barcelona (hey look at that, two of my favorite cities, not including Bs As of course) and has recorded four albums with the Gauchos over the last ten years or so. He also studied music at the Berklee College of music, in Boston. Klein, in addition to some vocals, plays the piano. The Gauchos are made up of alto sax, trumpet, some ocassional electric keyboard, drum kit, additional percussion, and the electric bass. You can hear what the NY Times wrote about him/them here.

Another fantastic show, and another reason for me to return to what has quickly become a favorite activity of mine, watching a live jazz show at Thelonious.
Stay tuned, Sarah and I are seeing another show, Juana Molina, a little-known phenom tomorrow night.

Ride Of My Life

Last night, we celebrated Sarah's birthday. We began the night at our friends hostel, drinking and sharing travel stories with other wanderers such as ourselves. At the stroke of midnight we all sang happy birthday in at least three different languages. I made a speech too. Something about how I've known Sarah since we were 12 and how she's becoming a woman.

Sarah had ganas to dance to some hip-hop at a club, and so, our adventure unfolded. Our crew (me, Sarah, the three Swedish ladies, Julia, and a gang of five Swedish dudes) caught taxis all the way out to Puerto Madero, to go to Asia de Cuba club. Unfortunately, the entry was like $50 so we all vetoed that idea, and instead headed back over to Palermo to check out hip-hop night at Lost (Club Araoz). We hailed three taxis, Julia (in her fabulous Spanish) instructed all three drivers on how to get there, we split up and hopped on in. Thus began the ride of our lives.

We sped off into the Buenos Aires night--I think I had Ellie, Sarah, and Julia in my cab, but I was squished in the front and couldn't turn all the way around to see. The driver, in celebration of Sarah's birthday asked us if we liked to sing. Of course, we said. So, he deejayed the best cab ride of my life. We were singing "I can't get no satisfaction, no no no" at the top of our lungs, dancing and waving around, and each time we pulled up to a light, alongside our compatriots in their own cabs, we would roll down the windows and rock it, baby. We sang along to many greats, including Superfreak, I Will Survive, Sex Machine, probably more. What a riot. All whilst driving 120 km down broad city streets. We brought the party with us, and that by far, was the greatest cab ride in my 23 years.

The rest of the night was a success too. Sarah got that craving for some rowdy hip-hop taken care of, and like every night here, it was unforgettable. Tonight, sushi?
Happy Birthday Sarah )

The Swedish Thing

Last night we went out with some of my favorite people in the whole world, the Swedish girls I met in Chile last summer. We went to Niceto Club (5510 Niceto Vega in Palermo.) I don't know if it was the American dj, Diplo, or if Niceto is always like this, but it was overflowing with expats and tourists. The only ones speaking Spanish (it seemed) were behind the bar.
The club itself was nice enough, good music, a friendly crowd, BUT we were definitely charged the "tourist price" when it came to ordering drinks... a vodka tonic for $17 pesos!?!
It was a very fun night anyway. It ended in perfect Latin American style, with a guy from Costa Rica telling me and Angie that he was really un buen chico and we should let the other Swedish girl, Elly, go home with him - while he put a hand on our asses. Ah...

On another, totally unrelated, note: We went to the Rose Garden in Parque 3 de Febrero yesterday and it was AMAZING. So beautiful and serene. Sweet old couples sharing mate, teenagers kissing, dogs, babies, paddleboats and of course breathtaking roses. It was lovely.
It immediately brought out the little girl's wedding fantasy I didn't know I had and unconsciously the thought popped into my head " I want to get married here!"