Sunday, November 6, 2011

Life in Buenos Aires - Day 278

 Roberto Jeremías Bútler on Thursday, December 3, 2009 at 4:51pm

Hello children! I don’t know why I stopped writing about BA. Maybe it’s the fact that I got super busy? Maybe it’s the fact that no one really reads Facebook notes anymore? Who knows. But I can promise you one thing, it’s not because Buenos Aires has ceased to amaze me. In fact, Buenos Aires has done the opposite. 278 days later after my arrival, I’m still intrigued, captivated and bitch pleased by this city. I never want to leave! If I were rich, I would be buried in Recoleta cemetery. Since I can’t afford it, I would like to have my ashes just sprinkled there. If anyone has been following my ash sprinkling requests, this is now the newest spot. Previous spots include: Six Flags Over Texas off the Texas Giant, off the Eiffel Tower in Paris, and the kiddie pool Chaos at Wet Zone Waterpark in Rowlett, Texas. Anyways, back to BA, I love it. I just can’t get enough. Even though it’s an incredibly big city, I still feel like it’s a small town. Since I’m a borderline freak of nature, I’ve memorized every single street from Carranza all the way to Alem in order, so I feel like I own this city. I can never get lost here. Marcelo T and Rodriguez Pena? Bitch please, of course, I know exactly where that’s at. Bollini and French? Come on, that’s child’s play. If you really want to stump me, you’ve gotta get past Rivadavia, once the streets cross Rivadavia, things (and my BA street knowledge) gets a little sketchy.

Part of the reason I like it here is that this is one of the only places in the world where I feel at home. As mentioned above, I know the layout of this city better than any city on earth, including Rowlett Texas, which is pretty impressive. Also, I just feel so comfortable here. The daily challenges don’t even bother me anymore. Things that would be annoyances to first world denizens no longer faze my 3rd world ass. Yeah, I’m proud to say it, I live in the 3rd world and I’m proud! No gas in my building for an entire month? That’s ok, just use the miniature camping stove that my landlord brought me. Weekly blackouts? Open the windows, sunlight is nice! Taxi driver overcharges you? Just give him counterfeit bills! Everything here has a solution. It’s my new way of living life very carefree (if you thought I was carefree before, you’d be shocked (read scared) if you could see me now.

I hate to make empty promises, but in an attempt to talk about the local culture and show why I love this city, I want to post daily 2-3 things that I love about Buenos Aires. Given my track record, this will last about a good week. It’ll make me feel good, I’ll fall in love all over again with BA, and I’ll stop writing. I know myself way to well. But for right now, I’m in a damn good mood and I feel like sharing it with the world.

1) PUNTO PIZZA EMPANADAS:
Oh Children, what would I do without Punto Pizza? Punto Pizza is an amazing pizza/empanada fast food shop that is located 3 blocks away from my house on Laprida between Las Heras y Gutierrez. Punto Pizza has always been there for me always.. for celebrations, for tragedies, for good times, for bad times… sunny afternoons.. rainy days… you can always count on Punto Pizza to deliver fresh hot empanadas to your door. The delivery guys all try to put on a front like they don’t know me (what’s up with that anyways? How many black guys live on Las Heras and order empanadas thrice a week?) but I don’t care. I always get the carne suave empanadas for 2.75 pesos a pop (5.29 South African Rand, 2.72 Israeli shekels). For those unfortunate people who have never tasted an empanada, it’s basically a pocket of dough stuffed with anything you can imagine inside. Corn.. jam.. cheese.. meat..chicken.. Whatever you want, they have it. What sets punto pizza apart from the other empanada shops is that Punto Pizza always engraves the first letter of the kind of empanada into the dough, so you always know which one is which in case of a massive empanada party. Here’s a mock problem and I will show you how Punto Pizza solves this issue.

PROBLEM:
“Matias, llegaron las empanadas!
(Matias, the empanadas are here!)

“Che, tengo muchaaaaa hambre...dame mis empanadas.. pedi 3… 2 de carne suave, y una de jamon y queso.
(dude, i’m so hungry, gimme my 3 empanadas.. 2 are smooth meat (horrible translation) and one is ham and cheese”)

“pero boludo (voice raising), no se cuales son.. hay 6 empanadas aca.. cuales son las tuyas?”
(but dude (stronger than dude), i dont know which are which... there are 6 empanadas here.

SOLUTION:
“ sos un pelotudo!, no podes leer? Mira, las mias dicen CS y JQ. Las tuyas dicen P y CP (pollo, carne picante).”
(what a dumb ass, can’t you read? Mine say CS for carne suave, and JQ for jamon y queso. Your say P for pollo and cp for carne picante”)

“wow, mira vos! Me olvide que pedimos de Punto Pizza!”
(wow, look at you/how interesting! I forgot we ordered from Punto Pizza!”)

That situation has actually happened to me a number of times and each time, Punto Pizza has been to the rescue. Also, if you wanted to see how Argentines speak, that’s an exact conversation any Argentine would have.

2) ONCE
Plaza Miserere! Plaza Miserere! This is the simple, yet beautiful song that I made up that I sing everytime I wander into the amazing area of town called ONCE. If you took Mexico City, Chinatown, Senegal, a Bolivian flea market, and mixed it up together, you’d get ONCE. It’s the area of town (in my opinion) that is bordered by Pueyrredon, Rivadavia, Corrientes and I’m still working to figure out an eastern border. Anyways, you can get ANYTHING and EVERYTHING in Once. Fake passports? Jewelry sold by Senegalese immigrants? Got it! The only problem with Once is that everything lasts approximately 2 to 3 weeks but…. Fuck it! The prices are incredible! Sheets and towels for a fraction of the price…I once bought 3 tshirts in Once for 15 pesos each (3.93 US Dollars, 6.71 Brazilian reais), but when I took them to the laundry ONCE, they came out like midriffs. I just bought the most incredible cut off shirt there two weeks ago. It’s dirty as hell, but I’m so hesitant to wash it because I already know the outcome. What should I do? Who still handwashes?!? If I take it to the laundry and tell them not to dry it, they still will of course (come on, this is the 3rd world)…so I’m kinda stuck there. Anyways, Once is cool because they play lots of cumbia music, people weave in and out of stores holding crying babies and dance as they shop. It’s just a complete mess. To make things even crazier, each section of Once has a purpose. For example, the street of Lavalle between Pueyrredon and Callao is dedicated to just selling party supplies and fabrics. I don’t understand how two stores could be next to each other and sell the exact same thing! I mean, that’s fierce competition. It used to blow my mind back in the day when a CVS and a Walgreens were on opposite corners from each other, but two no-name fabric shops each selling nothing but long sheets of purple cloth is a whole new ball game. The thing is, they don’t even do anything to differentiate themselves from each other. They sell the exact same product, have the same shitty customer service, but somehow they both stay in business. Same prices too! Anyways, the highlight of Once is Plaza Miserere, a dirty, run down plaza full of Bolivian immigrants singing and throwing rocks into the fountain that no longer has any running water. Right next to the plaza there’s a huge train station that sells cheap food and women wash their babies in the sinks in the bathroom. Every time I’m hanging out a bit in Recoleta a bit too much and I’m feeling too snobbish, I’ll take the 41 down Pueyrredon for some good ol’ fashioned 3rd world fun. No trip to Once is complete without a pair of 5 peso socks, a choripan and a Quilmes from one of the many restaurants inside the train station, and just a little bit of petty theft and crime :)

3.) ONCE NAPKINS
No blog post that references ONCE would be complete without mentioning the famous ONCE napkins of Argentina. Now, before you guys go running around talking about Once napkins (not the hottest topic, but could happen), they really aren’t called Once napkins. I made that name up based on the first experience I had with these napkins in early 2009 in the Once train stations. Basically, what makes these napkins special is that they aren’t even napkins. They are thinner than a piece of paper, they resemble napkins in shape, even come in the napkin dispenser, but they do a PISS poor job of wiping faces, hands and spills. They are little pieces of hard clear or brown paper. That’s it. To demonstrate how shitty these napkins actually are, a friend and I once spilled water on the table and placed an Once napkin on the spill to soak it up. Instead of soaking the spill up, the Once napkin pretty much floated on top of the spill. Zero absorption. Zero. Bounty and even Charmin would be outraged! The problem/beauty of this is that these “napkins” are at at least 95% of the economical restaurants in Buenos Aires. If you’re looking to eat cheap in BA and you don’t want to walk out of the restaurant with shit all over your face, I suggest you stuff a few paper towels in your pocket because the Once napkins just wont cut it. You’d be better off actually using a plastic bag to wipe your face. I have no idea if they have Once toilet paper because I’ve never gone to the bathroom in the train station, but for the sake of cleanliness (and a potential typhoid outbreak), I HOPE Once TP doesn’t exist.

Well children, that’s the city I live in. Who doesn’t love that? Keeps life interesting.. no?

Peace
Rob

Life in Argentina - Day 37

 Roberto Jeremías Bútler on Thursday, April 9, 2009 at 9:47pm

What's up? I'm just hanging out in my bedroom, wasting my life away. Today was a complete waste of a day... I got back from the club at about 7 am (actually, that's kinda early) and passed out. It's now 10pm, Rachel is still sleep, and I've barely left the house today. Thank goodness today is a holiday, otherwise there's no chance in hell that I would have ever made it to school!

Anyways, yesterday was rather interesting. I woke up again at 11am and got ready to sign the lease at my new apartment. I've found a really awesome, huge studio apartment in Recoleta. It's only 4 blocks away from where I used to live, so I'm really happy about that. My rent: $499 x month for a fully furnished apartment, in the nicest neighborhood right in the middle of the city. Holy shit batman, that's insane! Do you kids have any clue how much that same apartment would cost in Russian Hill or the Upper East Side? Anyways,I found out that the lady I thought was the landlord is actually the landlord's secretary. I asked who the landlord was, and she said that it was a "senora". Great. Great. I'm willing to bet my life savings that my landlord is probably a 75 year old, stuck up, rich Recoleta bitch who will throw me out if I do ANYTHING wrong. I have respect for my elders, but seriously kids, you've gotta watch out for these Recoleta bitches, they are evil! THe landlord's secretary then proceeded to tell me that she LOVED black people because they brought good luck. Well, that's not something you hear every day, especially in the USA.

I'm really concerned because there's 24 hour security in my new building. Normally this would make most people smile and feel secure, but I'm really afraid that the doorman will tell my landlord about my ridiculous lifestyle. Who else drags 5 Brazilians, 3 French people, and another handful of Argentines into their apartment at 7 am for an afterparty? He's right at the front too, so he's going to have to see all of this. Let's see how long I last at this place! If I get kicked out of this one, I've decided to take all my belongings to the cemetery and call it home. Some of the mausoleums are so big in Recoleta cemetery, I definitely could bring my stuff there... And even better, when someone asked where I lived, I could still just say Recoleta and I wouldn't be lying! Of course this would never happen, but shit like this probably could fly in Buenos Aires and Argentines wouldn't even blink an eye.

Anyways, last night, Rachel and I got invited to a house party out in Palermo Hollywood. Palermo Hollywood is an area of Palermo that's super cool, nice restaurants and bars, but I could never live there because it's so f'in far. The house is owned by 4 professional poker players, 3 Americans and 1 Swede. They moved down to Buenos Aires and play poker on the internet, and apparently make assloads of cash. The house was insane, it was definitely one of the coolest houses I've seen here in Buenos Aires, by far. The party was actually pretty lame because it was filled with a bunch of American douchebags and a few stereotypical trashy American sluts who didn't even speak a lick of castellano. I pretty much spent the whole party scoping out people and trying to figure out who was Argentine and who was American. The alcohol was endless, I've never seen so many Quilmes stacked into one fridge. Eitehr I drank more than I thought or someone spiked my drink, but on the way to the club (left the party at 5 and went to the club), I passed out. Rachel woke me up and asked me if I would still be ok to dance, I guess since I responded yes, we entered Bahrein and danced (or probably leaned against the wall with my eyes closed) for a few hours. Actually, Bahrein is probably the only club that I have ever slept in. Last year when I was here, the music was so awful at Bahrein and I was so tired...I fell asleep standing up. It was really embarrassing, who else could fall asleep in the middle of a club, standing up, while electronic music is playing so loud that it almost makes your eardrums explode? Needless to say, I will never go back to Bahrein again. All 3 times that I have been there I've had horrible experiences.

On the agenda for tonight: Going to a Swedish houseparty in San Telmo, then going with my Swiss friend Ishi and Rachel to a hip hop club in Palermo.. first time that I'll be going to a club with REAL music.. Get excited kids!

Ok kids, i'm out of here. It's 10:40, and I've gotta wake up Rachel. Stay tuned! But first, everyday, I will list 3 random things that I LOVE/things that are weird about Buenos Aires.. After reading all of these, I hope you freaks will understand why I love this city so much.

1) One of the Indian restaurants doesn't actually have delivery, so what they do is hail a cab off the street, put your Indian food in the cab, the cab driver actually delivers your food, and you have to pay the price of the food + cab. So bizarre.

2) Cars actually speed up when you cross the street and sometimes switch lanes just to hit you. No joke.

3) Random people here read your Facebook profile, add you as a friend if they think you are cool, send you a message and invite you out with them/or their friends... and it's totally normal here.

This city is NUTS. Hip-hop club, here I come.. let's see what adventures you can bring me tonight!

Peace
Rob

Life in Argentina - Week 3 - Freaks, Dirty Martinis without Vermouth, and a lot of 69.

 Roberto Jeremías Bútler on Friday, March 20, 2009 at 9:13pm

Hola! Well, it’s really hard to describe what’s been going on here because everyday is a new adventure. Basically, I’m having the time of my life. I’m still on vacation kinda sorta because my school doesn’t start till Monday, and Rachel is still here with me! Yesterday was an awesome, awesome day.

Believe it or not, I actually woke up at 9 am yesterday because I had a class. I know, I said school doesn’t start till Monday, but I’m going to two universities (hard to explain) so I have class at one university every Thursday. I’m not used to waking up so early here… because we go out so late (averaging coming home at 6 or 7) , I usually wake up around 2 and start my day at 3. Me and Rachel are practically joined at the hip here, we do everything together, it’s awesome. We ride the colectivos together, we eat choripan, and we run across the street dodging traffic. Life is beautiful. Anyways, after resting for a bit after class, Rachel and I went over to Palermo to check out this new youth hostel. I don’t have internet in my house still, so since Rachel has to teach a class, she has to find a place that has a strong internet connection. Last week, she tried giving her class at McDonalds, but it failed…horribly. Instead, she came back at 4 am, alive, with a tennis playing redhead Argentine named Rodrigo. Too much to explain. Anyways, at the hostel we met this really weird couple from Salt Lake City. The girl came by and was like, um, do I know you from somewhere? Obviously, she didn’t know me from Adam, but she was just attempting to start a conversation with me… anyways, since she thought Rachel and I were a couple, she ran downstairs to get her boyfriend so they could have a conversation in English. Up unitl this point, they were completely normal, and I even considered inviting them out to have a beer with us in Plaza Serrano. DEAD WRONG. When her tattooed Tommy Lee like boyfriend came upstairs to greet us, they immediately began to chain smoke KOOL cigarettes and talked our ears off about the poor air quality in Salt Lake City. The guy told me that he lived in Reston, Virgiina for a while, so I brought up the snipers (Anyone remember the sniper story from a few years ago, when that guy named John Malvo (for some reason, I call him John Liquid Malvo, I know it’s weird, but it seems like a good middle name) shot all of those people in Washington D.C and Virginia? Anyways, the girl started freaking out and saying that my story was completely out of context, and she couldn’t relate to the story because she had never been to D.C. “So, give me more details?!? You’re telling me that 8 people got shot in DC, for no reason? Come on, your story is out of context.. I’ve never been to DC? I can’t even relate to this???!? This is so out of context” At this point, I was doing everything in my power not to laugh in her face, but I kept my cool and finished the story. Thenshe began to touch her boyfriend on the back, and he looked her dead in the eye and said “Why are you doing that? (with the tone of voice, What the fuck are you doing?). Rachel and I just sat there in silence, drinking beer, watching the two weirdos talk nonsense Anyways, I asked the guy a question about Uruguay and he immediately got up and said goodbye to us, and left. I wish I had a video camera to tape this freaks, but unfortunately this story will have to do.

Anyways, after we left, we met up with my friend Martin and his friend Leo at Plaza Serrano to drink a beer. I love sitting outside here in the plazas drinking beer because amazing things happen… 25/7 entertainment. No, I didn’t make an error on 25 hours…. Apparently, in Argentina there are 25 hours in the day. Things here that are open all night say OPEN 25 Hours. I still haven’t grasped that concept yet.. I mean, I guess it is true, if it’s open 24 hours, it’s open 25… weird! Anyways, at the table, during the short 45 minutes we sat drinking our beer, 3 freaks came to the table:

Freak 1: La Nina: This little kid came up to me and was like, hey, I remember you!! I gave her a highfive, and we chit chatted a little bit in Spanish. I’m sure my friends were wondering how I knew a 11 year old girl so well, but the truth is that I saw her a few weeks ago, in the same plaza, trying to get money from me. Anyways, we chit chatted, and I made her a deal where I would give her 6 pesos in bills for 5 pesos in change. Now, to any normal person who isn’t from Argentina, this probably sounds like poor drunken judgement, but coins here are so rare and hard to find (but so useful) that I’d do anything to get them. Stores don’t even have change here.. sometimes if you buy something that’s 4.50 and you don’t have change, you’ll either 1) not be allowed to make your purchase or 2) be given little chocolate candies instead of change. It’s so much fun, it’s like a game to get change here! Since you’re only allowed to use coins to ride the bus,finding creative ways to get coins at this point is my favorite pastime. I’d even consider whoring myself out for a few pesos of change! I may end up with syphilis, but at least I’ll be able to ride the bus!

Freak 2: The Magician Pablo:
So, about 10 minutes after the girl /change machine left, a deaf and mute magician named Pablo came to our table and began to mouth words to us. It’s pretty hard for me to read lips in the first place, but reading lips in Spanish is even harder. After explaining hwat he was going to do, he began to do a series of magic tricks in front of us. The magic tricks were pretty awesome, except for one which needed lots of work, because I obviously saw the cards in his hand, but we did give him a few pesos for his effort. He moved on to the next table and started performing the same tricks, but Rachel called him out and I think he was kinda pissed because the girls that he was performing for spoke English. I also don’t think he was deaf, because everytime we yelled out what he was going to do, he turned around. I’m pretty sure he spoke fluent English as well, because we kept talking shit about him and he made faces at us. To most people, this is an annoyance, but I call it cheap entertainment. 1 peso to be entertained by a deaf and dumb musician on a hot summer day while drinking a cold Stella Artois in one of the coolest plazas of Buenos Aires??!?! That’s a steal!


Freak 3: The movie vendor (not really a freak, just a normal bootleg movie dealer, but since the previous two were, I had to follow the pattern)
This guy came to our table to sell us movies… I love that they have amazing bootleg movies here, for so cheap! In the past two weeks, I’ve purchased Milk, Vicky Christina Barcelona, Slumdog Milionaire, Yes Man, Seven Souls, and Gran Torino all for a grand total of $15 dollars. How is this even possible?!? By the way, the word for bootleg in Spanish is TRUCHO. It’s my new favorite vocabulary word… next to peluca.
PS, Argentines are obsessed with wigs.

We left Plaza Serrano, and went and ordered a dozen empanadas to be delivered to the house. My friend Oliver came over, and I watched Oliver and Rachel dance to latin music while we also took tequila shots chased by blue curacao. Disgusting. Anyways, we were all fucked, so we took a taxi over to Palermo to meet up with the guys from my Rotary program. We hung out with the Rotary scholars for a while, drank martinis (martinis here aren’t made with vermouth?!? What the helll?) , actually, the martini was so awful that I had to send it back, and I opted for a long island iced tea. I was so drunk I couldn’t remember the word for “gulp”, so I kept telling everyone that I was going to down the long island iced in three “cuotas” (payments). I thought it was funny, but since that sounds really weird in Spanish, no one else was really laughing. We left there, purchased more alcohol in the back of a shady empanada shop, and me, Oliver and Rachel stood in the line for Club 69, having beer race competitions with random foreigners. Once we got in, I bought us a bottle of champagne for celebration (not really sure what I was celebrating, but it was only $20 bucks!) and we met up with Martin and Leo again. I danced at Club 69 until about 6am in the morning, and then we took the colectivo home and passed out.

So now, I’m here at McDonalds, surrounded by beautiful Argentines, waiting for my friends to come over so we can go out tonight. In order for the club to be free tonight, we have to be there BY 3 am (insane)… so I guess we have plenty of time! I’ll update you tomorrow hopefully! 

Life in Argentina - Week 2

 Roberto Jeremías Bútler on Friday, March 13, 2009 at 4:31pm

Hola todos! I'm just here, still adjusting to life in a foreign country. Everything is different, the sounds, the smells, the people, the nightlife, the language, everything... and I absolutely love it. Week 2 was pretty damn interesting, so here's a recap.

24 Hour Locksmith- Most profitable business ever?
So, after a long tiring day of walking around Buenos Aires, I finally return home. I was planning to go over to my friend Oliver's house for his birthday party, but something terrible happened. Here in Argentina, some doors automatically lock behind you if you shut them... I was going to let my friend Rodrigo out, and when I did, I accidently grabbed his keys instead of mine because all keys here look the same. PS, all the keys are HUGe and look like skeleton keys, like magical keys that are supposed to open things like a hidden chest full of gold, a secret passage, etc, not an apartment building! Anyways, I realized my mistake, so we tried to think of different solutions ranging from breaking into my apartment with a wire, calling the landlord (who didn't have a spare set of keys?), to scaling the wall and opening my window. Needless to say, none of these worked. My friend went out to find a locksmith while I just kinda sat in the hall, no shoes and in the dark. Even worse, in Argentina, there's always a bit of an issue with security, so people don't feel very safe with having random people just hanging around in the halls near their apartment building. I felt bad because I was just sitting there in the hall ,scaring everyone shitless who came up the stairs to find a foreign shoeless man, sitting at the top of the stairs in the dark. Anyways, the locksmith finally came and unlocked my door within about 15 minutes. Then, the most ridiculous thing ever happened. Here's the conversation, translated of course:
Rob: How much?
Locksmith: Yeah, that'll be 325 pesos. Oh wait, its Saturday, and it's night, so there's an additional 100% surcharge.
Rob: What?? (Ok children, for those who don't know, 650 pesos is ALOT of money to pay for a locksmith. Some people here spend 650 pesos a month for rent!! 650 pesos = 200 dollars, but the buying power of 650 pesos is HUGE)
Locksmith (w/ a stone cold face): Yeah, sorry. You live in Recoleta, so of course I'm going to charge you more. We charge based on the area of town that you live in. If you lived somewhere cheaper, of course I'd charge you less.

At this point, three things became very apparent to me. 1) This wasn't a joke 2) Price discrimination in Argentina is A-OK, and 3) I was kinda fucked

Rob: Ok, wow, well since I don't carry around 650 pesos with me, I'll just pay with my card.
Locksmith: Sure, but we'll have to charge you 40% extra for that too.
Rob's thoughts: Wow, really? Who is this guy?

At this point, the situation was so ridiculous that it became comical and I began to chuckle...

Rob: Ok, well I won't do that. Can I just pay in American dollars? The exchange rate right now is 3.6 pesos to 1 dollar.
Locksmith: Sure. But (of course there's always a but) I can only change it at 3.2 pesos to the dollar.

Not willing to lose 80 pesos, nor pay by credit card for obvious reasons, I went down, pulled 650 pesos out of the ATm, and sent the locksmith on his way. My Argentine friends have told me that a locksmith here costs roughly 80-100 pesos. Awesome.

I told my realtor (who has become a good friend oddly enough) about the incident, so she told me that we should go report it to the customer defense, similar to the better business bureau. The way things work in this country, I pretty much guessed that I'd be wasting my time... Anyways, she called the locksmith four days later, only to find out that the address that was on the receipt didn't exist, and the number didn't work as well. Oh well, I guess I'm not getting my money back, but at least I've learned a very valuable lesson.

Yesterday:
Ok, what I hope to do is just start writing daily instead of weekly. I want to document all of my experiences because it's so awesome, so here's my attempt at describing yesterday's madness.
For those of you who don't know, my best friend Rachel is here in Argentina visiting me for a month! Anyways, we woke up at around 1pm, and took the metro to the Microcentro. Upon arrival, we went to an internet cafe and put our names on the guestlist for Club 69, one of the hottest Thursday night clubs in BA. Oddly enough, we got a coupon that gave us a free beer and a free hot dog if we got there before 3 am. What super posh nightclub also gives hot dogs out as promos? I mean, it makes sense because drunk people are hungry, but when I think upscale nightclub.. I think Grey Goose, not Oscar Meyer. Anyways, we walked around the city a bunch, and stopped to have lunch/dinner with my friend Rodrigo at this restaurant. It was around 6pm, and we were the ONLy ones in the restaurant. Argentines don't eat until around 11pm, so 6pm is ridiculous. And when I say only ones in the restaurant, I'm not kidding. Anyways, for 19.50 pesos ($5.34 or 4 euros for my European readers) we got: A choice of any drink (including wine), a nice size steak, fries or salad, a choice of dessert, and a tea or a coffee. Insane. $5.34?!?
After returning home and resting, Rachel and I took a taxi out to a pool hall to meet my American friend Adam and his friends. We drank, drank, drank, and prepped ourselves for a wild night at Club 69. My friend Martin came and joined us, and we hopped in another taxi to go to Club 69. Apparently, since we got there after 3 (people go clubbing LATE here), we missed the guest list. They wanted 50 pesos to get in, and since it didn't come with a free drink, nor a free hot dog, we peaced out and went to the wildest club in the Southern Hemisphere (bold statement, but true), AmeriKa. It definitely lived up to its reputation. Martin, Rachel, Adam and I danced like crazy all night, jumping up and down, screaming.. I loved it. There were so many people, similar to nightclubs in Ibiza. We left the nightclub at 6... Rachel had bloody feet for some reason, but I guess that means we had a good time. On the way home, we stopped to get hot dogs. The lady who was selling the hot dogs told us that only 2 were ready, and the other one wouldn't be ready for five minutes or so. Not willing to wait, we decided to just take two, but magically the 3rd hot dog was ready. I'm sure it was completely undercooked, but when its 6 am, you're hungry and your friends have bloody feet, undercooked hot dogs are the least of your concerns. Anyways, for some reason I started kissing the lady selling the hot dogs. I don't think she was having any of it, but I was in kind of a touchy feely (read: creepy) mood, so I just leaned over the counter and planted a big one on her.

We returned home at 6 am, opened more wine, and I watched Rachel and Adam play boggle. I decided to be the judge for drunken words that probably didn't exist, but since I only had a Russian-English dictionary, I wasn't much of a help, so I just passed out.

Welcome to Argentina :)

Life in Argentina - Week 1

 Roberto Jeremías Bútler on Tuesday, March 10, 2009 at 5:14pm

Life in Argentina – Week 1

So kids, I did it. Yeah, I can’t believe it. I live in Buenos Aires, Argentina. If you check my Facebook blog from exactly one year ago, I said “someday I’ll live in Buenos Aires.” Well, I guess I don’t lie. Who knew that those words would come true? I sure didn’t! For those of you who don’t know, I’m living here for one year (possibly more) preparing for my master’s in Spanish linguistics. Since I can’t get the full degree here, I’m going to complete it upon return to the United States.

I promise to start writing almost daily about my experiences here… so much happens in one day here, it’s hard to recap an entire week.. so I’ll give you guys the summary.

From a 2 bedroom apartment in Recoleta to a studio in Recoleta:
Before I came to BA, I searched VERY hard for an apartment… I found one on Craigslist , which btw is getting less and less shadier by the day, and it was amazing. Sunday morning, my friend Rodrigo and I packed up all of my stuff and hauled it over in the rain to Recoleta. I don’t feel like explaining the whole story, but my landlord basically handed me my deposit money back (that I wired over from the States a while back)and told me that she wouldn’t rent to me. She basically called me a liar, because she thought I didn’t speak Spanish and said she didn’t trust me because I didn’t give her a copy of my passport in advance. Bitch. Anyways, luckily enough, Rodrigo knew an apartment locator, and she hooked me up with a really cool apartment one block away from the Recoleta cemetery. For those of you who haven’t been to BA, one block away from a cemetery probably sounds really creepy, but it’s pretty much the main tourist attraction of Buenos Aires! I now live in a studio, pretty modern, everything is new, and it’s in a great location. Sure, it’s no deluxe two bedroom like I planned, but I guess you have to roll with the punches! Signing the contract with the lawyer and the landlord was a real experience… I thought I knew Spanish, but 25% of those legal terms went over my head… I’m sure there’s a clause in there which allows my landlord to 1) kick me out at anytime 2) take all of my possessions 3) come move in with me, but I don’t care at this point.. I finally have a place!

Riding the train from Padua to Capital Federal:
Buenos Aires is actually a big province, and the city itself is Capital Federal. Outside of the city are a bunch of towns, and before I moved into my apartment I was living in a town Padua with my friend Rodrigo. I had dinner with his friends on the first night and they told me that Argentina was very third world. Third world?!? I’ve only been exposed to posh nightclubs, beautiful people, nice steaks and fancy shopping malls…To prove this, they told me to ride the train in the morning from the outside suburbs to the center. Wow, they were right. Wow. One day, Rodrigo and I boarded the train to get to the center.. The train was absolutely packed… not American rush hour packed, but packed as in Mumbai, India packed. People were pushing each other all over the place, people were riding outside of the train, it was absolutely insane. These trains are infamous for frequent accidents, breakdowns, riots, fires, and the occasional derailment. I asked my friend for the wildest experience he’s ever had on the train, and he told me that once he was riding, and he saw a severed human arm on the tracks below. Amazing. Anyways, the train we boarded was completely dark, the lights had gone out for some reason.. The train stopped in the middle of the tracks and shut down. People started going crazy…climbing on top of the seats trying to escape out of the windows, trying to break the doors down, and even a few guys tried to pull the train apart. Apparently when people get angry here because they can’t get to work or return home, they often start riots and light the trains on fire. In a weird, sick way, I was hoping someone would set fire to the train and I’d have to do something crazy like jump out of the window (makes for an amazing story), but eventually we boarded another train and arrived about an hour late. Welcome to Argentina!

Other bizarre things to happen to me:
Went grocery shopping with my friend and halfway through, someone ran off with my cart. I knew that petty theft is a common problem here, but seriously, what does someone get out of stealing my groceries in aisle 5? Wouldn’t they still have to pay for my items? I really don’t get it. Anyways, we completed the grocery shopping and they have an amazing service where they’ll send your groceries to your house for $2 so you don’t have to carry them home. I took half of my groceries home and had the others shipped to my house. Mistake. Groceries arrived today. Rob is missing 12 cans of beer, a 2 liter Sprite Zero, and 2 bottles of water. Since I took half of the groceries home myself, I couldn’t argue with them about what I had taken home and what was left to ship. Bitches.

Well, I’m a little tired of typing now, but this is my life so far in Argentina. I’ve got an apartment, I’ve registered for school (although I only have one class on Thursdays until March 27th (Spanish, French and Italian classes start then), and I have a shitload of free time. In fact, I’m sipping on a Vodka, blue curacao, orange juice right now at 6pm. I have absolutely NOTHING to do until next Thursday, where I go to school for 2 hours… then another week of relaxation. Life is beautiful.

Cities of the world compared to relationships & one night stands

The one that you'll get drunk & sleep with ocassionally but would NEVER consider marrying: LAS VEGAS 

The one you've been married to for way too long and so happy to be getting a divorce from: DALLAS 

The one that everyone thinks is so hot, but you just don't see it: NEW YORK 


The one you're crazy in love with, but can't hold down, so you settle for what you can get: IBIZA 

The one you hope to marry but you have to have your fun before settling down: SAN FRANCISCO 

The only one you'd ever consider cheating on your spouse with: BUENOS AIRES 

The really sexy one that's mysterious and you'd like to get your hands on: ISTANBUL 

The one that's so perfect on paper, you wish you loved, but it's just not there: LONDON 

The one really bad hookup that stays in your mind forever because it was so awful: SIOUX FALLS 

The one you've done a couple of times, you know it was fun, but so drunk you really don't remember: MIAMI 

Your childhood love that you know you can always go back to if things go wrong: CHICAGO 

The two twins that you can do back to back in the same day: PHILLY & DC 

The one you really want to go for but stayed away from because it's dangerous for you and you'd be playing with fire: MOSCOW 

The really boring relationship that makes you wonder how it lasted so long:  COLLEGE STATION

The one who lavishes you with diamonds and attention but there's just no substance: DUBAI 

The one that's so beautiful and charming, but you know that you would never last with because you are two completely different people: VENICE 

The one that has serious potential, but you'd never consider a relationship until they fix themselves up a bit more: AUSTIN 

The one that's frustrating because it's so pretty, but such a dull personality: LISBON 

The one that's really cool but carries WAY too much baggage: BERLIN 


The one that has a bad reputation, isn't that cute, but is acutally suprisingly awesome: MEXICO CITY 

The one you thought you would love before you even met, which turned out to be a huge disappointment because all they can offer you are material things: MILAN 

The one you've never tried coz you're afraid of getting hurt: BEIRUT 

The one you can always count on because you know they'll come dressed to impress: TOKYO 

The one that you fell in love with at first sight, but has so many suitors that the feelings will never be reciprocated: ROME 

The one that's really cool, but will never grow out of the shadow of its siblings: PROVIDENCE 


The one that pretends to be shy and reserved, but is really a freak in the bed: STOCKHOLM 

The one that you adore, but comes on so strong you can handle it in small doses: MADRID 

The really gorgeous one that you wish would cheer up and smile more often: SEATTLE 

The one that's so wild and out of control that you'll never be able to tame it if you tried (and you secretly like it that way): NEW ORLEANS 

The trendy artistic one you loved briefly in your hippie phase: PORTLAND 

The one that's so dirty and disgusting that you just want to put a sack over it's face and get it done with: DETROIT 

The one that's not that great, but if you put up with it for a while, you'll meet its super hot friends:
ATHENS 

The rewards that you get from putting up with its best friend Athens: SANTORINI 

The one you thought you loved when you were too young to know what love is: ORLANDO 


The one you would probably fall in love with if you took to time to get to know, but you're simply too busy with your other flings: TORONTO 

The one that was really ugly back in high school, but now is making everyone look twice: BEIJING 

The one you can't wait to get to know, but there's always so much drama surrounding it: TEL AVIV 


The educated one who will talk philosophy with you until sunrise, but also has the ability to stand up and kick your ass in a bar fight: BOSTON


The one who desperately tries to be popular, but once you take away the makeup and designer clothes, you realize she's nothing but your typical small town girl: SCOTTSDALE (PHOENIX)



Mexico City - Day 4 & 5

 Roberto Jeremías Bútler on Monday, May 19, 2008 at 2:52pm

Well, hello there kids. For anyone who took the time to read my Mexico City: Day 3 entry (longest entry ever), I'm pretty sure you can imagine how I felt on the morning of Day 4.
I woke up at around 11am or so, still dressed in my clothes from the night before. I was actually extremely intoxicated and so was Pavel, so we decided to make an ass of ourselves in the hotel. We decided to go to BICE Bistro in the hotel for a nice meal. I was so drunk reading the menu I couldn't decide what to get, so I just ended up getting chilaquiles and an egg omelette. It was pretty delicious, I scarfed them down like there was no tomorrow. I love chilaquiles and I'm hoping to find them in America when I return. We kept joking with the waiter and for some reason, she kept calling me Mark. I thought it was kinda cool to be called Senor Mark, so I just went along with it. The customer service in Mexico is outstanding, people are so attentive and cater to your every need without question. I guess it's pretty obvious I'm big on customer service since I talk about it in every entry, but it really makes me happy. Anyways, Pavel was drunk so he gave her a ridiculous tip, so of course she kept smiling and joking with us.
We stumbled down the stairs and went back up to the room to prepare for the day. I thought I'd finally go see the city, but I was too hungover to move. Why does this always happen to me when I'm on vacation? I'm an expert on the nightlife, but unless I'm in a city for more than 1 week, it's really hard to go see the city. It started to rain heavily, so I didn't feel so useless staying in the hotel. I kept sleeping on and off ,watching movies, listening to Russian music and contemplating throwing up all day.
At 7pm, I finally woke up and decided to go see the city. I wanted to go to the top of the "Torre Latino" to catch a good view of the city. I hopped in a taxi by myself for the first time (not bad at all) and I made it there in one piece. I literally was fearing for my life thanks to my Lonely Planet books about how dangerous hailing a taxi can be. Originally I wasn't going to hail a taxi but how can you resist when the taxis at the hotel cost over $25 to get to your destination, and street taxis cost $4??!?! I went to the top of the tower, 41 stories in an old elevator, and I got to see the city from above. Btw, the attendant who was operating the elevator REEKED of alcohol, so I was kinda scared we would all plummet to our deaths. Anywyas, I took lots of pictures of Mexico City from up top. The city is so freaking huge, it's unbelievable. By far the biggest city I've ever been to, it's spectacular. One thing I noticed about Mexico city is that it's really hard to walk and climb stairs. The city is 7217 feet above sea level (2200 meters), so it's easy to get out of breath and feel like you're going to pass out. Not good.
Anyways, I returned back to the hotel and met up with Cesar for drinks. I met two of his friends, Ismael y Roberto and we all went together to Ocean Drive to have drinks. Ocean Drive was crazy.. it was some girl's birthday party and she was soooo trashed that she kept crying about everything. Between sobs, she kept trying to hit on me and I was not interested at all. This bitch was crazy, so I just watched her cry and scream from a distance. I felt very ill still, and instead of throwing up, Cesar's friend Ismael recommended that I just drink tequila instead. Mexicans seem to never take medicine, they cure EVERYTHING with food and drink. Even though tequila is what got me feeling dodgy in the first place, somehow it worked as a cure. How can something that makes you feel like you want to die makes you good as new? Around 2 hrs later enters a VERY drunk Pavel with a new girl by his side. We all get together, along with a new girl from Ocean Drive, and we got decided to leave and go out. We cram into one small car, packed like sardines, screaming and listening to Pavel sing Russian music.
We arrived at CABARET, a really upscale club in Polanco. When I entered the club, it was heaven. Very nice, amazing music, upscale and really hip. I love posh nightlife and it got 10X better when we got a table upstairs in VIP. We ended up with 3 bottles of tequila at ANOTHER bottle service and it just got out of hand. Everyone was dancing with each other, tequila shots, leaning off the balcony looking down at the people dancing.. At one point, I got on this miniature table and it broke right through! I didn't want to be charged for it, so we just kinda flipped it over and hoped for the best. It got kinda weird when Pavel turned angry Russian and started punching everyone in our group. I got slapped instead of punched, but he was doing it out of friendship. I guess that's the way Russians show you how much they like you, they punch the shit out of you. Cesar's friends got punched in the stomach, I got slapped in the face, it was pretty funny now that I look back on it. Bitch wild. Anyways, I hung outside for a while by myself talking to randoms and practicing my Spanish. We were all wasted and we finally left. I wasn't too bad fortunately, but Cesar's friends were fucked and one even threw up in front of the Camino Real Hotel. Thanks bottle service :)

Day 5:
Day 5 was an excellent way to end my trip to Mexico. I started off in the morning by going to an authentic Mexican restaurant for lunch and eating the best tacos I've ever had. I cannot wait until I can upload my pictures online so you bitches can see how amazing these tacos were. I left and finally did what I do best... catch the metro. I have an obsession with public transportation, especially metros. I always judge a city on what it's metro is like.. The metro is the way to see the real city, the real people. Every metro has something unique that makes it stand out as well. Paris' doors open before the train actually stops, London's comes almost every minute, Berlin's is over and underground, etc. Well, in Mexico city, the stops have names, but they are also represented by little pictures. How weird is that? I don't know why, but some of the stops on the map will have a Bird, some a flower, some a building. I didn't understand it AT ALL, but it was pretty damn cool. Also, it only cost .20 cent for the metro, so that's just ridiculous.
I toured the center of the city all day long and I felt pretty bad that I didn't do this earlier in my vacay. The city is beautiful, historic, big, full of people, lively and just a great place to be. I'm definitely returning now to Mexico City to see all of this again. Maybe my way of being sure I'll return to a city is to not do shit my first time around, and actually see it the second time. Fuck you Trevi Fountain, I've got my own methods! I did get a good bit of tourism in that day and lots of pictures, so I was happy. I recommend everyone to go to DF, it's a city that has EVERYTHING and ANYTHING you want. Upscale clubs, small cantinas, expensive restaurants, street vendors, neighborhoods for all, amazing wealth, unbelievable poverty, 7-11 on every corner, historic world heritage sites, fake passports.. whatever you want in Mexico City, you can get.
Cesar picked me up at 4 in front of the Palacio de Bellas Artes and he was accompanied by a friend, Alex. We drove around the city for a while reminding me how huge it was, and we stopped to pick up Ismael. We drove for a while until Cesar led me to my surprise. He had been promising me the best beer in Mexico City , and we finally did it! The place we got it from looked shady as hell. I didn't know where we were going, it was raining, the place had no doors and it didn't even have a name. After I tasted the beer, all my questions went out the window. Simply amazing. It's a beer mixed with chili, salt, lime, everything. I know it sounds weird at first, but it's the best beer ever. They served it in one liter plastic cups to go, so we just took them and got on the road. How cool is that, beer in to go cups from an establishment? Enough to keep you satisifed and also indetectable by cops.. brilliant. PS, you can't drink on the street in Mexico. Well, I guess in sinful places like Cancun or Acapulco anything goes, but the police are kinda serious in DF. PSS, driving here is outrageous. Worse than Buenos Aires.
We drove around for a while laughing and joking with Cesar and his friends. We went up a mountain, took some awesome pictures of the ridiculously large city from above, and avoided killing dogs along the way .. dont ask. We stopped at a restaurant where I had quite possibly the best quesadilla of my life and the setting was even cooler. Homemade, up in the mountains eating quesadillas by a fire.
We made our way back to the hotel late that evening and I said my goodbyes to Cesar and company. In the hotel, Pavel and I began to drink beers and listen to more Russian music. There were no more apples to juggle since we destroyed them, so we decided to leave and go have dinner. The area that we went to was SHADY, because people kept sticking their head in the taxi doors begging us to come to their place to drink. I think these places were strip clubs bc everyone seemed pretty sleazy and desperate for us to come in. At one point , one guy did over 2 for 1 drinks, but after realizing how shady he was, I declined. It was so ridiculous, people were literally trying to open the doors of the taxi to get us to come inside. We were just lookin for a restaurant, so it was pretty annoying when we had people following us whispering, "hey, prostitute?" "taxi?" "2 x 1 special" "table dance?". It was like they all knew each other, and they all knew the same places to recommend to us. Even the street vendor tried to offer us prostitutes when we asked for a restaurant to eat in.
After all the shadiness, we made our way to a restaurant where it looked normal, and we ate and drank a shit ton of wine. We left and started walking around the area again, this time a bit drunker, so we took one of the guys up on hsi offer about showing us a club. The first club we went into had 0 people inside, and the staff kept offering us things. I felt a bit weird, so we left there and stupidly took another suggestion from the creepbag who had been following us all night. We asked for aplace where normal people go to have fun, and he promised us that he knew of one. We got inside the place, and there were 6 pretty unattractive girls sitting at tables.. we were the only other people in there. As soon as we got inside, the girls all stood up simultaneously, came up to us and started to kiss our cheeks and introduce themselves. Ive never been overwhelmed by so many prostitutes in my life. They were all pretty old and ugly too, so we were kinda creeped out and left. We asked our "guide" what the hell was that, and he said they were just normal girls lookint o have fun. Finally he broke down and told us he was lying, and if we wanted to fuck we could pay $50 US Dollars. I told him I'd rather save it and not get AIDS, but I don't think he was too impressed. We hopped in a taxi (not one of the creepy ones) and sped home.

I did another Homer Simpson nap (3:45-4:00am), and packed my bags at 4 and jetted to airport in a taxi. At least the American Airlines Admiral Club lounge was open, so I went inside, ate some breakfast and attempted not to pass out so I wouldn't miss my flight.


I made my flight obviously because I'm here now, 5 hrs later, at work, tired as hell and dragging. Less than 8 hrs ago, I was roaming the streets of Mexico City dodging prostitues, and now I'm here in Dallas analyzing data and writing notes on my lunch break. All good things must come to an end, but I promsie you Mexico. I'll be back. Watch out Buenos Aires, you've got some major competition.

Peace,
Rob