Nenas at Friend's Birthday Party

This was taken in the outskirts of BA at a birthday party for a friend of mine's son. In Spanish, the word for puppy is 'Chachorro'! It's a good word.

Young Woman Walking Past Wall

Man Looking Out Door

Man With Cart Sleeping In Parque Lezama

This is part of my ongoing series entitled 'People sleeping outside'.

'Friends Day' is Fashionable Indeed

Friends day was last Thursday here in Buenos Aires and it was a BIG DEAL! Went to a runway show at Mint and snapped a few pictures, most to blurry to post... but fortunately I did make some new friends!

Y... LAS JEFAS DEL SHOW!

The Butterfly Effect - Chaotic Motion

These are things that I have done, learned, or have noticed over the past week.

- Even though there was a fairly recent film made called 'The Butterfly Effect' starring Ashton Kutcher, I had never heard of The Butterfly Effect until playing poker last night with the young British mathematical physicist Edd Denbee. The actually 'effect' according to Wikipedia is truly fascinating and usually used in physics to explain a technical part of Chaos Theory - sensitive dependence on initial conditions- illustrating how small changes to the beginning of a system can bring about major changes in the weather, for example... how the flap of a butterfly's wings in Brazil could cause a Tornado in Texas. "However," according to Denbee, "the movie is not fascinating. It is absolutely dreadful!"

- Today after class I bought a Boca Juniors banner to replace the framed and kitschy sea shell hanging 'thing' in our kitchen; both because we LIVE in La Boca and to shout out to a good friend of ours here who is a HUGE Boca Jrs. fan and who also has had a tough few weeks - suerte amigo!

- I finally learned how to make RISOTTO - even assisted in the cooking AND eating of it. Thanks Edd Denbee and Marina Costaguta for the help and inspiration. The secret ingredient - BACON!

- Last night I had a horrible run of bad luck, playing poker on full tilt until 5am but then made a HUGE comeback on the very last hand - heads up pot limit. My Kings and Jacks beat out Denbee's Kings and Two's. The pot was over $400 pesos and saved my ASS!

- I learned that 19.8% of the U.S. Federal Budget for FY05 was allocated to 'Defense Discretionary' spending and that 19.3% was allocated as 'Non-Defense Discretionary', but I have NO IDEA what 'Non-Defense Discretionary' really means? My guess is that we are paying for the Iraq war with some if not most of the later funds. Funny how I didn't see EDUCATION anywhere on the pie chart or the Congressional PAY RAISE that U.S. Senators allocated for themselves a few months back!

- I safely boarded, rode and lept off the #10 collectivo (bus) today on the way home from school without banging my head on the handrails the entire time.

- For the first time in my life I had a sty in my eye which swelled up almost closing it completely. But then thanks to the local pharmacy that acts-as-doctor on the corner, they sold me some ointment and its getting better. But DAMN! Marina told me its from riding the busses and then wiping your eyes. Won't be doing much of that anymore!

- Speaking of busses, I saw a beautiful woman today out the window of the bus that I thought, for an instance, was Sarah Wheeler.

- I (along with Ethan) had a mild to medium case of dysentery (splatter-ass) which I determined was actually not caused by my lentil stew. I ate the last of it from the fridge day before yesterday... todo bien.

- And, today both in Spanish and English I finally began to grasp the concept of the 'SUBJUNCTIVE' form of the verb. In English, it is "a situation or condition that is untrue, not yet true, or highly unlikely." Ex.--use of "were" instead of "was" in this sentence--If I were you, I would submit another application before the deadline date, this to me via email from my dear Mom. The thing is that in Spanish, they actually change the form of the verb in many tenses to reflect the 'subjunctive condition' not to be confused with the 'conditional' condition. Wait... that vaguely reminds me of a song I can't seem to recall off hand.

- Speaking of songs, Marina and I practiced our version of the duet called ELEPHANT LOVE MEDLEY(?!) from Moulin Rouge over the weekend in preparation for our big BA Karaoke debut. 'Love lifts us up where we belong, where eagles fly on a mountain high'. I also 'agreed' to do a duet with the lovely, super smart and flowery Jennie Burke, another young Brit who studies at Oxford (gasp!) from the movie Grease... what am I thinking?! "You'd think that people would have had enough of silly love songs..." (also from Moulin Rouge)


Note: another funny side bar is that the other 'California' BAD Marina is a HUGE Moulin Rouge fan and agreed to burn down the house with me on my next visit back home with the Elephant Medely Song at Karaoke. That's one song, two Marinas and me, who can't sing worth a damn but is finally ready to face my karaoke fears.

Labratorio Para Idiotas

Speaking better Spanish was one of my three primary goals upon relocating to Argentina. The University of Buenos Aires or UBA, offers a twice yearly one month intensive ‘Spanish for Foreigners’ course, which had been on the clanender for over a month now. I had finally convinced myself (and Ethan) that this intensive course was not only imperative but also critical to both of our future successes here in Latina America. Needless to say we were upset when we both woke up three hours late for the evaluation exam because we were playing poker until five in the morning.

The intensive version of this Spanish course is three hours a day, five days a week for four weeks. It is also very popular with gringos and fills up quickly. Get here early was the only advice I had received when initially investigating the course. We bolt into action and arrive at the Language Laboratory campus disheveled and unshaven, jumping from the cab almost before it stopped. The younger woman at the information booth tells us that we’ve missed the morning round of testing and have to return at 5pm later that same day. We are both handed slips of paper with the numbers ninety and ninety-one on them and leave, dejected and also a bit sick to our stomachs, which may or may not be attributed to my burgeoning cooking skills and my now somewhat infamous lentil stew.

We return well before 5pm and wait around until after 5pm only to realize that the testing has already begun in another room. We each receive our two-sided sheets of paper, which along with an oral evaluation will place us between levels 0-6. At first glance I almost burst out laughing as the exam looks impossible and I realize once again that I can speak much better Spanish than I can read or write. At one point I caught Ethan’s eye and just whispered, “don’t forget to include ‘Paraguay’ in one of your answers!” We both laughed out loud and continued to plug away, writing something, anything on the fairly cryptic exam. When I finally turned in my test, the woman in charge at the front table was trying to slowly communicate to a younger male Japanese student which level that he was going to be in. He politely nodded his head at her and she turned to her collegue and said in Spanish, "he doesn't understand a word I'm saying." She then simply made a zero sign with her hand and said to him once again in Spanish - "ZERO!"

Afterwards we both had a good laugh and Ethan asked me about that one question which was something about ‘How much does your sister cost?’ I only remember the one that was something like ‘If there’s a terrible storm_______________.’ My answer was something like ‘you need to run cause you might get hit by a bolt of lighting’, which I totally misspelled beyond the point of recognition so badly that she actually asked me, ‘and what we’re you meaning by this answer?’ (Ethan put some like '... agua y agua y AGUA!')

As we wait for them to grade our tests I’m thinking she probably won’t even be able to decipher my horrible penmanship, let alone actually score the test. After about an hour of waiting and watching Ethan randomly bump into two different women that he knows from his first visit (more on that strange and slightly surreal experience later – although I can say that he did throw himself on the floor after Stella, his ex-Spanish teacher left the room causing half of the students to turn around and look back, seeing him laying face up on the floor) I get called forward and sit down with one of the all-female instructors to go over my exam and to chat. “All of your answers are fine and there are only a few minor mistakes, but I noticed that you didn’t use the subjunctive at all, either on your test or your verbal answers. Do you know the subjunctive?” she asks? “Umm… I think I’ve heard of it,” I stuttered back trying to fake some kind of answer. “OK – level four, you start on Monday.”

Ethan tested into level two and just like that this painfully hysterical situation is over and now the challenge begins. I’ve taken three college courses since dropping out of college my senior year at San Diego State University and am not that thrilled to be back at it. Spanish was one of my worst classes and I think I failed level three twice back then. And that was almost twenty years ago. At least my class doesn’t begin until 2pm unlike Ethan’s rude awakening for his 9:30am level two course tomorrow morning. [TBC]

Freedom?

The 4th of July - Dia de Independencia de Los Estados Unidos

Today marks the day that the founding fathers of the United States signed the Declaration of Independence in 1776, two hundred and thirty years ago, demanding independence from the King of Great Britain. And what a long way we’ve come, from colonial patriots to hot dogs and hamburgers, parades, BBQ’s, baseball and yes – FIREWORKS - my personal favorite, although in many US cities you aren’t actually able to buy them, just the hot dogs and the charcoal.

In the words of Founding Father John Adams, the holiday would be “the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from one end of this continent to the other, from this time forward forever more.” (Wikipedia)

Guns?! Hmm… I think some of the only places where you can actually celebrate the Day of Independence with firearms currently in the States are West Oakland, East LA and maybe some parts of Philly and Northeast Washington D.C. Maybe that’s a constitutional right that we can bring back into mainstream America – shooting off firearms instead of fireworks, or why not both?

Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness – that’s what the founding fathers wanted for future generations. Currently Freedom from terrorism is our government’s main preoccupation. "We’re gonna smoke ‘em out!" said President G.W. Bush a few years ago, speaking at the beginning of the war against terrorism which began in Afghanistan in response to 9/11. Unfortunately the terrorists, who used to be our allies helping us fight the Russians in Afghanistan throughout the 1980s, all fled to Pakistan and lands beyond. Sure we nailed some of them along with a bunch of innocent civilians but by all accounts, we’re still in a ridiculous quagmire Afghanistan.

And now we’ve got Iraq, motherland of all civilization and a sacred holy land to millions of Muslims who don’t eat hotdogs or play baseball. We’ve even helped them implement their own coalition government as well as their very own constitution. Now they can pursue life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness as well.

But what actually is liberty? According to the dictionary it’s defined as: “the condition of being free from restriction or control. The right and power to act, believe, or express oneself in a manner of one's own choosing.” Hmmm? Not sure that’s what we’ve got planned for Iraq.

What we really stand for in today’s post-modernist, consumerism First World is a different kind of freedom. A freedom to choose which type of cleaning detergent we’d prefer, how we’re going to afford a bigger house, and which color of the latest fuel-efficient car we’re going to buy (must include stereo with an iPod jack). We want to maintain our abilty to consume—the status quo in our privileged First-Word form of Life, Liberty and Freedom. We fight to continue to maintain our Number One status at the expense of anyone who gets in our way.

Speaking during the darkest days of World War II, President Roosevelt reminded American citizens: “So is it now…. The tough, grim men who fight for freedom in this dark hour take heart in its message -- the assurance of the right to liberty under God -- for all peoples and races and groups and nations, everywhere in the world.”

Too bad that doesn’t ring true today as we continue to spread armed conflict around the world, primarily with the stated goal of fighting terrorists in order to allow others, among other things, to practice religious freedom. But isn't it really more of a question of, “Our God is mightier than your God,” which is what Christians along with many others have been fighting for since the beginning of religion?

Here in Argentina, July 9th marks the day that Argentina declared its independence from Spain. Largely seen as nothing more than a political dog and pony show, it’s not really a celebration so much as a day of remembering that they are still under some kind of foreign control; whether its control from the World Bank and the IMF, foreign financiers or the Yankis – that come for the water! At least in Argentina they eat hot dogs, which are called panchos.

Note: The photo is a posed shot of two Cartoneros with a model named Arceli in a shoot called 'Tomando Sol' or 'Sunbathing' which is part of an ongoing series that I am shooting on the trash recycling aspects of city life here in Buenos Aires. I'm trying to show a fictional contrast between their lives and work and the rest of the city.

Vamos Argentina... Todavia!

Words simply can not express what it feels like after today's tough loss against Ze Germans.

R.I.P. – Bar Britanico – R.I.P.

Sadly we must say chau to the infamous Bar Britanico on the corner of Parque Lezama in San Telmo. Our beloved and gracious bar at the corner of Defensa and Brasil that used to never close, has finally closed its doors – forever.

As I met up with the young British mathematical physicists Edd Denbee today for a match of ‘Paddle’(1) – which ended in a technical draw due to time constraints; 6-2, 4-3 (Denbee) – we realized that we had scheduled our match at the exact time that Spain was to play France in the World Cup (2). We rescheduled for later and headed to San Remo Pizzeria to watch the game. That’s when Edd told me that Bar Britanico actually had shut down. He said he actually came out of the Piso Loco and saw the crowd gathered for the actual closing. In his own words:

“After more than 40 years the shutters finally fell on Bar Britanico. Los ojos de Bar Britanico se cerraron. The moment passed as Britanico had always lived, quietly, peaceful, without making a fuss. As the dirty shutters rolled down, filthy from lack of use over the last 40 years, there was no shouting, no fighting, just silent reflection on all the events that had happened inside those doors.

The TV cameras filmed, half a dozen policeman stood silently, arms folded, a handful of people with cameras tried to capture the historic moment. Inside a lone waiter swept the empty bar for the final time. The end of an era some might say.”

Ironically as we rounded the corner there was Tony (3), ‘Sub-Editor of the Buenos Aires Herald’ and the Bar’s worst but most steadfast gringo patron, sitting alone on a small stool in the tiny annd cold corner Pancheria (hotdog joint) just a few blocks down from Britanico, also on another corner of Parque Lezama... looking forlorn and lost. “His life must be upside-down,” says Denbee, or something to that effect - a sad day indeed.

1 – A strange purely Argentine invention which uses a tennis ball, a tennis net and something just smaller than an actual tennis court but is played with these giant poly-carbonate paddles with holes in them, similar to racquetball paddles but much larger. It’s also similar to squash (I think), which I’ve never actually played.

2 – Which as most of you will know by now ended 3-1, with France scoring TWO goals in the last ten minutes… damn FROGS!

3 – Tony, as I’ve written before is the guy that looks like the lead singer of ‘Simply Red’ and has been called among other things, ‘the laughing stock of the Buenos Aires Herald,’ mostly because he either comes into work drunk or falls asleep at his desk because he is hung over.

Afghanistan, Rambo III & The War(rior) Within

A slight digression, but this is what happens when you can’t sleep late at night and you flip on the tube in Argentina; bad movies on bad television – badly exported American culture/propaganda.

Released on May 25, 1988(1) towards the end of the Cold War between Russia and the USA, RAMBO III finds ex-Green Beret commando John Rambo (Sylvester Stallone) (2) stick fighting in a pit, much like Ultimate Cage fighting of today, somewhere in Asia and winning, giving all his profits from illegal gambling to the Buddhist monks that he lives and works with. Then one day Colonel Trautman (Richard Crenna), his ex-commanding officer from Vietnam tracks him down at the monastery where he is working peacefully with his bare hands, chiseling away at a tall tower with a wooden mallet. Colonel Trautman tells him about a secret mission to assist rebel ‘Freedom Fighting’ forces in Afghanistan to bring down the weakening Soviet Army.

"My war is over Colonel,” says Rambo in that monotone voice that preceded Keanu Reeves. “John, when are you going to stop fighting yourself? You’re a warrior and always will be. We [the U.S. Army] didn’t make you this way, we just chipped away at the rough edges,” replies Colonel Trautman. Rambo declines and the Colonel leaves.

Time passes and the Ambassador to Afghanistan returns to the monastery alone to inform Rambo that his ex-Colonel has been captured by the Russians and is being tortured against his will. In one scene the Russian commander says to the Colonel, “If you’d studied your history you’d realize that those people [Afghans] would rather DIE than be over run by invading forces.” Sound familiar?

If you look at the history of the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan starting in 1979 you’d see the U.S. playing Cold War in Afghanistan. Zbigniew Brzezinski, National Security Advisor to then President Jimmy Carter, had this to say in a 1998 interview with Le Nouvel Observateur: "That secret operation was an excellent idea. It had the effect of drawing the Russians into the Afghan trap..." [...]"The day that the Soviets officially crossed the border, I wrote to President Carter. We now have the opportunity of giving to the USSR its Vietnam War. Indeed, for almost 10 years, Moscow had to carry on a war unsupportable by the government, a conflict that brought about the demoralization and finally the breakup of the Soviet empire."

John Rambo travels secretly to Afghanistan, befriends the Mujahideen rebels who caution him against any attempt to rescue his former Colonel, and learns about Jihad. Declaring that he doesn’t care if he dies trying to save his ex-Colonel, one of the wizened guerilla warriors responds, “Us Mujahideen warriors, holy warriors, consider ourselves already dead, so we fight till the death so our children won’t have to.”
It has been widely reported that indeed the CIA was secretly funding the Mujahideen Freedom Fighters with FIM Stinger ‘man-portable surface-to-air' missiles, which is the premise of this film and also the beginnings of Al-Qaida, a point on which I must further digress.

Robin Cook, former British Secretary of State and Leader of the House of Commons sums it up best: “Bin Laden was, though, a product of a monumental miscalculation by western security agencies. Throughout the 80s he was armed by the CIA and funded by the Saudis to wage jihad against the Russian occupation of Afghanistan. Al-Qaida, literally "the database", was originally the computer file of the thousands of Mujahideen who were recruited and trained with help from the CIA to defeat the Russians. Inexplicably, and with disastrous consequences, it never appears to have occurred to Washington that once Russia was out of the way, Bin Laden's organization would turn its attention to the west.”

Unfortunatley, the US Government doesn't see it this way. For their official explantion, visit the U.S. Government's Department of State's 'Identifying Missinformation' page. And as for the CIA, they issued this official statement in response to the hypothetical question "Has the CIA ever provided funding, training, or other support to Usama Bin Laden?": "No. Numerous comments in the media recently have reiterated a widely circulated but incorrect notion that the CIA once had a relationship with Usama Bin Laden. For the record, you should know that the CIA never employed, paid, or maintained any relationship whatsoever with Bin Laden (emphasis in original)."

The landscape in the film really does looks like Afghanistan, at least from what I’ve seen in TIME Magazine and on CNN. There's the desert, the mountains with cavernous tunnels, skinny men with beards and clothes wrapped around their heads like turbans... even the music for the film conveys the landscape, almost sounding like the great American composer Aaron Copeland’s vivid compositions, portraits themselves of the vast Western American landscape.

Amidst huge explosions and special effects, (3) Rambo almost single-handedly rescues the Colonel, kills off most of the Russians soldiers (4) guarding the fortress, and escapes, which brings more Russian troops after him as he and the Colonel try and reach the border with Pakistan (sound familiar again)? Facing what look like Apache attack helicopters, a few Russian tanks, and about a hundred Russian soldiers, here come the Mujahedeen on horseback to save the day and Rambo’s ass.

As the film fades to black and before the credits begin to roll, Bill Hedley starts his soulful rendition of ‘He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother’. Big bold block white letters appear, simply saying “This film is dedicated to the gallant people of Afghanistan". And then if you actually read the credits, which I don’t think most people do, you learn more interesting facts about the film. Not only was it shot on location in ISRAEL (and Arizona) but the weapons AND helicopters were provided by ISRAEL!

Even more ironic is the special thanks to then U.S. Republican Senator Pete Wilson who would become Governor of California just two years later. WHAT?! And now we’ve got Arnold Schwarzenegger, another Rambo-type in office. Talk about cover-ups and Illuminati conspiracy theories and gross misuse of American tax-payer dollars! (Perhaps a bit of a stretch but for recent news on deteriorating US - Afghani relationships check out the latest blunder as reported in the International Herald Tribune).

1 – Ironically (again) ten days before the first withdrawals of Soviet troops from Afghanistan.

2 – Sly actually co-wrote the film and was nominated for a Razzie award for worst screenplay. He actually WON the Razzie award for worst actor for this film.

3 – According to IMDB, at the time of release this was the most expensive film ever made with a budget weighing in at $63 million. To date the film has grossed $189,015,611 in revenues.

4 – The film was also noted by the Guinness Book of World Records (1990) as the most violent film to date. It was noted with 221 acts of violence and over 108 deaths (IMDB).

Italy vs. the USA

It's a 1-1 tie with 60:00 minutes on the clock and it seems like the US has been dominating the game so far, at least the first half. It also seems like the referees are a bit card-happy dishing out the red cards a bit unecessarily, prematurely. But at least the US is making a stand, 'playing with heart' as Papa put it.

Now Italy is coming on stronger here in the second half. Both teams need to win this one, not tie, especially the US. It's hard not to catch World Cup fever living here in Argentina. I was woken up yesterday to the honking of horns and shouting on the streets after Argentina, super-well poised to move forward beat, actually slaughtered Serbia-Montenegro, 6-0. But here, the word on the street is the fear of Brazil. No one talks about it but everyone in Argentina fears Brazil, probably the whole world.

The US just scored but there was another penalty and it didn't count. Too many penalties. It's funny how they keep showing blonde American chicks with big tits jumping up and down waving US flags. That's what the rest of the world expects, thinks of Americans, especially American girls. And then the fat US fans, shaking their bellies, also jumping up and down.

Here comes another 'tiro libre' or free kick for the US... missed. Actually the US goal keeper is the hero so far with several excellent saves. 74:00 on the clock and its still 1-1 and here comes another tiro libre for the US. The US has had SO many opportunities to shoot on goal and just can't convert... that's the difference. If Italy had half the chances they probably would have scored twice as many goals by now. At least that's what I think the commentator said in Spanish.

Italy is striking hard with one minute to go. Here they go again... nada. I guess a tie is better than a loss for US!

Maybe the Revolution WON'T Be Televised

Maybe... it won't even happen at all. I must bring to your attention this interesting and somewhat provocative article by Tony Long who writes for Wired Magazine based out of San Francisco.

Is it really that we are all just too 'busy;' paying rent, buying lofts, getting drunk, or just watching TV to really care, or act or to revolt? Sure we talk and laugh and get MAD about it all, sometimes. But when it really comes down to IT, nothing happens, no one learns and nothing changes. But as we all (or not) learned way back in college, 'the only thing that is constant IS change' (and I can't even remember or find who said it... starts with a 'P'). Something will change...

Here's a quote I did find which is semi-relevant. "It is necessary to understand that war is common, strife is customary, and all things happen because of strife and necessity." Heraclitus 500 B.C.

The Anonymous Lawyer

OK - here's a slight deviation but just had to throw it out there. This is a letter I just wrote to the Anonymous Lawyer, who's blog is now handily linked over there to the right, towards the top with the other links. He also relaunched their corporate website (including information on their Baghdad office) and has a new book coming out as well (1). All good shit.

Dear Anonymous Lawyer,

After catching pieces of your blog here and there I had to finally
link to it, a privilege that I usually save for close and personal
friends. Perhaps it was watching 'Legally Blond' last night for the
first time, dubbed in Spanish at 4:30am inspired me. Or maybe its my
new 'freelance' virtual sales job with Nolo Press out of Berkeley, selling
sponsored ads for their new nationwide attorney directory for the Fletch Monster, not really
sure.

But I do always at least smile if not laugh when reading the few posts
that I actually take time to read and I know nothing of the legal
profession other than through friends of mine in their late thirties or forties that
work as Paralegals or in the Legal Department, making lots of money and hating every minute of
it.

Keep it up,
Goyo (2)

1 - Here's what Alan Dershowitz, a professor of law at Harvard, and the author of thousands upon thousands of terrific books, including his latest, Preemption: A Knife That Cuts Both Ways, says [about the Anon's new book]:

"I know who the Anonymous Lawyer is! He's my former students, their bosses, and their colleagues at the big firms. This hysterically funny novel made me laugh and cry -- laugh at my profession, and cry for the talented students who sell their souls to these soulless law firms. This is Grey's Anatomy for lawyers, with a touch of Seinfeld. You don't have to be a lawyer to laugh out loud at Anonymous Lawyer. Everybody will be talking about this book and seeing a little bit of themselves in its exaggerated truths."

2 - And low and behold, the Anonymous Lawyer who now writes under the pen name Jeremy Blachman responded within about two hours, hard at work I imagine, late at night.

"Thanks. Your e-mail means a lot. I really appreciate it.

Being a paralegal seems really unbearable. I don't know how your friends do it. Although at least they get paid overtime.

Best,
Jeremy"

Bar Britanico Y La Copa Mundial

Still hanging on for dear life, our beloved Britanico marches on. The deal is this: they are facing a rent hike of close to $6000AR/mo, which, for its prime ‘tourist-tested’ corner location on Parque Lezama in San Telmo could somehow probably be justified. But for the cheap drinks and the twenty four hour service that Manolo and crew dish up daily, its just too much.

But it still feels like old times, even at 4:30am over a Stella Artois on a Thursday night (Friday morning). A group of Espanoles order round after round of F& C’s (Fernet & Cokes), three large women come in with some very dark blacks, probably from Brazil or Northern Africa. The cat, simply named ‘Cat’ stretches our across the middle of the floor in front of us as we order another Stella.

Then, as if exactly on cue, in walks Tony, the drunken Welsh regular who is also the laughing stock of the Buenos Aires Herald. I first began to blog about Tony back in November when I first arrived, referring to him as simply, ‘Simply Red’. There’s enough of resemblance to warrant the reference. Now he’s just annoying and obnoxious, even when being critiqued from afar in secret.

Tonight he meets up with a lovely-enough younger woman and much to our chagrin begins the biggest mockery of a travesty of a sham that ever existed, as we are forced to shield our eyes and hang our heads as he starts making out with this young thing; brandy glass and cigarette in one hand together, dangling in the air. Luck be a lady tonight as I have to acquiesce, everyone deserves a little loving now and then, even I guess Tony.

Today is Argentina’s first appearance in the World Cup and they are leading over the Ivory Coast 2-0 with 72:00 on the clock. The streets are empty as almost everyone is watching. They cut away to Maradona sitting in the stands with who I think is his daughter. The Ivory Coast finally scores with 82 minutes on the clock and its 2-1. Argentina wins and the party begins.

Note: There is a great, and I mean GREAT exhibition of photos on right now all shot inside the Bar Britanico at a gallery on San Juan 427 (@ Defensa) that is entirely worth checking out. I’ll post more details (like the photographers name) and a few of his photos later.

Ten Dollar Holla

Bad TV (and bad movies on TV) is soo much better when you're in some lawless border town that borders on not just one country but two (that's three countries sharing the same border, thus the triple border region that is Paraguay, Brazil and Argentina). "Hey, I'm not a lesbian, I'm bi-sexual," says the hot blonde and only female member of Average Joe's Dodgeball Team as she finishes making out with some other hot red-head and grabs Vince Vaughn by the shirt and mad kisses him too. They defeat all the odds (50-1 underdogs) and take out Ben Stiller's team and win in the finals in Vegas.

Now I'm watching the Simpons dubbed in Spanish and the phone rings. I imagine its Ethan or eNano as he is known down here which translates to a cross between dwarf and midget, calling from NYC baked off his ass and wanting to talk some more about his pending return to Buenos Aires. He'll be second in command of the USS 'Dos Polares' or 'Two Poles' Antarctic exploration team based here in BA, which we successfully resurrected from the ship grave yard and kept afloat a few months back. Plus no one else knows where we are staying in caudate del Este, at least not which room.

"Hola," I answer.

"Si, yo soy Aldolfo," says the mysterious voice on the other end. "Sam just left en collectivo [bus]," the voice continues but only now in pretty good English.

"He sold his car?" I ask.

"Yeah, we make a good business," says Alfredo.

I had received a note from the front desk upon my return from the car lot saying Sam was with some guy and they had driven 112km. outside of the city to some Ranch (which turned out to be a German Mennonite colony) to sell his car. It sounded a little sketchy but what was I gonna do - there was nothing too do at this point except to continue to watch the Simpons.

"How much did he sell it for?" I ask.

"$1,200USD," says Adolfo.

"And when is he going to be back into town?" I ask again, trying to get all the info I can up front just in case something goes wrong, or already did thinking that now this NOS is riding on a bus in the middle of nowhere with all those greenbacks on him.

"Maybe about an hour, hour and a half," says Aldolfo again in decent English.

"Thanks for the call," I say and hang up, taking a sip off of the Old Smuggler whisky that I smuggled into Paraguay and add a little Coke to it and smile. We can't get Makers down here even if we could afford it. At least the car is gone and off his hands, mind and heart and we can do Ciudad del Este up right on a Friday night despite the repeated warnings.

Outside dusk was approaching and the city swiftly shuts down right at dark leaving its streets deserted and dangerous. I headed out anyways and bought a small Paraguayan flag, changed some money on the street and kept my wits about me despite a few warnings that its not safe to be walking around alone and I didn't even have my camera with me. What a great country!

El Raton Peréz is NOT from Paraguay!

June 2, 2006 - Ciudad del Este
11:45 AM - Barrometric Pressure down to 29.36 inHg

It´s our third or fourth day of hanging just outside of town on a used car lot drinking tereré (cold mate w/o sugar) and talking... about anything and everything. Our guy who owns the used car dealership has invited us to lunch. Sam declines deciding to check out his last two possible buyers and we walk across the street with the owner's daughter and her boyfriend, I think. There´s a bus attendent hanging out of the side of his bus looking for fares with a colorful shirt that just says 'Albert Einstein'.

We eat at the busy comedor about the supermercado and next to the paint store and chat. The Paraguayan version of their history over the past 200 years is very different than say what the Argentines would say, also very different than what the LP South American Guide says, no fault to Morgan Konn I´m sure (also in my previous post I credited Carolyn Hubbard with the Ciudad del Este hotel recommendation when credit due goes to Morgan. We also think Morgan and her writing on Paraguay is some of the strongest in that guide - hats off Morgan!)

It´s always hard to get accurate information about what is really going on and about what has really happened in the past anywhere, especially if you´re a poor thrid world country in Latin America recovering (or still living) under a vicious Dictatorship like Paraguay. Our guy at the car lot is trying to help us but comes clean this afternoon and says he doesn´t have a buyer for the car. We´ve already decided to leave tomorrow morning regardless of what happens today. I´ve been so tempted to jump from here up to the North of Paraguay from some more solo exploration but need to get back to BA and back to real work, RealBuenosAires.com work.

The thing is before arriving in Paraguay I had given up on the speculative rumors of the clandestine US Military base up in the Chaco desert as nothing more than lefty conspirist theories and bad journalism by the Argentine press. Just recently the US Department of State´s 'Identifying Misinformation' Branch updated this report (a MUST READ for anyone that cares about how the US decieves the rest of the world)and completely denounced these rumors as purely false, but inside of Paraguay its a completely different story indeed.

"Not only do they have the base in the Chaco, they´ve got one in Concepción as well," the assistant to the Consul at the Paraguayan consulate in Posadas, Argentina tells me. "They are right next to the Paraguayan bases but no one is allowed near them, not even the Paraguayan military." Since arriving inside of Paraguay, EVERYONE I´ve talked to agrees with him and encourage me to head up to that area to see for myself, but not this trip. Our used car salesman who is also organizing a group to overthrow the current and continuing Dictatorship which hides under the political smokescreen of the current Paraguayan President Nicanor Duarte and his Red Party told me he´s actually seen the US top seceret 'UNO' planes landing and taking off in the desert.

I´ll come back later, better prepared and with a plan. It´s not like I´m going to just run up to the Chaco, take pictures of the bases and get a couple of interviews wtih some US Marines on why they are here in Paraguay. "They´ll put a bullet in your head," one source tells me. But if they do indeed exist as the Consulate in Posadas confirms, Rumsfield is an even bigger liar than I thought cause he was year just last year and denied it over and over. But what was he doing here? This isn´t Iraq, there are no terrorists and its not about emergency medical aid or democracy or even freedom, that much abused and overused word. It´s about sucking the blood out of our neighbors to the South so we can preserve our way of life and stay on top at the expense of most others. But its really about our 'precious bodily fluids...'

After lunch while waiting for Sam to return with or without the car the car sales man stands up and points across the street towards some shacks. "How can those poor people live and cook on the street like that with all the dust and car pollution while two powerful and rich countries just across the rivers from us swim in US Dollars?" he rethoically askes. "You see that guy pissing on that tree? It hurts my eyes and makes my heart ache because I planted it thirty years ago, but where else can he go? There´s no running water and no toilets but yet they [the politicians] drive around in their fancy Mercedes and look the other way," he finishes while sitting down and wiping his eyes.

Black, blue, yellow and green butterflies duck in and out of the shaded overhang as I wait another thirty minutes for Sam chain smoking the worst cigarettes I´ve ever tasted in my life - they smell and taste like rat poison is the closest way I can describe them. That then reminds me of El Raton Peréz which is the Rat named Perez and is the Argentine equivilent of the tooth fairly, only its a rat not a fairy. Two more guys piss on the same tree and then boss tells me he´s got another small meeting to attend but if I need anything to just call him. He gets into a huge white custom pickup truck with tinted windows darker than black smoke and drives off. I wait the thirty minutes for Sam who doesn´t show and grab a cab back to the hotel. [TBC]

Paraguay - The Final Frontier

Ciudad del Este, Paraguay
18:45 - Wednesday, May 31, 2006

It´s been a long time since I´ve been in a true third world country the likes of Honduras, Salvador and Nicaragua and Paraguay sure is a lot more like those places than it is like Argentina, especially when one is held sequestered in Buenos Aires. This is gonna be short even though there is soo much to say since the Interent doesn´t quite work as well here as it does elsewhere but Paraguay is now my new favorite country!

Having heard many stories from Ethan when he was here a year ago on a month long photo trip for Lonely Planet (which didn´t actually pan out so well for him in terms of LP and the photos, even though the photos were good) and having read only a little of what Carolyn worte in the LP South America Shoestring Guide (props on the hotel recommendations here in Ciudad del Este, we like the Hotel Munich even though the American style buffet is more European than anything but I think at least four of the five places you recommended are on the same street within a block from The Munich and that there are plenty of other choices closer into the the heart of the city... I know, I know, never enough time or money to really 'tell it like it is'),I really didn´t know anything about this place except the one day I was here in Encarnacion last year with DP and Aimee, and that was a great day even though we did have to bribe our way into the country (US Citizens coming to Paraguay now need a $45USD Visa for a one-time entry good up to ninty days which can be obtained at the consulate in Posadas). Now I feel as if alot of the speculation about Paraguay and especially Ciudad del Este has been put to rest, at least in my mind and that I´m much more up on what´s really going on here. A few thoughts as there is soo much to tell...

- Paraguayan´s love to burn things, especially trash
- Paraguayans are very friendly, more so than Argentinians
- Ciudad del Este up here in the lawless triple border region is NOT nearly as dangerous as most Argentinians say OR as bad as the guide books make it out to be
- I´ve seen more guns in CDE than anywhere else since El Salvador
- It´s NOT very easy to sell a car with American plates for the price the car is worth in say Argentina (and even harder to do IN Argentina)
- There was a big protest today on the bridge to Brasil that shut it down
- I can buy a gun here if I want to, even an AK-47
- Most security people in the small corner stores have bullet proof vests and pump action pistol grip twelve guage shotguns (go Wheeler!)
- I had the best haircut of my entire life by a very cute Paraguayan that even used a straight razor behind my ears! ($2USD)
- The local currency is NOT called pesos, but rather Guarani and $6,000 Guarani is equal to $1USD ie - lunch today for two cost $15,000 Guarani but was really only $2.50USD
- People here don´t really have much Guarani and 95% of Paraguayans actually speak Guarani, which is an indigenous or 'Indian' language (Ethan, maybe you can comment on what you told me about the Paraguayan Dictator´s son that thought he was Napolean and something why everyone here speaks Guarani
- A guy showed us a photo that he took last week of a ten foot long Anaconda Python (which is small since the average length is nineteen feet) being held by like himself and five kids, although it didn´t have a head
- Did I say its my new favorite country?

By the way, props to LP author Lucas something or other for the 'Authors Choice' Gran Hotel Turismo recommendation in Corrientes, from the most recent LP Argentina guide. Although you failed to mention ANYTHING about the second largest border crossing into Paraguay over the bridge from Posadas, the Casino that was right next to the Gran Hotel Turismo in Corrientes (that you also failed to mention) was AWESOME, even after we both lost all of our money and it was 5AM! (I´ll have to write about the two 19 year old Argentinian hitch hikers we picked up on the way to Posadas later... all´s I can say is that they were a lot of fun to pick up.)

Revolution!, NOT Independence

I stand corrected that yesterday el 25 de Mayo was not the day of Independence, which is the 9 of July, but rather six years earlier marking the day the revolution begin. I have yet to read one history book on Argentina other than their recent dealings with the World Bank and the IMF so am pretty clueless other than a very general picture that goes back a few hundred years.

But, that's not what this post is about. It's about two things, maybe three.

The first and simplest is that as dumb as it may sound, I went karting again, tonight, just a little while ago, go karting on 250cc machines of molded plastic seats and heavy steele frames.. As many of you know, some serious rib injuries occurred that last time I did this with Ethan and the boys a few days before my trip back home to the States almost a month ago. But, the offer was there with private transportation to and from the track and I couldn't not defend my title and just couldn't say no. Plus this cute Australian was going as well. Mistake. Even though I won the first 30 lap race which meant that the other three had to pay my $35 peso entry fee, my ribs were hurting, more than they had since the previous accident. But after the second and final race I just didn't care... tearing around that track, lap after lap, trying to maintain position, defend my lead, pass the slower drivers without crashing or hitting the wall... It's simply brilliant. But now I'm achin' pretty good, but not as bad as the last time, just slowed down the healing process.

But the second more important recent development is this road trip I've signed to go on to Paraguay, Ciudad del Este. specifically. Sam needs to sell the car he drove from Philly to BA which as US plates and no one here will touch it. Google Ciudad del Este, Paraguay and you'll find that by most reports its the wildest and mostly lawless city in Latin America where anything is possible - anything. And I've got this opportunity and have been wanting to go and now I have a ride and we leave today at 4pm. Photos, gonna shot a lot of photos of this strange, anonymous and very unknown danger zone. They say there is Al-Queda, mafia, CIA... the whole works.

And the third thing... don't remember. But living way down south here in Argentina continues to be like no other place in the world I've ever been and is just so hard to describe, or even live. It takes being open to opportunities, chances, calculated risks, heart and balls - pelotas. And it just keeps on getting better...

Independence Day - El 25 de Mayo

5.24.06
Barrackas, Buenos Aires

It’s the day before Independence Day here in Argentina. Most of the some 42,000 taxis that roam the streets day and night are proudly flying the Argentine flag. A blind man gets on the semi-crowded bus I’m taking across town and starts his way towards the back. I can barely ride the bus with good eye site, but he with his cane and all starts passing out pens to the passengers, pens to write with, pens that say Staples on them. He starts into his delivery about what quality they are and there can be no value on these pens. I take one, a red one as do most of the other passengers. Thinking to myself I can never have enough pens I listen carefully for the price, but it’s never given. I see other passengers digging for change and I figure its more of the sliding scale donation plan. I shell out a peso but tell him that I want a blue one, not red. He asks me if he’s holding a blue one – no. I’ll take a black one I as I trade the red for black. The guy across from me gave him two pesos for his pen.

Luis, Ricardo, Tommy and Sam, these are some of my Argentine friends. One is actually my roommate and is paying his rent (or will if allowed by the landlord) by writing for the web site project for me on the side. He drove his car from Philly to BA, that’s why I hired him. Sam Slaughter… that helped also.

Marina, a very good and dear friend of mine has taken ill with a piece of wood that fell into her eye while tending to her guinea pigs. Now she’s in a world of pain and can’t see… it befuddles me how these things happen to us, either by our own actions or by forces that we can not control. It’s been a rough year for her she tells me, ‘especially since I met YOU!’ she adds. I feel bad and there's not much I can do... but I think I'll see her tomorrow if she's up for it. We can't even watch a movie which is our favorite thing to do. She's up on her films more so than I these days.

The heater is working but drips water out on the balcony which then drips down right in front of the main door to the apartment building, which then gets the tenants into an uproar as if I’m not being a responsible tenant. That is to be fixed on Sunday or Monday but for now the bucket catches most of the drips as long as I remember to dump it every so often.

Today is now el 25 de Mayo, Independence Day, but since most Argentines don’t feel very independent of foreign influence and have serious doubts about their current, past and future governments they don’t really celebrate as say Americans would the 4th of July or even Argentines do on say Christmas or New Years Eve, going crazy with the pyrotechnics. What a country, todavia.

Oh, and here's a few snapshots from my trip back to California http://grphoto.net/sftrip/index.htm