Seashells and Sunflowers | Necochea, Argentina

Visitors from Gringolandia

2009-11-08T18:24:00.001-03:00

My dad and his wife Deb made it down here to Necochea for a brief but action-packed visit at the end of October. They had originally planned to travel in July, but the swine flu epidemic and resulting hysteria here in Argentina threw a monkey wrench in their plans, and in the end they decided that springtime might be a more apropos time for a visit. Unfortunately, rescheduling the trip meant they would only have six and a half days with us!

Given the short duration of Dad and Deb's visit, we spent most of our time in Necochea so we could show them around the city and the countryside, as well as enjoy time together with Daniel's family. Our itinerary closely resembled that of last October's visit, when my dad, stepdad and I came down prior to the big move. We took Dad and Deb on the tourist circuit – the river, the port, the beach, the park. One day when the weather wasn't quite conducive to sightseeing, we took them shopping in the city center; let's just say they did their part to contribute to the local economy.

Late Wednesday evening after a filling picada, we said our goodbyes to Daniel's family and boarded the overnight bus to Buenos Aires. We managed to squeeze in a half day in Colonia del Sacramento, Uruguay and a walking tour in Buenos Aires before we returned to the airport on Friday evening to see them off.

Despite the whirlwind nature of the trip that left us all dragging a bit by the end, we still managed to have an unforgettable visit with Dad and Deb. Besides, you know any trip that involved a photo like this one had to be a good time:

[We encountered a cattle caravan near the beach as we drove along the coastal road to Punta Negra.]

Click here to view some of the other zany and wonderful snapshots from my dad and Deb's visit.

Bizarre Foods – Argentina Style

2009-11-04T11:13:00.001-03:00

Calling all foodies! Here's your chance to help get Argentina featured on the Travel Channel's Bizarre Foods with Andrew Zimmern. I was contacted by one of the show's researchers for help in compiling a list of some of the strangest, most unique foods that Argentina has to offer. Here are some examples of the people, places and grub that the production team is looking for:

Markets that have unusual foods
Restaurants that serve unusual foods
Chefs that specialize in something bizarre
Interesting street food
Traditional foods that have survived generations
Foods that are common for "family meals" at home
New food trends that are popular
Activities that are popular or representative of the culture that have some sort of food element to them
A food that is made in a very interesting way that we could show the process of
Interesting people who do something with unusual food

Or any other bizarre foods that might not fit any of these categories but are interesting and can fit in the show somehow!

Also, since Argentina is such a large country, the show will need to focus on just one or two areas. Which areas do you think would have the best unusual foods?

If we round up enough funky foods for Andrew to sample, the Travel Channel will send him to Argentina to film an episode! So, let's hear it in the comments: what are some of Argentina's most unusual eats?

Photo credit: Travel Channel

Province of Buenos Aires Says "Chau" to Plastic Bags

2009-11-02T01:10:00.001-03:00

In an attempt to cut down on the environmental blight of plastic bags, the provincial legislature of Buenos Aires passed a measure banning the use of environmentally-unfriendly bags in supermarkets. As of October 15, 2009, supermarkets and hypermarkets in the Province of Buenos Aires must use degradable or biodegradable bags. Smaller markets were given an additional year to come into compliance with the law.

A few months back, in preparation for the new law, displays of reusable cloth "Eco-bolsas" sprang up at our local supermarkets with a bit of signage explaining the benefits of using reusable shopping bags. While the plastic bag legislation represents an important step forward, I applaud the modest efforts at raising environmental awareness and promoting green alternatives (even if they are partially [or completely] financially motivated).

Daniel and I usually bring our reusable cloth shopping bag with us when we run errands around town, and we frequently get funny looks for refusing a plastic bag. It seems that some cashiers have an instinctive reflex to bag even the smallest item, and sometimes they just won't take "no" for answer. At least now when customers are bullied into taking a grocery bag, they'll receive a more environmentally-sound option at the supermarket checkout thanks to the new law.

Unfortunately, litter and waste management are real problems here in Argentina. While the issue of plastic bags may seem like a drop in the bucket in comparison to the country's larger problem of trash and what to do with it, it's promising to see that the province is taking a step toward a greener Argentina.

For more information about the law, take a look here and here.

Photo credit: ThreadBeaur

A Letter to My Mother

2009-10-26T09:28:00.001-03:00

"To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die." – Thomas Campbell from Hallowed Ground

Dear Mommy,

The weekend following my 28th birthday was the last evening I spent with you before you slipped away. You had invited me over for a home-cooked dinner and the requisite birthday cake, although we didn't bother with candles that year. Admittedly, I don't recall what we ate, but I do remember sitting around the table together, enjoying the meal. After we finished eating, Sarah, Marianna and I giggled as we took silly photos of ourselves making poses like the girls in "Charlie's Angels."

We laughed and smiled and had fun together as a family; that is the vision of you that I hold in my mind, not the shell of a person that lingered here on Earth just a little longer thereafter.

After you were gone I cried but not much. I looked for answers but found painfully few. I silently drowned in the darkness that flooded over me. Grief made me feel hollow and numb, and for a time I shuttered my heart, keeping out even those closest to me. Losing you was the most difficult thing ever, and there were times that it was hard to see through to when there would be good times, happy times again, though I knew they were there waiting, shrouded in the mist of an uncertain future.

While you taught me countless lessons while you were here with me, the biggest lesson was one that I learned through your death. The clichéd yet sobering truth hit me that life is too short, too unpredictable to not take a few chances, to change even when it means changing everything. The some-day-I-might-get-to-it mentality no longer seemed like a viable option.

Losing you gave me the insight to recognize my dissatisfaction with certain aspects of my life and the courage to do something about it. After all, was I going to let inertia decide the course of my life, or was I going to take charge of my own destiny?

* * * * *

When I was applying to colleges, I recall that you didn't want me to go to a school out of state because you feared I would settle down somewhere far away after I graduated. When I wound up going to Drexel – just 40 minutes from home – you still had the occasional grumble. Admittedly, sometimes I do wonder, She didn't want me to leave Pennsylvania…what would she think of me living in a different hemisphere?!

In general, you weren't a terribly adventurous person. You once told me that you admired the fact that I am so outgoing and willing to take a bit of a risk. Although we were quite alike in many ways, you recognized that trait in me as one of the great differences that set us apart. Starting over in a new place has been a challenge, but I feel confident that you would be proud of the way I am handling all of these changes, even if it's something you wouldn't have chosen for me or couldn't have envisioned doing yourself.

I wish you could have met Daniel, to see how much he loves me, the way he smiles when he looks at me and I at him. You would have loved Daniel's family, and you would instantly recognize them for the good people that they are. Knowing that I am in good hands, you would feel at ease with me living so far from everyone else that matters in my life.

Three years later I can say that the darkness has been cast out and the shutters opened wide. There are smiles and love and laughter here, just like that last night. Just like you would have wanted.

Que descanses en paz, Mami.

Intermission

2009-10-22T20:33:00.001-03:00

We interrupt this regularly scheduled blog to bring you…well, another blog. You see, I am now writing a guest post every week for Transpanish, a translation blog focusing on the Spanish language and Hispanic culture.

Since this week has been insanely busy with translation projects and preparations for a visit from my dad and his wife (yippee!), I haven't quite had a chance to put the finishing touches on the posts I have waiting in the wings.

So, dear readers, I submit for your approval these two fine articles crafted exclusively for the lovely people at Transpanish: The Use of Neutral Spanish for the U.S. Hispanic Market and English Words with a Spanish Pedigree.

Of course, both posts are riveting, but I particularly recommend the second one where I explain a bit about the origins of everyday words like chocolate, hurricane and rodeo.

By the way, if you’re a word nerd like me, I recommend the book Spanish Word Histories and Mysteries: English Words That Come From Spanish. This book provides a detailed explanation of the etymology of 150 Spanish loan words found in the English language, and it manages to blend geekiness and entertainment in just the right proportions (and trust me, that's no small feat).

I promise to post something hot off the presses pronto!

Photo credit: 7-how-7

No Switch to Daylight Saving Time for Argentina

2009-10-16T21:08:00.001-03:00

After reviewing reports indicating that the switch to Daylight Saving Time did little to save energy, Argentina's government scrapped plans to spring forward one hour on Sunday, October 18^th.

Argentina reintroduced Daylight Saving Time back in December 2007 after a long absence, but the measure proved unpopular in many of the provinces. Several provinces opted not to observe Daylight Saving Time in 2008-2009.

Argentina Standard Time is UTC/GMT –3, which places Buenos Aires 1 hour ahead of New York City while the U.S. is on Daylight Saving Time. When Americans set their clocks back to Standard Time on November 1^st, Argentina will have a two-hour time difference with the East Coast.

Go here, here or here for more information about the Argentine government's decision to forgo Daylight Saving Time.

Photo credit: Robbert van der Steeg

My Traveling Michis

2009-10-16T00:43:00.001-03:00

The airport. Scene of thousands of travelers scurrying about, the squawk of the PA system, harsh fluorescent lighting, and confusion – bucketloads of confusion. It's a lot for a human to bear let alone a cat. I remember standing in line with my stepdad at the American Airlines check-in counter at JFK with my two cats in tow, their carriers perched atop the mountain of luggage piled onto our cart. Nothing seemed to faze them. Cocoa and Ziggy attracted attention from everyone around us, and I fielded questions from other passengers in both Spanish and English about the cats' travel plans, as if they were some sort of visiting foreign dignitaries.

After passing through security, the cats were whisked away by an airline employee and sent to the belly of the plane, re-emerging some 12 hours later on the conveyor belt at Ezeiza, none the worse for the wear. In fact, I'd venture to say that they probably slept better than I did on the flight. The cats were fantastic travelers, and I was shocked at how quickly they adjusted to their new surroundings once they arrived in Argentina. [If you're interested in detailed information about traveling with pets to Argentina, see this post I wrote last year about the process.]

At the end of my visit last October, I left my michis in the capable hands of Daniel and his family, and I returned to the U.S. to make the preparations for my monumental move. When I finally arrived back in Argentina five months later, I was told that Cocoa and Ziggy had made little progress in their Spanish studies. Supposedly, immersion is one of the best methods for picking up a new language, but the cats failed to learn simple phrases such as "¡Bajate!" (Get down!) and "Vení (acá)" (Come [here]). Apparently, they also didn't pick up on the fact that michi is another word for cat, one that's commonly used to get a feline's attention, especially if you don't know its name.

As one would expect, the word "siesta" posed virtually no obstacle.

Most people here are amazed that Cocoa and Ziggy are declawed (it's simply not done here), and they accuse me of being an evil cat mommy for not letting them out of the house to enjoy the great outdoors (i.e. fleas, stray animals with claws, etc.). In addition, I'm quite sure others think it was crazy to haul two cats 5,500 miles when there are a million and one cats in Argentina, but I couldn't imagine not having them here with me.

Cocoa belonged to my mom and stepdad before he came to live with me a few years ago. Every member of my immediate family has loved, doted over, and showered affection upon Cocoa, so when I pet him, it's like I'm connected to them in some way. He's a constant companion and the consummate lap cat.

Ziggy tends to be more independent than Cocoa, but she still loves attention. She has grown particularly fond of Daniel and his mom over the last year. The most blissful look comes over her face when Daniel picks her up and cradles her in his arms.

On October 3^rd, the cats reached their one year anniversary here in Argentina! They still don't know how to speak castellano, but at least they figured out "miau."

[The end – literally!]

Happy 128th Birthday, Necochea!

2009-10-12T11:34:00.001-03:00

October 12^th marks not only El Día de la Raza, a day to celebrate Hispanic heritage and Columbus' discovery of the Americas, but it's also the city of Necochea's birthday! In 1881, Ángel Murga founded Necochea, a city of some 75,000 inhabitants located on the Atlantic coast in the province of Buenos Aires.

[That guy on the horse hanging out in the back happens to be the city's namesake, General Mariano Necochea. His statue is located in the city's main square, Plaza Dardo Rocha.]

The festivities to celebrate the founding of the city stretch over three days and include musical entertainment, activities for children, food, stalls with arts and crafts by local artisans, and more food. Did I mention there's food?

[Whole pigs are being roasted as part of the asado popular, a huge community barbecue organized by the city.]

[The art of the asado is not to be rushed. These two asadores (barbecue pit masters) are passing the time with a cigarette and some mate while they keep a watchful eye on the piggies above.]

[Beef rules the day over in this corner of the celebration. The smoke and aromas that waft through the air whet the appetite (and make my eyes water).]

[A pochoclera selling peanuts, popcorn, and cotton candy, plus some kind of snack that bears an odd resemblance to Fruit Loops!]

[Just in case you aren't gut-bustingly full after gorging on barbecued meat, here we have some churros and doughnuts. You're practically assaulted at every turn by a choripán (grilled sausage sandwich), a slice of homemade cake, or an empanada. Thank God photos are fat-free.]

[One of the many folkloric music performances (this is the part where you use your imagination since I didn't take any video).]

I was looking forward to watching the destreza criolla (a display of gaucho skills and horsemanship akin to a rodeo), yet somehow I managed to miss it. The paisanos in their traditional garb always make for a good photo op, don't you think? Well, there's always next year.

[A photo of two criollos that I snapped at last year's celebration]

Happy birthday to my adopted home of Necochea!

Lunfardo: Slang from the Streets of Buenos Aires

2009-10-10T20:04:00.001-03:00

Argentine Spanish is peppered with words and phrases from Lunfardo, a vast slang vocabulary developed on the streets of Buenos Aires around the turn of the 20^th century. Criminals and other shady characters looking to keep their activities under wraps developed Lunfardo by borrowing and twisting words from the melting pot of languages that surrounded them, allowing them to communicate with each other even in the presence of the police or prison guards. While initially used by the more unsavory element of Argentine society, Lunfardo was later popularized through the tango, literary art forms, and upwardly mobile immigrants and has become a part of everyday, informal speech regardless of social class. Today, the use of Lunfardo is most prevalent in Argentina (particularly in and around Buenos Aires) and Uruguay, though some elements have been adopted by neighboring countries such as Chile and Paraguay.

Lunfardo was largely a product of the great wave of European immigration to Argentina that took place from the late 1800s through the mid-1900s. The huge influx of immigrants hailing from Spain, Italy and France, many of whom spoke non-standard regional dialects or languages, greatly influenced the development of Lunfardo. Certain words also arrived via the gauchos of Argentina’s interior as well as native groups like the Guaraní, Quechua and Mapuche.

One of the features of Lunfardo is the use of vesre, a form of wordplay that involves reversing the order of syllables in a word. The term "vesre" is derived from the Spanish word "revés" (in reverse/backwards). Examples of vesre include café → feca (coffee), pantalones → lompa (a truncated form of the word for pants) and hotel → telo (a pay-by-the-hour love motel).

In addition to vesre, Lunfardo also employs words based on metaphors such as tumbero, a slang term for "convict" that originates from the Spanish word "tumba" meaning grave. Another example is the word "campana" (Spanish for "bell"), which describes the lookout man ready to sound the alarm should the police suddenly arrive on the scene.

For those of you looking to add a splash of color to your Spanish, the following websites have compiled an extensive list of Lunfardo words and phrases: Argentine Spanish Slang Dictionary, Wally's Dictionary of Argentine Colloquialism and Culture and Diccionario de Lunfardo.

This post was originally written for Transpanish, a translation blog focusing on the Spanish language and Hispanic culture.

Faro Recalada at Monte Hermoso

2009-10-07T22:05:00.001-03:00

As I mentioned back in this post discussing my South American lighthouse adventures, Daniel and I had been planning to travel to Monte Hermoso in springtime to visit the Faro Recalada a Bahía Blanca. In celebration of both my birthday and the arrival of warmer weather, we packed up the car and headed three hours south for a day trip.

Upon arrival in Monte Hermoso, we enjoyed a picnic lunch in the Plaza Parque General San Martín, a wooded park in the center of town. We had originally planned to have lunch at Laguna Sauce Grande, a small lake just outside of Monte Hermoso, but we had a change of heart upon seeing the choppy, gray-green water and uninteresting shoreline. After our picnic under a stand of eucalyptus trees, we set off for high adventure (excuse the pun) at the lighthouse.

[Faro Recalada a Bahía Blanca]

The Faro Recalada is a landfall light – a lighthouse that can be identified at a great distance by a vessel approaching the coast from open sea – that signals the entrance of the nearby port of Bahía Blanca in southern Buenos Aires province.

The lighthouse was prefabricated in France by the same company responsible for building the Eiffel Tower. The cast iron panels, columns and struts were then shipped to Argentina, and the lighthouse was slowly erected over a period of two years. The Faro Recalada was inaugurated in 1906.

At 67 m (220 ft), the Faro Recalada is the tallest lighthouse in Argentina, the tallest skeletal frame lighthouse in South America, and the sixth tallest overall in the world. In other words, you will be tired after climbing to the top.

[The lighthouse's skeleton]

[View from one of the windows as we climbed to the top]

[Giant nightlight aka the lighthouse lens]

[It was difficult to get a nice photo from the gallery because it has been enclosed with Plexiglas and thin metal bars. The bars happened to be bent in this spot, so this shot turned out better than the others.]

It was a tad breezy that day (and by a tad I mean there were gale-force winds). The sound of the wind buffeting the lighthouse was impressive. As we climbed higher and higher, the howl of the wind increased, and we could actually feel the lighthouse swaying, which was a bit unnerving. Fortunately, the 360º views were well worth it, although the pictures I took at the top don't really do the landscape justice.

[The tube containing the lighthouse's main staircase has a diameter of just 1.5 m (5 ft). It is safe to say that the Faro Recalada was not designed with claustrophobes in mind!]

[View of the lighthouse from the dirt access road]

After climbing the lighthouse, we decided that the best course of action would be to grab an ice cream cone. I'm pretty sure I earned it after dragging myself up and down those 3oo+ steps. We perused the offerings at Monte Hermoso's pedestrian mall, a collection of shops and a few restaurants just a stone's throw from the beach. I zeroed in on an heladería that looked promising, and we sat in the shade and enjoyed our ice cream from Helados Treiso.

[I thought a photo might be nice just to prove that I'm still alive and that a ghostwriter is not authoring this blog. That guy on the right is Daniel (yes, I do let him out of the house on occasion). I know it's hard to recognize him unless he's wearing his work clothes and half a can of paint, but I swear it's him.]

As a relaxing end to the day, we strolled along the boardwalk for a bit, soaked up some rays and took a few more shots of the town and the lighthouse in the distance.

[The sound of my footsteps on the wooden planks of the boardwalk brought back memories of summers at the beach in Ocean City and Wildwood in New Jersey.]

If you'd like to view additional photos of Monte Hermoso and the lighthouse, click here to explore my set on Flickr.

Faro Recalada a Bahía Blanca
Monte Hermoso, Province of Buenos Aires, Argentina
Open Monday through Friday, 9am-2pm and 3:30pm-6:30pm
Saturday and Sunday, 9am-7pm
Admission: $3 pesos

Recipe File: Medialunas

2009-10-03T23:17:00.000-03:00

Happiness is a few lazy hours at a café in Buenos Aires; a seat at a corner table, a cup of coffee, a tiny glass of seltzer water, and a plate with two or three medialunas. Your spot at that table is your very own piece of porteño real estate for as long as you like. Feel free to while away the hours in conversation, reflection or hunkered down with a good book – rest assured that no one will bother you.

It comes as no surprise that after a recent three-month stint in the "Paris of the South" that reader Betty, an American living in Munich with her German husband, was longing for a taste of Buenos Aires, to recapture, perhaps, those simple yet pleasurable moments that we associate with food. Betty bought some croissants from a bakery in Germany and tried to gussy them up with a sugar glaze, but they just weren't the same as the rich, pillowy, sweet medialunas that she and her hubby enjoyed here in Argentina.

Though medialunas have quite a bit in common with the world-famous croissant, they tend to be sweeter and a tad smaller than their French counterparts. They're a staple at breakfast with a café con leche or in the afternoon as a snack with mate.

There are actually two types of medialunas that are popular with Argentines – medialunas de manteca, which are made with butter and feature a sweet glaze, and medialunas de grasa, which are made with (brace yourselves) lard and tend to be flakier and more on the savory side. The basic dough for medialunas can also be used to make any number of Argentine pastries (facturas) including molinos, libritos, moños, etc.

When Betty wrote me to ask if I had a good medialuna recipe, I replied that I did not but that I would be happy to research one for her. After reading through a number of recipes, I had all the ingredients to prepare the medialunas save one: courage! Ladies and gentlemen, this recipe is not for the faint of heart. It requires a great deal of time and patience. There's a reason people buy these at the bakery. However, I must say that when I finally sucked it up and took the plunge, I was richly rewarded. These medialunas did not disappoint!

Medialunas de Manteca [Argentine Croissants]
Recipe adapted from myvirtualcook and Ciberchef

Ingredients

4 c. (500 g) all-purpose flour
2/3 c. (150 mL) whole milk
2 large eggs
2 tsp. (10 g) salt
1/3 c. (65 g) sugar
0.9 oz (25 g) fresh yeast [also called compressed or cake yeast] 3/4 tsp. vanilla extract (optional)
1/2 tsp. lemon or orange zest
2 sticks plus 2 Tbsp. (250 g) unsalted butter
egg wash [1 egg yolk plus 1 Tbsp. milk]
sugar glaze [see directions below]

Directions

Making the dough:
Combine the first seven ingredients in the bowl of a stand mixer, and mix with a dough hook at low speed to achieve a dough that is soft and slightly sticky, about 15 minutes. If kneading by hand, continue for an additional 15 minutes. Place the dough in a bowl and cover it with plastic wrap. Allow the dough to rest at room temperature for 30 to 40 minutes.

Preparing the butter:
While the dough is resting, place the butter between two large sheets of plastic wrap. Pound the butter with a rolling pin to soften it slightly (you want the butter to be malleable but still cold). Roll out the butter until it forms a uniform rectangle about 1/8-inch thick. Remove the top layer of plastic wrap and sprinkle the lemon/orange zest evenly over the butter. Chill the butter while rolling out the dough.

Rolling out the dough:
Turn out the dough and roll it out on a lightly-floured surface, lifting and stretching the dough and dusting with flour as necessary, into a large rectangle. Arrange the dough with the long side nearest you. Place the butter in the center of the dough so that the short sides of the butter are parallel to the long sides of the dough. Fold the dough like a brochure: the left third of dough over the butter, then the right third over the dough. Brush off the excess flour with a pastry brush. Roll out the top and bottom edges of the dough a bit, and then fold them over as well, completely encasing the butter.

Once again, roll out the dough into a large rectangle. Do your best to avoid tearing or puncturing the dough to prevent the butter from escaping. Fold the dough again in thirds, taking care to remove excess flour with the pastry brush. You have just completed your first "turn." Place the dough on a cutting board or sheet pan lined with parchment and sprinkled with a bit of flour, and allow the dough to rest for about an hour in the refrigerator.

Make 2 more turns in the same manner, chilling the dough about an hour after each turn, for a total of 3 turns. If any butter oozes out while rolling, sprinkle your work surface and rolling pin with flour to prevent the dough from sticking. If the dough develops small cracks or tears (and it will, trust me), try to fold strategically so that the offending portion gets covered up by the top flap of dough. Wrap the dough tightly in plastic wrap and chill it overnight.

In the morning, roll out the dough into a large rectangle. Inspect the dough for any large clumps of butter. If you see that some of the butter has still not completely incorporated into the dough, do one more turn before proceeding with the next step. [Note: I wound up having to do an extra turn.]

Assuming that the dough is ready for the next step, using a chef’s knife, divide the dough down the center into two large pieces. Place one piece to the side (or chill it in the refrigerator) and cut the other in half horizontally. Then cut the dough into long triangles.

Shaping the medialunas:
To shape each medialuna, gently tug and stretch the dough to elongate the base of the triangle and then pull slightly to lengthen the triangle. Carefully begin rolling the base of the triangle toward the point. Continue rolling up the medialuna with one hand as you stretch the point lightly with the other hand.

Place the medialuna on a sheet pan lined with parchment paper, making sure to keep the point tucked underneath. Bring the two ends together and press lightly to join them. As you form the medialunas, arrange them fairly close together on the pan (they should be touching). Repeat the cutting and shaping procedures with the remaining piece of dough.

Proofing and baking the medialunas:
When all the medialunas are on the pan, place them in a fairly warm, draft-free area. Allow the medialunas to rise slightly (you don't want them to double in size) and then brush them lightly with egg wash.

[For a version called a vigilante, roll up the dough but do not curve the ends inward. Place the vigilantes very close together on the pan (they will be touching). Brush lightly with water and sprinkle with sugar prior to baking.]

Bake at 400º F (200º C) for approximately 20 minutes or until deep golden brown. You may need to rotate the pan halfway through to ensure even browning.

Once the medialunas have cooled, brush them with sugar glaze for sweetness and an appealing shine.

Sugar Glaze [Almíbar]

Ingredients
The ratio for the sugar glaze is two parts sugar to one part water. Feel free to adjust the following amounts, taking care to respect the ratio.

2 c. (400 g) sugar
1 c. water (200 mL)
a few drops of vanilla extract (Note: do not add vanilla to the sugar glaze if you opted to add it to the dough)

Directions

Place the sugar and water in a small saucepan over medium high heat. Stir with a wooden spoon until the sugar completely dissolves. Bring the sugar syrup to a boil and continue cooking for about 3 minutes (do not stir the syrup after it comes to a boil and while it's cooking), until you reach the thread stage (230-233º F or 110-111º C).

[Note: Even if you don't understand Spanish, I highly encourage you to watch the following videos from myvirtualcook on YouTube: Medialunas de Manteca y Facturas Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3. I cannot stress enough how helpful it was to actually watch someone prepare the medialunas step by step.]

After all that work, sit down and enjoy the fruits of your labor!

Tip: Whatever you do, don't think about how many calories you're consuming.

Invite your friends and family over so you can bask in their unending praise for your baking skills. Well, that and the fact that you'll need some help eating since medialunas are best enjoyed the very same day they are baked.

Photo credit: nathansnider

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Are you looking for more Argentine recipes? Click here to browse the entire Recipe File.

Happy International Translation Day!

2009-09-30T23:06:00.001-03:00

September 30th is recognized as International Translation Day. The celebration coincides with the feast day of St. Jerome, one of the most influential translators of all time (you may have heard of his tiny project known as The Bible). In addition to translators, St. Jerome is acknowledged as the patron saint of other studious types such as librarians, archaeologists and archivists.

Translators play an important role in society. As the International Federation of Translators points out, "Translators today are cross-cultural communication specialists and essential business partners; without their expertise, it is difficult to work successfully across borders." Anyone who has tried to work off the instructions included in ready-to-assemble furniture from China can attest to the impact a bad translation can have on your day. Just imagine if the stakes are higher than a faux mahogany bookcase.

So, back to the party… Since all celebrations should include a bit of liveliness and humor, I submit for your viewing enjoyment the following video.

[If you can't view the embedded video, please click here.]

Happy International Translation Day to all!

By the way, if you're looking for a good Spanish translator, I know where you can find one. ;)

So This Is What Spring Feels Like

2009-09-24T23:26:00.001-03:00

As a result of moving to Necochea from Philadelphia just before the start of the northern hemisphere's spring, I have lived an entire year of chilly, drizzly, snowy, icy, slippery, frosty, cloudy, blustery, gray and glum. Apart from two weeks of early spring weather that I enjoyed briefly last October when I visited Necochea with my parents, a seemingly eternal cycle of fall and winter – shortened days, gray skies, and all – has been the order of the day.

Though bone-chilling temperatures are far from the norm in these parts, on the coldest days I did struggle a bit to keep warm. Buildings in general are not well-insulated here, and windows tend to be rather drafty. On the chilliest of days I made sure to bundle up in various layers, and sometimes I'd take the laptop to bed in order to work huddled under the covers with the warmth of the cats at my side. Miraculously, I also made it through two consecutive cold-and-flu seasons virtually unscathed (just a minor cold back in Philadelphia), including dodging the bullet of the A/H1N1 swine flu floating around here and causing quite a panic.

On most winter days in Necochea the highs were in the 40s or 50s; the nighttime lows here were the highs for the day back in December, January and February in Philadelphia. In spite of warmer temperatures, the wind chill factor here will get your teeth chattering in no time (Necochea's almost constant coastal breeze sees to that). With that said, the moderating influence of the Atlantic ensures that it never snows here, and the milder winter weather means that we have some flowers to perk up the landscape, even in the dead of winter. I admit to feeling a twinge of envy when I saw a live telecast of the snow coming down in other parts of the province about 8 weeks ago, but it was short-lived (both the snow and the envy).

After I left Philadelphia, there were no more chapped lips, no dry hands, no winter boots, no heavy winter coats, no snow days, no shovels and no ice scrapers. Honestly, winter here felt more like a long, drawn-out autumn minus the colorful fall foliage, but the heavy grayness took its toll on my spirit, and I'm pleased to welcome spring at last.

So as those of you in the northern hemisphere usher in the crisp fall days, here's what I'll be savoring:

[Yellow calendula]

[Flowering Japanese cherry trees in Parque Miguel Lillo]

[Cherry blossoms on the tree in our backyard]

[These tiny wildflowers have popped up everywhere!]

[Plum tree flowers]

Happy spring!

Giddy Up!

2009-09-21T23:01:00.000-03:00

Daniel's uncle Roberto owns several horses, and he invited me to go riding this past weekend. I was quite excited since I love to ride, and I hadn't been on horseback since January. Roberto and Daniel's cousin Mery came by around 10am to take me to the farm in Quequén where the horses are stabled. After saddling up our mounts, Roberto, Mery, and I set out with two other pint-sized riders named Franco and Juan Cruz. Destination: Costa Bonita.

As we left the farm, we crossed over the highway and made our way down a lonely gravel road. The scenery at this point was rather dull, so we passed the first few minutes of the ride chatting about the horses. Once everyone had limbered up, we moved at a quicker pace and soon we were intermittently cantering and galloping, taking advantage of the fact that there wasn't a soul around.

Only 30 minutes or so into the ride, my horse Pancho suffered a severe wardrobe malfunction, which left me with an intimate knowledge of the ground and an opportunity to contemplate the wispy clouds up above. I was just coming off of an exhilarating gallop and I had slowed Pancho to a trot when I felt the saddle slip suddenly to the left; the metal clasp of the cinch, the long strap that secures the saddle to the horse, had broken and come undone. I let go of the reins so as not to yank the horse's head, and I tried to fall in a controlled manner as gravity had its way with me. As luck would have it, my left foot got caught in the stirrup, but thankfully Pancho stopped immediately when I fell or I would have been dragged along beside him.

[My trusty steed Pancho (foreground) was cool under pressure.]

I landed squarely on my left side with an enormous thud that knocked the wind out of me. My companions all rushed to my side, bombarding me with questions and examining the cinch dangling at Pancho's side. I lay there on the ground for a couple of minutes to catch my breath, and then I stood up to assess the damage. My rump and lower back hurt like hell from the impact, but nothing was broken, not even my camera, which thankfully I'd slung over my right shoulder.

[Side note: I'm beginning to think that Sunday afternoon plans involving the village of Costa Bonita are cursed. Do you remember this adventure from a few months ago?]

Roberto managed to jury-rig the cinch, and I gamely climbed aboard Pancho once again, reassuring my companions (and myself) that I could continue. Our band of five turned off the gravel road and onto a dirt path, passing by fields of recently planted wheat with its bright green stems waving in the wind. We then made our way down the curving, dusty lane to Costa Bonita, opting to detour the last stretch of road in favor of a more picturesque route.

We ambled across the undulating hills formed by sand dunes fixed in place by grass and other vegetation. At one point we crested a dune that provided a vista of the ocean in the near distance, and we gazed all around us at the peaks and valleys of smaller dunes covered with the brilliantly red-tinged leaves of uña de gato. We later marveled at a large shifting dune that had consumed a pair of utility poles, with just the uppermost portions sticking out from the sand.

[A couple of kids having some fun on the slopes of a giant dune.]

Roughly two hours after leaving the farm, we arrived to Costa Bonita, where we met up with Mery's fiancé Pato and a couple of friends. After tending to the horses, we got down to the business of preparing lunch. Pato and his friend were in charge of preparing the pollo al disco – chicken cooked with onions and peppers in a huge, footed iron pan over the fire – while the rest of us snacked on some potato chips and soda.

Once our meal was ready, I planted my aching backside in the sand and proceeded to enjoy my chicken sandwich. After lunch we all relaxed a bit, and I took the opportunity to lie down and take a bit of a snooze. Unfortunately after about an hour and a half of inactivity, my muscles had tightened up so badly that I could barely walk let alone continue on horseback. I decided that I would have to throw in the towel and ask for a ride home.

Today I am very sore, but amazingly I have just a couple of minor scrapes and bruises. I thought for sure that I would have a horrendous black-and-blue patch on my left side, but much to my surprise, there's hardly a battle scar to speak of! Despite my spill, I'm already planning my next outing. Just as the saying goes, when you fall off a horse, you have to get right back on.

What Would You Do for an Empanada?

2009-09-19T22:25:00.001-03:00

What lengths would you go to in order to enjoy an empanada? Well, if you're anything like Emily Kornblut, you'd search out the freshest, best-quality ingredients, you'd lovingly assemble your empanadas, baking them until they reached the perfect shade of golden brown, and then you'd put them in the blender. Yes, you read that correctly. She blended those sausage and goat cheese empanadas straight into oblivion.

You see, poor Emily broke her jaw and had to have her mouth wired shut for four weeks, prompting her to start the blog aptly entitled Jaws Wired Shut to document her triumphs and failures while navigating the uncharted waters of liquefied cuisine. It seems that one day she was jonesing for some empanadas, and so she set her oven to 425º and her blender to frappe, all the while with her bendy straw at the ready. If you ever wondered what a blenderized empanada would look like, you're in luck. All I'm going to say is that I pray to the Almighty that I never ever break my jaw. That Emily is a real trooper.

If you're loco for empanadas, may I suggest the following recipes:

»Empanadas de humita (creamy corn) from the Seashells and Sunflowers Recipe File

»Empanadas mendocinas (Mendoza-style empanadas) adapted from Argentine chef Francis Mallmann's new cookbook Seven Fires: Grilling the Argentine Way

»Empanadas de jamón y queso (ham and cheese) and empanadas de atún y morrón (tuna and roasted red pepper) by Rebecca at From Argentina With Love

»Empanadas de viento (Ecuadoran onion and cheese empanadas) from Laylita's Recipes. [We'll forgive the fact that they're not Argentine since they look absolutely mouth-watering!]

Enjoy these recipes, but please do yourself a favor. Skip the blender.

Photo credit: pablodf

One for the Ladies

2009-09-12T20:01:00.001-03:00

Warning: If the word "tampon" makes you squeamish or offends your sensibilities in any way, I suggest you skip this post and go read this one instead.

Although Argentina is a Catholic country, attitudes towards sexuality have shifted, and many Argentines have developed a more liberal viewpoint on controversial topics like premarital sex, homosexuality, and nudity. However, it seems that certain topics pertaining to the realities of the human body remain taboo.

No one seems terribly bothered by the enormous poster around the corner that prominently features a woman's tanned backside (it's an advertisement for car batteries – go figure). I frequently pass newsstands and kiosks filled to the brim with men's magazines, with little to no attempt made to cover up "the goods." Birth control pills are available here without a prescription – simply ask and ye shall receive.

Yet when I go to a pharmacy to purchase tampons (sinful, sinful!), they must be carefully wrapped in paper and taped up like some bizarre Christmas stocking stuffer and then placed in a plastic bag, lest someone see that I've bought a box of this downright scandalous feminine hygiene product. To make matters worse, if you happen to be in a pharmacy where they have everything stocked behind the counter, you're subjected to the horrified looks of other customers as you ask for your 20-count box of regulars. Dear God, she uses those things! I'm pretty sure I saw an older woman faint once right after I bought a box.

If you're visiting Argentina and are choosy about the products you use, I suggest you pack your own supply. There are only two brands of tampons available in Argentina – o.b. and Days – neither of which have applicators. There is a bright side to all of this though: if you use pads, you're in luck because pharmacies and supermarkets here have enough stock of those to last through to the next Ice Age.

P.S. It looks like the tampon situation is just as drastic in Chile.

Getting to Necochea by Bus, Plane or Car

2009-09-10T00:42:00.001-03:00

Here are some tips for traveling between Buenos Aires and Necochea.

By Bus

Long-distance buses in Argentina are a comfortable and economical choice for travel. Nighttime buses leave from Retiro Bus Station (Terminal de Ómnibus) in Buenos Aires and arrive at the bus station in Necochea after a journey of 7-8 hours. Buses that operate on a daytime schedule normally extend your trip by several hours, so it's more sensible to travel at night.

Ticket prices hover between $100-$120 pesos per person, one-way depending on the company and the type of seat you choose (semi-cama, cama-ejecutivo, suite). Here is a nice description of the different classes available.

The following companies provide bus service between Necochea and Buenos Aires (note: phone numbers are for the local offices in Necochea and main offices in Buenos Aires, respectively):

Cóndor-Estrella Phone: (02262) 42-2120/(011) 4313-1700
Plusmar Phone: (02262) 52-5553/0-800 -222-PLUSMAR
El Rápido Phone: (02262) 43-8111/(011) 4514-4899

In addition to the information available on each company's website, you can also check timetables and compare prices on the site Plataforma 10.

Most days it's not necessary to purchase tickets in advance; however, if you're traveling on a holiday or a weekend, particularly during the summer, it's important to buy your tickets ahead of time. You can purchase tickets in Buenos Aires at Retiro Bus Station or at Necochea's bus terminal:

Necochea Terminal de Ómnibus (Bus Station)
Address: Avenida Jesuita Cardiel (Ruta 86) y Avenida 58
Phone: (02262) 42-2470

By Plane

As I discussed here, the regional airline Sol Líneas Aéreas was slated to begin service between Buenos Aires and Necochea. A quick check of their website shows a map with Necochea as a destination and a note stating that service is offered during the high season; however, I would recommend an email or phone call to verify whether flights are actually available if you're considering this option.

Though less convenient, it is possible to take a bus to Mar del Plata and catch a flight from there to Buenos Aires. Aerolíneas Argentina and LADE operate flights several times a week from Mar del Plata to Aeroparque "Jorge Newbery" in Buenos Aires.

By Car

If you're driving to Necochea from the capital, expect to spend at least 5 1/2 hours traveling between the two cities. Be careful out there though – the Argentines aren't the safest drivers.

View Driving Directions Necochea-Buenos Aires in a larger map

By Train

There is currently no train service running between Buenos Aires and Necochea.

Project 365: I'm Halfway There

2009-09-06T21:56:00.001-03:00

It's been quite some time since we had a Project 365 update. I'm thrilled to report that I have made it to the six-month mark in my quest to snap a photo a day!

I have to admit that these last few months of the project have been hard, but I haven't missed a single photo (though I came close a couple of times). A number of factors have conspired to make this point in the project more difficult: the dreary winter weather, the shorter days, and the construction zone also known as my home. Let's just say that I'm glad spring is right around the corner (and hopefully, the end of the home improvement marathon along with it).

There are a couple of real dogs (no, not the canine sort) in this bunch, but I also managed to capture a few shots that I'm quite proud of. Frankly, some days I just pressed the shutter button to say that I had taken a photo while other days I was feeling truly inspired. I've come to terms with the fact that not every photo will be a masterpiece.

Though I haven't skipped a single day, I have become extremely lax about uploading the photos to Flickr. Originally I was uploading my shots every day or so, but recently I went almost a whole month without processing or uploading my photos. I'll definitely try to avoid doing that again in the future, as the backlog became rather daunting. I also experienced mild palpitations the other day when I thought I'd accidentally deleted a week's worth of photos (thankfully, all were present and accounted for).

Though the halfway point is a major milestone, I'm not declaring victory just yet. There are still six months left to go, and better photographers than I have sent partially-completed projects to the Project 365 graveyard. I'm feeling good though, and I swear my right index finger has never been stronger.

Here are the photos I've taken since the last update.

Click here to view my entire Project 365 set on Flickr.

The Evolution of an Accent

2009-09-04T16:18:00.001-03:00

I recently stumbled upon a post at LexiBlog entitled "Multiple Personalities in a Foreign Language." The author poses the following questions:

When we learn a foreign language, we may have an accent bearing light traces or strong semblances of our native tongue or we may be able to pick up on our instructor’s accent or that of a native speaker.

What happens when we have studied with instructors with various national accents or have “lived” a particular language in various countries where it is spoken? What kind of multiple personality disorder can we have when we open our mouths?

While I think it would be considerably difficult to consciously alter my accent in English, strangely enough, I haven't struggled much to adjust to different Spanish dialects and their accompanying accents. I found that it was easier to absorb what was being said to me if I internalized the differences in pronunciation by changing my accent to reflect that of the speaker.

How My Spanish Accent Has Changed Over Time

»When I first began learning Spanish in high school, my teacher for the majority of those years was a Spaniard from Andalusia. Peninsular Spanish with its accompanying "lisping" accent was drummed into me by Señor Capaldo.

»In college I dropped the European pronunciation and developed more of a Mexican accent – once again, courtesy of my professor – which persisted later on since most of the Spanish speakers I encountered in my professional life were Mexican.

»After getting to know Daniel, my accent morphed once again as I started to absorb the special brand of Spanish spoken here in Argentina, a dialect known as castellano rioplatense. Argentines are well-known for their unique accent, use of voseo, and numerous slang words. It seems that at this stage, Argentine Spanish has taken over my brain!

Of course, I still haven't managed to completely rid my Spanish of my American accent (and I don't believe I ever will), but I don't think my accent is particularly heavy (Tomás says my r's often give me away). Of course, Daniel says I speak perfectly (hah!), but other more objective Argentines have commented that my accent is relatively mild or, at the very least, pleasant to listen to and well-understood.

If you're a non-native speaker of a language, what does your accent sound like? How has it changed over time?

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Resources | Accents

I find accents fascinating. If you do too, check out this excellent resource from the blog es-xchange with recordings of native Spanish speakers from all over the map. [Scroll halfway down the page to where it says "Audio clips."]

»Click here to listen to the Argentine Spanish accent.

Do you wonder what Argentines sound like when they speak English? I've got a clip for that too. Access the International Dialects of English Archive (IDEA) to listen to English spoken with a variety of accents.

And lastly, if you're curious to hear how an American living in Argentina speaks Spanish, click here. (No, it's not yours truly.)

Food Porn: Chorizo Colorado and Salamín

2009-09-02T16:20:00.001-03:00

[Homemade dried sausages – chorizo colorado and salamín]

Tomás, Daniel's stepdad, recently prepared these dried sausages. The chorizo colorado contains hand-cut pork and a number of spices including a healthy dose of paprika, which gives it that punchy red color. The other sausage is a salamín (salami), which features a mixture of finely-ground beef and pork with spices.

Dried sausages enjoy great popularity here and are often included as part of a picada along with slices of crusty bread and cheese. Who's hungry?

Day Trip to Colonia del Sacramento, Uruguay

2009-08-31T23:34:00.000-03:00

The historic quarter of Colonia del Sacramento, Uruguay [map] was declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1995, and it only takes a few minutes of wandering among the well-preserved colonial architecture to understand why. Founded in 1680, both the Spanish and Portuguese left their mark on this small city situated along the northern bank of the Río de la Plata. Today, Colonia is a destination for thousands of tourists looking to escape the hustle and bustle of Buenos Aires for the day (or looking to renew their 90-day tourist visas!).

The Buquebus ferry terminal located in Puerto Madero is a clean, bright and modern facility (in stark contrast to Retiro station where I'd arrived by bus from Necochea just a few hours earlier). After purchasing my ticket, I made my way through security and passport control, and I plopped down on a bench in the waiting area until boarding time. I was thoroughly entertained by the little girl next to me who was playing with various dolls and plastic animals. The minutes passed quickly as I watched the giraffe climb the "tree" (aka telescoping luggage handle), and before I knew it people were lining up to board the ferry.

[Inside the Buquebus terminal]

I boarded the high-speed ferry Atlantic III and took my seat for the 55-minute crossing. We pulled away from the dock and out onto open water, crossing the muddy, chocolate milk-colored waters of the Río de la Plata, which forms part of the border between Argentina and Uruguay. As we neared Colonia the brilliant white lighthouse came into view, and just a few minutes later we prepared to disembark.

Upon arrival in Colonia – armed with experience from my prior visit – I set out on foot toward the historic quarter of the city. Since I had arrived just in time for lunch, the first order of business was finding a place to eat. After the so-so meal I'd eaten at El Torreón last October, I was hoping for a more positive experience this time around at a different eatery.

I turned off the main thoroughfare of Avenida General Flores and began navigating the back streets, where I stumbled upon a small restaurant called La Casa de Jorge Páez Vilaró, hidden along a narrow side street. The ambience of the restaurant was lovely (it's housed within a stone building dating to the 1850s and filled with period furniture and original contemporary art pieces), and I was seated in a small, sunlit interior courtyard. Unfortunately, neither the food nor the service lived up to the beautiful setting.

I ordered an appetizer of parmesan asparagus, which arrived limp, gray and drowning in a thick cheese sauce. My entrée of gambas al ajillo (garlic shrimp), though artfully presented, consisted of tiny, rubbery shrimp that were so salty I only managed to finish the dish by taking large gulps of water between mouthfuls. The service was perfunctory and indifferent, and I left the restaurant with a bad taste in my mouth and significantly less cash in my wallet.

Though lunch was a complete dud, the sunshine and unseasonably warm winter temperatures soon erased my disappointment. With camera in hand, I set off in search of some interesting shots. Colonia is very photogenic with numerous spots just begging to be photographed. Everywhere you turn there are well-preserved remnants of the past: charming old colonial buildings, bumpy cobblestone streets and even cool vintage cars (they crop up all over the place here!). The historic section is extremely walkable, and you can see most of what the city has to offer in a day.

[Iglesia Matriz (1680), the oldest church in Uruguay]

[Calle de los Suspiros – It's said that centuries ago, sailors wandered this street looking for a good time after a long voyage at sea, if you know what I mean. Wink, wink.]

[Paseo San Gabriel, a promenade along the Río de la Plata]

[Taking in the view from the Paseo San Gabriel]

[These old-fashioned streetlamps and handmade tiles indicating the street names add to Colonia's charm.]

[Colonia's lighthouse, which was first lit in 1857, lies adjacent to the ruins of the 17th-century Convento de San Francisco.]

One place I had yet to explore on my previous trip was the small port area on the northern side of the city. I thought I might find some good picture-taking opportunities over that way.

[The river sparkling under the mid-day sun]

[I couldn't resist these rusty yet colorful buoys stacked in a corner.]

[Relax and enjoy the sunshine on the pier. There's a seat waiting for you.]

[El Puerto Viejo | The Old Port]

From the port I hoofed it back to the ferry terminal at the other end of town, stopping briefly along the way to chat with an elderly woman about her two cats lounging in a picture window and the black mop of a dog at her side. I arrived about 45 minutes prior to the ferry's departure, and by the time I checked in and cleared passport control, it was practically time to head back. Once on board I settled into my seat and took a bit of a snooze, awakening at just the right moment to appreciate the twilight sky over the river as we pulled into port in Buenos Aires.

And so, after a relaxing afternoon on the other side of the river, I have just one thing to say: Colonia, I love you but next time I'm packing my lunch.

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View my complete set of photos from Colonia del Sacramento on Flickr.

On the Road Again

2009-08-24T15:15:00.001-03:00

I'm heading out late tonight on the overnight bus to Buenos Aires. I'll make a quick pit stop at Daniel's cousin's apartment when I arrive tomorrow morning, and then I'm off to Colonia del Sacramento, Uruguay for the day. If you'd like a sneak peek at the colonial architecture and cobbled streets of Colonia, take a look at these photos from my trip there last October.

Let's see if I have any memorable encounters with characters like the capitán or the Colombian convict. Who's placing bets?

Music for Your Soul

2009-08-22T16:34:00.001-03:00

The very first time I heard "Gracias a La Vida" performed by Mercedes Sosa, I was captivated by the lyrics and the dark, soulful voice of La Negra. Both the words and the music resonate deeply within me, and I hope this song touches your soul as it does mine.

I've included an English translation of the original Spanish-language lyrics so that you can appreciate the beauty that lies within the poetry of this song.

Gracias a La Vida (Thanks to Life)
Composed by Violeta Parra

Thanks to life, which has given me so much.
It gave me two beams of light, that when opened,
Can perfectly distinguish black from white
And in the sky above, her starry backdrop,
And from within the multitude
The one that I love.

Thanks to life, which has given me so much.
It gave me sound and the alphabet.
With them the words that I think and declare:
"Mother," "Friend," "Brother" and the light shining.
The route of the soul from which comes love.

Thanks to life, which has given me so much.
It gave me the ability to walk with my tired feet.
With them I have traversed cities and puddles,
Valleys and deserts, mountains and plains.
And your house, your street and your patio.

Thanks to life, which has given me so much.
It gave me a heart, that causes my frame to shudder,
When I see the fruit of the human brain,
When I see good so far from bad,
When I see within the clarity of your eyes...

Thanks to life, which has given me so much.
It gave me laughter and it gave me longing.
With them I distinguish happiness and pain—
The two materials from which my songs are formed,
And your song, as well, which is the same song.
And everyone's song, which is my very song.

Thanks to life
Thanks to life
Thanks to life
Thanks to life

Please click here if you can't view the embedded video.

Photo credit: harold.lloyd

Gaucho Rappers: The Payadores of Argentina

2009-08-19T03:04:00.001-03:00

One day while channel surfing, I happened to flip past some cultural programming where I heard the announcer mention the word "payada." Not one to neglect my education in all things Argentine, I turned to Daniel for a definition.

He explained that a payada is essentially a contest between two gauchos – an improvised battle of wits featuring poetry and song. These cowboy minstrels, he noted, are known as payadores. The payadores duel musically back and forth, attempting to one-up each other, and things finally come to an end when one of the payadores fails to immediately respond to his rival.

I considered Daniel's explanation for a moment and then broke into a grin as I declared, "So, basically they're gaucho rappers."

Though the payada may be the "perfect cultural analogue to rap music, which began similarly as a sort of street competition, requiring quick thinking and clever rhyming," [1] the payadores of yore tended to be a bit more philosophical in their musings and they refrained from using foul language. They weren't, however, shy about drawing knives if the payada concluded on a sour note. [2]

In the past, apart from providing entertainment, the payadores served an important role in terms of spreading news. As the payadores traveled from town to town, they collected stories, gossip and news along the way, which they recounted to the paisanos (rural residents) who were rather isolated from the rest of the world.

Toward the mid to late 19th century, payadores like Gabino Ezeiza – a master of improvisation and one of the most celebrated payadores – influenced Southern Cone writers as they began to explore a new genre known as gauchesque literature. These stories, inspired by the lives and deeds of gauchos, were often penned in a style that mimicked that of the payada. The epic poem Martín Fierro by José Hernández, written in the gauchesque style, is considered an essential piece of Argentine literature.

The payada is an art form that's still practiced today at cultural events, jineteadas (Argentine rodeos), and the like, though I'm fairly certain the knife fighting element has been largely eliminated. All joking aside, the payada constitutes an important part of Argentina's cultural heritage, and it's gratifying to see that the tradition continues.

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For the record, I wasn't the first person to note the similarities between the payada and rap. The following segment from a TV show called "Argentinos Por Su Nombre" features two young payadores who square off against a posse of rappers, with rather humorous results. The video is definitely worth a look if you speak Spanish, but even if you don't understand a lick of castellano, you'll at least get a feel for the rhythm and sound of the payada. If you'd rather see payadores minus the rappers, take a look at this video instead.

Photo credit: His Noodly Appendage

Citation:
[1] Tango-L
[2] Cowboy Poets and Cowboy Poetry

The Face on Your T-Shirt (aka Che Guevara)

2009-08-14T00:49:00.001-03:00

Without a doubt one of the most controversial leaders to have emerged during the 20th century, Argentine-born Ernesto "Che" Guevara and his famed image are difficult to avoid here in Latin America (and on liberal college campuses throughout the US). More than 40 years after his death, Che Guevara remains a deeply polarizing figure whose revolutionary ideals and actions inspire either admiration or hatred. Then, of course, there's the guy in Venice Beach, California who thinks Che was the inventor of the mojito.

Che is quite popular among college students who sport t-shirts with his image, more as a fashion statement than a political one. Others prefer spray painting Che's face to wearing it. And look, here's Che's ubiquitous mug reminding us to practice safe sex:

Che's bearded, beret-wearing visage is plastered or graffitied everywhere – and I do mean everywhere. But who the #@%^ is Che?

The quick and dirty answer according to Wikipedia is as follows:

"Ernesto 'Che' Guevara (June 14,1928 – October 9, 1967) commonly known as Che Guevara, El Che, or simply Che, was an Argentine Marxist revolutionary, physician, author, guerrilla leader, military theorist, international statesman and major figure of the Cuban Revolution. Since his death, his stylized visage has become a ubiquitous countercultural symbol and global insignia within popular culture."

If you'd like to know more about Che Guevara, here are some interesting articles that I came across. The first selection presents a fairly unbiased overview of Che's life while the other articles take a more definitive stance (either positive or negative) about his life and accomplishments.

American Experience>People & Events>Che Guevara (1928-1967) – PBS.org
"CIA Man Recounts Che Guevara's Death" – BBC News
"Che Guevara's Daughter Recalls Her Revolutionary Father" – The Guardian
"Time 100: Che Guevara" – Time Magazine
"This Endless Myth-Making About the Blood-Soaked Che Guevara Must Stop" – The Huffington Post

On a final note, yesterday morning I couldn't help but let out a chuckle when I opened my email and found this t-shirt featured in the weekly dispatch from my favorite tongue-in-cheek news source, The Onion.

The description of the Che Wearing Che T-shirt T-shirt: "This scarcely seen iconic image dates back to 1958, shortly after revolutionary Ernesto "Che" Guevara freed thousands from the restrictive yoke of T-shirt selection."

Now, I'm glad to see Che's involvement in the t-shirt industry being recognized, but please, whatever you do, don't forget about his crucial role in the birth of the mojito. ;)

Photo credit: Carlos Adampol