Argentine sources like to rank the top 3 cemeteries in the world: Père Lechaise, Staglieno & Recoleta… but I’m not sure I can agree with that list after visiting the Cemiterio Monumentale in Milan. Rankings are far from impartial, so I’ll go out on a limb & say it: Recoleta has nothing on Milan’s main cemetery. It’s much bigger & packed with even more gorgeous statuary. It’s greener & extremely well maintained. Supposedly Eva Perón was buried here under a false name for 17 years, but I couldn’t find anyone to ask about it. One thing is for sure: if I lived in Milan, I’d start AfterLife II!

I’d originally planned to take a daytrip to Genoa, a sort of pilgrimage to Staglieno. But the weather wasn’t cooperating & our rental apartment was near the Cemitero Monumentale, so Staglieno will have to wait for another trip. In the end, I made the right decision. The 41 photos below will hopefully demonstrate why it is the most magnificent cemetery I’ve ever visited!

No sooner had we arrived in Lisbon & Darío wanted to go to Italy… to buy shirts. Love it. He presented the idea as: “Want to go Rome? I’ll pay for the plane ticket & the hotel.” How could I deny an offer like that? But flights didn’t work for the weekend he wanted, so I suggested Milan. I hadn’t been in about 10 years, plus it’s a world fashion capital. Suddenly we were off to Italy in May.

Day 0

A late departure from Lisbon = really late arrival in Malpensa. Add to that a 40-minute bus ride into the city. But we were in bed by 01:00… fine since we were still on Portugal time.

Day 1

The loft apartment was very nice but had zero amenities. No soap, no coffee, niente. We left asap to get breakfast & shop. After a tasty latte macchiato (steamed milk served separately from the espresso, of course), Darío managed to find everything he wanted. From then on, the trip was up to me :) Prices seemed a little more expensive than I remembered, then again we were in the most touristy part of town.

We entered the Duomo briefly & immediately I thought: this is why I had no recollection of the interior… it’s unremarkable compared to all the exterior decoration. Harsh lighting, oddly hung paintings & little restoration fail to do it justice. But what incredible doors…

As we stepped outside, the skies let loose… a theme for most of the trip. Since I wanted to see the Museo del Novecento—catacorner from the Duomo—that was the best escape from the rain. With a very nice collection of mainly local Milan artists, I was thrilled to see a few more from De Chirico & a sculpture by Umberto Boccioni. Great views of the Duomo aside, one of the best pieces was Coma by Alexander Brodsky: an unbaked clay cityscape (representative of Moscow) slowly flooded with motor oil. Buildings absorbed the oil & the smell was powerful… a modern version of Venice :)

Time for lunch with rain, rain & more rain. The initial panini of ham, camembert & roasted artichokes led to another of bressola & rocket. Later, we admired the Torre Velasco, found the remnants of San Giovanni en Conca, then managed to get lost somewhere around Via Torino. We spent the afternoon finding our way back to the subway, getting soaked & stocking up at the supermarket… naturally it began to hail as we were leaving. But with such great architecture, who cares about the weather?

Day 2

Since the Cemitero Monumentale would be closed all day Monday, I woke up with a now-or-never feeling. Luckily the sun managed to shine most of the morning. I’d originally planned on going to Staglieno by train, but after reading about Milan’s major cemetery I couldn’t resist a visit. Five minutes in, it was impossible to contain my excitement… a separate post is coming soon. I left to meet Darío for lunch on an absolute high. After all, I’d seen the tomb of Mario Palanti!

Failing to find the gathering place for people dressed as Japanese anime characters, we stumbled upon the best meal of the trip: lasagna verde, eggplant parmesan & onion potatoes. Only when we got the check did I realize we were at Princi… a chain of popular eateries that I’d wanted to visit.

We walked to Castello Sforza where I ate a brownie bought from Princi. Delish but mine are better… although not as nicely packaged ;-) Visiting the castle was a great opportunity for me to see one of the inspirations for Giovanni Chiogna’s CIAE work. Then strolling through Parco Sempione, Darío saw someone on a Segway… so he wanted to try it. I’d always made fun of Segways but there was no escape. Funny thing was that after 30 minutes (15€) of zipping around the Arco della Pace, I wanted more. Ok, I wasn’t prepared to pay 30€ for tanta pavada, but it was a lot more fun than I’d expected. We had a quick drink nearby & headed back to the apartment. It began to rain again, & I was absolutely beat. What a day.

Day 3

The rain finally disappeared! We decided to take our single suitcase with us & headed to Navigli. Of the little research I’d done before leaving, one guidebook said that the remains of the Three Kings were in the Basilica di Sant’Eustogio. Unfortunately the writers never bothered to confirm details… I arrived 8 centuries too late. When Frederick I became King of Italy in 1155, he supposedly transferred their remains to Cologne. Important religious figures aside, the basilica was gorgeous & seeing the Paleo-Christian remains of the original church (constructed either in the 300s or the 500s) was good enough for me.

Next stop: the Basilica di Sant’Ambrogio… a gorgeous, Romanesque construction built on Roman ruins, decorated with 13th-century frescos, chapels with museum-quality statues & three saints on display: Ambrogio, Gervasio & Protasio (Ambrose, Gervasius & Protasius). Incredible.

Nearby, the Palazzo Viviani Cova by Adolfo Coppedè blew me away. Built in the 1910s, all I could see was how similar this building is to the CIAE buildings by Chiogna. Same time frame, same style. And just down the street was the Palazzo Gonzaga di Vescovado by Cecilio Arpesani… again, same time frame & style. What’s more, I think Arpesani married an Argentine actress, so he must have known Chiogna & perhaps even collaborated with him. I’ve got some investigating to do!

Suddenly while riding the tram, I’d remembered one Milan building I’d been dying to see. Near Corso Buenos Aires, the Casa Galimberti has a façade covered in painted tiles & intricate balcony ironwork. My reason for going: the artist who painted those tiles also painted a set for an Art Nouveau building in Buenos Aires (at Paraguay 1328). Thankfully I remembered before leaving Milan! Another wow moment.

Ursula didn’t get out much because of frequent rain, but she’s been to one more city!

General impressions

Given that Milan is the second largest city in Italy & a major financial center, I expected to see more signs of the € crisis. Not so visible.

When we spoke in argentino-italiano, no one answered in English, Spanish or any other language. I liked that. Darío thought that it might be because they knew we would understand them. But I thought it was because they just didn’t care… we had to make the effort & that was that. Either way, it was nice.

There was more interesting architecture than I expected to find. When I guided in Milan on tour, we stopped for lunch in the main square & that was about it. There’s much more that deserves to be seen… I guess I’ve found another destination to investigate & write about :)

Food was fantastic. Even after weeding out mass-produced foods at the supermarket, there were so many goodies to choose from. Made me think about the eminent return to Argentina & the current ban on imports :-/

With a research trip to Lisboa quickly approaching, I’ve been trying to organize my work flow & came across these photos from 2009. This blog was on hiatus then, so I never had the chance to write about one of the most interesting cemeteries I’ve seen.

Like so many burial grounds around the world, the Cemitério do Alto de São João owes its existence to an epidemic. In 1833, cholera devastated Lisbon so Queen Dona Maria II ordered this high ground with surprisingly good views to become the city’s main cemetery. Everyday people mix with the famous, & several important monuments are inside. Let’s take a look…

It resembles Recoleta Cemetery near the main entrance with rows of family mausoleums lining paved walkways. Some fantastic constructions like the Viscounts of Valmor mausoleum wow visitors right away. The Valmors loved architecture so much that Lisbon’s best building each year receives the Prémio Valmor.

All manner of funerary symbols can be found near the entrance gate: skulls, bones, inverted torches as columns… even a sculpted doggie:

Reminders of historical events are scattered throughout the cemetery. Below is an appropriate looking World War I mausoleum & a cenotaph to the victims of the revolution on 05 Oct 1910 which deposed the monarchy & created the First Republic:

There are wonderful examples of all types of modern architecture… Art Nouveau, Art Deco & even Neomanueline:

One of my favorite finds were tombs designed on the ideal of the casa portuguesa. Based on rural models in northern Portugal, it became a stereotype for housing by the early 20th century. Salazar even adopted this style into Estado Novo policies… heck, they even wrote a fado about it! No wonder this unique style shows up so often in the cemetery:

The chapel for final services is filled with Baroque goodness:

But after seeing so many unique mausoleums & beautiful sculptures, the crematorium took me by surprise. Built in 1925 with a bit of Art Deco detailing, a few years later it was closed… & remained so until 1985. The city government website claims the closure was due to political reasons but gives no further explanation. My best guess is that the Salazar regime prided itself on being very Catholic, & cremation was forbidden by the church at the time. A revised Canonical Law in 1983 gave more consensus to the practice.

Perhaps its closure is why the crematorium is in such fantastic condition. The decoration is so over the top that I couldn’t stop taking photos. Bones, skulls, flames & tragic tilework make for a vivid way to say goodbye:

If you like art & architecture, check it out the next time you’re in Lisbon. You’ll likely be the only tourist there!

When historians look back on Buenos Aires at the turn of the 21st century, one of the topics they will likely discuss is the unfortunate destruction of the city’s architectural heritage. Nothing seems to be able to stop it.

Buenos Aires began to take on its current look around 1890… so architecturally, the city is relatively young. Colonial structures failed to survive due to poor building materials, & Torcuato de Alvear removed older buildings to give the city a more European air. He left a legacy that travel writers would run into the ground, calling BA “the Paris of South America”… much to everyone’s chagrin these days.

But local government continually fails to see how architectural heritage contributes to the city’s image or income. Grassroots organizations like Basta de Demoler have fought against demolitions since Mauricio Macri became mayor in 2007. He blocks all efforts to preserve one of the city’s most distinguishing characters. Beyond the bitching & complaining which normally accompanies this topic, I’ve often wondered about its real cause. Most of my friends love local architecture, but there is obviously a majority who don’t care if anything in the city survives. And while powerful, greed alone cannot account for so much disregard… it must go deeper than that.

Maybe I’ve found part of the answer. I recently finished a book titled “The Collective Memory Reader,” a fantastic collection of essays about what memory is, how it interacts with past & present, our group identities (national or otherwise) & how we choose to remember events collectively. At almost 500 pages, it was meant for university study but it caught my attention & really explained a lot about Buenos Aires… even though none of the essays directly address BA or Argentina.

One essay which stood out was written by Roger Bastide in 1978:

Since memories are psychic by nature, if they are to survive they must survive in something durable; they must be attached to a permanent material base of some kind… Place, society, actions, and memory now become one…

His study focused on the disappearance of African traditions in Brazil based on place removal. Since traditions often develop with respect to their natural environment, take away the place & many old traditions become irrelevant. I thought: why not apply the same theory to the millions of immigrants who arrived in Argentina from 1880 to 1920?

During that time, Buenos Aires assumed its role as capital of Argentina—only officially recognized in 1880. With internal conflicts finally resolved, the first attempts to build national & local collective memory began 70 years after breaking away from Spain. That’s a long time to wait. But the problem goes deeper. All those European-style monuments were erected to people, places & events to which recently arrived immigrants had no attached meaning. The city’s beautification only served the landed elite. As the oligarchy paid homage to themselves & built fantastic palaces to live in, millions of new Argentines could not understand the message… nor had reason to adopt it.

I imagine that first-generation Argentines born of immigrant parents would have had a bit more attachment with the nation, but probably not until the second generation would there be any real feeling of being Argentine. Interestingly enough, that time frame corresponds with the Perón era. Could those second generation immigrants have identified with Perón in part because they were looking for a way to develop their own collective memory? Torn between ancestors who felt ties to Europe but knowing they themselves would probably never see those places? It’s an interesting coincidence.

I remember how my ex’s grandmother never obtained her Argentina passport & likewise never voted in national elections. It wasn’t important to her, & maybe she thought of herself more as Spanish than Argentine. Very likely. How many cases like that were there? This detachment may explain, in part, why Argentina had such a messy 20th century. There were two sets of collective memory at odds with each other. Everyone I know is proud to be Argentine today, but when push comes to shove they leave for Europe or elsewhere.

Even today—more than a century later—many argentinos say: “my grandparents were Italian” or “I have ancestors from Asturias.” Guess what. You’re Argentine now. Shouldn’t that be more important? I’m certainly proud my ancestors were from the UK. But I would never bring it up in a general conversation like they do here. UK readers: Love you all. Seriously. Miranda Hart: Love you most. But I’m American. I learned patriotic songs as a kid, I love the mythology of the US (however erroneous it may be), & I love feeling part of something larger than myself. That particular collective identity formed when I was a child & it hasn’t seemed to fade. But after living 11 years in Buenos Aires, I’ve never heard anyone here say something similar.

That’s where Argentina seems to have failed. The collective memory of the oligarchy did not adapt to include immigrants. And those immigrants held tight to memories they could not pass on. Their children were caught in an identity crisis that is still visible today. Official attempts to revise history & demonization of anyone who disagrees with their cause are two recent examples of that conflict. Such unhealthy policies continue to prevent the formation of any type of collective bond.

I would love to see (or do myself… with a grant, thank you) a study of what monuments or statues were built, when, how much they cost, who paid for them, how many times were they moved & the significance of their location. Tie that info to population stats & income levels of the barrios where the monuments are. What monuments are missing? What kind of attendance do the few commemorative events have? The answers could reveal some surprises.

Most academics have come to the conclusion that blatant nationalism leads to no good. I would agree. But what about a nation that has no collective memory? One of the consequences might be a lack of respect for national heritage… most visible via the demolition of the capital city’s architecture. Food for thought anyway.

During 11 crazy years of working for Rick Steves my responsibilities included everything from guiding groups around Europe to updating & writing new content for their guidebooks. Over time, I even helped develop new tours. It was an incredible learning process & very interesting to see what worked & what didn’t. In many ways, the company & I grew together professionally.

And when not wandering around Europe, I explored at home in Buenos Aires. Seeing the city on foot, stopping & lingering, & taking note of the city’s vibe became a passion. I’d come home engerized & start to seek out answers to all the questions I had asked myself during the walk. I also shared the experience, posting most of my discoveries in a previous version of this blog. That online exposure helped me meet locals—complete strangers who would kindly invite me to photograph their homes & share their family history—& I came to understand much more than I ever expected about Buenos Aires.

Those discoveries formed the basis of Urban Explorer in 2003. During our guided walks of four hours, I explained what makes Buenos Aires so unique. We walked through less visited but no less fascinating barrios like Caballito & Parque Patricios. Architecture buffs loved the Art Nouveau walk while historians like myself sought out evidence of the city’s past downtown. The walks were very successful, but I had an increasingly difficult time balancing work on two continents. I finally stopped BA tours in 2008 in order to move temporarily to Sydney.

When Jeff & I began bouncing ideas around for a new type of travel guide, one of our most difficult decisions was finding an appropriate name. How to take into account this desire to explore a city on foot, combine influences from Baudelaire & Benjamin about the flâneur & apply it to destinations as diverse as Buenos Aires & Lisbon? Some of our ideas were absolutely hilarious… not functional but at least funny. That’s what brainstorming is all about.

Finally, the phrase “I’d walk an endless mile for you” stuck in my head. Thank you, Jody Watley! :-) Walking is how I prefer to discover a city & connect with its daily life & rhythms. All Endless Mile guides are written from this perspective. Focusing on history, architecture & current events, our walks cover the most important spots—the must-sees—as well as introduce new areas to discover. EM also facilitates independent travel by providing themes to explore on your own, such as the most beautiful domes of Buenos Aires guide or the upcoming survey of tile panels in Lisbon.

There’s something fascinating around every corner, & Endless Mile provides a unique way to explore a city. Come walk with us!

With Buenos Aires content finally finished, it’s time to expand our guidebook offers. I could happily write about BA for the rest of my life, but Europe is calling. 2012 is all about Portugal with a bit of Spain too. Darío & I are off to Europe in a few weeks, & there’s no better moment to decide exactly what to research & publish.

It’s an optimistic list… I’m the first to admit that :-) Topics selected are a blend of everything I’ve learned during 11 years of guiding in Iberia & personal interests. It makes sense to write about what you enjoy most! Rough outlines for each walk are already in place, & they give me a good idea of what to focus on over the next few months. Given the amount of work involved, I’m just hoping to survive!

Below are details for guides we’ll offer this year for the cities of Lisbon, Évora, Porto & Sevilla.

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Tiles have enjoyed popularity in Portugal since the 1500′s. These days even Spiderman can be found decorating walls in Lisbon. This guide will cover the best of old & new tilework throughout the entire city… very much a scavenger hunt! Available Apr 2012.

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Self-guided walking tour through the Mosteiro dos Jerónimos in Lisbon, one of the most unique & beautiful religious complexes in the world. Surviving the 1755 earthquake, its double-decker cloister defines “awe-inspiring.” Available May 2012.

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Listing with detailed maps of the most beautiful churches in Lisbon. Portugal has always been a very religious country, but many of its churches aren’t known to visitors. We hope to change that with some surprises. Available Jun 2012.

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Self-guided walking tour of Sevilla‘s cathedral, the third largest in the world & the last of the big Gothic constructions ever made. We’ll take you step-by-step through one of Spain’s most important monuments. Available Jul 2012.

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Português Suave, an architectural style inspired by Art Deco, Monumentalism & encouraged by the Salazar regime can be found scattered all over Lisbon. We show you where to look. Unique & pretty breathtaking. Available Aug 2012.

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One of my favorite destinations in Portugal, a self-guided walking tour of Évora will take you through medieval streets to reveal this town’s best-kept secrets. Charming & provincial, this is the perfect daytrip from Lisbon. Available Sep 2012.

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Lisbon often has better weather, but Porto is a fantastic destination as well. An architecture guide to the entire city will attempt to drag you away from the port wine cellars just long enough to appreciate Portugal’s #2 metro area. Available Oct 2012.

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Lisbon majestically meets the Tejo River at the popular Baixa/Chiado area. Heart of the city, a self-guided walk tells tales of the capital’s past & present. Find out what makes Lisbon tick! Available Nov 2012.

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A self-guided walk through the remarkable heritage left by Sevilla’s 1929 Ibero-American Exposition… how it forever changed the city with fantastic architecture, public parks & a smattering of statues. Available Dec 2012.

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I’m truly looking forward to sharing some of my favorite discoveries with everyone. Now you’ll know why I can’t stop returning to Spain & Portugal :-) And fortunately, this trip won’t be all work… I’ll be taking a couple of weeks to visit Glasgow again, Bucharest & Ruse. Me? In Bulgaria? Incredible. Many thanks for your continued support, & expect reports from the road!

Very hard to believe that an entire year has passed since I reviewed 2010. It seems like the blink of an eye. But big things happened. Good things happened.

JAN – Began the New Year in London with Darío & returned a week later to Argentina. It was the only international trip I’d take during the entire year! Began making up for lost time… creating the Compañía Italo-Argentina de Electricidad Google map, creating a separate blog with the history of Buenos Aires housing projects & exploring more of BA.

FEB – Darío was due back in Argentina in March, so I had to get the apartment ready. Cleared closet space, bought furniture, etc. Condensed all my Estanislao Pirovano info for reposting. Went to the immigration office to apply for my Arg identity document (DNI). And most importantly, took a quick trip to Mar del Sur to meet with Jeff, Ceci & their newborn daughter to begin work on our budding iPhone app business.

MAR – Darío returned & I got to meet some of his family. He brought me a Mac mini, so I made the switch from Windows. And  at long last my DNI arrived. Accompanied Darío back to Esquel & took a whirlwind daytrip to Rawson & Trelew.

APR – Working on the Recoleta Cemetery app alone while Jeff tackled other projects. But it gave me the chance to catalog all 4,000 photos from 2010. I also made a resolution not to take nearly as many pics in 2011 :-)

MAY – Back to Buenos Aires, the beginning of several months of telephone problems, & more computer work in general.

JUN – Fibertel gave me 6 months of super speedy downloads. Time to watch all those movies I’d missed because of work, especially documentaries. Jeff returned to Endless Mile, but I had to take a break because of an accident. Subsequent back problems + a black eye = no fun.

JUL – Darío came to Buenos Aires for winter break. I finally unlocked my Spanish cell phone to use in Argentina. Jeff & I zoom through Recoleta Cemetery app versions 0.5 to 0.9. Awesome.

AUG – Went to the Quilmes Cemetery for research & left the next day for Esquel. Darío & I took a trip to Puerto Madryn for some whale watching. Jeff & I did a quick beta test of the app, he submitted it to Apple & it was quickly approved. A whole new era began when Endless Mile went live, & the Recoleta Cemetery app became available at the end of the month.

SEP – Back in Buenos Aires, I take the final shots for the Domes of Buenos Aires app & produce most of the content. Went for one week with Darío to explore Salta, Jujuy, Cafayate & Tucumán. Invited to a release party for a series of architecture books at the Museo de Arte Decorativo… cuz some of my pics are included. Jeff decided to leave Endless Mile because initial sales were not as expected.

OCT – Turned 41 & had to make some big decisions. Since writing & guiding has always been fun, I decided to continue with Endless Mile solo & release PDFs for the time being. Within a week, I’d released the Domes of Buenos Aires PDF & began work on the next release. Revamped the company webpage & joined the Dark Side by finally opening a Facebook account.

NOV – Worked like crazy to finish the Once PDF. Returned to the world of guiding one day for a wedding party: Recoleta Cemetery & Plaza de Mayo all before lunch. Fantastic. Celebrated my two-year anniversary with Darío in Esquel.

DEC – Next PDF: Plaza de Mayo. Turning out to be longer than I thought, but it’s exactly the kind of guide I would have wanted when I moved to Argentina in 2000. Speaking of which, I’ll celebrate 11 years of living in Buenos Aires on New Year’s Eve. Time flies!

More thoughts about the past year…

In cultural terms, 2011 was one of the best years yet. Besides watching tons of movies, I actually made a habit of reading books again… breaking away from the computer screen a bit. As always, most of what I read was non-fiction: history or cultural studies. I’d say that “La Patagonia Rebelde” by Osvaldo Bayer & “Radiografía de la Pampa” by Ezequiel Martínez Estrada were the best of the bunch. Just about finished with “The Collective Memory Reader” & loving every a-ha moment it’s giving me.

Even though it sounds a bit cheesy, 2011 has been one of the most intellectually rich years I’ve had in a long time. I’m used to being on the road & having little time to process things. But now that I’m no longer traveling for work, I have precious time to sit back & reflect. That time has been such a great gift. There are still lots of big projects to tackle, & next year Darío & I will spend a few months in Lisbon, so 2012 already promises to be crazy. At least I can look back at 2011, take a deep breath & feel content.

And you thought Once was a mess today :-) Photo by Benito Panunzi, circa 1867, part of the Colección Carlos Sánchez Idiart.

As 2001 came to an end, it was almost time to celebrate my one-year anniversary of moving to Buenos Aires. I’ll be the first to admit that I was slow in coming to terms with some of the quirks of Argentina. But I was about to learn more than I bargained for.

After the establishment of the corralito, everyone knew bad times were ahead. And messing with people’s income is a sure way to get the public irritated. However the only visible sign of the impending crisis was the bad attitude that almost everyone carried around like a huge weight. Perfect time to learn a new bit of Argentine slang: cara de culo or assface. No further explanation required. Short tempers prevailed along with many bad comments about the government… a perfectly normal reaction to the events of the past few months.

Outside the city, things were changing more rapidly. Looting of supermarkets and a few riots took place, mainly in the southern suburbs of Buenos Aires. Some of it was spontaneous and some of it was “sponsored” by the Peronist party that wanted to get De La Rúa out of office. Political parties in Argentina are known to pay people to demonstrate, make a show of public support, or do whatever is asked of them. Regardless, news coverage of these events brought to mind Alfonsín-era hyperinflation… nothing pleasant. After several consecutive days of suburban problems, looting spread to the city itself & the President announced that he would make a televised speech on December 19th.

Since televised public addresses aren’t that common in Argentina, everyone seemed anxious to see what he would say. As the speech was set for 21:00, I knew I had time for my regular evening walk around Caballito. I used to take frequent walks mainly to escape from the small apartment, get a little exercise and check out my barrio. After walking only a few blocks, I could tell something was going on. It was a typically hot and humid December evening, but people were more pissed than usual. Everyone had this vibe of irritability just waiting to explode. Although it sounds like I put this together with the benefit of hindsight, I distinctly remember coming home from my walk and telling Fabio that there was something strange in the air.

21:00 and the sun had just set. The President spoke briefly, informing the public that due to increased criminal activity a state of emergency would exist indefinitely from that moment. What?! Give the police free reign to do anything they want? Were there enough lootings to justify such a radical measure? My thoughts raced between, “we’re fucked” to “damn, this is exciting.” How many people get to witness dramatic political change on this scale? Apparently I wasn’t the only one to think the situation was fucked up. Within minutes of ending the address, Fabio and I began to hear noise outside. People were out on their balconies, banging away with whatever they could find. As more heard the clamor, more joined in. Passing cars began honking their horns in support.

I understood what all the racket meant because it had happened a couple times in the previous week. Fabio explained that it was a form of public protest, non-violent in nature, that originated during the last days of Alfonsín. The cacerolazo allows people to let off steam, make their disapproval heard, and get on with their lives. At least that’s what had happened previously. Fabio went out on the balcony to add to the noise, and I didn’t think much of it. After all, I was a foreigner living in Argentina without a visa & my money wasn’t locked in the bank. And if things got really bad, I could always leave. So what right did I have to join in the protest? I’m trying to decide what to do when it occurs to me that it won’t last long so it doesn’t really matter anyway. Previous cacerolazos had ended after about ten minutes. This time was different. Fifteen minutes go by & instead of dying out, it gets louder. Thirty minutes. Louder. Forty-five minutes & Fabio and I notice that people are leaving their apartments and taking the protest to the streets. People are in the middle of the streets, blocking traffic, and they’ve brought their pots and pans with them. You can make a LOT of noise with a pot and a wooden spoon. Try it at home.

By this time, I had come to the conclusion that the person I love & my newest friends had been unfairly affected by government decisions, so why not protest? I was a bit stressed by the situation too – not knowing whether I would be able to get money from any ATM and not having a cash backup to help in the worst case scenario. My income wasn’t in jeopardy, but I was far from living comfortably. So we go down to the corner and join in with the rest. At that time, we lived only one block from the major intersection of Avenida Rivadavia and Avenida La Plata. Over the next few hours, traffic came to a complete halt. At most intersections, trash bags and bins had been piled up and a few set on fire. That was enough to persuade people to stop driving. All the time, more and more people came down to protest. I’d never seen anything like that before. It was completely spontaneous, non-violent, and mainly middle-class. To add spice to the banging of pots and pans, certain slogans were repeated especially: el pueblo, unido, jamás será vencido… another reminder of Alfonsín days. Everyone in Caballito had had enough, and they needed to voice their opinions.

As the evening progressed and the protest didn’t show any sign of diminishing, Fabio and I began to see small groups of two to twenty people walking down Avenida Rivadavia towards the center of town. Avenida Rivadavia more or less bisects Buenos Aires into north and south and begins in Plaza de Mayo at the Casa Rosada. Everyone was going there. We lived at the 4700 block of Rivadavia which equals 47 city blocks from the center. Fabio wanted to start walking, thinking that we wouldn’t get any farther than Once at the 2800 block. As a huge public square, it was a logical place for the police to set up a barricade if they wanted to stop protests from spreading. But as of yet, we had seen no police intervention and from period trips to the apartment to check local tv coverage of events, nothing other than lots of making noise had occurred. So off we marched.

It appeared that everyone had the same idea. As we were to find out later, there were basically three columns of people marching towards the center: from the north along Avenidas Santa Fe and Córdoba, from the center along Avenida Rivadavia and from the south along Avenidas Independencia and San Juan. I really didn’t know how far we’d actually go but it seemed like a good idea to me and we were all caught up in the moment. It was emotional for me, to say the least. I had heard everyone bitch and complain about the situation for months and finally action was being taken. And it wasn’t the elite or the poor who were paid to demonstrate. It was people I could identify with. As we marched towards Once, I remember looking at everyone’s relief while they chanted, “Cavallo is a son of a bitch! Step down, De La Rúa!” I remember looking at old ladies out on their balconies at 01:00 banging on their pots and pans, cheering the people who were walking to Plaza de Mayo. Most of all, I remember thinking that something like that would NEVER happen in the United States of 2001, War on Terror or no.

To our surprise, Once was only full of protestors and no police. So we kept on marching along with everyone else & reached Plaza de Mayo around 01:30. We were some of the first to arrive because although the Plaza was full, it wasn’t packed with people. Walking toward the Casa Rosada, we saw a barricade had been erected and a single row of police guarded the presidential office. That was about it. Fabio and I laughed as we looked at the pan we could never use again. Searching for a spot to rest, we managed to find a little bit of grass right next to the CNN camera crew. They were just standing by idly, watching everyone continue to make noise, with the camera off and resting on the ground. I guess it wasn’t interesting enough to film a peaceful protest.

After walking almost 6 km, I was beginning to think, “Ok, we made it. Now what?” We didn’t have to wait long. First we heard that Domingo Cavallo had resigned as Economic Minister. So much for his Nobel Prize. There had been a large group of protestors concentrated outside of his residence for hours. Part of the battle had been won. But suddenly I saw the CNN guys pick up the camera and start rolling. What was going on? As I scanned the plaza, I saw tear gas canisters being shot by the police from the northeast corner right into the middle of the square.

As canisters flew, a mass of people in wave motion evacuated that corner of the square. Evidently someone had harassed the police too much. Fabio and I managed to get tear gassed along with pretty much everyone else. We retreated to a side street, covered our faces with our t-shirts & decided to head home. Fabio gave good advice. He said that the police could easily take advantage of a small disturbance, break into businesses themselves, create havoc and later say that the public got out of control and shift the blame. I had been in Argentina long enough to know that this was definitely possible. So we left Plaza de Mayo. But there were thousands of people who were still arriving that hadn’t heard about Cavallo and that hadn’t seen the police tear gas anyone. We walked part of the way back and managed to find a taxi on the back streets to take us home. We went to bed sometime after 03:00 with protests still in full swing.

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Ten years later, I still consider that evening a defining moment in my life. Not because I thought Argentina would suddenly develop a new-found sense of civil society & the future would be radically different. It was more personal. I’d spent the last year fairly insulated, learning how to be a tour guide, getting to know new destinations in Europe, & hadn’t paid too much attention about what was going on in my own backyard. December 2001 changed that. Very few people were blogging at the time, but through a free website I started writing about what was happening in Argentina. My exploration of BA began in earnest then, which developed into guiding tours in BA & eventually morphed into Endless Mile… Never would have expected it.