Sensory Overload at the Art Fair

Buenos Aires is, according to more than a few articles in the New York Times, home to a "buzzing art scene" that is drawing the attention of the international art community. After attending arteBA this weekend, the annual contemporary art fair, I can agree wholeheartedly with that sentiment. I haven't been as dutiful of an art seeker as I usually am in New York, but going to fair I felt like I got a good feeling for what the art scene is like down here. The fair had more than seventy-five exhibitors, the majority of whom were Argentine art galleries, but other South American countries were represented as well. All the big players were there (Ruth Benzacar, Braga Menendez Arte Contemporáneo, and Appetite were the three I had heard of previously) but there was also a section called Barrio Joven where smaller, less established galleries were showing lots of young artists' work. While the bigger galleries favored clean white walls to display one or two works by a select few artists, the Barrio Joven galleries (as you can see in the above picture) absolutely covered their walls with as much art as possible, even letting it spill onto the floor and into the space usually reserved for walking around. The booths themselves had more personality as well: in one faux grass covered the concrete and in another sitting pillows were surrounded by potted plants and an old coat hanger. I was glad to see that it wasn't only the established art community that was being represented, but they were making room for the younger generation as well. 

The fair itself might be considered part of the younger generation in the larger scheme of the world art community, but I was very impressed by what I saw, and at times couldn't help but feel that I had somehow wandered into The Armory Show, "The International Fair of New Art", that happens every year in New York. Whether or not this is a good thing, as I know many people who bemoan the commercialized and overpriced art market of today, I'm not sure. I do know that like all good art shows, I saw pieces I loved immediately, some that disturbed me, ones I did not understand, or didn't like. There were lots of paintings, a good number of drawings, not as many sculptures and few pieces of video art. It is interesting to really get a feel of what is "in" in the art market just by walking around for a couple hours. After all, everything at the fair was also for sale and the galleries are motivated to actually sell what they hang on their walls. After too much thinking about these sorts of things, I just tried to enjoy the art. Below I've included some pictures of some of the art that most interested me as I walked around. I hope you like it too!

 

Jungles and Salt Deserts

Next week is the three month mark of my stay here in Buenos Aires, which shockingly means that I only have two more months here. I can't believe how fast everything has gone and while I do miss my family and friends in the US and can't wait to return, it is definitely going to be an adjustment going back to New York and Columbia. I have gotten used to the pace of life here and I know there are going to be a lot of things that I miss when I get back. But in the meantime, I'm going to try and not dwell on the future, and really make the most of the time that I do have left here. And now that my extensive travels have come to an end, I am going to keep working on exploring the city, and believe it or not, do some school work. As one of friends put it: even though you might have come to the conclusion that my life here is just one long vacation made up of smaller vacations strung together, and even though you might be right, I am actually taking classes, reading texts, writing papers and generally engaging my brain intellectually. Which is not to say that traveling around doesn't inspire deep thoughts. In fact, on my two most recent trips I found myself contemplating infinity as I stared at the rushing water in Iguazú and again as the hexagonal salt flats unfolded before the mountains in Jujuy. Borges would have been proud. And to be honest, I'm not sure even where to begin to talk about all the wonderful things I saw. I'll be brief and try to let the photos speak for themselves.

The first trip, two weeks ago, was to Iguazú, up north near the border of Paraguay and Brazil. Another long, but fairly comfortable eighteen-hour bus ride delivered my friends and I to this major tourist destination. The city is tiny and quiet and clearly only a place that people pass through on their way to and from the waterfalls. We stayed at an enormous hostel, filled with young travelers from all over the world, all there for the same purpose: taking millions of photos of the falls to show to their friends and family. I must admit that I took a spectacular number of photos myself, and through a cruel twist of fate at the end of the day "formated" my memory card, and thereby erased all of the photos. Who knew? The following photos you see are my friend Lara's. Lesson I learned? Don't press "Format Memory Card." Also, take time to look at what is around you, without the help of a camera lens. You might not always have the photos, and your memories are more precious anyway. Luckily I did spend a good deal of time just staring at the water as it rushed over the rocks, plunging into the mist, and I don't think I will be forgetting it anytime soon. Even though it was cloudy most of the day and even rained a bit, it was a spectacular sight. There are multiple different systems of waterfalls, all easily accessible through walkways that traverse the forests. We even took a crazy boat ride that zoomed us right up close to the waterfalls. Said boat also went dangerously fast, careening around at 45 degree angles, which was exhilarating even without the crashing water. We watched enormous, red, armored ants carry leaves. We wore expensive, glorified plastic bags. We saw the same people all day long as we walked from place to place. We got our shoes muddy. I'm not sure if this place is considered a wonder of the world or anything, but it sure is in my books. I experienced for the first time the truly furious power of a crashing waterfall and the lush depth of a jungle, and it was beautiful. 

Garganta del Diablo

Dos Hermanas

The next weekend we flew by plane to the province of Jujuy. The idea of this trip, which was organized by our program, was to give us an idea about other regions of Argentina, outside of the central provinces, that are very much influenced by indigenous cultures and have a distinct history that shares elements with neighboring countries and geographical regions, such as the Andes. We visited an Anthropology and Archeology museum in the city of Tilcara where we got to see old tools and even some skulls and bones. I realized that while I quite like the idea of human bones, and even artistic renditions (pictures, drawings, etc.) I am quite unsettled by real human bones right in front of my eyes. But thankfully that was only one activity of the trip. 

We stayed in cabañas near the mountains in the city of Tilcara. At night when the sun set, it was amazing to see the moon and stars, but almost more magical was to see the tiny lights of the houses dotting the mountainside, shining as if they themselves were stars. In Tilcara, we visited the pucará which in the indigenous language (forgive me for forgetting its name) means fortaleza which in turn means fort. It was an old settlement that at its height might have been home to 1500 people, quite a lot for this tiny village on a hill in the middle of the valley. There were a number of reconstructed houses to show how cactus wood and other natural materials were used to construct the houses. I did not know that cacti had wood. I also did not know there were so many cacti in the world, or that they could be so huge! My favorite parts of the Tilcara pucará were probably the garden (one which hilariously only contained cacti) and the llamas. I have a fondness in my heart for these animals, mainly thanks to the acclaimed (among my friends) film The Emperor's New Groove, which is actually an Disney cartoon, and on my list of top Disney films. 

But, Disney films aside, while in the province of Jujuy we also visited the towns of Humahuaca and Purmamarcas as well as the stunning Salinas Grandes. Each place had its own very distinct terrain and a feria in the center of town, selling llama sweaters, multicolored bags and tablecloths, mate cups and many other fun items. As I think back about the trip, I am so glad that I got to experience this other Argentina that is so different from the Argentina that I have come to know and love living in Buenos Aires. Everything there has a different flavor, from the language, the style of dress, the terrain, and of course, the food. The Spanish spoken in the North has a very different accent and there are words still in use today that are from Quechua (the indigenous language I could not remember earlier). The religion today is of course mostly Catholic, from the Spanish Conquistadores, but there are remnants of the pre-Incan "religious cosmology" shared by many peoples of the Andean region everywhere. Many of the older women have a style of dress that I quite envy; they wear all of their brightest, most patterned clothing at once, topped off literally with a wide-brimmed hat (You can see such a lady in my first photo. While you can't see the way she mixed her colors, you can see the shape of her clothes and her hat!). I found the regional cuisine super delicious: rotund tamales, rich goat cheese, and a desert that tasted just like mincemeat. The whole trip made me wish I was exploring this region of South American, going to Peru and Bolivia as well. I am glad that I at least made it as far as I did. 

Sunset in Tilcara

Dusk by the cabañas

Garden at the pucará

So many cacti!

Sadly I saw more llamas on sweaters than actual llamas

On our last full day in Jujuy we took a long bus ride up an enormous mountain (almost a fourteener) and back down the other side to get to the Salinas Grandes. What you see below, though it may look like a regular sand desert, or perhaps hard-packed snow, is neither. It is salt! Here they make salt, or rather, natural processes make salt and they collect it. I guess you could call it salt farming. From what I understand, this used to be a lake, but clearly all the water evaporated leaving behind all the minerals and such, which was mosty salt. To get this salt from the ground (because it is a very firm ground) and the make sure that it is clean, during the summer when it rains a lot they dig a bunch of rectangular holes in the ground that are maybe a foot deep. The water seeps up from the ground, filling the hole with water. Here is where I got confused, so please forgive me. As the year passes, the water and sun together (I'm sure there are some other forces too) crystallizes and purify the salt and evaporate the water, leaving a clean salt rectangle before the next rainy season during summer. That might not be correct. What I know for sure is that the process is completely natural, we humans have to do nearly nothing and coolest of all, the actual flat part of the salts is patterned. As the water evaporated the salt forms big hexagons in the sand, all interconnecting, all exactly six sides. I was truly amazed. Not remembering much from chemistry class in tenth grade, I think this must have something to do with the structure of the chemical compound, but again, I'm not sure. Clearly this whole trip to Jujuy was quite the learning experience, and not just the learning about myself and the world, but actually thinking about tangible knowledge like Pre-Incan history and the formation of salt. In the pictures below you can see the super cool hexagons as well as the rectangular holes that make the salt (and the piles of dirty, unusable salt next to them). Since salt actually is its own food group down here (mayonnaise is too), I was happy to learn where it is actually coming from. I looked at our boxes (yes, plural, boxes) of salt when I got home and sure enough, they are from Las Salinas Grandes. Now I'm off to eat some homemade empanadas and then prepare for a presentation on Borges. One activity will be delicious, but I'll let you decide which one. 

I'm learning to sleep on buses.

If you are uninterested in panoramic shots of various different landforms, please, skip my next few postings. I am in the middle of a travel extravaganza, and so I probably won't be able to refrain from posting lots of pictures with sky, clouds, trees, rocks and bits of Mother Earth. Just Monday morning I arrived back to Buenos Aires from a weekend trip to San Rafael, Mendoza and this evening I am headed out for another long bus ride to Iguazú Falls to the north in the province of Misiones which shares a border with Brazil. The following weekend I will finally get to travel somewhere in less than twelve hours, and I will be going by plane to Salta and Jujuy, also in the north of the country, but more west as well. It's gonna be a crazy few weeks, and I hope to have a few good stories and a million good pictures and memories by the end.  

The province of Mendoza, where I was this past weekend, is almost directly to the west of Buenos Aires, and shares a border with Chile. It is also known as wine country of Argentina. I was on a trip through my program, CIEE, which had its pros and cons. It was definitely to have everything taken care of by other people. Our lodging, food, activities, transportation - everything. All I had to do was really show up at the bus station with enough clothes to stay warm during the weekend and the rest would be provided. What was not so nice about traveling with the program was the fact that I was traveling with about 60 other American college students. I won't even explain why this is an issue, because I'm sure you can imagine everything that goes along with such a situation. In the end it turned out to be a very fun, relaxing trip, but I don't know if I really felt like I got to know Mendoza because we were such an insular little group.

What I can say is that Mendoza is absolutely beautiful. While I can't say there were many things I liked about the twelve hour bus ride we took to get there (you can see the shadow of our enormous micro in the first photo below) it is a great way to see the land. If I had flown there I definitely wouldn't have gotten to see all the beautiful trees, plains and mountains along the way. Once we were out of the plains and into the valleys it actually reminded me a bit of Colorado. And then I saw all the tourist attractions offering horseback riding and white-water rafting and it reminded me even more of Colorado. We stayed in a very nice hotel with small cabañas on the banks of the river. We slept a lot, ate a lot, and of course got out to see the scenery around us. The first day there we took a hike through a small valley/canyon and saw the system that transports the mineral water from the mountains down to the town for bottling and then distribution. I must say that these trails didn't feel quite as safe as the trails I'm used to that are maintained by some sort of mountaineering crew. Nope, these trails were full of loose rocks, branches blocking the path, and lots of other potentially hazardous elements. Nobody got hurt though and it made me think a little bit more about the American way of doing things in comparison with life down here. Are we too cautious, too organized, too structured? These are the types of questions that you study abroad for!

So after a bit of outdoorsiness (which is definitely not a word, I know) on the first day, the next day we visited two vineyards. The first was my favorite. It was a small family operated vineyard called Rubio. We also visited a larger, also family owned, but more commercial vineyard called Bianchi. We went on a tour where they explained the fermentation process of red wine, white wine, and champage, and showed us the facilities. It was very interesting but I preferred the smaller, dirtier, homier Rubio vineyard. In addition to being a vineyard, Rubio also specialize in dried fruits,  jams, olives and olive oil, and other such delicacies. I took some pictures of the fruit drying in its special wooden drying trays, jars of mermelada de zapallo freshly made that morning, and jamón hanging from the ceiling. My favorite part were the farm animals. Enormous pigs, baby pigs, chickens and roosters, dogs and llamas. And all of the animals basically had free reign of the farm. Except for the llama, he (or she) had to stay in her cage. Also, check out all of the leaves on the ground! It is finally feeling, and looking, like Autumn around here. The temperature has definitely dropped, leaves are dropping as well, and I actually don't mind, but probably only because I know that we aren't heading towards temperatures in the teens in addition to a nasty windchill. This is indeed comforting.

Our final day in Mendoza we went outdoors some more. Some kids went rappelling down rocks and others flew across rivers on zip lines . I chose to do zip line and it was pretty fun. The best part was the group of older couples that was hanging out on the bank of the river. They were very entertained by our antics, taking photos and asking us if we were having fun, which in fact, we were. Rounding out the trip was an evening bonfire, complete with the Argentine version of smores, and skits that mocked American and Argentina stereotypes. There were a few soccer games on the basketball court. And there also was a small kitten we found roaming around the grounds of the hotel. We named her Medialuna after the popular Argentine croissant because she liked to curl up just like one. She hung around with us for a while and then scampered back into the bushes. 

It was a long ride back to the city, but I was glad to be back. Like any trip, while you are gone, you miss things that you never thought you would. You realize a million things in your everyday life you take for granted, and you promise to take advantage of all the wonderful opportunities in the city as soon as you get back. I'm excited to go to Iguazu and Salta in these next couple of weeks, but I also can't wait to be back in Buenos Aires for more than three days and make good on my promise to the city. 

Malos Aires

A running joke here is that Buenos Aires (literally translated as "Good Airs") is a real misnomer and that the city should be called Malos Aires ("Bad Airs") instead. Between the cars, the buses, the smokers, and the rest of the polluting entities that go hand in hand with any large city, it's true - the air really isn't that great. However in the past few days it has gotten nearly unbearable. A smog has settled on the city and it does not seem to be going anywhere. It is stinky and makes my eyes slightly irritated and I imagine if I had particularly bad allergies or asthma, I would be in even worse shape. I thought that I would get used to the smell after a while, because that's usually what happens with noxious odors, but unfortunately such has not been that case. It's now the fourth day (for me anyway) of living in the smoggy air and I have yet to adjust. I am blowing my nose and rubbing my eyes as we speak, trying to avoid breathing through my nose and having to smell the odor.

Photos Courtesy LANACION.com, Copyright 2008 All Rights Reserved

I am getting ahead of myself though. Let me explain what is actually going on and where all this smog, or humo, is coming from. Apparently at the delta of the Rio Paraná, located in the interior of the province of Buenos Aires, the farmers decided to burn the livestock pastures to renew them. Other reports say that the pastures were being burned to renew and prepare for new crops of soybeans. In either case, these are fires that were started deliberately, but carelessly and without the right technique, equipment, etc. and now the fires are out of control (so the government admitted publicly yesterday). Anyway, newspapers say that the smog itself is really more of an annoyance than an actual health concern. However the smog is causing larger problems as far as travelers are concerned. More than a few major highways have been shut down because the low visibility accompanying the smog has led to large car accidents. Additionally, many of the bus lines that go to the outer provinces are not running, and flights from the domestic airport are limited. Of course the government and farmers are throwing the blame every which way, firefighters have been photographed hilariously carrying a single bucket of water, and the porteños complain that the smog wakes them up with its stink in the middle of the night. The Secretary of the Environment and Sustainable Development of Argentina says that only a climate change (wind, rain, etc.) will extinguish the fires. I personally will be my crossing my fingers for something, anything to chase away the smog. And after this, I will not be complaining a bit about a few smokers and some car emissions.