Journal Entry from Argentina




Today, a day of thanksgiving por mi. I woke up and prayed. I thank God and continued to thank him all day.

The house in Palermo that we are staying at is simply beautiful! It’s built with European and South American influences. I love it. We arrived early this morning. (I learned from our tour guide that this type of house is called Casa Chorizo).

While getting ready for bed the power went out. I was the only one in my room not in bed. I was in the bathroom trying to take a wash up. I manged.

This Palermo house has the outside within the inside. So, it’s cold in the hallways.

We visited- after walking and going to a restaurant for brunch- the Plaza de Mayo area like the Casa Rosada, Metropolitan Cathedral and the Bardo Palace and Manzana De Las Luces. We also took a walk through Puerto Malero Via Puente De La Mujer (The Docks).

At each place I tried to treat it as a learning experience. I looked at each image as if I would never see it again.

The Casa Rosada was where we met our group tour the college had hired. I forgot her name. She was white and seemed American… She didn’t know much of her history and didn’t hesitate to tell us. Much of the questions went unanswered and I stopped diverting my attention to her.

I diverted my attention to a young Chilean lady named Sofia who explained to me in English a beautiful work of art of an indigenous women, Bartolina Sisa, who, like her husband was killed as activist. They fought for the civil liberties for their people. She also told me of Don Evo Morales Ayma, the first Indian president of Boliva, both whom I already blogged about. 

I find myself trying to appreciate Argentina but I need to catch up on the readings!



Tarte Quino

Tarte Quino


We had lunch at the Cazona De Flores that was prepared by an Indian chef. It is  a popular dish among the indigenous people and  is known as an Indian/ Bolivian dish. It is called Tarte Quino.  I enjoyed it. It did not include meat (surprise!). If I learn how to make one thing on this trip, I would want it to be that!

Cazona De Flores

Cazona De Flores


Today we went to a lecture by Ezequiel Adamovsky. (nice name right?)

The place where we went is called La Cazona De Flores and while I don’t understand fully why it’s so significant I do know that  it is where a lot of learning takes place and many educators such as writers and authors give speeches there.

To welcome us into the place was an anthropologist named Nicolas Fernadez. He sat us down and told us a little history about La Cazona De Flores. It was an upper class house full of paintings owned by a rich family. However,  when the city begin to grow, the neighborhood swallowed up the smaller rich neighborhood.

Now it’s an open space used for studies.  He told us that It connects study courses with employment. I guess that’s the equivalent to an internship. “The house has achieved prestige among the intellectuals, he commented, and the neighborhood of Flores is associated with Afro-Argentine families.”  I think this means a lot, but currently I am not sure why I think this.

Fernadez switched the topic to race in Argentina and I jotted down some of his quotes that I thought were intriguing:

The meaning of race has been a challenged  myth of the country since the beginning

The problem with the stereotypes is not that they are false but incomplete.

Education and violence is what constructed the nation and the false ideas that race doesn’t exist 

If you want to evolve, leave your ethnicities behind

The difference is the resistance of the people and how change comes (his comment in regards to other nations and their response to inequalities)

During the discussion, we spoke about how the government is in control of maintaining the history of Argentina and telling the history of Argentina. He then showed us the 100 peso. There are currently two circulating. One of them, the older one, has the father of the disappearance on it, Julio Argentino Roca (we spoke a little bit about him at the Recoleta Cemetery) and the other peso has Maria Eva Duarte De Peron picture’s on it.


An old Renault



I am a fan of old cars and in Argentina I had a ball taking pictures like these. Old cars are everywhere!

Of course I didn’t know the name of the cars, I was calling everything a Volkswagon until Professor Medina corrected me.

Now I know of Citroens, Peugeots and Renaults.

ps, take notice of the cobber-stone. It looks pretty but it hurts your feet!