Unas Aventuras Argentinas: Buenos Aires Sidewalks

"Cuidado de la caca," my host mom tells me everytime we step outside, "watch out for the poop." She's talking about the dog poop that is all over the streets and sidewalks of Buenos Aires. If you're not careful you'll step in it; I learned the hard way. I've been realizing during the past two and half weeks that I've been here how stimulating walking through a city can be. I've been walking so much more than I ever have. Usually I walk to and from "school" (quotation marks because it's my school building but classes haven't started yet) and that's a half an hour each way, and then I do more walking as well. At the end of any given day, my feet are tired and swollen.

On any given walk through the city, I feel like I'm on sensory overload. I've been in other cities before but I've really never felt like this, that there's so much going on around me, it's hard to take it all in. The first thing that I noticed was the smells. For instance, there's a certain corner on my walk to school that always smells like pee. As I pass by produce shops I smell ripe and overripe fruits. One night I thought I smelled noodles and butter and that was all I wanted to eat. And of course the ubiquitous bakeries leave their scent as well. My favorite scent, though, comes from the parillas, the steakhouses. It's like the grease, which in the states would be frowned up and avoided, becomes a perfume. I would easily wear asado perfume here.

But back to the sidewalks. Each block has its own set of stores: the bakery, the kiosk, the family grocery store, the produce store, the garage, the laundramat and the internet cafe. And the people one the sidewalks are notable too. Look down and you see the women in either strappy sandals or heels. Look up, and everyone has piercings on their faces and the men have odd hair styles. People can drink on the street; there's no open container law. People can also pee on the street; there's nothing against public urination here either.

Buenos Aires is known as a city that doesn't sleep, and already I find this to be so true. Even after taking into consideration the clubs that stay open until dawn, there's constant traffic on the streets, people talking and babies crying (there are so many babies) in their houses, and dogs barking.

I'm getting to know these streets better. I no longer need to look at my "guia T" to figure out in which dirrection I need to go on the subway. I know where the bus stops are for the buses that I take. I recognize the man on the corner of Avenida de Independencia selling roses. I can't say that Buenos Aires feels like home because being in a city is still so different, but I'm getting by.

Here are some pictures from my walk home:

This is a typical fruit and vegetable market.