Nearby Naked Neighbor

Today is Sunday. And on this particular Sunday, we went for a small explore. Mainly we stayed near where we live. We saw some shops, some restaurants, and probably most interesting, the Parque Rivadavia.

Dedicated to Simon Bolivar

It is here that our nearby naked neighbor lives. If you look in her direction from the street, she is mooning you. But if you go into the park, you can see her bent posture is not meant in disrespect. She seems to be intent on drawing water out of an empty well. Alrica, as you might expect, is very jealous that I show any interest in the nearby naked neighbor. But there's little to worry about. The neighbor won't even look at me. She just ignores me with stony indifference.

She must find it much warmer here in October than I do

The Parque Rivadavia is really interesting for a variety of reasons. There is an arch in the center dedicated to Simón Bolivar. And on the west end of the park are these green shacks that sell books. Not all of them sell books, some sell music and some sell magazines and some sell comic books too. But these shops get a lot of traffic.

Magazines for sale

Great place to get your comics (in Spanish)

The book Dynamic Mathematics was such a hit, it needed a sequel!

Records hanging from the fence along with instructional material

Those shops seem to be open most days. But on Sundays, there were white tents with a craft market in the middle of the park. And near the green shacks, there was an entire crowd milling about. We wondered what they were doing. They were trading football cards!

Just one small section of the card trading crowd

By football cards, I mean, naturally, soccer cards. People had big decks of these cards with soccer players or team logos. Some families had lists of cards they were looking for. People interacted with one another to make trades or possibly sales. It was fascinating how many people, including some very young and some very old, were here and engaged in the trading.

Those are football cards in his hand

To be honest, I don't know if the soccer card traders (or the craft fair) is an every Sunday thing or if it was just this particular Sunday. This is my first Sunday in Argentina. But it was very interesting to see.

Something that we find surprising is that Buenos Aires is more expensive than we expected. Looking at the cost of living calculators, we expected it to cost more than say Lima, but not more than Florianopolis. But it does cost more. I would say a modest meal out at a restaurant here is running us about 15 USD per person. That's comparable to what the USA was like when we left it. But it just seems high compared to everywhere else we've been in South America so far.

This brings me to the question of shoes. So far, my shoes are doing well. But the tread is rubbed reasonable thin, the insoles are somewhat shot, and there will come a time I need to replace them. But shoes here are not a great price.

From what I've read, Santiago, Chile is much better and prices are lower, plus they have basically no tariffs on imports. I guess we'll see. But it inspired me to write this song (to the tune of the Battle Hymn of the Republic, which is itself a parody as I noted in my previous blog post from Harpers Ferry, WV.

I could buy in Buenos Aires where the shoes will cost a lot.
If I wait for Santiago, I have heard that they will not.
I did not buy shoes in Lima, or Medellín, or Brazil.
Now my shoes are hanging on, but I doubt they always will.
Last I bought them in Malaysia.
Now, I'm far away from Asia.
Here, the prices shock and phase ya.
Please, shoes, keep hanging on.

Which Continent am I in?

I do know the answer to the question posed in the title of this post. I am in South America. Zooming in, I am in Argentina. Zooming in again, I am in Buenos Aires. And that is what leads to the question.

So excited! With blistered toes.

If you've been to Buenos Aires before, you may understand what I mean. If you haven't, let me explain. When you walk around Buenos Aires, the architecture feels like you could be in Vienna or Paris or Athens. True, all the signs are in Spanish, so maybe it feels more like Madrid. But my point is that the facades and shapes of many buildings feel like they were ripped out of Europe.

Love the rounded end

In fact, one of the nicknames of Buenos Aires is "The Paris of South America." I have thoughts. On the one hand, I get it. Buenos Aires has some very wide avenues, much like Paris. There are perpendicular streets, but also ones coming in at a diagonal, much like Paris. And the architecture has a very similar aesthetic to Paris. Buenos Aires also enjoys its cafes, again, like Paris.

Love the triangle shape

But Paris is not the only city with these characteristics? Why don't we call Buenos Aires the Belgrade of South America? Why Paris specifically? And there are a lot of cities called the Paris of (fill in the blank.) Is this just our Western Europe bias? Or is Paris the only city that comes to mind when comparisons are being made.

Love the intricate stone work. (So much love!)

Our first two days in Buenos Aires, we were in the historic district near the Plaza de Mayo. This is a square in the city around which likes the Casa Rosada (which is where the President works, but not where the President lives), the National Bank of Argentina, and the Metropolitan Cathedral of Buenos Aires.

Monument in the Plaza de Mayo

The Casa Rosada

The National Bank of Argentina

The Metropolitan Cathedral of Buenos Aires

We went out exploring in the day and again in the night. The city is quite beautiful.

Oh, is the building feeling blue?

Dark windows

Lit windows

The following day was rainy, but we visited the Museo Moderno, the Museum of Modern Art. I didn't take any photographs of the art, but I found it very interesting. One of the pieces was a small desk with an old tower computer under it which is running. The screen shows an early version of Microsoft Word in which work has been typed out. There is also a printer and a long scroll of printer paper hanging down from the printer with various things printed on it, including what is showing on the monitor. I was wondering, does the museum have to forever maintain this very old computer and its monitor? It wouldn't matter if the printer doesn't work anymore, but the monitor needs to. Do they turn it off at night or does it just stay on eternally? Won't that monitor one day break down? I just couldn't fathom the maintenance logistics of this particular piece.

Obelisco (obelisk)

The Teatro Colon

Other discoveries we made included the BSAS Booth. I am sure some of you know what I mean by the TKTS booth in Times Square. Here, just a few blocks from the Teatro Colon, you can find the BSAS booth. It's the exact same idea. You stand in line and get discounted tickets to the shows going on that night in Buenos Aires. I don't know why it is BSAS. But I never knew why the one in New York is TKTS. I assumed it was short for tickets, but I could be wrong. My best guess here is that BSAS is short for Buenos Aires, because the word for tickets is boletos, which has only one S and no A in it.

Says Tickets in English, but still not TKTS

While I said there is a lot here which reminds me of Europe (and apparently New York City), understand that there is also a lot which is not like Europe or anywhere else I've been. There are different species of birds.

What are these green birds that hang out with pigeons?

There are protests involving the rights of animals.

I'm guessing that McCain processes chickens in ways of which these people don't approve

There are varieties of coffee I haven't seen before.

I like KitKat! Still don't like coffee.

There are street signs that are unfamiliar.

What would your guess have been?

I did find out what that one means. It is school crossing. I guess the thing the girl is carrying is a book maybe. Not sure what's she's doing with her legs.

We stopped in a bookstore and it was fun to see how some classics have their titles translates, but some can just stay the way they are.

Perfect when your title was just numbers anyway

Like my friend in the picture at the top of the post, I give Buenos Aires a rousing hooray. Two toes up!

If You're Going to be Delayed

Nobody likes having their flights delayed. We are no exception. As I write this, I should be onboard a flight that took off from Florianopolis, Brazil and is heading toward Buenos Aires, Argentina. But, as you probably guessed, I am not.

The Bridge we stayed near, all lit up at night

Our flight as supposed to leave at 7:45 PM, Monday evening. When we arrived at the airport, we learned that it won't leave until 1:50 AM on Tuesday morning. That's over a six hour delay!

But I will say this: If you're going to be delayed, Brazil is a good place to do it. Many places now have Passengers' Rights, in which airlines have to give passengers various benefits if they are delayed by various times. Brazil has some of the strongest laws in this regard. And the airlines don't gripe or grouse. They just give it to us.

This cow is a gift from the staff of the Zurich Airport to the staff of the Florianopolis Airport. Did you know airport staffs (or is that staves) give gifts to each other?

With our delay, we were given a meal voucher. If the flight had waited until tomorrow, (meaning more tomorrow than 1:50 AM tomorrow but like 7 AM tomorrow), they would have had to get all the passengers hotels and cover transportation to and from the hotel.

We have rights to ask for a different flight (but there isn't another one that is earlier) or a full refund. We have a lot of rights.

Also, there are worse airports to be stuck in than Florianopolis. True this is not the high tourist season, so maybe that makes a difference, but the airport, while not huge, is also not crammed with people or loud. And the chairs are reasonably comfortable. And there is decent wifi which you can use for as long as you want.

We won't get to Buenos Aires until after 4 AM. We are, no doubt, going to be very tired. But life throws curveballs at you, and hopefully you don't strike out swinging. Or maybe it's better to strike out swinging than just watching the pitches go by. I'm losing this metaphor like an outfield trying to find a ball that's lost in the sun. But, desperately clinging to my baseball imagery, we will round the bases and get home. Home, in our life situation, is metaphoric too.

The Other Side of Floripa

Our last two days in Floripa (which is what the locals call Florianopolis) are being spent on a different side of the island. We've been on the Atlantic Ocean side most of our time here. But our time in our place ended two days before our flight, so we are staying in Florianopolis proper for the last two days.

O! O! It's Alrica! (Sou bem means "I'm doing well.")

Here, we are on the west side of the island, very near the bridges that connect the island to mainland Brazil. The water here isn't called the Atlantic Ocean. Instead, it has names that do not show the Floripans at their most clever. The water is separated into two parts. The water north of the closest point from the island to the mainland is called the North Bay. The water south of the closest point from island to mainland is called the South Bay. Clever right? But wait, what about the water that connects the two, the strait that goes under the bridges? They call that the strait.

View of the North Bay

But uninspired names notwithstanding, it is a beautiful area. We took a good long walk this afternoon and got to take in a lot of the beauty, as well as some interesting curiosities.

When I was at summer camp as a boy, we used to sing about three chartreuse buzzards sitting on a fence. These are not chartreuse. Nor buzzards. Nor on a fence. I don't know why I brought that song up.

The traffic lights here have the big red light or green light. But beside those, there are five smaller lights (again red or green) and they serve as something of a countdown. When the light first turns green there are five small green lights beside the big one. As time goes by, this drops to four, then three, and you get the pattern. This also holds true for the red lights. But not the yellow ones. No smaller side yellows.

Three side green lights, halfway there.

Only two green lights now. Get moving!

I saw some interesting products in the grocery store. Alrica said she had heard of Coke with Coffee before, but it was new to me. As for the Disney Princess lip balm, I just found it amusing that they don't look exactly like the princesses in the movies themselves. (And Mulan isn't a princess, right?)

Espresso Coke? Doesn't sound like an improvement to me.

I have a whole hypothesis on why each princess goes with her particular flavor. Ariel with watermelon because she lives under "water". Mulan with cherry because China and cherry both start with "ch" (though not in Portuguese.) And Cinderella with vanilla, well, I'll let you fill in the rest of the rationale.

Here is the Harry Dog Sculpture. Note, this dog isn't particulary hairy, so I think it really is Harry Dog, like his name was harry. Or someone kept pestering him.

He doesn't look particularly happy, so I could believe he was being harried.

I loved the symmetry of these flowers.

It is like a flower in a flower in a flower.

And I'm not sure what Velma is doing here, but someone must like the Scooby-Doo gang.

Jinkies!

There is a lot to love about Floripa.

And a sign to prove it

Fourth-Fair Addams

Portuguese is a lovely language. While it has a lot of similarities to Spanish, and several key differences, in pronunciation, it has a much more French character. The j in Portuguese is the j in French and one example.

But one thing I find very interesting about Portuguese is the names of the days of the week. In many Romance languages, there is a similarity to how the names were chosen. Sunday is named for the Judeo-Christian God or a day dedicated to that God. In French it is Dimanche and in Spanish it is Domingo. (Remember the work for god is dieu in French and dios in Spanish.) Saturdays are generally named for the sabbath. French has Samedi and Spanish has Sabado. These both come from the Latin word for Sabbath which itself comes from the Hebrew word Shabbat. That's the seventh day of the week, the day of rest as dictated in Exodus with a reference to the creation story of Genesis.

In this, Portuguese is in full agreement.

All these guys are in agreement too

But that agreement doesn't extend to the weekdays. In other Romance languages the weekdays are named for the moon, Mars, Mercury, Jove (or Jupiter if you prefer his other name), and Venus. In French those are Lundi, Mardi, Mercredi, Jeudi, and Vendredi. In Spanish they are Lunes, Martes, Miercoles, Jueves, and Viernes.

And why doesn't Portuguese agree? Like the answer to so many questions from Europe after the fall of Rome, religion.

But here is where Portuguese put its foot down. Well, it was an archbishop who put his foot down. The Archbishop Martin de Braga did not like having days named for what he considered Pagan gods. Instead, he wanted to number the days.

Inspired by Holy Week, the week before Easter, he wanted to name the days what they would call the festival days in that week. First fair, second fair, third fair, and so on. Though he did not object to Sabado or Domingo, because those had Judeo-Christian roots. His ideas caught on in what is today Portuguese, and so you get this strange mix.

Domingo, Segunda-feira, Terça-feira, Quarta-feira, Quinta-feira, Sexta-feira, and Sabado. Translating this directly would be God's Day, Second-fair, Third-fair, Fourth-fair, Fifth-fair, Sixth-fair, and Sabbath. Notice that the good Archbishop didn't renumber either. Sunday is the first day of the week and Monday is the second day. So even though Monday is the first day you are going to call by a number, it is Second-fair. It's just First-fair kept its Latin inspired name.

The abbreviations are dom, 2^a, 3^a, 4^a, 5^a, 6^a, sab.

When speaking aloud, most Portuguese speakers seem to drop the ``feira'' and just say the number.

I think it's cool, but it must be limiting for marketing and art. Does Taco Third-fair roll off the tongue? Do you say, "Thank God it's Sixth-fair"? Do rainy days and Second-fairs always get you down?

If you answered yes to any of the above, you should move to Brazil. Or Cape Verde. Or Timor-Leste. Or... I feel like there's one right on the tip of my tongue. Well, maybe I'll remember it on Fifth-fair.

Rodents of Unusual Size

South America has a plethora of rodent species which are indigenous to the continent. Sure, mice and rats are everywhere. But a lot of the rodent species you know, and possibly even love, such as hamster and guinea pigs, they originate in South America.

This may seem a bit disconnected, but hang with me. One of my favorite movies is The Princess Bride, and I know I am not alone in that in this world. Perhaps some of you who read this are fond of the movie and you are familiar with the three terrors of the Fire Swamp.

1. The Flame Spurt (but there's a popping sound before each. We can avoid that.)
2. The Lightning Sand (but you were clever enough to discover what that looks like, so in the future we can avoid that too.)
3. Rodents of Unusual Size (I don't think they exist.)

They do exist! They do exist! (And you can see, I got back on topic.)

I would call that an unusual size

Yesterday we encountered for the first time, capybaras. We walked to the same I park I mentioned in my previous post. We saw so many different species of birds. And a ladybug. Alrica pointed out the ladybug to me. But while we were standing on the boardwalk that goes out over the pond, Alrica saw in some trees something grazing. From the distance it looked like maybe warthogs. But warthogs are not native to South America. So we went closer to see what animal (turns out animals) it was.

How rude that I am taking pictures of their butts

Capybaras.

We saw the largest rodent in the world. On second thought, that's misleading. Capybaras are the rodent species which has grows to be the largest of any rodent species in the world. We saw members of that largest species, but there is no guarantee that any of the ones we saw were, in fact, the largest of their kind.

Go for it bird. You can walk on me.

All this precision aside, you would not believe how big capybaras are. Check out the picture with the capybara which had a bird on its back. That bird is about the size of a robin, so it gives you an idea of how large the rodents can be. Also, they don't seem to care at all if birds walk on them

Closer view of the bird on the rodent.

A capybara is bigger than a golden retriever. They have shorter legs, so they hang out closer to the ground. But they can grow to weigh a lot more than most dog breeds do. Alrica thinking she was seeing a warthog was a pretty good observation, because they are more similar in shape to a pig than to a dog.

Just chillin' roadside

They were eating leaves and grasses under some trees and right beside a gravel road. They weren't remotely bothered by our presence. They weren't remotely bothered when a motorcycle came by on the road, just fifteen feet from the nearest one.

Unlike Alrica and I, the locals didn't seem all that interested in the capybaras. I suppose it is all about what you get used to. If seeing capybaras is an everyday or every week experience, you don't think much of it anymore. I mean, when I see a squirrel, I don't stop, point, and say, "Oh my goodness! A squirrel!" (Apparently, I am not one of the dogs from the movie Up.) Squirrels are just common to my experience so they don't elicit much notice. Capybaras must be the same. I mean, for people who live here. Not for me. They elicited plenty of notice from me. And from Alrica, who has an equal dearth of previous capybara experience.

Unrelated to capybaras, but "real, relevant, salt" Doesn't one of these seem to not fit with the others?

It also made me realize that one of the great things about the way Alrica and I travel is that by staying for several weeks in a place, you have more chances to see things. I had been to that exact park twice before, and the capybaras had not been out and about. But having the leisure to visit multiple times meant I got to see them. The world has a lot of wonders in it, but they aren't all on display on a schedule. Sometimes you need right place, right time to see them.

Chesterton's Lid

I have several interesting observations about our lives here in Brazil. To be objective. I have several observations. The reader can assign what level of interesting they are.

To start, I just find this sign very amusing.

Directions for parking

It get's a bit better. The name of the restaurant for which this is the sign to the parking lot is Paradoxo de Fermi, in English, Fermi's Paradox. If you don't know why this is relevant, Fermi was a physicist who asked why haven't humans been contacted by alien intelligent species. It is a fascinating question and to follow Fermi's back of the napkin probability calculations, it does seem strange. But other physicists have proposed some possible explanations. I won't get into them, I just thought a bar called Fermi's Paradox including a sign to tell the flying saucers where to land is very fitting.

I've been doing some walks, just to explore the neighborhood. And I've noticed some lovely things, some differences in how things are done here, and some throwbacks. Let's start with loveliness. There are so many varieties of beautiful flowers here.

The birds of paradise are always cool in appearance

Pretty in pink?

I feel like this flower is sticking its tongue out at me. Rude!

Such little petals

Like a star but blood red

We had stars, why not the sun?

What about differences? Let's start with garbage. By this, I mean, how is the garbage collected? They don't have outdoor garbage cans. Instead, there are basekts along the road where you place your garbage bags. No lids, not a contained can. Just open space and the garbage collectors come and grab bag after bag rather than turning a can upside down.

We've seen similar things in other countries. I'm interested here in the different varieties of garbage holding appartuses or apparati. (What is the plural of apparatus. Why isn't that already the plural and a singular apparatus is an apparatu?)

This is the most common, raised basket on a pole (or mounted to the wall)

Here the garbage area is built into the fence, but hanging back toward the yard

Best of both worlds. Fold it in to the yard to place the garbage, fold it out for collection.

Here's another difference that amused us. We stopped at a McDonald's. We didn't want to eat, we wanted to check out the menu of the kiosk. We like to see what is different. You know how you have categories like Combos and Meals and Burgers and Beverages? Check out this category.

I got me some stomach hunger

The Stomach Hunger category seemed to have the exact same things in it as the Meals category, except in Stomach Hunger they all cost about three or four reals more. Side note: The currency here is the Brazilian real. That's not pronounced REEL, nor it is pronounce RAY-AL. It rhymes with RAY-AL, but the R isn't the English R sound. It is closer to the clearing your throat H sound that you find German or Hebrew. Maybe a bit like the French R, but harder than the one in French.

While exploring the kiosk, we looked at the sobremesas (the desserts). Check out this option.

Cat got your tongue? Well, payback's a dairy treat!

I was also surprised along one of my walks to find this.

Payphones still exist!

The hood covering it (which looks like a Super Mario World turtle shell) is probably great when its raining. But it is so low I would have to crouch to be on the phone.

Last, but not least, I need your input on this dilemma. Below is a photograph of the drawer that holds the silverware as well as serving and cooking and preparing utensils.

I'm getting to my quandary

Notice, you don't see the silverware. That's because it is in the tray at left and it is covered by a lid. The trouble is that the lid is a little bit annoying. It's not terrible, but when you want silverware, you have to lift the lid, slide it over, get your hand under it. Or you can take it off fully and then put it back on. When you've washed the silverware and want to put it away, same issue.

So I thought about just removing it permanently. Then I hesitated on that. Later, Alrica suggested we just remove it permanently. And I told her my hesitation. What if this is Chesteron's Lid?

If you don't know to what I am referring, then you're probably normal and I'm the one who isn't. But my reference is to Chesteron's Fence. G. K. Chesterton wrote a parable about two people walking in the woods. They come to a point where an old fence crosses the path, blocking them.

The more hot-headed of the two says, "What is this ridiculous fence doing here. Why would anyone put a fence across a path in the woods! I'm going to chop it down."

To this the more cold-headed of the two (and yes, I am sure it should be cool-headed, but I was going for extremes) replies, "If you don't know why it's here, then I will not let you chop it down. Go, do research, find out what its purpose was when it was built, and then, maybe I will let you chop it down."

The point Chesterton is making is that it is easy for us to look at something that currently exists, say it has no point, and dismantle it. But that way lies unintended consequences. Fences don't just grow in the woods. Someone had to put in time, effort, and money to build that fence. People don't do that without a good reason. Maybe the fence is the only thing keeping the village safe from the ghouls that live beyond the fence. It is also possible that the fence was built back in a day when cows pastured beyond it, but now there are no cows and it would be fine to get rid of it. Chesterton's point is that reform without knowing why a law, practice, tradition, or structure was placed is foolhardy. We should find out why the law, practice, tradition, or structure was first made. Then, if the reason is no longer valid, sure get rid of it. But until we know the reason, we shouldn't get rid of it.

I don't know why the lid is there. It takes effort to move it every time. So it seems there must be a reason. It could be something stupid like when the owners of this place bought the silverware tray, it came with a lid. So they figured why not use it. But it also could be to keep out the slugs.

Did I mention there are slugs. Alrica was the first to see them when she was awake in the middle of the night. I have also seen them near the kitchen sink. So maybe the lid keeps the slugs off the silverware. Note that the lid doesn't cover the serving utensils or the ones you would use to prepare your food. And, what is the real harm if a slug did touch something? I don't know.

I'm not even sure the slugs could get into the drawer. I'm just saying, it is possible that this lid has some positive purpose. Just moving it aside might negate whatever protection it provides. But it is just a tiny bit annoying every time I want a spoon. (Or a fork or knife.)

What do you think? To lid or not to lid? That is the question.