My neighborhood in BsAs apparently used to be the red light district. I guess that means that catcalls are currently at a minimum in the area. But the remnants of the era are still there. All around Godoy Cruz, which is four blocks from my house, there are numerous albuerges transitorios, or rent-by-the-hour hotels. Which can be an incredibly useful thing if you’re 32, still living with your parents and trying to get in your coworker’s pants (which is basically just another way of saying you’re Argentine, or Chilean for that matter).
Anyways, the point is the area around Godoy Cruz is no longer the red light district and all of these albureges transitorios have been shut down or bought out by developers looking to put in high-rise apartments in gentrified Palermo. Basically at every hour, constructions projects are going on, getting started or finishing up.
Luckily, Buenos Aires does not let a cultural transition like this go to waste.
The cultural institutions of Buenos Aires decided to turn “former love hotel Pussy-Cats into a public art space” (and I got that straight from the brochure). Basically a construction company left one of these old hotels still standing and gave one room to an installation artist to decorate as they chose. The installation begins in a large warehouse room, where three walls are covered in artists’ canvases: one wall of photography, another of modern painting on canvas and the last was paintings on transparencies that were then layered on top of each other. Then (as directed by the people running the exhibition) you go up to the very top floor and wander down.
These rooms are so weird. Like really weird. One room was covered in photos of Marilyn Monroe and JFK and phrases like “he loves me, he loves me not” written in lipstick. There was a room where the bathtub was filled with dirt and a tree was bursting through the middle of my bed. There was a room playing childrens’ music with stickers of Disney princesses on the walls. Meanwhile, each bed was made with sheets and pillowcases that said “Pussycat hotel” with the logo emblazoned beneath.
The final room was the video art room. The seats available for watching the film were 8 beds on which you can recline and look up at the screens which were showing everything from silent comedic-murder mystery montages to a film explaining why you should pick up your dog’s poop when you take it for a walk, a lesson BsAs is still learning.
My favorite part by far though, was that after wandering through this absolutely stellar, grotesque and spectacular exhibition, you enter a the show room for what the rooms of this new high-rise apartment building will look like. In other words, you leave the dark twisting maze of corridors and rooms where techno music has been blasting and you enter the pristine, neatly arranged dining room exhibition with its finished wood floors and polished counters while the soothing sounds of elevator music spread across the room. Kind of makes you wish that the red light district was still there.

Las Bombas del Tiempo

Buenos Aires is beautiful in the evenings. Especially now when it’s turning into summer. In the evening, you can remember that a world outside of Buenos Aires actually exists. The light changes and you start to notice the sky and the cloud, and no matter how busy and filled with traffic the streets are, everything seems to stop.
I’ve just finished my English-teaching course. Which turned out to be better than I expected it to be and now it seems like I’ll get placed in a job somewhere in Buenos Aires which would be good. Of course, that schedule depends on English lessons to Ashoka fellows, which definitely goes in the stellar category. Finalmente, the other day, I heard about a group that puts on educational plays in English and then trains you to sing and dance and takes you on tour around South America and Spain! Yay random skills and weird theater folk!
On the note of awesome things in South America, Las Bombas del tiempo rock my world. A group of Argentine-Brazilian percussionists put on a cheap (10 pesos) show every Monday night en Ciudad Cultural Konex, basically an awesome warehouse like performing space. Las Bombas plays in a covered patio with concrete pillars coming down everywhere. Now, I know you’re probably thinking, yeah drum circle, whatevs-. But these guys make freakin percussion orchestra a profession!
At seven (keep in mind this is an Argentine seven, so it’s more like 7:30), the warm-up group or best drum circle you’ve ever heard begins to practice. At eight, about 20 dudes and 1 chick, all decked out in red and black jerseys (with their names on the back!) and track pants come out and play their hearts out for two hours. Which is a pretty intense feat. There are 3 conductors who lead the group (but only one conducts at a time) and all of them manage to create a completely different kickass rager.
Of course it probably helps that most of the crowd is far gone by the end of the show. A beer means 10 pesos for a liter of Quillmes poured into a large plastic cup (and they sell rum and coke and similar tragos in the same sized liter-glass). Meanwhile, everyone is lighting up despite the prohibido fumar signs spattered across the space. Of course, there’s a crazy dance party just waiting to happen… So, you join in and dance like the world is about to end tomorrow.
On top of that, everyone is there. There are dudes who are seventy checking out the practice drumming (not in a creepy way) from seven to eight. There are five year olds there with their parents, there are preppies and hipsters, some strange mixing of a frat party and a reggae fest, a ton of foreigners. It’s like a giant world party. Of course, Las Bombas ends early for Argentine time (at 10 ~ 10.30ish). When it’s over, the crowd spills out onto the street and the street vendors take advantage of the ravenous and exhausted leftover excuses for human beings by offering delicious panes rellenos for only 5 pesos. At which point, everyone who has energy scours the street for an open bar and I wander home feeling glorious and a little bit fuzzy with the concept of reality and crawl into bed.