The Satrapy

Too bad that, cut out as you are
for grand and noble acts,
this unfair fate of yours
never offers encouragement,
always denies you success;
that cheap habits get in your way,
pettiness, or indifference.
And how terrible the day you give in
(the day you let go and give in)
and take the road for Susaand go to King Artaxerxes,
who, well-disposed, gives you a place at his court
and offers you satrapies and things like that
—things you don’t want at all,
though, in despair, you accept them just the same.
You long for something else, ache for other things:
praise from the Demos and the Sophists,
that hard-won, that priceless acclaim—
the Agora, the Theatre, the Crowns of Laurel.
You can’t get any of these from Artaxerxes,
you’ll never find any of these in the satrapy,
and without them, what kind of life will you live?
C.P.Cavafy

Días y noches

I am reading it slowly. A couple of pages per day. Because I don´t want it to finish... It´s been the best part of my days.

The rain

I was behind them, moving under the sheltered open-air corridor of the station. A little girl was walking holding hands with her blind mum, just one small step ahead of her.

"It´s raining", the mother said.
"No", said the little girl.
"Daniela, look, it´s raining", the mother insisted. "Don´t you see?".
"No", answered again the little girl.
"Daniela", said again the mother with determination, "listen, it´s raining."

I smiled, suddenly filled with a feeling of happiness. The storm came a couple of seconds later and nobody could doubt anymore that it was actually raining.

The city of the dead

They were 62 beautiful minutes about misery, philosophy, happiness and life (and death) in general.

A lady was explaining that they had had to leave the tomb they were leaving in, for which they were paying 1 and a half pound, and rent another for 70. She was peeling potatoes. Her young daughter was washing the dishes. "Are you happy", they asked her. She gave a big smile. "Yes, thank God", she answered, without hesitating a bit.

Things I miss

I am thinking of the things I miss. Waking up light and eager to start. Belonging. Feeling complete. Enjoying. Things being simple. The expectation of Friday night and the weekend.

Today, now, I miss all of them together. It´s an overdose.

Still there

"El miedo amenaza.
Si usted ama, tendrá sida.
Si fuma, tendrá cancer.
Si respira, tendrá contaminación.
Si bebe, tendrá accidentes.
Si come, tendrá colesterol.
Si habla, tendrá desempleo.
Si camina, tendrá violencia.
Si piensa, tendrá angustia.
Si duda, tendrá locura.
Si siente, tendrá soledad."
 
Eduardo Galeano

And now?

"Hay una hora en la tarde en que la noche está por decir algo; nunca lo dice o tal vez lo dice infinitamente y no lo entendemos, o lo entendemos pero es intraducible como una música...".

Jorge Luis Borges

Argentina, day 16 - Buenos Aires and back

I carry with me the images of angels. Those the indians painted for the church of Uquia and those by Hagelstange.

Argentina, day 15 - Buenos Aires

A day dedicated to museums and parks. And to discovering small bits of Jorge Luis Borges, here and there.

“Así fueron muriendo los días y con los días los años, pero algo parecido a la felicidad ocurrió una mañana. Llovió, con lentidud poderosa”.

Argentina, day 14 - Buenos Aires

In this country, history is everywhere. Politics too. And the way people adored Evita fifty years ago and continue to do so (I saw a man kissing her tomb this morning), some people seem to nurture the same kind of admiration and devotion for Cristina Kircnher. The politicians never fail to use and explore these kind of feelings. It feels too much.

Today I walked from the centre to Recoletta and from there to the Congress and back to the Plaza de Mayo. I saw beautiful neighborhoods, reminding me a lot of Athens. I had to think hard to remember where I was. It is easy to talk to people in the street, especially shop owners. It was such a pleasure talking to a grocer today about the quality of aubergines.

A stop at Café Tortoni for lunch. A tourist trap, really. The café is absolutely beautiful. Everything else a robbery, that´s why the locals don´t go there. I met the locals later, for coffee, at the Café Puerto Rico. Not as glamorous, but it doesn´t make you feel a stupid tourist.

At exactly 3.30 pm, the Madres de Plaza de Mayo started their weekly march. I looked at their faces, trying to imagine, if possible, how it feels. I felt ashamed for taking photos, they are not exactly an attraction and I am not a reporter. But they are history, live history, in front of our eyes. Tomorrow I´ll meet someone whose husband and two brothers were taken away from a family lunch one day and never seen again. She was left with two babies. How many more stories like that in this country... And others... How did they find the way to go on?

At the end of the day, I went to the Buenos Aires Book Fair, just to finish myself off. So many people, so many books I felt like buying. And then dinner in Palermo and nice, warm red wine from Salta. It was a beautiful almost summer day in Buenos Aires.

Argentina, day 13 - Buenos Aires

Buenos Aires for me is a mixture of Athens, Paris and New York. Today I walked all the way from the centre, through San Telmo, to La Boca and back. Lots of colour and a sense of being somewhere I had been before.

When I visited the Teatro Colon a few days ago, they told us that the porteños had wanted to build a theatre to match the european ones. A theatre like those in Paris. Later on, in Santa Fe, someone was talking to me about Buenos Aires ans its cultural life and compared it, once again, to Paris. In the course of another conversation, when I included the Argentines among latin american people, someone, half joking, told me: “We are not Latin Americans, we are Europeans”. It´s a big mixture, that´s what it is.

I had lunch on a café terrace. It was warm and sunny and I desperately needed to rest. There was a nice movement in Plaza Dorrego, in San Telmo, both tourists and porteños.

Two demonstrations later (it seems to be a daily happening here), I got to Confetaria Ideal. It was 5pm and on the first floor there were already many couples dancing the tango. All tables here have one chair, all looking towards the dance floor. People come alone, the majority in their 60s or more. The music starts and they are exchanging glances, looking for a partner. It´s an interesting ritual and the dancing is beautiful. But there is something decadent in it as well.

Whenever you need it, a café Havanna is near you. Paradise. I think I´ve already tasted all possible versions of alfajores.

Argentina, day 12 - Santa Fe and back to Buenos Aires

Today I visited four museums in Santa Fe. Three of them are in the same square, all dealing with the town´s past. The fourth one was the Museum of Fine Arts Rosa Galisteo de Rodriguez. And there I discovered the work of Lucero Hagelstange, an artist from Santa Fe, who seems to admire Gauguin... The exhibition´s title was "Myth: Angels in Paradise". With all the images I carry with me from this trip, his paintings touched me in a very special way.

I am back in Buenos Aires. Last part of the trip. I was a bit nervous, almost everybody kept advising me to be very careful, in the street, in getting into a taxi. Four more days.

Argentina, day 11 - Santa Fe

The rhythm is quiet different these last two days. Taking things easy.  Thinking a lot. The internal countdown has started and it´s having its effects. 

In the morning, I went to visit the Palacio Legislativo. It`s one of the three the country has, but maybe the most important, because the constitution was signed in Santa Fe. The painting "The Constitution leading the people" is quite suggestive. It was painted by Guillermo Roux.

In every city or town I have passed so far there is a San Martin, Belgrado, Lavalle or Mitre street. And also a 25 de Mayo or 9 de Julio street and many more dates. The Argentines are very attached to their history. The names of the military who led the war for independence or presidents or the dates of important battles are marked for ever in their streets. You can learn this country´s history by asking "who was this?" or "What happened then?". It happens in every country, but here it seems to be more extended. And, of course, the argentine flag is absolutely everywhere.

Here people greet each other with one kiss. Also men with men. Laura´s boys never forget to give me two; I come from Portugal. It´s interesting to see how they kept the country inside them. They were happy there, it probably makes all the difference.

Argentina, day 10 - Santa Fe

Winter came suddenly. Very strong wind and rain, very cold. We went for a walk in the morning, but the whole town seemed to be sleeping. In the afternoon we took the car and went around. Santa Fe has a huge river and in the summer they even have beaches, but now they are covered with water.

I am still fascinated with the number of old cars. Falcons are particularly beautiful. Nevertheless, green falcons were the cars used by secret police during the dictatorship ('el proceso' they call it here) to take people away in the middle of the night. Green falcons meant terror. Now they paint them in many different colours.

First political conversation today. I had been looking forward to it. There is so much to talk about in this country.

Too much time to think today...

Argentina, day 9 - Agustin´s wedding

I hadn´t been to a wedding in ages. I avoid them in any way I can. But this wedding was the best reason (and excuse) to finally make this trip to Argentina.

Weddings tend to be too long. And all the same, also. But I was introduced to very nice and cheerful people, pleased to finally meet "la griega", eager to invite me to their place, to show me around, to make me eat until I would say "please, no more". 

But the most special thing about this wedding was the tenderness in the way Agustin looked at his young bride and his smile, that revealed the 12-year-old boy I met years ago.