Shared Illusions

Boy, did I have a shock today! I’ve been carrying a couple of post cards around for days, looking for a post office to buy stamps. Finally, recognizing that just walking around and looking for one was not actually getting me to one, I started asking around. Even then, spotting it was a challenge. It’s like it was incognito, fading into the background. Even the sign was small and insignificant.

Upon entering we dutifully got in line. A nice gentleman took notice of our obvious foreigness – and lack of package – and informed us we should take a number to purchase stamps. The wait was not long, but upon arriving at the window and ordering stamps, I was told to head toward the door and to enter into an office off to the side for stamp purchase. Which is really nice, actually, as it’s much quicker – if you know what you’re doing.

Now for the shock. Each postcard stamp cost $150 Argentine Pesos! That’s $4.00 USD! So, unless you are my mother, you won’t be getting a postcard. Oh, except for that very special friend who requested one. You know who you are.

Oh, and if you complain about the US Post Office, stop.

Today was a day to get oriented to other travel modes. We took the subway to the Retiro train station. We’ll be meeting Elena (met her on the Portuguese Caminho) there at 9 am on Sunday to go to Tigre, a river delta town for some quiet down time.

We found the bus station and picked up a list of bus lines so we can research which will be the best to take for our overnight trip to Mendoza.

And we made it to the Ferry terminal, called Buquebus. That is just weird to me. First because bus. Second, because Buque sounds too much like Burque.

We’ll take the ferry to Uruguay – for a day trip to Colonia del Sacramento and then again to Montevideo. Charlie might have written something different regarding these travel plans. Things are subject to change.

Back on the site seeing track, we went to Galeries Pacífico on the recommendation of friends to see the cupola and the Borges Cultural Center. The Galeries is basically a shopping mall, but in a beautiful old building. Aside from the cupola with the mural seen below, there is another glass cupola. We could see the clouds racing across the sky.

We don’t generally take too many photos of ourselves, but I couldn’t resist this one.

At the Borges, we saw a photo exhibition,  Korean Dreams, by Nathalie Daoust. Here is something about it that I found on the internet: “The difficulty of reconciling systemic violence and repression with this shiny world led Daoust to focus on the liminal spaces that exist on the edge of the ‘tourist zone.’  By shooting furtively while traveling between destinations she was able to capture an alternate narrative.  Guided by the notion that North Koreans are residing in a “dream-state,” where truth is not lived but imposed by those in power, her anonymous forms wander ghostlike through the landscape. From civilians bicycling against an urban backdrop, to military personnel marching stridently in line and schoolchildren staring pensively out of the frame, these figures seem to exist suspended in an ambiguous, timeless dimension.  Playing with the line between fiction and reality, Daoust exposes an indeterminate space where ‘truth’ and ‘lies’ are interchangeable.”

And here is a photo: 

I loved the other timeliness of these. Each photo is accompanied by a short description that I found very helpful for entering into the hi-story. I do wonder how it is she was able to be there. And I think she should never go back, for if the Korean government knows about this, she’s sure to be arrested.

Returning to our apartment I noticed a church with open doors. Friday night mass. You can see it’s sparsley attended. We have not seen nor been in nearly as many churches as we have done in Mexico, Spain, Portugal. Nor are the churches anywhere near as ornate. That’s something to research.

Here is my “art shot” for the day. Not that I’ve posted one a day. There are so many beautiful buildings. I spend half the time looking up and admiring them.

Hasta la próxima. Paula