In this video I have compiled 4 months of footage from living in Buenos Aires, Argentina. Enough said.

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Pre-gaming before going out is a universal activity whether in the United States or Argentina. I doubt it happens much in Saudi Arabia though. During my last few nights in Buenos Aires last July we played “Kings” before my friend’s birthday get-together. “King’s” is a drinking game where players must drink and dispense drinks based on cards drawn. Each card has a rule that is predetermined before the game starts.

The rules to our game

Oh and that one English speaking Gringo

My old Honduran, Dominican, and Brazilian housemates showed!

And like always Gordito somehow always makes stuff like this happen.

That’s also why I don’t have any more photos after this point. Soon after the lights went off and the music began playing a fight broke out.  Meanwhile, the floor was like an ice skating rink to slippery to really move which made the fight more dramatic than it should have been with people flying all over the room.  Someone insulted one of the guy’s girlfriend’s. The guy heard about it and punched the other until both were separated and the party ended like that. The birthday girl and I spent the next few hours trying to get everyone out of the apartment building and then spent another few hours cleaning up the terrace in the freezing cold to avoid pissing off the neighbors.

“I can hear you sputtering from here. What? Fly all night to Argentina to eat in a parilla when every big city in the United States boasts steakhouses promising (some even delivering) prime U.S.D.A. beef? Well, this is grass-fed beef, raised on the vast ocean of chlorophyll called the Pampas. It’s different. Some, including me, would say better, with a rounder flavor, leaner texture and sweeter fat. You eat in a handsome wood-and-leather room in the redeveloped Puerto Madero docklands area, and drink from a wine-wall stocked with fine Mendoza reds like those of Nicolas Catena.

Octavio Caraballo, the owner, supplies all the beef from his own ranch, or estancia. We flew there with him — big guy, bigger cigar, even at 8 in the morning — on his private plane, admired the spread and ate beef (what else?) for lunch. The selection was bigger at dinner back in town, with medallón de lomo (tenderloin) and cuadril (rump) and ojo de bife (rib-eye) covering every inch of the big grills. Little “bombon” sausages and sweetbreads, too.

Warning: They will ply you with so many delicious breads, so many salads and such superb cheese and olives and peppers, that you might not be able to do justice to the beef. Which would be tragic.”

A Despedida is a going away party. Yes, I was going away. My semester at the Universidad de Belgrano had ended (in June) and my travels were going to continue.
My last night, fortunetely a Saturday, meant we were going to the mega club Pacha. It’s a franchise with clubs in Buenos Aires, Sao Paulo, New York City, etc. that hires some of the most famous DJ’s in the world. I had gone to Pacha my first saturday night in Buenos Aires back in February so it was only fitting I would go on my last night in June.

In February I paid 60 pesos entrance, but nothing this time thanks to my well connected owner of the hostel. A bunch of us from the hostel (10+) and some of my American friends came out and it was really a great time.

Me with some of my American buddies.

Check out the guy in the background wearing all white

My Brazilian buddy Alex enjoying himself as always. It’s one thing I really admired about him. He would have a blast no matter where he went. Whether alone or with friends, it did not matter.

And my other buddy Pedro from Mexico. He was always smooth with the ladies but for this time I managed to steal that cute Argentine away from him!

Here is Alex whispering in my ear, challenging me to go dance up on the platform.

Followed by be dragging two beautiful Argentine girls up with me.

Can you say…ladies man?

I think so!

Alex and I waited for the train that would take us to the Retiro, the main transportation center in Buenos Aires. From Retiro we drove in a taxi to Puerto Madero to purchase tickets that would take us on a ferry across the river to Uruguay.

Uruguay is a tiny country next to Buenos Aires and when you look at the two countries there really are only few differences. At least to a tourist like myself only visiting for a long weekend.

The view from the Buquebus ferry in Buenos Aires’s port

Leaving Buenos Aires, Argentina by boat to Colonia, Uruguay.

I thought this older gentleman smoking his pipe was especially classy!

At some point during the 2-3 hour boat ride to Colonia some on-board entertainers held a dance contest and Alex was the first to volunteer. They entertainers paired him up with hyper middle-aged women that looked way to excited to be dancing with him.

And what you can partially see now are the many people watching from upstairs.

While Alex did not win he still received a free beer for participating. The next photo is off the boat where the staff herded anyone going to Uruguay’s capital, Montevideo into buses.

Finally in Montevideo we are dropped off ear our hostel in one of the city’s many plazas.

Each year during March the Argentine people hold a Día de la Memoria in remembrance to commemorate the victims of the military dictatorship, Proceso de Reorganización Nacional. It is held on 24 March, the anniversary of the coup d’état of 1976 that brought the military junta to power.On that day, a military junta overthrew a democratically elected government. Over the next 8 years, up to 30,000 ‘dissidents’ were disappeared.

The dictatorship systematically terrorized its citizenry on ideological grounds. The government closed congress, banned political parties, abolished freedom of speech and freedom of press.In what was claimed to be a war against terrorist and communist groups, the military government persecuted, tortured, and killed citizens who opposed or questioned the dictatorship, expressed leftist views, or simply appeared in the address books of people considered subversive.

In Buenos Aires  I went to the city center with thousands of others to watch concerts, speeches, and other events commemorating it. While I learned a lot about the dirty war in my classes at the University of Belgrano what I witnessed that night was a people proud of their country, having defeated that military dictatorship.

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