It’s been over a month now, and our shift from Peru to Buenos Aires is starting to feel complete. In our short amount of time since arriving in the Porteño capital, we’ve undergone some major lifestyle changes. We no longer spit on the floor, kill our meals or use a hole in backyard as a restroom (Carly is yet to truly grasp this last one). We’ve catapulted our lives across the continent into entirely new and different existences.
However, the more I try and force myself to recap the ups and downs of the last 2 ½ months, the more I feel myself avoiding the urge to produce some list of observations. Instead of going on and on, I’ve chosen to do what comes easiest. I’m going to, as an alternative, talk about what we did last weekend.
Carly and I rose at an average time for a Sunday here in Buenos Aires…1pm. This is somewhat better understood when one learns that, as with all events on Saturday evenings, the night prior we hadn’t gone out until 2am. In fact when we arrived to see the popular Zizek DJ Group at Club Niceto somewhere just before 2, we were so early that we had to wait out on the sidewalk with the rest of the pre-partiers for the club’s doors to open.
So we woke up at the fresh morning hour of 1pm. Not wanting to waste any piece of such a gorgeous day we quickly threw on our shorts and headed off to the zoo. Lucky for us, as young-residents of Buenos Aires’ hippest barrio, Palermo SOHO, fun attractions such as the zoos and parks are only steps from our front door.
Upon arrival, we paid the zoo’s admission fee and joined the heavy throngs of weekend families. Not long after entering the chaos, somewhere just around where zoo photographers try and sell you photos of yourself, we came across a both selling alimentación de animales, or animal feed. ‘Cute’ we thought, ‘must mean they’ve got one of those petting zoos with goats somewhere nearby.’
Moments later, we had quite the surprise when coming around a corner our eyes landed on an enormous brown bear. In addition to being massive, the bear was pacing furiously back and forth in his semi-enclosed grotto. Soon after our arrival, the bear, which was only separated by 10ft. of poorly engineered ravine, demonstrated his agitation by standing on his rear haunches and letting out a monstrous roar. My own girlish-screams were only drowned out by the hysterical balling of the five year old who was now curled up in a ball next to me. As the crowd gathered to gawk at the ferocious animal, my thoughts drifted to a well publicized mauling which took place in San Francisco.
Several years ago, Tatiana the Tiger escaped her own specially constructed grotto to exact revenge on several boys about my own age. That mauling had been the result of Tatina’s provocation, as the young boys had actually thrown objects at the caged tiger. But what could be causing this colossal bear’s similar reactions?
“Oh look a group of young men, not far from my age hurling projectiles into the cage.”
“No, stop, you idiots the bear is pissed and soon to call upon some adrenaline-filled super-strength and jump out of that pit and kill us all!”
Truthfully, Carly was the one on the verge of telling them what “hijos de perras” they were being (she’s surprisingly far more comfortable with confrontation than I), when we made a keen discovery. Turns out this group of tontos was plucking their artillery from a bucket of alimentación de animales.
We’d been wrong about the feed. It was not, as it turns out, cute grain pellets intended for curious goats and sheep, but in fact industrial buckets of hockey puck sized wafers. After some inquiry, we learned that the source of this bears rage was simply a park-sanctified morsel. Not only were this group of assailants not in the wrong, but for 10 Pesos we discovered we too could chuck pellet-pucks at bears or any other animal in the zoo’s facilities. As we left the odd scene at the bear grotto behind, we walked further into the grounds only to witness buffalos, giraffes and crocodiles all targeted by pellet-pucks.
What’s worse is that the carts which sold alimentación de animals were all positioned confusingly close the rest of the park’s venders. This meant for those zoo goers too young to grasp the puck-feed concept (of which I am one), the products sold in other carts seemed an only likely substitute for the costly bucket-o-pucks. Everywhere we went 12 year olds hurled half-eaten hot dogs at zebras, and 10 year olds poured buckets of popcorn on the backs of tortoises. I suppose I can’t really blame them, as the concept of a one size feeds all hockey puck, for every animal in the zoo is just as confusing to me.
Either way, Carly and I eventually left the zoo, choosing to bypass the frantic booth where they proudly displayed printed copies of the portraits they’d taken of us two hours earlier when we’d entered. Though we only saw two people buying their portraits, I suppose it’s worth it to print five copies of every guest who enters the park assuming that they will purchase them on the way out.
So that’s my Buenos Aires update. I think that one experience best summarizes the City and what we’ve been up to since arriving here. Everywhere we go things continue to amuse us and turns out Buenos Aires is no different.
Abrazos y besitos to all of our friends and family, and thanks for reading!
Wild Park Nutria
