And I arrived in Ezeiza, or the Buenos Aires Airport, also know as Ministro Pistarini Airport.
First thing: lines. Oh, I had almost forgotten the lines! Apparently, there was a strike of customs control personnel, so.... I'd say, a 50-100 meter line, after picking the luggage? Then another line, to change money. I got a wad of local cash for my $ 300. It turns out, there are now notes of 500 and 1000 pesos. And then... the line to get a taxi. But these were Argentine lines - friendly and folkloric, if boring and unwanted - not angry, frustrated Soviet lines. Having lived in different cultures and political systems gives you some prospective, after all.
I take this as a deep sign of the Spirit or the gods that my dear friend and colleague Luis Sava was in the waiting area of the airport, awaiting his cousin who happened to arrive from the US in the same flight from Atlanta as I did. It was beyond nice to see a friendly face at the first steps into a place that mobilizes my deepest apprehensions and emotions.
The visit to the National Registry at the airport proved useful as well - they advised me how to obtain my National Identity Card in Buenos Aires in 24 hours.
During my taxi trip to the city I took a call from the US - there was a fundraising meeting taking place, for the China tour of my orchestra, and it was important that the people we were asking money from heard my voice. Well timed!
Wonderful weather in Buenos Aires - indeed, a little on the hot side for me, after adjusting to North Dakota's spring.
Now in my rented apartment, barely two block away from our dear phallic monument, the Obelisk :)
Time for Gardel's immortal "Mi Buenos Aires querido"
https://youtu.be/Pb9Hv9lw5Tw
First thing: lines. Oh, I had almost forgotten the lines! Apparently, there was a strike of customs control personnel, so.... I'd say, a 50-100 meter line, after picking the luggage? Then another line, to change money. I got a wad of local cash for my $ 300. It turns out, there are now notes of 500 and 1000 pesos. And then... the line to get a taxi. But these were Argentine lines - friendly and folkloric, if boring and unwanted - not angry, frustrated Soviet lines. Having lived in different cultures and political systems gives you some prospective, after all.
I take this as a deep sign of the Spirit or the gods that my dear friend and colleague Luis Sava was in the waiting area of the airport, awaiting his cousin who happened to arrive from the US in the same flight from Atlanta as I did. It was beyond nice to see a friendly face at the first steps into a place that mobilizes my deepest apprehensions and emotions.
The visit to the National Registry at the airport proved useful as well - they advised me how to obtain my National Identity Card in Buenos Aires in 24 hours.
During my taxi trip to the city I took a call from the US - there was a fundraising meeting taking place, for the China tour of my orchestra, and it was important that the people we were asking money from heard my voice. Well timed!
Wonderful weather in Buenos Aires - indeed, a little on the hot side for me, after adjusting to North Dakota's spring.
Now in my rented apartment, barely two block away from our dear phallic monument, the Obelisk :)
Time for Gardel's immortal "Mi Buenos Aires querido"
https://youtu.be/Pb9Hv9lw5Tw
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