Buenos Aires: a huge city with hundreds of blocks, a crazy city, restless, extremely noisy. A mixture of Paris for its architecture and New York City for its density and energy. Antique dealers sell wonders.
Order and reorder a cafe, buy a ticket in one of the 600 buses , listen to the stories of taxi drivers. My Spanish is nonexistent.
The puedo sacar una foto por favor? The light is beautiful, but very hard at lunchtime.
Argentines who swear by God to Tierra Santa, the holy land, a Disney Land for believers.
Another Argentine religion: el manjar. Dulce de leche cakes, half milk jam, half cream with caramel and panaderia every ten meters. But Barbecues organized by friends: a real show. And tea mate of course.
Buenos Aires is full of contradictions and the gap between rich and poor is so blatant from one neighborhood to another. It's a bit like St Denis and Neuilly were 1km from each other.
Visit Pablo, a young football player in the footsteps of Maradona. Pablo lives in a favela in Buenos Aires, with his parents and eight siblings in 30-square-meter. The discharge pipe of the toilet goes through the middle of the main room. Unhealthy conditions, lack of insulation, stray cats and dogs, slush... And people are so open-minded, humorous, stuck together.
Some say: the women here are the most beautiful of the world. Are they the most beautiful in the world, perched on heels, with their artificial femininity, their false breasts, their remade mouth, their always long hair? What about the more natural looking women? At the end of the day the milongas invite to listen to calming tango songs. Melancholy and sensuality. Suave music. Invitation to dream. Invitation to dance... and to step on a few feet.