globevisions

I arrived in Buenos Aires on August second, and it was raining. Five days later it was still raining. A cold and fine rain, only slightly more humid than the low and gray clouds sitting on the buildings' roofs. I bought myself a polera, a turtle neck sweater, since I was coming from the hot summer of the Northern Hemisphere, and I kept it pulled up to my chin all the time. I wandered the city looking down at the sidewalk in order to avoid stepping into the frequent puddles, while wearing a baseball cap that hid the upper part of the buildings from my view. Buenos Aires, to me, wasn't more than puddles and two-story-high palacios ...  continue