San Telmo

San Telmo, Buenos Aires, Argentina
19 December 2008

On my last full day in B.A. I walk to the barrio of San Telmo, which is near the city center. San Telmo appeals to bohemian travelers b/c of the decadent and gracefully decayed look of the neighborhood, the diverse residents, the working class background, and its rough port-side history. I start out exploring earlier than recent days, hoping to walk about before the heat hammer hurts me.

I like the old three and four story buildings I find, which remind me of the neighborhoods of San Francisco. It's quieter and cleaner than the nearby richer neighborhoods I've been walking.

I decide to stop, relax, read my Kindle and have a café con leche for an hour.

I’m reading Daniel Dennett’s book “Breaking the Spell” about the natural philosophy and scientific approach to understanding the evolution of religion. All this alone time in B.A. allows me to think not just about what I’m now reading in Dennett, but what I’ve read earlier this year (Irvin Yalom’s “Staring at the Sun”, Grinspoon’s “Lonely Planets” prominently)…

Exploring again: my favorite street in San Telmo is Piedras. I stop there and stare at a used and antique bookstore for a while. Such a beautiful collection of old books in English and Spanish. It’s no longer common to see a bookstore that reflects the intellectual tastes of the owner – and this one clearly does. Down the street is what looks like a real tango classroom, “Dandi.” It obviously is also a tourist experience, but the beaten wooden floors and somwhat spare look of the place shows that it is a real performance and teaching space. It’s a lovely thing to look at, and for the first time here I think: something to come back to. I think back to a surprise earlier in the week: the subway (which functions well here) has a scattering of old, beautiful wooden cars which I suddenly encountered one day. I think B.A. may be like that: gritty, not-that-nice, but pockets of things to appreciate and surprises for the patient, and not a city easily appreciated at first.

Part of my project this last year has been to work on my own understanding of meaning, mortality and love. A big project. But these days in B.A., and especially San Telmo, have proved useful in this project. I’m alone so much of my time here, and I am not finding much diversion in this giant city. Perfect. It’s what I set out to do half a year ago.

I find myself in a big park, El Parque Lezama. Old men play chess on the concrete chess boards and drug addicts panhandle. It feels like my neighborhood back in SF. It’s tranquil here, though the heat is starting to make my head buzz. I stand under palm trees and think a bit more.

Ideas are connecting up: my need for connection, where it comes from, how to live the rest of my life, what good works I want to dedicate myself to, how to give meaning to my life, how to let go of romantic attachment and my need to merge with a partner, the future of human evolution, the nature of the universe, of consciousness… Things are pinging and popping in my head, and I set sail for a nice looking café I spot across Calle Brasil from Lezama to eat lunch and write my fleeting thoughts down.

Resto 1984 (no link – 379 Brasil) holds ex-pats from around the world, visitors and San Telmo residents. I’m scratching thoughts down in my guidebook note page, while some young Brits negotiate with a couple of older men (partners, I’m pretty sure) to rent a flat here. American English, British English, Spanish, some eastern European language drifts from the corner of the place. The food is wholesome, and I’m grateful there are vegetables. Some cool Mendoza white wine…

Afterwards I walk along the port and back to the Art Hotel for a nap. I feel good about the emotional and intellectual part of my travel project, like I’m doing the right thing here.

I don’t have the answers, but the questions are sharpening.