Yesterday, I went to La Boca, an area in Buenos Aires that is considered both dangerous and dangerously touristy.  This colorful neighborhood is often depicted in Argentine art and is home to the Boca Juniors, a soccer team.  Locals seem to only want to visit La Boca if they are headed to a game.  Its high pickpocket rate and cheesy restaurants are not attractive to many Argentines.  

The buildings are quite a sight, though.  La Boca is south of the city center and was the main port through which immigrants arrived.  The immigrants settled where they docked and started a poor, but close knit community.  Because their houses were made from a cheap metal, they required annual upkeep to keep from rusting.  To repaint the houses, the (mostly Italian) immigrants would go to the port at night and steal the nearly empty cans of paint used to paint the ships.  Because of the random assortment of colors, La Boca’s streets are lined with bright shades of red, orange, green, blue, and many others.  Today, the tradition is upheld no longer because of financial reasons, but because of visual appeal.  And, nobody would ever go to Boca if not to snap pictures.  

Today was my first Spanish class here.  Completely in Spanish, I was hesitant to begin and pretty overwhelmed by the end.  Listening requires a lot of effort on my part and 2 hours of it drained me a bit.  I’m decently sure that I understand my homework assignment.  

After a rooftop lunch shared with friends, we venture to the Museo de Bella Artes, a free and exquisite museum.  IES provided a tour guide who really knew her stuff (so far as I know).  She explained to us the important role the landscape plays in Argentine art and pointed out many aspects of pieces that would have gone unnoticed by me.  She was ecstatic when I questioned why the frame of one of the paintings was so thick and detailed.  She launched into a speech about how the painter had purposefully used a sort of sacred frame to draw more significance to his work.  

Upstairs in the museum we walked through the decades starting with the 1940’s.  Each definitely had it’s own flavor.  The 50’s seemed bland and structured, the 60’s gave me a headache from all of the patterns, and the 70’s were downright scary.  There were some serious statements made about the government and how oppressive it became.  One particular sculpture made me cringe, and I got goosebumps from a busy painting with skeletons, deranged women and masks.  There were also people parachuting in the background, which I found curious.  

Americo Castilla, the director of IES and renowned artist, also has work exhibited in this museum.  It was a wall-ful of spectacular colors and designs.  I was very impressed.  

I purposefully walked a longer route home so as to find a nice, but cheaper caf� to study in (once I have something to study), but my quest came up short.  Coffee can be very overpriced and often is more so in chain caf�s like I have around my house.  My study spot and I have yet to find each other, but I’m confident it will happen soon.  I won’t give up.  

Best.

Location: Buenos Aires, Argentina