Friday, September 27, 2019

Under the Southern Cross

Here  is a much delayed post again,  about a short sojourn in a far away place which somehow conveys a sense of being not unlike home. This was South America again, this time Argentina and Brazil.  As always, the visas came through on departure date minus one, the ministry of civil aviation maintained strict silence in response to frantic emails, Mumbai airport flooded, and friendly souls  in Admin 1  maintained that it will all work out by DDay.  (It did!) Here is  a picture of  Mumbai airport, looking not at all flooded, and rather futuristic.



No time for stop overs, alas, despite the exotic nature of the stop, and a first visit to Africa: Addis  Ababa in Ethiopia.  The  airport looks like a beat up version of Brussels airport but is full of a colorful mix of races and nations. A  long haul to Buenos Aires, passing through Sao Paolo.





So here is Buenos Aires, on a cold morning, it's winter in the southern hemisphere. A bustling and sophisticated city, the Paris of South America, looking a trifle frayed at the edges. All South American economies have taken a hit, since the last visit, in 2013, just like ours has. It's also been a little perverse, just like us. The skyscrapers are the view from the Catholic University. The obelisk is the obelisk in the City Center,




Next stop, the famed  University of Buenos Aires, with its tragic wall, a list of all the students, faculty and staff who have joined the ranks of the missing, but on more cheerful note, Prof. Gabriel Mindlin's lab, and it's analysis of birdsong.  We happen to be around on Argentina's national day, so the city centre hosts a parade, complete with drums and schoolgirls dressed up in spanish crinolines.





 Last of all,  the Casa Rosada, the Argentinian presidential palace.  Eva Peron and Juan Peron used to stand in the balcony where you see the Argentinian flag, and address rousing revolutionary speeches to the crowds assembled below (probably the Argentinian equivalent of the sans culottes, to mix up countries, continents and centuries). The Peronistas  are alive and well in current day Argentina, though not exactly in power.



There was tango in  the streets, and a lovely market in the old quarter, no pictures alas!
Finally,  back again to Sao Paulo, a week of hectic work, and a flight home again,  via Africa.
No one asked for the dreaded yellow fever certificate, acquired at great expense of time and money on a previous trip. Adios  Argentina, don't cry for  me. I will be back once I forget the jet lag!


This blog post is by Neelima Gupte and Sumathi Rao (who was present on Whatsapp).




No comments: