Day 2 - "There are dead bugs in your hair"

Nov 16, 2017 - Buenos Aires, Argentina

Last night I didn’t really sleep until 7 AM.  We planned to get up and run at 6 AM before the heat settled in.  I had a fever, sore throat, and a whole lotta mucus making my life less than awesome.  After an ibuprofen, we set off for the day, looking for some indoor activities, given that the extreme heat would be met in the afternoon by rain. 

But first, breakfast.  Many of the eating places in the Palermo neighborhood have outdoor seating, the kind along the road where you may get clipped by someone’s sideview mirror as they drive by, or where you can watch up close and personal as someone tries to parallel park, giving no regards to the bumpers they crush when they smash car into a drastically undersized spot.  We huddled under a patio umbrella, to optimize the shade (and  seek coverage from the construction occurring a few floors up that was sprinkling cement debris down below).  After we finished eating, Evan looked at me with a funny look.  “What is it?” I asked. He replied calmly, “There are dead bugs in your hair.”  I laughed thinking I probably had some specks of cement.  No, dead bugs.  Lots of them.  While we were busy seeking coverage from the sun and falling cement, we didn’t realize that there was debris falling off the other side of the umbrella and in to my hair.  Any most if it was, you guessed it, dead bugs.…EW as I’m writing this, I realized I forgot about this and have NOT washed my hair since!......be right back…..

.............ok, back.
In the afternoon, we headed out for another self-guided walking tour of the city. A very dear friend had stayed in Buenos Aires for a few months previously and graciously gave us a list of places to check out. One of those spots we navigated to is a cemetery called Cementario de Recoleta. When we arrived, we wandered around the cemetery, wondering how these giant cement shrines were placed (Helicopter?  Crane?  Built on site?) and who were these people.  There was a crowd around Evita’s shrine.  I didn’t know much about Evita, and regret not watching the movie with Madonna before coming here.  I am inspired my the little I have read to read more, as I understand her to be quite significant in women's rights in Argentina (ask me again later, I promise I'll know more).

After accidentally walking into a local university building and confusing it for the National Art Museum, we got back on track and visited Bella Artes.  The museum was full of mostly paintings from all over, even a Monet.

We had then intended to carry on to the MALBA, but the ibuprofen wore off, and I was feeling weak and feverish again, so we headed home.

Evan was feeling better than I was, so he decided to go for a run, and then pick up some empanadas and a 6.5 liter bottle of drinking water on his way back. His run was successful; he even managed to find the polo grounds where the Argentina Open Polo tournament was being played.  He promised to take me tomorrow.

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