OK. So I Ate at McDonald's. SUE ME!

Buenos Aires Travel Blog

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            My parents would pitch a fit if they knew.  After funding my entire trip from their hard-earned money for me to come to South America and broaden my cultural horizons, what do I have for dinner my 2nd night here?  Oh yeah, Mickey D’s.  Now before anyone passes judgment, I was simply serving my country as a cultural ambassador and ensuring that the great citizens of Argentina were being treated fairly and given the same opportunity to enjoy quality hamburgers that us Americans take for granted every day.  *End BS*  OK, so I wanted a Big Mac, err… excuse me, uno Big Mac.  Holding out for a solid 36 hours, I finally caved under the desire for a taste of home.  Don’t get me wrong, I love the empanadas.  I love the lomo.  And I love the… empanadas.  But there’s something about that Grade D meat smothered in Special Sauce that I had to have. 

It’s amazing to think that a place 6,000 miles from a country that is slowly killing itself with this so-called food (and has been for about 50 years) voluntarily signed up on this same recipe for demise.  And what’s even more amazing is that they’re more than happy to spend 10 pesos every day to do it.  I’ve met few people in Buenos Aires that speak English, let alone understand American cultural oddities, but apparently “Big Mac” is a universal phrase for globalization that everyone understands.  So what do I think about our rampant capitalist expansion into South America?  Ba da ba ba baaa...  I’m lovin’ it!

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            They used to call Buenos Aires the “Paris of South America.”  Apparently it wasn’t just the artistic style of the city that warranted that moniker.  Keeping true to its namesake, Buenos Aires really is another “city of love.”  And the natives aren’t afraid to show it.  I challenge anyone to go into a bar without seeing a pair of lovebirds sucking face.  Or worse (but thankfully I haven’t experienced that quite yet).  Perhaps the locals didn’t get the memo when the rest of us did that NO ONE WANTS TO SEE THAT.  I’m just trying to enjoy my 4 dozen empanadas that I just bought for 5 pesos, and I really don’t need the uh… unique noises I hear over my shoulder. 

Worried I was the only one who cared or noticed, I asked fellow students what they thought about all the reckless affection this city has to offer.  Not receiving much of a surprise, I found they were equally as disgusted.  Perhaps it’s just us Americans that are too sensitive.  I guess when it comes down to it there are definitely worse things.  At least they appear to care for each other.  It’s certainly better than being in a city where everyone is fighting and killing each other.  Hopefully one day we can all just get along… but maybe not be so exuberant in showing it.

sohmer says:
oh no. i love the love that flows in the street. at home i find it really nasty and very showy, but here is seems so genuine. like they could just kiss for hours and not notice the whole city that surrounds them. i find it inspiring, but i'm hopelessly romantic.
Posted on: May 22, 2006

            If there’s one thing Buenos Aires needs, it’s another pizza place.  I really don’t think they have quite enough.  But seriously, in the week that I’ve been here, I often have to stop and try to figure out what city I’m in.  Did my flight mistakenly go to New York City?  Chicago?  Why am I asking these questions?  It’s probably because I didn’t know that BA was secretly the pizza headquarters of the world.  You can’t walk a city block without seeing a pizza place or at least a place that happens to serve pizza (which happens to be everywhere, actually).

            I laugh when I think that pizza was somewhere relatively high on my list of things I might miss while abroad for 2 months.  Little did I know exactly how deep the Italian influence reached in this city.  And little did I know exactly how good the pizza was going to be.  These pies aren’t some sorry attempt just so Buenos Aires can say they have pizza too.  They’re good.  I mean real good.  One of the slices, from Morito’s I believe it was, actually vaulted into my Top 5 favorite pizzas of all time.  Being the pizza connoisseur I am, that’s definitely notable.  Something about having cheese, ham, more cheese, egg, and olives that makes me feel I’ve found pure happiness. 

Finding all these pizza places was definitely unexpected and definitely appreciated.  Although I’ve already started to get sick of pizza, I’m happy to know that when I’m ready to have another slice (about 6:00 tomorrow I figure) there will be a place ready to serve me that’s literally a stone’s throw away.