Day 2 in B.A. (8/12)

Saturday we went to the Boca district with its colorful buildings (that remind me of Valparaiso), art, and tango restaurants. We saw lot of leather products, mate tea cups and straws, jewelry and tango-dancing figurines. We saw several real couples dancing tango in the street. Deb and I walked along a warf for a while too. Next, we visited the San Telmo district. Buenos Aires is largely influenced by Italian immigrants, so we all had some great Italian food for lunch. We hunted several more churches, then split up so Andres, Priscilla, and Benjamin could take a break from the grueling pace. Deb and I continued on to see the Torre de los Ingleses and the Plaza San Martin. In this plaza we saw a constant stream of bikers ramping off plyboard and performing (what I perceived as death-defying) tricks in the air. One fellow actually launched his bike, jumping off his bike at the same time, swung his bike all the way around his handlebars and landed on the seat again before his bike touched the ground.


On our way back to the hotel a child (about 6 years old, I'd judge) dramatically threw himself in front of me, hands clasp in a pleading fashion. He was making a big show of begging for money, either to be funny or cute. I didn't think it was either. When his nearby mother saw I wasn't going to give him money, she swore at me. So this little boy stood up and swore at me too. Quite the education that child is getting! By this point we had been approached several times by begging children (like those in the doorway in this photo). I asked Priscilla what she thought we should do, so she demonstrated. She kindly touched a begging girl but said firmly "I am sorry, Honey, but we really can't give you money." And she walked away. She explained that many times parents force their children to beg because they get more pity. Meanwhile there are other things the parents should be doing to improve their situation. I want to help children who are in such a sorry position, but I don't want to encourage forced begging. Unfortunately, I am not as gifted as Priscilla at walking away with such kind resolution. I turn with something more like pitiful disbelief.