Aerobics y Borges

I went on a little bit of a literary adventure today...but first some fun with the gay guys I met at the cafe. For those of you not interested in aerobics and general gay-ness (oh wait, who are you and why are you reading my blog?) and only interested in the literary-ness of the day can skip to part II - Borges below.

I - doing aerobics in Recoleta

It rained in Beunos Aires today, which was a relief to me, cooling things off a bit and making me glad for carrying that umbrella I purchased in Seattle for the trip (thanks Laurie!) no longer a useless bit of weight in my bag. I sat in the cafe longer than usual this morning - watching the portenos (term for the people who live in the port of Buenos Aires) run by in the rain with no coats (summer) or umbrellas - I was about to remark that I thought it funny none of them have them when of course an old lady with a little blue and red plaid umbrella walked by as if on cue.

While hanging out at the cafe, the waitress asked me where I was from and I said America and when she questioned me further I told her I was from San Francisco. As soon as the words were out of my mouth I had 2 new friends, the well appointed men from a nearby table, who overheard and came to ask where in the city I lived. Marcelo and Serge had been there last year for pride and thought it was the greatest thing ever. I said I thought Buenos Aires seemed like a nice city too, but, well they were not swayed and regaled me with some of their pride filled debauchery from the year before.

Anyway, oddly enough in the course of talking, I ended up with an invitation to go to the gym with them and since it was raining I thought what the heck. Now I thought I'd just be lifting some weights and spending sometime on the treadmill...little did I know what they had in store for me. what seemed like an innocent trip to the gym - me thinking "this is great, before I head off on some gastronomical adventures involving too much beef, I can work some of it off" - turned into something completely different. Imagine aerobics - think circa 1980 - with ten to twelve sweating, screaming, adorable, lycra-clad, (I'm pretty sure they were all) gay men (yes one of them even wore a pink headband ala Jamie Lee Curtis) and in the center of it all me, kinda out of shape, decent dancer, girl from small town Vermont, suddenly like Madonna or something.

Like many other moments in my travels, if you had told me when I was 15 or 20 that this would be happening to me one day, I never would have believed you. Anyway, we sweat, danced, sang and generally shook our collective bootie to all manner of American and Latino pop songs ( I wouldn't have been surprised if they'd played Olivia Newton John's "physical"...but they didn't...but you can imagine the great dancing that ensued when they DID play Madonna's like a virgin) and all the while I was oddly the guest of honor simply because I hailed from that strange epicenter of the gay universe, San Francisco. Like my midnight taxi ride in London from the Iraqi Kurd who drove me - this may in fact be the highlight of this trip, and unless Deep gets on a plane to have a flashdance down here in B.A. I am not sure the dancing will get any more fun. It IS fun to be a star for a day.

II - Borges
So, now for what will undoubtedly seem like a boring adventure to many of you...especially the lycra-wearing aerobicists...but I share it because I know a handful of you might like it, plus, secretly - all the fun of the aerobics class aside - this is even more my kind of rainy day fun.

First off - I hit the largest English language bookstore in BA. It was about the size of ritual coffee (for those of you who live in the mission) and about the size of two rooms from front to back, butt interesting none the less. I went hoping to pickup a volume of Jorge Luis Borges' work, he being the best known author from Argentina, and one of the foremost writers of the twentieth century. I have never read him until now, but thought, when in Rome...

The bookstore - always a good idea to hang out in one on a rainy day - also had some wonderful English editions of books that I had never seen - all the Haruki Murakami books here have these very tasteful, arty black and white covers some with photography - and not the strange designs of all the editions I have on my shelf. Additionally, I picked up a copy of Graham Greene's the Quiet American with the most splendid cover. (yes, I know I didn't have to add any more weight to my bag, but well...I did - and what better way to do it!).

Anyway, after departing the bookstore and grabbing a quick bite (more of those yummy toasted ham and cheese sandwiches) I successfully crossed the world's widest street, Av 9 de Julio, which really does have 12 lanes to arrive at Borges last residence. I had hoped for something poetic written on the wall of a very old building - like the domicile of Camille Claudel in Paris, but instead there was just a simple brass plaque with his name and a short note on it, next to a ladies shoe store. Confronted with this juxtaposition of new and old, I continued on.

I wandered past many tourist attractions I plan to come back and visit next week - the Museum of Arms, the Plaza San Martin, Tango street performers - and reached my destination - Cafe Florida a known hangout of Borges and famous Argentine painter Perez Celis. I am sure this is not the cafe of Borges time - situated on the pedestrian thoroughfare of Florida Street - now a busy upscale walking mall of sorts with business people and lots of tourists. Whenever I picture a cafe or bar hangout of some author I always seem to think of dark, sticky floored hole in the wall places like Vesuvio in SF, but alas Cafe Florida is no such hovel. It is instead a slick, clean, well lit cafe with copper covered columns and many bustling shoppers and businessmen. That said, I can report, however, that the Argentinian cafe culture, much like that born in France so long ago seems to be alive and well, as 8 businessmen, only a couple in suits are having quite a serious discourse a few tables away. It is another moment when I wish I knew the Spanish so I might understand what they are talking about.

I sit reading Borges, from my new volume, and wonder if my science fiction reading friends (yes that's you Adrian, Liz and Deep among others ;) have read the bit about Tlon? I must admit that while he's a bit hard to read (and that's before the cerveza) with so many thoughts and ideas packed into few, and many big, words - I find his stories oddly captivating. The tidbit I like the most about him is that he apparently was more a reader and lover of books than he was a writer...not to mention the dedication of his first book of fiction, "Universal History of Inequity" is simply beautiful.

Perhaps I will read more tonight...I had hoped to find a good dj and go dancing somewhere for this my first Friday night in BA, but with my booty-shakin' friends off to holiday in Montevideo for the next two weeks I am left with no good suggestions for places to go, and frankly a little bit sore. I think the aerobics class may have been enough dancing for one day.