MENDOZA PART ONE September 7, 2022

True to his saintly name as  a rescuer of distressed virgins and robbers, Nicholas, the manager of Xumec Hotel  in Mendoza  heard our cry of distress via “booking.com”  and sprang to our aid.  He assigned us a bigger, more comfortable room for the same price.  More importantly  he supplied us with a map showing  us where the best restaurants were within walking distance. Suddenly the move to Argentina didn’t feel so bad.

 

Unpacking and packing is a serious business. You are old(er) … you don’t think you are … but one of the major problems at  “your” age is to remember where you put s_it and how important it was, and can you recover if you can’t find it?  Is there a crisis brewing because you have lost something?  So, you develop a system where you put your stuff where you think you’ll remember you put it and it gets confusing and that makes you angry. So, you have a mental checklist. Where are the passports? Where are the computer leads? Where’s the money? Where’s the key for Swiss Suites? How many Argentinian pesos to the dollar? I can’t count in those numbers… too many zeros.  How many to the Colombian peso? It’s far too much for old brains to cope with, well my old brain doesn’t want to so the fuses blow, and I don’t know where the replacement fuses are. So back to the story…

 

Our reason to come to Mendoza was to explore one of the great wine growing areas of the world and to experience a little bit of  Argentina. We are not here for long so the best we can do is scratch the surface. So far, the scratching  has been well worth it. This is an older society, European in many ways. After the 1861 earthquake when most of the old colonial  Mendoza was destroyed, the town rebuilt itself with wide tree lined  boulevards and parks a` la gaie Paris. Like Phoenix, it used the irrigation channels first constructed by the indigenous population for agriculture to provide water. The clear water coming down from the Andes combined with the bright sunshine and high elevations were the keys to its economic development and successful wine production. From the cheapest bottle in the supermarket to the most expensive in the Duty Free, disappointment with the quality of Argentinian wine is not an option.

 

Mendoza is a place where citizens like to sit outside, enjoy the weather, sit on  the sidewalk, talk, have a coffee. They love their wine and beer. Carrefour, our little local supermarket, sells over twenty- two  varieties of local and foreign  beer (I counted) and one  type of paper handkerchiefs. Clothing shops and tourist shops have their own lines of Malbec. It’s a passion. That and beef. They use different names for the cuts. Ribeyes are what we call filets. If you love filet steak, come to Argentina. Here it is prepared as  an art form, and they have delightful Cabernets and Chardonnays to entertain every palette for every occasion. The wine is on the streets and there’s no health warning.  Doesn’t do much for the waistline but you sleep well… or you snore well or whatever… a short life and merry one.

 

By 1913, Argentina was the world’s 10th wealthiest state per capita. Its economy has gone up and down like a yo-yo since then. Presently I am not sure where on the yo-yo trajectory the country is. The exchange rates are confusing. There’s the “blue” rate, the best, then there’s the bank rate, the worst, so for newbies like us it is difficult to negotiate. Luckily, we had Nicolas, who knew the ropes and was an honest and true friend to us.

 

Not everything  in the Argentinian rose garden, is quite so wholesome. We visited the Area Fundacional , the original administrative, economic  and religious center of  Mendoza before the earthquake of 1861. Afterwards, the city was rebuilt in a safer area while the site of the old city was widely excavated and preserved. There was a series of exhibitions of what life was like before 1900.

We had a delightful young man as a guide. He had a goatee, and  his English was a great deal better than my Spanish. He sounded  and looked as if he had just come from  the deck of a Spanish galleon in 1600.  I asked him if slaves had been used in the city’s construction in earlier years. He explained that through a process of intermarriage Black people had been absorbed into the general  population.  The idea didn’t sound right to me, but our conversation was limited by the language barrier.  It bothered me enough to do a little digging back at the hotel. 

 

 Research suggests that over 200,000 slaves were imported into Argentina before 1830 but today , on the street, Black faces are rare. There had to be other answers. One Black Argentinian academic said that when he met fellow Argentinians, they invariably asked him what country he came from and were genuinely surprised to learn that he was born and  raised an Argentinian.

 

 Mendoza  is a gracious city resembling a well- dressed older Parisian lady. There are car parks where buildings have been demolished. Other older buildings look a little beaten up while some look brand new.  It resonates history and a collective past. The sidewalks are uneven and in places cracked perhaps because of the frequent earthquakes. This is winter and the plane trees lining the roads  are just beginning to bud. There’s a lot of traffic but crossing roads does not feel life threatening. Our first trip was to Independence Park… a shady area with fountains, an underground museum, a children’s playground, and pedestrians out for a stroll enjoying the winter sunshine.

The National Theatre was built in the 1920’s in the full blown Palladian style, similar to European  opera houses.

 

Thanks to Nicholas our initial doubts dissipated, and we geared up to explore and to savor Argentinian life. Hotel Xumac turned into a little club house. Breakfast was brought to our room at 8 each morning. When it became too noisy because of weekend celebrations in the street, Nicholas moved us (again) to a quieter room. I discovered the indoor  market, we found a great Italian Restaurante and became Argentinian-like, living in  the here and now and not worrying about what might or might not happen.  Oh, and the wine…

 

            Marney Here…

Of course there was a bit of shopping since it was cold (see sweaters in both photos).  We even bought a couple of suede coats (Argentina is known for its wool and leather) and I could have spent days in the leather stores (the boots and purses called me) but alas, already the suitcases were full.  In fact I had to buy a small on board roller bag to accommodate the purchases.  And oh the wine…