The air in Buenos Aires, contrary to what the city’s name may suggest, wasn’t fresh on a cloudy winter day in August. Cigarettes, trash, and a sweet perfume (that must have captivated half of the city with either great marketing or low price) reminded me of post-Soviet Georgia in the 90s. 

But…

As I was exploring the area around my hotel in San Nicolas, somewhere in La Boca, street performers with caked-up makeup were dancing tango to impress tourists, and El Caminito — with its bright reds, yellows, greens, and blues — reluctantly photo bombed every picture and stole the show.

While…   

Across the town, musicians with violins, and flutes, and cellos in tow were congregating around the staff entrance at the Teatro Colón, laughing and chatting in a pre-show excitement.

As…

Dead people at the Recoleta Cemetery were conspiring to spook the rock band playing Bon Jovi’s “It’s my life” just around the corner, disturbing peace at their final resting place.

That is when…

They were not disturbed by a woman singing a Spanish version of Frank Sinatra’s “My Way” at the fair nearby, where one bought knit sweaters and artsy earrings for a lot more than they were worth, but — handmade and unique.

And…

A tired teacher ordered a cup of submarino with churros at La Giralda on Avenue Corrientes, while a ninth-grader leafed through “How to grow marijuana” at the El Ateneo Grand Splendid just a few blocks away. 

All the while…

Indigenous people warmed up their tea by a tent in front of the Casa Rosada, with their protest signs resting on the ground. 

But…

I kept wondering about Eva — her stolen and assaulted body, the constant display of flowers at her grave in Recoleta, and her stylish shoes on display at the Evita Museum. 

Loved by one half of Argentina, and hated by the other, she was only 34 when she died. As she was dying of cancer, those who hated her, thanked the cancer. How cruel. 

Was she really a Nazi sympathizer? Her museum — a former halfway home for destitute women and children she had founded — didn’t say anything about that. 

Madonna did her a solid in “Evita” — it’s hard to look at the Casa Rosada balcony without thinking of Evita. Did she wear those same shoes when she addressed the crowd on October 17, 1951? 

Speaking of shoes… 

The owner of Flabella, a tango shoe store on Suipacha Street, looked annoyed when I walked in. She then turned the entire store upside down to find the right pair, or two, knowing that I may never take a single tango step. She let me dream, and after giving me a big hug, sent me off back into the streets of Buenos Aires, to dream a little more…