High Line, Part 2

The second part of the High Line opened today. I was there at 7 AM, as I was on day one of the first part. I'm still a fan.

Here's the first new section as you walk north from 20th Street.


They've added a fair bit of new seating, and even managed to squeeze in a narrow lawn.



All along the way are new "spurs" which jut off the line, allowing for benches and side views.


There's a slightly raised "flyover bridge" connecting two sections (facing south here).


Another traffic viewing stage, similar to the one in the first section. This is the "26th St. Viewing Spur."



The terrain in the new section is much more industrial, so you get all sorts of great glimpses at urban architecture that was never meant to be seen, like ductwork and alleyways.


Toward the northern end (it stops at 30th St. now), the line takes a gentle curve, which is hugged by a new wooden bench. (Facing north first, then south.)



Little building you'd never have noticed before become highlighted (one wonders what the neighbors will think when the crowds arrive.)


The plants carry on the same wild garden theme of the first part, to excellent effect.








At 30th Street, you can see a branch of the rails as they were before the park was renovated. This may or may not be done up if the final extension to 34th gets approved.



And all along, you get the same slightly-elevated street views that allow you to enjoy being a voyeur from above, yet don't feel intrusive because you're not in anyone's face. (I suppose if I had a zoom lens, I might have been.)

Street Views

Just some street shots I've taken lately. My calendar list might end up seeing some of these again next year, but I'll try to keep some surprises.

Un Zhoopy

I went to a very interesting interview last night with a local author named Carlos Gamerro. I've read some of his short stories and am going to see a play based on his best-known novel, Las Islas (about the Falklands), this Saturday. I could follow the entire interview quite well, except for a word here and there. One of which was zhoopy. They kept referring to his latest novel, which has a longish title, something about a zhoopy. But what's a zhoopy? About three-quarters of the way through the interview, after they said the word for at least the seventh time, it finally dawned on me that they were saying "yuppie" with an Argentine accent. (Later checking proves my conclusion correct. The full title is Un yuppie en la columna de Che Guevara" or "A Yuppie in Che Guevara's Column," I assume the military meaning of column, though I could be wrong.)

Pelotudo Total

So I've just about finished another short story in Spanish, something I like to do when I'm down here and have the time. Through most of the story, the narrator is over-hearing a clutch of twenty-somethings. They mention Ricardo Fort, who is a local celebrity. His family founded the Felfort chocolate company and he's television personality, talentless and generally considered unbearabe, though also somehow popular. He was in a revue around the corner from me last October and there were always lines of people waiting to see him afterwards. Anyway, I had one of them say that he's a "pelotudo total" which, I hoped, was a way to say "total jerk." But I wasn't sure about using "totál" that way, so I decided to type "pelotudo totál" into Google Argentina and see if I got any hits. Eureka. Not only does it seem as if the phrase is used, the very first hit was for a Facebook page entitled: Ricardo Fort: Pelotudo Total!!!!! (exclamation points theirs, not mine.) So my hunch was doubly confirmed.


By the way, Martha, who edits my stories, said no, she wouldn't say it that way. But Max said it was fine, and I find the coincidence way too appealing, so I'm keeping it.

Local Moths

I've seen several of these attractive moths on my balcony. This one hung around long enough for me to snap a picture.

Plants in Fall

Arrived back here on Saturday to find all but one of my plants thriving quite nicely. I'm just going to post some pics here for now for anyone who cares. I don't have the older plant photos on my new laptop, so I can't do those fancy side-by-side comparisons. You'll have to take my word that the two tall plants have both gotten taller, and even the little cactus-y thing I put in the tile planter has almost doubled in height since I planted it last October.

Yesterday Here

Yesterday was an eventful day here.


First, it was the national census, which is done live. It was a national holiday and everyone had to stay home and wait for the census-taker to show up. There were 650,000 of them across the country. Each one was paid 250 pesos (about $60) for a day's work, which is not bad here.

My cencista showed up just after noon. I told her right away that I'm foreign, so didn't know if I should participate, but she said sure. It was a brief form, maybe 25 questions. The usual stuff (age, education, number of rooms, etc.) I did very well answering the questions, except for one that I didn't understand about what the roof of the building is made of (I couldn't answer that in New York in English either, actually.)

So, I've been counted in two censuses (censi?) this year, which is clearly over-representation, but pleases me nonetheless.

Afterwards, I walked to Martha's (most public transportation was shut down, as were all businesses.) The streets were mainly empty, except for the census-takers, with their white census bags and forms.



The census alone would have made for a memorable Wednesday, but earlier in the morning came the news that Nestor Kirchner had died of a massive heart attack. (Mickey's first response: "Did they count him in the census?" To which later in the day one station actually reported that yes, they did.) He was popular, moreso than Cristina, and was almost certainly going to run for president again in the next election. At just 60 years old, his death was a sad moment even for his opponents. I don't get much of Argentinian politics, but people seem to mainly agree that he was an energetic and devoted leader.

People mobilize very quickly here. As his body was being flown up from Patagonia to Buenos Aires, people were already starting to gather in front of the Casa Rosada. Several of my friends went there last night (I decided against going—crowds make me squirrelly, and political crowds that I don't understand even moreso.) There will be three days of national mourning.


During the night, these posters were printed and plastered all across the city. ("Forever Nestor. Be strong, Cristina.")


And then, some time after that, someone added those little paper tags you see all over the place here, in phone booths, on building walls, and on advertisements. They're little take-away flyers for call-girls. The more things change...