Big events

This was it: today was Adam's barmitzvah! In the morning, we had the service and the torah call-up; and in the afternoon, we had a colossal lunch in the shul hall. All of this was at the conservative synagogue that my cousins go to, just down the road from their house in Newton Center. Adam did a great job on stage: read his portion very confidently, and gave a solid and well-intentioned speech. And needless to say, the lunch was scrumdiddlyumptious.

It's been seven years since I was last in New York City. During my previous visit, in September 2000, I went up the famous twin towers of the World Trade Center, and I admired the then-fabulous view from the 110^th floor. Today, for visitors to New York — courtesy of a small but extremely cruel and misguided group of radical individuals — that is no longer possible. Instead, thousands of visitors every year make the "pilgrimage" to what is now known internationally as Ground Zero. Today, I became one of these pilgrims, as I returned to this most confronting and tragic of sites. And like everyone else, I went there to mourn, to show support, and to pray; but mainly, just to see what the world's most famous hole in the ground actually looks like, and what they're doing with it.

Well, what do you know? It's Columbus Day long weekend, this weekend in America! And to celebrate, here in New York, today they had a big parade all along Manhattan's famous central boulevard, 5^th Avenue. I'm not sure exactly what Columbus Day's for — and when I asked some locals what the story is behind it, they just said "I dunno, but we get Monday off" — so I guess it's a bit like our Queen's Birthday long weekend; it's just one of those holidays that you have, because as far as long weekends go, any excuse is a good excuse. Every country's gotta have at least one like that, right? Anyway, I just stumbled into the parade while I was wandering through Manhattan today, and I was pleasantly surprised with what I found.

You can't say you've been to Argentina (or to South America, for that matter), until you've seen some live fútbol here. Tonight, I went off with the Clan crew to fulfil this sacred Latin backpacker's duty: we visited the stadium of the famous Boca Juniors, and watched Boca kick the a$$es off of São Pablo (a Brazilian team). It was a pretty easy victory for Boca, who beat their Portugese-speaking rivals 2-1. And as for the fans, with whom we were packed in at one of the (standing-room only) spectator areas: they were absolutely wild. Even if you're not crazy about fútbol, you still gotta go and see a Boca's game — it's a sight in itself, being chucked into the middle of a crowd for whom fútbol es la vida, y la vida es fútbol.

Last night, we went to a crazy trance disco all night long. Tonight, the insane adventure that is "a weekend in BA" continued. No small fry clubs tonight: no sirree, tonight we hit Pacha, the biggest and the most famous of them all. Pacha is an enormous complex, a fair way north of the city centre (near the airport), that holds thousands of people on its two spacious dance floors every Saturday night, and that also regularly plays host to some of the disco world's biggest names, as weekly guest DJs. It was a big night, and an extremely fun one. Now, this is what Argentina is all about.

Sunset this evening marked the start of Rosh Hashanah, and also the start of the Jewish year of 5768. To begin the New Year's celebrations, I went to a communal dinner this evening, organised by Beit Jabad (known to us English-speakers as Chabad House) of Buenos Aires. The event was held in the function room of a big hotel in the middle of the city, and it was set up primarily for all the Jewish travellers who happened to be in town. No surprise, then, that the dinner consisted of the Rabbi, myself, 4 other English-speakers, and around 150 long-haired hippie Israelis.

I would like to take this opportunity to wish all the readers of my blog a Happy and a Sweet New Year. Shana tova, and gemar chatima tova. May you all be inscribed in the Book of Life, and may you all find somewhere to celebrate the New Year, as I have, no matter where you happen to be on this planet for it.

Tonight was, sadly, my last night in Bariloche, and my last night at the amazing hostel of Patanuk. But tonight was also time to celebrate: and we did so with an enormous dinner of roast beef. One of the Spanish-speaking new guests in the hostel cooked this sumptuous banquet, which almost all of us feasted on with delight. Juicy meat, crunchy roast veggies, and mountains of salad got polished to the bone. I sure ain't leaving this town hungry.

Tonight was Saturday night. I'm in Bariloche. And I've just finished doing seven days of intense snowboarding. I don't know what you would have done like at a time like this — but for me, the appropriate course of action seemed obvious enough. Party! Thus it was that, after dinner tonight, I went with the Patanuk crew down to Wilkenny's, an Irish pub and club in the middle of town, and one of the most popular places to rev up the night in Bariloche. Packed with overpriced imported beer, with all the usual music (well above full volume), and with many a fellow latin-dance-challenged gringo, it made for one hell of a night. ¡Viva Bariloche!

The sensational midnight parrilla that I had at Alberto's a few nights ago was simply too good — I had to get me some more! Tonight, a massive group of us had an evening exodus out of Patanuk, and so it was that I went to Bariloche's finest steak house one more time. Our table was piled high with platters of juicy beef cuts, with several pyramids of french fries, and with enough bottles of red wine to sink an aircraft carrier. Needless to say, this was a most satisfying night of gluttony in its most carnivorous form.

I woke up this morning, to find Otavalo completely transformed. Outside my hostel was a market. Down the street was more market. In fact, the entire town had been converted into one giant, sprawling, souvenir-riddled market! So the rumours were true: it is indeed a big deal, here in Otavalo on Saturday. And since this was my last full day in Ecuador, and in the Central Andes as a whole, it was time to embark on a serious splurge of souvenir and present shopping. I now have a very overstuffed bag, and a rather lean pocket.