Tag Archives: city

The Cathedrals of Córdoba

Nuestra Señora de la Asunción, Córdoba, Argentina

Nuestra Señora de la Asunción, Córdoba, Argentina

It’s always lovely to visit historic cathedrals that are well cared for and very much in use to this day. This isn’t a comment on religious practices of modern times; rather, I am happy to see that such beautiful spaces are still useful places of worship and appreciated by a city.

Near Nuestra Señora de la Asunción, Córdoba, Argentina

That was certainly the case in Córdoba, where the city’s numerous breathtakingly beautiful cathedrals – it felt like there was one on nearly every corner – are still an active part of daily life in the city. Services are held in the evenings, with groups of families and friends gathering after mass to talk and laugh.

The Jesuit block, Córdoba, Argentina

We nearly missed the city’s centerpiece cathedral, Nuestra Señora de la Asunción. Don’t ask me how. I had it starred, highlighted, circled, etc. on my Google map and yet we somehow only managed to stumble across the cathedral and the central square of the city in which it resides on our last morning in Córdoba. This slight mishap on our part – nearly missing the main attraction of the city – can only be blamed on the fact that the city has so many other intriguing, distracting nooks and crannies that we didn’t really need to see it right away. This structure dates back to 1598, and is the oldest church in Córdoba.

Iglesia de los Capuchinos

The Jesuits left their touch upon the city, and this was especially apparent in the Jesuit Block near the centre of the city. The Montserrat School and buildings in this area belonging to the Universidad de Córdoba date back to the 17th century. We saw banners commemorating the university’s 400 years; it was founded some twenty or so years before Harvard in the U.S.

Iglesia de los Capuchinos

Façade of the Iglesia de los Capuchinos

I found myself partial to Iglesia de los Capuchinos, set in the heart of the city and was surrounded, on the day we visited, by vibrant purple-flowering trees, giving it something of a fairytale appearance. We only had a few moments to look in, before we (along with some worshipers) were ushered out as the cathedral closed for siesta time.

The mosaic dome of a cathedral

What I feel is undeniable is cities like Córdoba – and its beautiful, well-preserved architecture, city spaces and cathedrals – are such an integral and irrevocable reminder of the history of Argentina – and the Americas as a whole – and its experiences.

Interior of a cathedral, Córdoba

Exploring Córdoba, Argentina

Last week, my husband and I needed an escape. Quite simply, Chile is not our home and therefore like a good friend or relative that you have been spending far too much time with lately, sometimes you need to a bit of distance to recover.

Not ready to go back into the glorious madness that is Buenos Aires, and after learning that Peru – despite being close by – would require multiple flights, multiple days to acclimatize, tour guides and possibly elevation sickness, we opted for something simpler. We decided we wanted a few things: green trees, coffee (for me) and meat (for my husband), and some pretty things to look at. So, we hopped on a plane to Santiago, and after another quick 40 minute jaunt by air across the Andes mountains, we found ourselves amongst the glorious spring green landscape of Córdoba, Argentina – and in a city that met all of our needs for an escape.

Córdoba is quite literally in the middle of Argentina – and the middle of South America, for that matter. Nestled next to the foothills of the Sierra Chicas mountains, Córdoba is also a really, really old city. It was founded in 1573 and its first map dates back to 1577, and a lot of the architecture we saw in Córdoba had actually once appeared on that map. The Universidad nacional de Cordoba is the earliest university in Argentina, founded in 1613 by Jesuits, and I would also hazard to guess, probably one of the first universities in any of the Americas.

The remnants of this early settlement can still be seen in the downtown Jesuit block (Manzana Jesuítica), designated as a UNESCO World Heritage site. These Spanish colonial buildings are extremely well preserved and maintained and still are very functioning parts of the city landscape. They still house some university buildings, a secondary school, an order of nuns, and more. The residents of Córdoba use the cathedrals, stopping in to pray and to worship. It is truly a treasure when parts of a city that are so old are still so functional and integral to the everyday life of its residents.

Over the years, Córdoba has been an important center of the agricultural industry in Argentina (it is, after all, surrounded by tons of beautiful, rich soil), the meat industry, and later in the 20th century, it became a hub for the auto industry. Naturally, we sought out steak and were not disappointed. A restaurant called Alcorta served us a perfectly cooked steak with delicious potatoes con crema and roasted vegetables as a side. We enjoyed this all with a bottle of Argentina’s trademark red wine, Malbec, of course… and went back again another night for seconds.

We spent the better part of the four days we were there just walking. The city has a very pedestrian friendly center, with endless shops, plazas and malls. This expansive pedestrian area, with its historic Spanish colonial and trademark “French meets Italian meets Spanish colonial meets eclectic” Argentinean architecture, is also very functional – every day we saw tons of locals shopping and eating gelato in this area. The pedestrian area was almost completely shaded thanks to archways draped with soft green plants, and the sidewalks with marble accents gave it a lovely feel. This area though old and worn around its edges, is still charming, reasonably well maintained and very functional with tons of shops and very cute, affordable made-in-Argentina fashion boutiques and lovely, lovely leather shoes (that were actually too nice for me to buy – I have no where to wear them!). It was a pleasure to walk around there and people watch (I loved watching the women walking around in their impractical and highly fashionable footwear).

When we first arrived in Córdoba, it was a Sunday night so after checking into our hotel (with its well-maintained historical Spanish Colonial features and art gallery featuring local artists) we went to the city’s famous arts fair. There were endless booths selling very high quality art, glassware, jewelry, pottery and other decorations for the home. I loved the fused glass lamps and the handmade lanterns, although unfortunately those would have been impossible for me to get back in one piece in my luggage. I also loved all of the flowers, plants and handmade flower pots being sold (and bought by the locals), although again those would have been impractical to bring home. Instead, my husband bought me a beautiful pair of handmade glass earrings and I picked up a small mug and salt and pepper shakers made by a talented young potter. The eclectic atmosphere was really fun.

The rest of the days we walked, ate, had a coffee break in the afternoons, ate some more, walked some more… we loved ducking into all of the baroque cathedrals and exploring the endless little shopping malls tucked away in the downtown. I am saving some of my pictures of cathedrals for a future post. We also visited the town of Alta Gracia, just outside of Córdoba, and soaked in the lush green springtime countryside… which I am looking forward to sharing with you in next week’s post!

Overall, it is such a treat to find a city like Córdoba, a functional, “real” city – hardly a tourist in sight – and a place that truly makes use of and embraces its historical features in its day to day life. Needless to say, it was a very well appreciated escape from our everyday life.

La Belle Province: Montréal in July

I just spent a few weeks in Montreal and, as usual in summer, it was stunning. Clear, sunny, with just enough rain showers and thunderstorms passing through to keep the flowers and grass lush and green. Although it was hot and humid, Montreal mercifully escaped most of the brutal heatwave that much of the United States has been experiencing.

Since Montreal is my home base, I simply did not have the chance to play tourist in my own city and instead spent most of the time running errands and unpacking and re-packing for my next adventure. (By time you will read this, I’ll be in Nova Scotia for a few weeks, where I hope to have at least a little bit of time to be a tourist in this cool and rainy Atlantic province, which I have never visited before!)

Despite having very little down time, I still managed to appreciate summer in the city in my local neighbourhood. I visited the lovely Atwater market, where all of the summer fruits and vegetables are ahead of schedule thanks to a warm spring. (Last year, I missed peach, nectarine and blueberry season because I went to Chile right when they were starting to be available; last week, I could finally enjoy them all!)

I took advantage of the market’s outdoor food court and had a traditional French Canadian crepe, prepared in with sarrasin (buckwheat) flour. The delicate crepes are brushed with a thin layer of your choice of topping: I had fresh lemon juice with a sprinkle of sugar. For those who know me well and are wondering, yes, I have had plenty of coffee (and I have some of my favourite beans to accompany me to Nova Scotia).

After traveling literally thousands of miles, I always notice something new upon arriving back home. This time, I noticed what a Latin American influence there is in my very own neighbourhood. Montreal is first and foremost a French Canadian city. However, my neighbourhood was at one time (about 100 years or so ago) settled by mostly Italian, Irish, Scottish and English immigrants. But now, it reflects an increasingly diverse Canadian culture.

Latin America is certainly represented here. While I was gone, a coffee shop transformed into a mate cafe (complete with the same Argentinean brand mate I buy in Chile!), a studio specializing in Argentinean tango lessons, and empanadas are very easy to come by in pretty much every other cafe. At least I know I will not be “reverse homesick” when finally settling back here someday!

…then again, the French culture is definitely still here, too!

Pedestrian Artists

As I wander around Antofagasta on foot, I am usually trying to not fall into one of the massive holes in the sidewalks (yes, there are massive open utility “pits” randomly scattered along the sidewalks) or step in dog droppings (there are no requirements to clean up your dog’s excrement and if there were, it probably wouldn’t matter since the stray dogs leave plenty behind, too). So it’s surprising that I ever see anything in the city beyond the crumbly pavement or dirt underfoot. When I do, my eye often travels to the incredible graffiti.

No, I’m not being sarcastic. The graffiti here actually tends to be… well, pretty. Or at the very least, interesting. Interesting in the way a painting at the MOMA would be interesting and capture your attention for a good little while.

Detail of a mural I found near the beach last month

This type of artistic graffiti is referred to as street art. While North American cities are no stranger to urban graffiti-turned-”street art,” this form of expression is taken to a whole new level in Antofagasta. Artists create massive, beautiful, intriguing professional-looking murals out of a few cans of spray paint on a weekly basis. Often, the murals attempt to communicate some point of view. What that point of view is is not always clear.

When someone finally decides to paint over the unsolicited art, the artist will simply return to the spot or a new location with a new creative idea in mind and transform the otherwise plain walls into a canvas for all of the city’s pedestrians to see.

Now, I wouldn’t go as far as condoning this type of behaviour, because it does of course result in damaged property and require an expensive clean-up. On the other hand, a fortunate side effect of this phenomenon is that in a place where infrastructure is crumbling and not always properly maintained, it provides a diversion that can be quite visually pleasing and really becomes a unique part of a city’s individual personality.

Street art - sidewalk in Antofagasta, Chile

This type of art – created by the anonymous everyday artist –  is also perhaps the oldest known to mankind and the most omnipresent throughout history. After all, weren’t the spectacular drawings discovered in a prehistoric cave in France essentially the same form of expression?

The obsession with street art is definitely not unique to Antofagasta or Chile: I saw ample examples of street murals in São Paulo, Brasil and in in Buenos Aires a simple walk down a downtown sidewalk will present ample examples of this type of artistic expression. I recently discovered a fantastic English-language blog that sets out to chronicle street art in Buenos Aires, and I highly recommend it for a good introduction overview and some interesting examples of the art form. (Some of the murals that are recorded on this blog are officially condoned by the city — not all street art is subversive.)

Massive murals are not the only types of street art I encounter in Antofagasta or saw in Buenos Aires. Many street artists employ the aid of stencils. The stencils are beautiful representations of famous figures that demonstrate skillful use of negative space. I recently encountered a set of stenciled-on images on the sidewalks near the Parque Brasil in downtown Antofagasta.

Evita - source: BuenosAiresStreetArt.com

In Buenos Aires, I saw countless stenciled-on portrayals of famous Argentinean figures such as soccer players, Che, the historic tango singer Carlos Gardel, Evita and the current president Christina Kirchner. I even saw graffiti of John Lennon (not Argentine, of course, but somehow very popular there still).

Street art is certainly an intriguing form of communication. It transforms the aesthetic of a city space and gives a voice to those whose points of view may otherwise be lost in the crowds of a busy urban center.

I finally learn to prepare for an earthquake and tsunami

Last Friday at 11 am sharp, sirens blared through the city of Antofagasta along with a recorded message in Spanish, announcing that something was happening.

Luckily, the citizens of Antofagasta had all been pre-warned via billboards and local media that the “something” that the sirens announced was a city-wide earthquake and tsunami drill. The drill was a run-through of how the city would react if a massive earthquake had just taken place and tsunami were imminent.

This was reasonably important information for me to take note of, seeing as I live right on the coast. (Literally. The ocean is about 50 feet away. I can practically see the crabs scuttling along the sharp, jagged rocks.)

The city is on the ocean, but slopes uphill quite quickly

Having grown up in Michigan, an area prone to tornadoes but definitely not familiar with significant earthquakes, I have to admit that until recently I’ve been pretty ignorant as to what to do should such an event strike. I asked my friend’s husband once when I was visiting them in San Francisco what I should do with myself if I was caught inside when one hit. One of the best places to dash to, I remember him telling me, was something structurally sturdy, like in a doorway because of the door frame. Sounds simple, but I really had never thought about such a thing until I visited California.

Antofagasta was informed that the drill would take place on Friday, though were not told at what time so that there would be some element of surprise. At first I wasn’t thrilled about the prospect of hearing sirens go off in the middle of my Friday and having to scurry out of the relative safe haven of my apartment, but as soon as the sirens went off at 11 I was game and, journalistic instincts snapping into place, decided to go investigate the mock earthquake.

The general tsunami plan is to head uphill, so that’s exactly what I did. After the concierge showed me the back way out of our building (which dumps onto a part of the sidewalk that is a few feet higher above where the front door of the building would be), I headed up to what the city has marked as a “safe zone,” a major street cutting through the city.

Although I live approximately 3 feet above sea level, the terrain slopes uphill very quickly into high peaks only a handful of miles away from the coast. Thus, most of the city’s inhabitants would not be affected by the tsunami drill, as many people live reasonably high above sea level. However, as many businesses and offices are in the “tsunami zone,” it was important for a drill to be conducted in the middle of the day so the offices and schools could practice evacuation plans.

The first safe zone – at a level deemed to be high enough above the ocean – was only about 100 feet from my apartment.

Having successfully emerged into the safe zone about three minutes after leaving my building, I wandered around a bit to examine what else an earthquake/tsunami drill consists of. The drill appeared to be most relevant to city workers, who had stopped all traffic. With traffic stopped, I observed the city’s fire trucks and ambulances doing some dry runs (no pun intended) through the streets. Businesses closed and locked their doors and employees were sitting out along the sidewalk enjoying the warm sunshine.

Police stopped the traffic throughout the city

A couple of helicopters flew overhead, and a few passing pedestrians snapped some photos of the rare silence afforded by the stopped cars and busses. About 40 minutes later, it was over, and business resumed to normal rather quickly.

The whole ordeal seemed simple enough. Only the stray dogs who roam the city and sleep on the sidewalks were standing alert and nervous the entire time, wondering why all human activity had ceased for a while.

Although the overall drill didn’t seem like a big deal to me, I think it was effective for a few reasons. First, it happened. Just the fact that there was one got everyone in the city thinking about their own personal disaster plan. People at work and school could figure out where they needed to go if they were caught in an environment that is different than where they live.  Secondly, by stopping traffic and directing pedestrians into the “safe zones” in the city, emergency personnel were able to do some practice runs for their own action plans. It raises my confidence in the city and leads me to believe that they should be able to respond more effectively in the event of an emergency.

A stray dog standing next to a usually-busy street wonders where all of the traffic had gone

The drill also got me thinking about the U.S. and Canada. I’ve never heard of a city-wide tsunami drill being held in costal, earthquake-prone cities such as Los Angeles, San Francisco or Vancouver. Perhaps that’s something North America should consider. As we all were reminded recently by the tragedy in Japan, modern, first-world countries are not immune to such disasters. Even the earthquake that took place yesterday in the Northeast U.S. is a small reminder that American cities might want to consider similar drills as good precautions. (The women in the picture accompanying that article might have looked a bit less nervous if they had any idea what to do in such event!)

Read more about the Northern Chile tsunami drill.