An anniversary

Today marks the 30th anniversary of that fateful day when I departed, tearfully, from Shannon Airport, to begin my life in the New World.

There will be festivities later on today, that I can promise.

Don't be shy

Yes. We welcome comments on this blog. Yours especially. We are a long way from home. We crave attention and affection. Even if you can't provide those, we still welcome your comments.

If we do not receive them, ultimately we become sulky, morose, and petulant. All unattractive qualities in a blogger. So you know what to do to forestall this unpleasant eventuality.

Previously undiscovered family members

As we wandered through the flea market in San Telmo earlier this afternoon, rummaging through the stalls, and through the various assortments of old photographs, I found it tempting to imagine that some of the photos in question were of a hitherto undiscovered Argentine branch of the Giltinan clan, for instance this picture of my Argentine great-aunts and their friends, taken on the night of the debutantes' ball, some time in the 1930s:

Boris and Thor

Pablo y yo (redux)

How can you not love a book that contains the magnificent "Oda a las papas fritas"?

Ode to French fries

Maybe it's the stage of life at which I find myself, but the concrete imagery of the poems in this slim volume, odes to the cosas cotidianas de la vida, finds far more resonance with me than do the abstract profundities of e.g. "Veinte poemas del amor y una cancion desesperada".

There are odes to bread, to broken things, to wine, the onion, the tomato, to books, to copper, to the birds of Chile, roughly fifty odes in all. Despite, or perhaps because of, the concreteness of their imagery, these are poems that soar.

Decisions, decisions ....

The white? Or the red?

May have to try a little of each, for the patio picnic with Paddy, who arrived from DC this morning.

The Lugones family

My friend Paddy arrives tomorrow for a 10-day visit. Before I left we searched for a decent hotel not too far from my apartment and settled on Rooney's boutique hotel (warning: link leads to a page with slightly annoying music).

One of the hotel's claims to fame is that it is the former residence of 'well-known Argentine author Leopold Lugones'.

A cursory google search leads to the Wikipedia entry on Lugones, which makes it clear that he led a fairly tortured existence, culminating in his death by suicide after ingesting a draught of cyanide and whisky. (This took place at an entirely different hotel in another part of town).

A contributing factor may have been the realization that Leopold's only son, Polo Lugones, was a nasty piece of work indeed, whose main claim to fame was that, during his tenure as chief of police during the dictatorship of Uriburu in the 1930s, he introduced the electric cattle prod as a method of torture.

In an ironic twist of fate, one of the "beneficiaries" of Polo's innovation was his own daughter (i.e. Leopold's granddaughter) whose anarchist views caused her to run afoul of the military dictatorship during the 1970s, at whose hands she eventually perished.

A grim reminder, if any were needed, of Argentina's uniquely violent history.

Obelisco

In case anyone thinks I'm dry-blogging from 19th Street, here is a picture of B.A's most famous landmark:



Apparently there are stores that specialize in artistic ferrets:



Who knew?

El Profesor

This is Ciro (aka 'Xerxes'). One of the best Spanish teachers I've ever had, and certainly among the most charming.

For a selection of shots of Ciro in action, see:

El profesor

Classes with Ciro are another reason I love Buenos Aires so much.

OPERATION BAKED GOODS UPDATE

This entry in the OBG series presumably speaks for itself:



In fairness, I should say that Buenos Aires has much more to offer. We will return to our ongoing investigation in due course.

Lear Redux

Tonight I went to see a production of "Rey Lear" at one of the theatres on the Avenida Corrientes, the Buenos Aires equivalent of Broadway. It was an extraordinarily powerful performance (I'd say I understood about 90%, if only because of my previous familiarity with this particular play).

Interestingly, it caused me to revise my previous view of the play - its overall message actually seemed far more hopeful, not nearly as nihilistic as I had previously thought. I'd been arguing this point with a number of friends on goodreads over the past months, so I need to acknowledge for the record that I now believe that their view is a more correct interpretation of the play.

It still remains one of my all time favorite plays.

Griping about la gripe

Though the threat has yet to materialize, the topic of swine flu is never far from the headlines. There was a summit of American heads of state in Bariloche this past weekend, and the main headline that resulted had to do with the fact that one of the fearless leaders came down with the flu as a result. Though everyone should know better, the press here still insist on referring to it as 'la gripe porcina'.

At the school there is a proliferation of placards instructing us on how to wash our hands properly:





With or without gel, it's clearly a much more complicated sequence of operations than one had previously realized.

I regret to report that I have already been told by at least two people who should know better that they intend to avoid contracting the flu by eliminating pork consumption.

Sigh.

God, how I love Buenos Aires

You have no idea how much. Really.
It's such a joy to be here.

D.

Obligatory virtual tour

I am staying in an apartment located at the intersection of Avenida Callao and Calle Lavalle. An address which, when pronounced in the local accent, involves enough shushing and sputtering to make a speaker of "pure" Castilian shudder.

The apartment is very elegant, and the location couldn't be more central. What passes for 'art' in the kitchen might raise a few eyebrows stateside, however:



Feel free to take the complete virtual tour by clicking

here


Ongoing tally of Borges pieces covered in class so far this visit: 1.

Back on the pampas again!

Actually, that's not strictly true, as Buenos Aires is not exactly pampas country. But you will excuse a little poetic licence due to my exhilaration at being back in B.A.

Where the weather has been very weird thus far. But more of this anon.

Let's just say that I am overjoyed to be back, and that I probably learned more in today's classes than during my entire stay in Santiago.

For now, it's good night. I will keep you posted. I promise.

Two Advantages of Leaving Early

The ability to eat all the remaining rum raisin ice-cream in one sitting, and actually feel virtuous about it. Because nobody likes an ice-cream waster.

Lowered* gift expectations. Obviously, an early departure makes severe inroads into the already paltry amount of time available for souvenir shopping. So it's refrigerator magnets all around, and you should all be damned grateful that you get anything at all.

*: If you hadn't already lowered yours, consider this post your cue.

Leaving Santiago

Well, Santiago wasn't all beer and skittles. But there were some definite high points - the visit to Neruda's home in Valparaiso, the wonderful postal and pre-Columbian museums, the party at Brad's uncle Norman's home on Sunday, this week's awesome overnight trip with Norman and Gloria to Cachagua, where we stayed at their beach condo (where I lost my hot tub virginity in their fine jacuzzi):



lunch at the pelican-covered restaurant in Vina del Mar on Wednesday:



dinner at the fine 80's video restaurant, innumerable pisco sours, the hamster movie, Ice Age 3, a couple of fine movies that I saw at school, including this morning's fascinating documentary about the 'golpe de estado' on September 11th 1973, two excellent symphony concerts, and the prospect of a third one this evening (a program of tango music, which will put me in the mood for Argentina).

Though my time here was certainly not dull, it will be nice to be home again.

Change in Plans

I am cutting my time short here in Chile to take care of some things at home before continuing on to Buenos Aires at the end of the month. Accordingly, I will be leaving tomorrow evening and am scheduled to get back to San Francisco around midday on Sunday.

As I consider the two weeks I will be at home just an unscheduled leg of my original trip, I will continue to post from home during my time in San Francisco. To those in the Bay Area, I look forward to the chance to catch up next week or the week after.

To my awesome co-author

One of the undoubted highlights of my professional career as a biostatistician was the year I spent writing a monograph together with my good friend and colleague, Marie Davidian. Mind you, I doubt that either of us would have viewed it as a highlight at the time, but I think both of us are actually still quite proud of the result.

Marie went on to become one of the brightest stars in the statistical firmament. Quite fittingly, her brilliance was acknowledged earlier this month at the annual meeting of the Joint Statistical Societies in Washington DC. A gathering I was quite frankly happy to miss, though I would like to have seen her pick up her Snedecor Award:



Marie received the award, the top honour in biostatistics, 'for fundamental contributions to the theory and methodology of longitudinal data, especially nonlinear mixed effects models; for significant contributions to the analysis of clinical trials and observational studies; and for leadership as president of ENAR, as editor and as a member of the International Biometrics Society council.' The award, established in 1976, honors an individual who was instrumental in the development of statistical theory in biometry. The award is for a noteworthy publication in biometry within three years of the data of the award. Since 1991 the prize has been given every other year, in odd years, and consists of a plaque and a cash award.

But the woman's talents don't stop there. The immediately following weekend, there she was, with her husband Butch, knocking their socks off in New Orleans, in a frenzy of ballroom dancing excellence, of which this snippet (where she won first prize in her class in the Viennese waltz) is just one example:

Marie and Butch (Viennese waltz)

I've always felt enormously lucky to count Marie among my close friends. This post is dedicated to her, with all my love and admiration.

Photos galore - with actual people!

Yesterday, we were invited to Brad's uncle's. Where there was a terrific fiesta in full swing, in celebration of "el dia de los ninos".

Plenty of pictures here .