Argentina Culture

"Yerba mate raises morale, sustains the muscular system, augments strength and allows one to endure privations. In a word, it is a valiant aid." --French Society of Hygiene, 1909 Millions of aficionados are almost mystical in their devotion to a pungent South American beverage brewed from the leaves of a tree. Sipped alone, yerba mate offers solace. Shared among friends, it is a communal rite.

9:25 a.m. Here they come, as on nearly every Saturday morning, dozens of cars and vans driven by cultural need and pride, streaming through the gates of the USC campus, to unload their precious cargo--the students of La Escuela Argentina de Los Angeles. They're here to pursue an academic program conducted entirely in Spanish by this unusual nonprofit organization, which is both recognized by the state of California and by the Ministry of Education of the Republic of Argentina.

9:25 a.m. Here they come, as on nearly every Saturday morning, dozens of cars and vans driven by cultural need and pride, streaming through the gates of the USC campus, to unload their precious cargo--the students of La Escuela Argentina de Los Angeles. They're here to pursue an academic program conducted entirely in Spanish by this unusual nonprofit organization, which is both recognized by the state of California and by the Ministry of Education of the Republic of Argentina.

It's opening night at Club Social de Avellaneda, a new tango dance hall in a gritty Buenos Aires blue-collar neighborhood reminiscent of deep Brooklyn. Bronze busts of Juan and Evita Peron grace the entrance of the building. Inside, a giant mural above the dance floor depicts local stevedores, meatpackers and factory workers of a half-century ago.

At the unprecedented age of 19, Julio Bocca became a principal dancer with American Ballet Theatre in 1986, the youngest principal ABT ever had. How did the Argentine youngster do it? Winning the gold medal at the Fifth International Ballet Competition in Moscow in 1985 certainly helped. But it was more the result of Bocca's longtime single-minded dedication to establishing a dance career.

"There is high enjoyment in the independence of the gaucho life--to be able at any moment to pull up your horse and say, 'Here we will pass the night."' --Charles Darwin, 1833 A man from the city offered to buy Ricardo Villega's gaucho belt, knife, spurs and bridle a while back for $2,000, nearly twice what Villega earns in a year. He said no. In so many words, Villega explained that his memories and his heritage have no price.

Gen. Juan Domingo Peron--three times elected president of Argentina, patriarch of a historic Latin American political movement, husband of the beloved and ubiquitous Evita--does not rest in peace. In fact, there is little peace in Argentine cemeteries. Politicians, lawyers, pathologists, soldiers and grave robbers are forever disturbing the corpses of the Perons and other famous dead people.

It's opening night at Club Social de Avellaneda, a new tango dance hall in a gritty Buenos Aires blue-collar neighborhood reminiscent of deep Brooklyn. Bronze busts of Juan and Evita Peron grace the entrance of the building. Inside, a giant mural above the dance floor depicts local stevedores, meatpackers and factory workers of a half-century ago.

Recalling the magic of this city in 1962, Argentine author Tomas Eloy Martinez wrote recently about an evening when he found himself on a balcony in illustrious company: novelists Carlos Fuentes of Mexico, Augusto Roa Bastos of Paraguay and Ernesto Sabato of Argentina.

The Tibet Cafe appears like a mirage on the mountain road. It is a long and lonely road that climbs into the Argentine Andes past red rock formations, an abandoned cliff-side railway, sprawling shrub lands. Uspallata, a wind-swept outpost near the Chilean border, offers little to distinguish it from any other half-asleep South American town. Except the Tibet Cafe.

The Tibet Cafe appears like a mirage on the mountain road. It is a long and lonely road that climbs into the Argentine Andes past red rock formations, an abandoned cliff-side railway, sprawling shrub lands. Uspallata, a wind-swept outpost near the Chilean border, offers little to distinguish it from any other half-asleep South American town. Except the Tibet Cafe.

Although the streets of this city echo Madrid and Paris, they lack monumental cathedrals and museums. Instead, Buenos Aires has cafes. The quantity and quality of cafes here rival any city in the world. The biggest and best are turn-of-the-century palaces with stained-glass windows, rows of chandeliers and solemn waiters who set out the espresso and croissants as if they were dispensing Holy Communion. Cafes are the cathedrals and museums of Argentina.

Gen. Juan Domingo Peron--three times elected president of Argentina, patriarch of a historic Latin American political movement, husband of the beloved and ubiquitous Evita--does not rest in peace. In fact, there is little peace in Argentine cemeteries. Politicians, lawyers, pathologists, soldiers and grave robbers are forever disturbing the corpses of the Perons and other famous dead people.

Recalling the magic of this city in 1962, Argentine author Tomas Eloy Martinez wrote recently about an evening when he found himself on a balcony in illustrious company: novelists Carlos Fuentes of Mexico, Augusto Roa Bastos of Paraguay and Ernesto Sabato of Argentina.

Recalling the magic of this city in 1962, Argentine author Tomas Eloy Martinez wrote recently about an evening when he found himself on a balcony in illustrious company: novelists Carlos Fuentes of Mexico, Augusto Roa Bastos of Paraguay and Ernesto Sabato of Argentina.

You know you are in the right place on this quiet street in Van Nuys. There's a red Corvette parked outside a small, white restaurant. The license plate reads, "Tango L.A." People drive for miles to listen to this pulsing, throbbing beat of the tango. They travel from as far as Westlake and Riverside to participate in their own steamy pas de deux on the dance floor. Tango is the corazon of Buenos Aires and lives in the streets, salons and souls of its people.

You know you are in the right place on this quiet street in Van Nuys. There's a red Corvette parked outside a small, white restaurant. The license plate reads, "Tango L.A." People drive for miles to listen to this pulsing, throbbing beat of the tango. They travel from as far as Westlake and Riverside to participate in their own steamy pas de deux on the dance floor. Tango is the corazon of Buenos Aires and lives in the streets, salons and souls of its people.

Carlos Monzon was more than a great middleweight champion. He was a national hero, he became a millionaire, he starred in movies and he usually had a beautiful woman on his arm. But along the way to national adulation, he also showed himself unable to control the seething aggression that earned him the championship and 14 world title defenses over seven years until he retired, still champion, in 1977.

At the unprecedented age of 19, Julio Bocca became a principal dancer with American Ballet Theatre in 1986, the youngest principal ABT ever had. How did the Argentine youngster do it? Winning the gold medal at the Fifth International Ballet Competition in Moscow in 1985 certainly helped. But it was more the result of Bocca's longtime single-minded dedication to establishing a dance career.

"There is high enjoyment in the independence of the gaucho life--to be able at any moment to pull up your horse and say, 'Here we will pass the night."' --Charles Darwin, 1833 A man from the city offered to buy Ricardo Villega's gaucho belt, knife, spurs and bridle a while back for $2,000, nearly twice what Villega earns in a year. He said no. In so many words, Villega explained that his memories and his heritage have no price.