Since arriving, I can probably count on one hand the number of Asian people I've seen on the streets of Buenos Aires. Not including the gaggle of Taiwanese tourists we saw at the cemetery the other day, most of our rare Chinese spottings have been at laundromats or supermarkets. How typical, I know... but I swear, every mom & pop grocery store and launderette in our barrio is Chinese-run. Is there some natural universal law that says these are the only two things Chinese immigrants can do? WTF? But anyhoo, there definitely ARE Chinese people here...and ya know, we're like ants... if you see one, there's gotta be more. C'mon, we gotta congregate somewhere, right?
Apparently, there is a Chinatown in Buenos Aires... we just have to find the ant hill. So, we head out to this mysterious Barrio Chino in search of our elusive Fellow Yellows. As it turns out, el tong yun fau is only a few metro stops away in a nice barrio called Belgrano. This is just proof positive that our yellow brethren are everywhere... cuz I can pretty much guarantee that there's no Argentinetown in China.
The funny thing is, Chinatown is right across the train tracks, but crossing over to it is like crossing the border to an alternate universe. Kinda like going from San Diego to TJ, but weirder. You know how in cities like SF or NYC, the closer you get to Chinatown, the more Chinese people or stuff you'll see? Well, here it's total culture shock once you pass the tracks, like entering a bubble. All of a sudden, there are Chinese shops, Chinese restaurants, smelly Chinese markets, and an old Chinese dude flinging snot from his nose. Ok, maybe not the last part, but you get what I mean. It's as if the Argentines erected a force field where you can go in, but you'll get zapped as soon as you try to come back out.
We figure as long as we got through the chink-shield, we'll have a looksy around... but the whole place feels kinda surreal to us. It looks just like any other Chinatown, complete with your standard dragon gate and random people who look like they could be your fobby relatives. But everything's in Spanish... and Chinese. Great, here's two languages I can't read. Plus, they seem to speak some kinda weird dialect here. Maybe it's just Mandarin with a Spanish accent... or Spanish with a Mandarin accent. Either way, we can't understand any of it. We thought that by coming here we'd feel a little less alienated, that we'd find comfort in being with our own kind. 
Quite the contrary. I really don't know what to make of this place, other than we've entered into some Twilight Zone. Picture this: imagine being in the middle of Chinatown at home. Now imagine that the only language you can understand is French. What's that make you? The only French-only speaking chink in Chinatown. That's us, here. Friggin Twilight Zone. I'm just hoping we don't get zapped by the chink-shield on the way out.Wait, lemme drink some herbal tea first.
And Now, A Word From the Wifey...
Numero 30 Stocktono
Everywhere we travel in the world, we find ourselves heading towards Chinatowns for a visit. I don't think it's a need to be with other Chinese people, but more of a curiosity of what other Chinese people around the world are like. Buenos Aires' Chinatown is pretty surreal. Everything is just like the rest of Buenos Aires in the barrio of Belgrano. Actually, it's a really nice residential area. But, once you cross a set of train tracks, BAM, there's ah moos shopping with little pink plastic bags. It's just like at home, but not. Things are all written in Chinese and Spanish (great, we can't read either). And shopowners speak Spanish with a Chinese accent. When people speak Chinese, we're not quite sure what they are speaking. It's not really Mandarin, and it's not Cantonese either. Maybe they have their own form of Chinese here.
They have a bunch of kitschy tourist shops with the same crap that the stores on Grant Avenue sell at home. Damn, do Chinese people push the same slippers, fake toys, and snap bombs things all over the world? Apparently, we do in Buenos Aires.Random Stuff:
For lunch, we have a 3-course meal at Morelia near our apartment: a broccoli puree as an appetizer, chocolate mousse for dessert, and a pasta called sorrentino which looks like an overgrown tortellini stuffed with mozzerella and ham. All for around $10. - In Belgrano, there's a beautiful round church called Igelsia la Redunda, where we enjoy our ice cream on the patio. Yum.
Salsa de Soja [Soy Sauce]
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