9 de julio |

Someone in Canada recently asked if I was OK because I hadn’t posted anything here recently. I’m fine, and the fact is that nothing much is happening due to being in lockdown for the past 107 days!

But today I really wanted to post because today is July 9, Argentine Independence Day. Before I say anything more, I want to share a lovely video with you of an Argentina that’s different from the one I see when I look out my window.

This is a promo video for the Province of Salta, high up in the Andes in the north of Argentina. I went there with Cecilia three years ago on an unforgettable trip. It was so different from Buenos Aires that I had to keep reminding myself I was still in Argentina!

In case you hadn’t realized, the music is the Argentine national anthem, sounding very different from the way it’s usually heard. Isn’t it lovely?

I’m reminded that last 9 de julio I had just come out of hospital after my 9-day stint with pneumonia. I went to the home of my friend Lola, where we met up with Sally, Cecilia and Ricardo after watching the military parade in Parque 3 de febrero. I remember my heart was full, as I mixed with a big crowd of people of all ages, waving my celeste y blanco — sky blue and white, as the flag is lovingly nicknamed.

That feeling is with me again now, even though this 9 de julio is very different. I love Argentina. I feel blessed to have been guided here.

In the words reserved for this day, Viva La Patria!

Today is 9 de julio, the day Argentina celebrates its independence from Spain in 1816. There were numerous events and celebrations across the city, and I did want to see at least one of them on this, my first Dia de Independencia. Several of us chose the military parade, and we agreed to meet up afterwards at the home of our friend Lola, who lives just a few yards away from the parade route.

In my wisdom, I decided a taxi would be my best way to get there, but as it turned out the streets were closed off for miles around and I had quite a hike. There’s a huge park in the area, and I ended up on the wrong side of it. I could see the street I wanted to get to, and as the crow flies it wasn’t far away. Unfortunately, I’m not a crow. I could hear the bands, so I knew I was close, but to get there I had to walk the full length of the park, cross over and walk back down. Ah well, I got good exercise for my first foray after the pneumonia!

Arriving at the meeting place, I found Cecilia had moved on because you couldn’t really see much there. But there’s a cafe on the corner, and a seat opened up just as I arrived, so I claimed it and didn’t move!

It’s true I couldn’t see much. OK, I couldn’t see anything. But it was a beautiful sunny day, not too cold, and for me it was fun just sitting in the sun people watching. I could hear the commentary and the music, and I saw the jets and the helicopters fly overhead.

As I sat there, drinking it all in, I found myself filled with emotion. I had received a little flag from a soldier, and as I waved it joined the happy shouts of Viva La Patria with the crowd, a little tear of happiness rolled down my cheek.

Somewhere else in the crowd, Cecilia had found a better spot, where she took some photos. South American military parades are very colourful, the uniforms quite distinctive.

Eventually, several of us found our way to Lola’s place and we had some wine and potluck nibblies. It was a lovely way to round off the celebration.

Viva La Patria!