Explorations in Montevideo
Yesterday was the first day of a gargantuan restructuring of Montevidean bus lines, and I was therefore doomed, by the serendipitous cloud of misfortune which shrewishly follows me around, to go downtown. Any 2-bit travel guide you pick up will tell you that Montevideo has "European airs" to it, but don't ask me what that's supposed to mean. Now, a 2-bit travel guide geared towards Americans will omit any mention of Europe, and will straightforwardly tell you that the city is old. Of course, it's 600 years younger than anything European, but it's a well known fact that structural decay occurs much more rapidly in developing countries not favoured by the IDB (whether facetiously or not).
So, after bureaucratic disputes had been settled in the back roads of the Old City, Andres and I made our ways (made our way?) to the Plaza Independencia, where I realized that I had never seen the remains of Artigas.
José Gervasio Artigas, national hero and ubiquitous eponym, won the right to international fame and immortality by running around the coast in the early 19th century, repelling all manners of rude colonial invaders. Uruguay, or select parts thereof, has been British, Spanish, Portuguese, Brazilian, Argentine and, for all I know, Inuit.
The British legacy is interesting, as one can walk around downtown and run into buildings labeled (sic) "The Montevideo Gas Company". This one in particular was pleasantly restored, and is currently the site for the nationally owned gas company, who, even though it has no relation to the now defunct British Montevideo Gas Company, decided to retain the original facade and its wording. Kudos to them.
Back to the remains -- Artigas is "buried" underneath the gigantic statue built in his likeness. His ashes (or remains, I'm not sure what they are, and my only source of information is currently sleeping) reside in a large urn, guarded by two ceremonially dressed guards who do their best to stay awake and immobile at all times. Supposedly it's tradition, much like in other so-guarded places, to try to distract them from their solemn duties. I was tempted to indulge, but at least the Buckingham palace guards get to stand outside and watch Swedish tourists go by and what not -- these guys stand in a purposefully ill-lit mausoleum for who-knows how long each day. I felt bad and made it a point to stay away. Plus, they had swords, and all I was armed with was a bus pass.
You're not supposed to take pictures down there, but I guess the Google Image pirates are beyond such restrictions:
So, after bureaucratic disputes had been settled in the back roads of the Old City, Andres and I made our ways (made our way?) to the Plaza Independencia, where I realized that I had never seen the remains of Artigas.
José Gervasio Artigas, national hero and ubiquitous eponym, won the right to international fame and immortality by running around the coast in the early 19th century, repelling all manners of rude colonial invaders. Uruguay, or select parts thereof, has been British, Spanish, Portuguese, Brazilian, Argentine and, for all I know, Inuit.
The British legacy is interesting, as one can walk around downtown and run into buildings labeled (sic) "The Montevideo Gas Company". This one in particular was pleasantly restored, and is currently the site for the nationally owned gas company, who, even though it has no relation to the now defunct British Montevideo Gas Company, decided to retain the original facade and its wording. Kudos to them.
Back to the remains -- Artigas is "buried" underneath the gigantic statue built in his likeness. His ashes (or remains, I'm not sure what they are, and my only source of information is currently sleeping) reside in a large urn, guarded by two ceremonially dressed guards who do their best to stay awake and immobile at all times. Supposedly it's tradition, much like in other so-guarded places, to try to distract them from their solemn duties. I was tempted to indulge, but at least the Buckingham palace guards get to stand outside and watch Swedish tourists go by and what not -- these guys stand in a purposefully ill-lit mausoleum for who-knows how long each day. I felt bad and made it a point to stay away. Plus, they had swords, and all I was armed with was a bus pass.
You're not supposed to take pictures down there, but I guess the Google Image pirates are beyond such restrictions: