Buenos Aires, Argentina

This is La Bombonera, home of the famous Boca Juniors football club in Buenos Aires, Argentina. It’s the greatest stadium with the greatest fans on Earth.

(Photo by Christy Colon)

R.I.P. Mark Linkous, aka, Sparklehorse.

He made beautiful music.

Viva Sparklehorse, forever.

Earth people: You can stop wondering. There is a 60-foot Jesus with 36 mechanical movements after all.

The colossal Christ emerges Fridays through Sundays (and selected holidays), repeatedly and somewhat lethargically, from behind a large fake rock next to an airport in Buenos Aires, Argentina. This hourly miracle takes place at Parque Tierra Santa, a religious theme park that appeared in the midst of the dense South American metropolis nearly 10 years ago.

The action lasts eight minutes and is set to a shrill, thundering mash-up of landing planes and a recorded chorus of hallelujahs. After leisurely taking his full and upright position above the plaster mountain, the sizable saviour, with arms astonishlingly perpendicular, goes to work. As if sensing non-believers in the limited stadium seating below, Jesus begins twisting his massive messiah hands, shifting his elegantly robed frame, and giving his eyelids a slow but steady workout. Then he sinks down and out of view until the next show, 10 minutes before the hour.

Argentina is a predominantly Catholic nation, so, of course, scenes from the Bible play the dominant role at Tierra Santa (or, Holy Land). However, a few other religions do make cameo appearances. Gandhi shows up in a little hut around the corner from the Resurrection zone. Unlike the nimble Jesus giant, this little Mahatma has exactly zero mechanical movements. Hey, it looks like the peace-loving Hindi was not above putting one of his woolly sheep in “time out” against a wall. Well, that’s the only way they’ll learn!

Also in a nod to fair play, Tierra Santa installed a Wailing Wall next to the bathrooms by an Armenian restaurant, which, by the way, serves a decent hummus plate and all the liters of beer you need. Drinking is not discouraged here. Neither is going gluttonous on pizza, an act immortalized outside the Salem Pizzeria by one of the park’s many scattered and usually thematic statues. This one appears to be of an apostle eagerly treating himself to a cheesy tomato slice. I don’t recall this scene from the Bible.

Not far from the pizzeria is an homage to Christ’s awkward teen years. Here, the young Jesus appears to be on an uncomfortable walk with his “parents,” Joseph and Mary. I tend to think his quiet angst is less from being seen shirtless in public with his mom and dad and more because of the strange placement of his nipples. They are simply too close together.

Misplaced nipples aside, Parque Tierra Santa has a lot to offer humans of all faiths, not just Catholics and Christians. I went on Christmas Day, and even the consumerist legend Santa Claus was invited to attend. Well, he could have just been loitering, come to think of it. It was hard to tell. Maybe Santa was just trying to sneak into the Creation exhibit for a racy glimpse of Adam and Eve about to get it on in front of a sheep.

Despite Tierra Santa’s mild inclusiveness,  I am, of course, obliged to say “Sorry, Satanists,” because you aren’t represented here. Unless you claim that apple above, which really looks more like a tomato. Adam’s tomato. But I’m positive that, if taken to this exceedingly beige yet well-groomed park, even the most hardcore devotee of the Dark One would transform into a well-behaved good sport and find something to enjoy.

Parque Tierra Santa, Buenos Aires, Argentina: http://www.tierrasanta-bsas.com.ar/

(Photos by Kira Hannum)

La Paz Golf Club

Last week, I played what is considered to be our planet’s highest golf course. It’s called the La Paz Golf Club, and it’s laid out in a rocky, arid zone just south of La Paz, Bolivia.

The La Paz Golf Club claims to be 3,342 meters at its highest point and 3,277 at its lowest — or 10,964 and 10,0751 feet, respectively. The world’s next highest course is apparently somewhere in China.

El Driving Range

Founded in 1912, the privately run La Paz Golf Club mingles its nicely manicured fairways with the badlands of the Valle de la Luna, or Valley of the Moon, a little more than six miles south of the Bolivian capital’s center. And while it unveils mostly as an unusual variation on a typical desert course, there are times where the visual stakes are raised to a cosmic level.

This is never truer than at the craggy, wonderfully weird landscape of the par 3 Hoyo Lunar, or “Moon Hole.” Teeing off at the Moon Hole is like trying to traverse an oversized mouth of decaying Bolivian teeth.

El Hoyo Lunar, "The Moon Hole"

Of course, the “traversing” is not literal. It’s done with a little white ball, and almost exclusively by rich Bolivians or bemused tourists. Which makes this course, in some ways, even that more bizarre. Even without my clubs and golf shoe rentals, a round costs around 70 bucks. That may be normal in the U.S., but it’s a fortune by any normal Bolivian’s standards.

Despite the afternoon’s undeniable charm and novelty, at times it felt a little odd for me to take in a goofy pastime when only ten miles away, at an altitude a few thousand feet higher and with considerably less oxygen and warmth, lies La Paz’ poor sister city El Alto, one of the most destitute urban areas in all of Latin America. Not to get too heavy about the class comparison, but a sporting “adventure” is just a silly luxury measured on a scorecard at the La Paz Golf Club, while the daily adventures of the average struggling alteno is an entirely different thing altogether.

That said, it was still quite cool and strange to, like a privileged “sportsman,” be accompanied by a caddy for the first time in my life. Renting a caddy is required at the cart-less La Paz Golf Club. It turned out to be a great rule for me. It was the rainy season and the course was empty, so I was playing alone. I was lucky, then, to get stuck with Gonzalo, a hell of a caddy and a funny and interesting character.

Gonzalo comes from a family of nine. His dad is an avid golfer, and therefore so is he and his four brothers, making for quite an uncommon Bolivian brood. And while this full-time caddy isn’t the least bit rich, he actually has a driving range installed in his backyard, not far from work.

Gonzalo has worked at the La Paz Golf Club for eight years and says that he, with his free rounds on Mondays, has played the course over 200 times. He claims a nine handicap and three holes-in-one at the club.

It certainly helped to have a caddy, if not for the fact that the altitude tires you out faster at this regulation-length course, then just for the help he provides in choosing your club for each shot. The La Paz Golf Club is an exercise in double calculation: choosing your club like you normally would, then remembering to adjust for the home-run effect of the outrageous altitude. I overruled Gonzalo on the second hole when he urged me to use a 6-iron instead of a 5-iron, and, of course, I was wrong. I listened to him from there on out. He was surely used to that exchange, though, because he’d obviously caddied for extranjeros many times before. There can be no other explanation for him saying, in English, “Come on, ball … come on, ball!” whenever a shot of mine sailed near the green.

It was a bonus to walk the 6,879 yards of the famous La Paz Golf Club with someone who knew its every curve and break. It was a fair tradeoff, though. While Gonzalo told me which clubs to use, I helped him hypothetically compose a letter to Tiger Woods, in which he asked the golf great if his beautiful Norwegian ex-model wife had a sister. I also threw in a few free lessons in filthy English curse words, which he hilariously practiced over and over for all 18 holes.

Gonzalo, one of the world's highest caddies

La Paz Golf Club (in Spanish):

http://www.lapazgolfclub.com/web/index1.htm

Video of Bolivian Cholitas at La Paz Golf Club:

El Alto, Bolivia, the rough and radical city above the highland capital of La Paz, has its share of fascinations. One interesting feature is the array of “warning” dummies strung up on poles here and there, victims of a virtual lynching. But public lynchings are quite real in Bolivia, and El Alto has become an active center for them. The noosed warnings are directed at thieves, and they often come with a written message detailing what’s in store for them if they’re caught: beatings, burnings, and even death.

Meanwhile, another colorful aspect of El Alto, and much of Bolivia for that matter, is its never-ending parade of stray dogs stalking the streets. They often seem surprisingly well-fed. And they appear quite happy in and around the massive 16 de Julio market that takes place Thursdays and Sundays in El Alto, when the streets are pleasantly littered with leftovers and relatively free of a city dog’s mortal enemy, cars.

Bolivia’s president, Evo Morales, is up for re-election in December. Current polls say he’ll easily win, leaving him in power until 2015. But Morales’ campaign managers in the capital La Paz aren’t taking any chances. And so, last week, in front of the city’s main soccer stadium on game day, they unveiled a special something that no voter of any nation could possibly resist: the Inflatable Incumbent. The persuasive majesty of this swaying Evo balloon obviously clinches the election, so I’m just going to go ahead and call it off right now.

(...) (click photo for video)

San Telmo, Buenos Aires