Independencia!

The Museo de la Independencia in Tucuman advertises a nightly sound and light spectacular. We didn't know what it was, but we had a free night and decided to return. At the appointed hour, we arrived at the front doors. Groups of people had already begun collecting in front of the building. The night was cold, and people shuffled to keep warm.

The doors opened. We bought our tickets and were ushered into the first courtyard. We were told to stand along the edges. Yw and I looked up into the sky, wondering what the sound and light spectacular could be. I was expecting lasers, shapes drawn in the sky. I was surprised they might do something like that in the middle of the city, in an open courtyard surrounded by buildings. We waited expectantly.

A voice echoed through the courtyard. Excitement built. A light illuminated a small shrub. The voice changed.

I slowly came to realize that each bush and tree that would illuminate indicated a different person. The voices told the story of Argentina's independence. In Castellano. I started giggling. Yw stifled a laugh.

We moved from one courtyard to the other as Argentina progressed towards independence. At one point, after a heated meeting, bells were rung and cries of "Independencia!" and "Libertad!" spilled out from the speakers. Lights shone.

The spectacular ended in a courtyard flanked by bas reliefs of the independence effort. A flag flew in the center. A gate opened onto the street, and we all shuffled back into the modern world.

Last night we went to Nomad, a delicious Moroccan restaurant in the east village. Yw had suggested we try something new. I was skeptical at first (I've had disappointing experiences with Moroccan food in New York) but was impressed from the start. We began with a grilled octopus salad that was tender, the flavors perfectly balanced between the grilled seafood, fennel, and the sweet oranges added to the plate.

For entrees, we had the vegetarian cous cous and the chicken and olive tagine. The cous cous was served with a large boat of broth, which Yw added to the dish. The cous cous was delicious—fluffy and flavorful; my past experiences with cous cous in New York had been dry. The tagine came on a regular plate instead of in the tradition tagine. French fries were draped over the dish. The meat was tender, the broth delicious. The french fries were nearly perfect; Yw couldn't stop eating them.

We sat in a far corner of the attractive garden. As night fell, Moroccan lamps were lit around us. A lamp shone a red light on a plant behind Yw. I told her to be careful. It might just shout out "Independencia!" Posted by eku at August 15, 2007 9:43 AM