El Parque Japonés & and Argentine Geisha
Of late I have come to the conclusion that almost everything I do is clouded, reinforced, and saddened by something from my past. Even with a failing memory there is much more to forget or to retain from all those years behind me.
Last night (Saturday November 26 I went to a concert with my daughter Hilary). We went for the fact that a marvellous (I will write about this in another blog) pianist played the complete Beethoven Moonlight Sonata. I last heard it live when my mother played it before her death in 1973. Hilary was a bit over a year old so even if she does not remember it is somewhere buried in the confines of her baby memory. Listening to the performance was a lovely looking back. I have written about this here, here and here.
This photograph of the very Argentine Linda Lorenzo might seem odd if I mention that it is supposed to be a memory of a geisha I never saw in Buenos Aires. In Latin America usually the only living example of a Japanese person was a gardener called Matsumoto (!). I knew of one in Buenos Aires and in the late 50s in Mexico City.
In my youth my parents would take me to an amusement park next to the Retiro train station in downtown Buenos Aires. It was called El Parque Japonés. I could not go in any of the rides that went round as I immediately got motion sickness. But it was still exhilarating to visit. It brings me memories of being with my parents who must have been happy with me in tow.
So how could I possibly renew that nostalgia of my youth for a long gone Parque Japonés?
Easy! Turn Linda Lorenzo into a geisha and remember the lyrics of a very old tango that includes in them El Parque Japonés.
Garufa — Tango 1927
Música: Juan Antonio Collazo — Letra: Víctor Soliño / Roberto Fontaina
Del barrio La Mondiola sos el más rana
y te llaman Garufa por lo bacán;
tenés más pretensiones que bataclana
que hubiera hecho suceso con un gotán.
Durante la semana, meta laburo,
y el sábado a la noche sos un doctor:
te encajás las polainas y el cuello duro
y te venís p’al centro de rompedor.
Garufa,
¡pucha que sos divertido!
Garufa,
ya sos un caso perdido;
tu vieja
dice que sos un bandido
porque supo que te vieron
la otra noche
en el Parque Japonés.
Caés a la milonga en cuanto empieza
y sos para las minas el vareador;
sos capaz de bailarte la Marsellesa,
la Marcha a Garibaldi y El Trovador.
Con un café con leche y una ensaimada
rematás esa noche de bacanal
y al volver a tu casa, de madrugada,
decís: “Yo soy un rana fenomenal”.
Garufa Julio Sosa
