A little R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Even though the Buenos Aires cemetery (aka the one that all the guidebooks say "you must visit") is in the Recoleta neighborhood, our first brush with the dead came Wednesday in the Chacarita Cemetary, since we were already just a few blocks away at the farmer's market, anyway.

Created in the early 1800s as a final resting place for the masses of victims from a yellow fever epidemic (mostly from the San Telmo and La Boca neighborhoods), this cemetery is less exclusive than Recoleta's, yet the best of Chacarita's tombs apparently rival Recoleta's best.

First, a description. Most tombs have above-ground space (on shelves) for two or three caskets, plus assorted containers for ashes, vases of flowers, photos, etc. The floor of the tomb (often covered with beautiful black and white or marble tile) generally has a large square opening, covered with an ornate metal grate. In most tombs (based on the ones I was able to see into), there is also a very narrow staircase spiraling down into the depths of their "basements." I counted as many as eight layers of below-ground shelving in one tomb, each shelf (16 in all) occupied.

This was our first experience with a cemetery of this type, and the first thought that came to mind was "city of the dead." Indeed, the streets and streets of ornate tombs look like a miniature of some of the streets of ornate homes we've come across. Like many neighborhoods, there was quite a variance in the level of upkeep.

Some of the tombs are lovingly tended. Outside, they are spotlessly clean. Inside, vases of fresh flowers sit beside framed photos and other mementos. Pressed linen cloths, embroidered or plain, are draped over the above-ground caskets. Small throw rugs soften the floor.

Others are covered with a film of cobwebs, skeletons of long-dried-up roses stuck in the ornate metal work on the doors, which at least are securely locked.

Sadly, the reason I could count caskets was because some of the tombs have been badly vandalized, their windows broken, doors unlocked and open, ornate plaster smashed into dust, metal grates long gone. Empty beer bottles, plastic cups and other trash lie scattered all around. Talk about lack of respect for the dead.

Beyond the tomb city lie its gardens: a huge area filled with trees, flowering shrubs and plant-covered plots. I love cemeteries, because although death does bring sadness, happy memories of loved ones never die. I can't wait to visit the Recoleta Cemetary next week (and not just because Evita is buried there).