La Bomba de Tiempo
My last night in Buenos Aires topped off an incredible week when I experienced one of the cities most exciting nightlife attractions. With a rather large group of stray Brazilians, Gringos, and Chileans, we caught a train to a different city borough to see the famed drummed show, La Bomba de Tiempo.
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Visiting the venue was an event within itself. After passing through the scrap metal gates, squeezed between two buildings, a stage poked out, looking like a large set of bleachers climbing towards the open night sky in the middle of the vacant lot. Wood stands, acting as bars served liters of cerveza in single plastic cups, hid under the bleacher stage at the far edge of the space. Perched atop the neighboring buildings' roofs rested gigantic art sculptures, ranging from creepy steal aliens to Christmas lights wrapped into the shape of a globe. The empty lot probably packed five hundred Argentine students and hippies tightly together, creating a warehouse-like, festival vibe.
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Not knowing exactly when the show was scheduled to start, after we just left the line at the bar, the air suddenly shook as the bass drums kicked off the show with a stinging, pulsating beat. Fifteen percussionists formed the most professional drum circle known to man. More than half of the instruments were congas varying in size and tone, accompanied by two bongos and a few shakers, wood blocks, and cow bells. The drummers rocked out above the waves of people for almost two hours. To top it off, this week's special guest played the electric mandolin, jamming with some mixture of Hendrix's and Clapton's electric blues/rock style. The best act of the night was easily the Afro-Brazilian bongo player, who clearly carried the group as a leader, followed by the bass drummer, whose mammoth sized mallets thumped away to the first bass drum solo I've ever heard in my life.
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When the noise roared to a halt and cheers overtook the crowd, I hoped the venue would stay open and transform into an after hours nightclub -- I could picture the drums being replaced by a DJ blasting electronica or hip hop and the night sky replaced by a light show hovering over the masses. Unfortunately, after the drummers' two encores, the place quickly emptied out and we were forced to leave. But, as is always true in Buenos Aires, one storied adventure quickly leads to another, and we hailed a cab with a driver who thought city streets were NASCAR tracks, and ventured on into the center of the city.
When the noise roared to a halt and cheers overtook the crowd, I hoped the venue would stay open and transform into an after hours nightclub -- I could picture the drums being replaced by a DJ blasting electronica or hip hop and the night sky replaced by a light show hovering over the masses. Unfortunately, after the drummers' two encores, the place quickly emptied out and we were forced to leave. But, as is always true in Buenos Aires, one storied adventure quickly leads to another, and we hailed a cab with a driver who thought city streets were NASCAR tracks, and ventured on into the center of the city.
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