It's a cold Monday morning in Buenos Aires and the loud moans of four shofarot sound in front of the federal courthouse. "The ancient sound of the shofar used to rally the people to listen... Today it rallies the people to demand," explains Enrique Burbinsky to a small crowd of a few dozen.
As an Argentine expatriate, I am often asked what I miss the most about my country. The truth is, with telephone rates and e-mail being what they are, I don't have much of a chance to miss my friends and family. But I do miss my city: Buenos Aires. I miss the long after-dinner walks on the cobblestone streets of the Belgrano or Palermo neighborhoods, taking my kids for a treat in one of the hundreds of ice cream stores in town, getting together with friends at a cafe in the Recoleta, or occasionally splurging on a fancy meal at one of the many waterfront restaurants in Puerto Madero.