Saturday, June 27, 2009

In the News


Just thought that I should mention that while South Carolina was looking for its governor he was here, not just in Buenos Aires, but in our neighborhood- Palermo! We're relevant!

Friday, June 26, 2009

Colonial Living

My grandmother was born in India in the early 1900s and enjoyed all the perks and privileges of a daughter of a colonial general. I've always imagined her life like that of the little girl in "A Little Princess" before she (the character) became an orphan, and as far as I've heard, it's a pretty accurate comparison. I've always wondered how wonderful it must've been to live in an exotic country with servants to wait on you, to lord over a manor, or better yet, be the child of the lord of the manor.
No more anymore. This era of ours is not an era of colonialism, and anything that faintly whiffs at colonial overlord makes me squeamish and overly apologetic for being born to upper middle class parents.
Our very comfortable apartment here in Buenos Aires comes with a pool in the back, a portero who washes the floors of the building (including the sidewalk) everyday, heated floors, American appliances and two cleaners who come in once a week, Lidia and Daniela. We have been living more comfortably than most Argentines and for this I feel a pang of guilt, especially when the cleaners come in to clean up after us. Neither of them speak a word of English and in my rudimentary Spanish I've pieced together that Lidia, who is in her 40s, is from Bolivia, lives here on her own and sends money back to her family dutifully. Daniela is a mystery to me. She is probably in her 20s, helps Lidia out ever since she injured her thumb, shows up here sometimes two hours before Lidia does and watches TV on our bed until she does. When she's not watching TV they're blasting Argentine pop radio stations which must irritate the upstairs neighbor.
I certainly appreciate that we have cleaners who do a good job of cleaning our apartment but I can't stand to be here when they are because it makes me feel like the colonialist, living better than any of them may ever, exploring the world while they clean houses for (what must seem like to them) fat-cat Americans. I feel like if I'm not there then it's less of an affront to them. So as soon as Daniela shows up I grab my gym bag or work and head out for a few hours.
Yesterday she caught me right before I was out the door and asked me what I wanted to do with these clothes that were on the floor. I always clean up before they come around but I missed this pile of clothes because they were hiding on the other side of the bed. I picked them up and put them in a pile on the bed and made large arm motions over them trying to communicate to her "Don't worry about this, just leave them here, I'll tidy them up when I get back". And with that I left.
Two and a half hours later I returned and was dismayed to see that Daniela was still there and that the only thing cleaned was the bathroom. I wasn't upset because she'd been watching TV the whole time, but that I had exhausted all my tasks to occupy me while I kept out of sight. Worst of all, I noticed that she had folded every single article of clothing in the pile and put them neatly away in our drawers. I was suddenly twisted with guilt for not being more clear because she must've thought I actually told her to do that. Feeling a little shame-faced and with no other excuse to leave the apartment, I just picked up my book and hid on the balcony.
Thirty minutes later Lidia came in and then they really got down to work. Lidia came out with a bucket of water and a mop to clean up the balcony floor and asked me to move out of her way and I blushed with embarrassment for feeling like I've affronted them again with my presence. I hid in the bedroom and tried too hard to ignore Daniela when she came in to mop up the floor in there.
I think Lidia likes me but I'm not too thrilled about this. Last time I got caught in the apartment with her she started asking me how much house cleaners make in America and it went quickly down hill from there. Having some foresight I purposely gave her a conservative figure at $10 an hour and she almost fell to the floor in disbelief. "American?!" she asked with eyes wide in disbelief, I nodded my head slowly and she went on to say how rich she would be in Bolivia if she was making 10U$ an hour here. She could be retired already!
A little later on she asked me where Graham and I were going after this and I told her the itinerary of our trip, but she didn't mean that, she wanted to know where we'd be living. With a little bit of hesitation I told her that I planned on going to London for awhile and Graham would probably be going back to New York. New York City?! she asked with eyes wide again and again I slowly nodded my head yes. I have to give her credit though, she didn't waste anytime, she started making plans to move to New York City in the fall and Graham and I would help set her up, yes, sounds good? Partly because I couldn't believe my ears and partly because I felt excruciatingly awkward, I started pretending I couldn't understand a word she was saying, 'like a true colonialist' I thought to myself with sheepish shame. She lapsed back into talking about how alone she is here and how much she misses her family and I wanted to jump out the window when I saw tears well up in her eyes. Instead I just nodded my head, yes. She's a spry thing though and quickly laughed it off and went back to cleaning, leaving me home free for the moment.
When she caught up with me yesterday there was our regular awkward banter, You teach me English, yes? Yes you teach me English and I teach you Spanish. To which I have to respond that I work all week and my only free day is Sunday (which is true) and I just don't have time for another student. She laughs and shakes her head every time I say this.
She saw my bike out on the balcony when she came to out clean and asked me if I'd be selling it when I left. Yes, I would be, and she asked how much I bought it for, and I told her 450 pesos. I'm not sure if she made an offer but she told me to sell it to her, which again sent me looking for an escape route because I had intended on selling it for 350 and doubt she wouldn't have balked at that price. I said I had to think about it and that seemed to appease her for the time being.
She knows when we're moving out of this apartment and I'm a little worried at what she may ask from us before we leave. That may seem a little pretentious but I'm certain it's a valid concern. The last time I was in a spot like this was after I'd gotten back from a safari in Kenya with an old boyfriend. We were at home, getting ready to go out when a ridiculously long number came up on his caller id. Our guide from the safari was calling and asked Matteo for a large sum of euros for a loan because his wife had been taken into hospital and in all likelihood would die there without the money needed for medicine. We were with this man for three days and neither of us had ever heard him mention a wife so Matteo told him no, to which the guide responded by begging him not to tell his boss that he had called us.
It was a ruse, clearly, but I still felt cold and callous, and more so when I got angry with him for putting us in that kind of spot. We gave him and his boss a great tip when we left, so what the hell? This is the situation I'm worried about entering into on Lidia's last day with us because we won't have the luxury of having thousands of miles between us, I'm worried she's going to watch TV until I run out of things to do in the cafe and have to come home.

Hoof

Just in case you didn't believe me when I mentioned it before, there it is.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Politicos on Parade

Congressional elections are coming up this Sunday and for the past two weeks the city has been literally littered with political campaigning. I guess we're not so heavy into campaigning through posters in the US or the UK because those are what struck me the most about these past two weeks. It must be because I'm not used to them, but I find them utterly hilarious and sometimes ridiculous. Because of the heavy poster campaigning that's been going on I've gotten very interested in this election and have grilled some of my students on the particulars.
For instance, did you know that congressional elections in Buenos Aires are supposed to be held in September, but this year the government has moved them up to June without a clear explanation. Speculation states that it's because Argentina has been relatively untouched by the global economic crisis and that the incumbent government wants to take advantage of this fact so that they can get voted back in while the people are still thinking of them favorably. Which begs the question: What does the government suppose (or more likely know) is going to happen between now and September that will likely change the way the populace views them? Fishy stuff, but this is Argentina so no one seems too upset by the government's subversive tactics.
Secondly, it's illegal not to vote in Argentina for everyone over the age of 18. Although no one ever has, you could be thrown in jail for years if punished to the full extent of the law. However, the typical punishment is just a ticket (boring). The only people who are exempt from voting are those over the age of 80, those who are seriously ill or mentally handicapped, and anyone else who lives more than 500 kilometers from the nearest polling station in a major city; bad luck to everyone else who lives 499 kilometers away.
Thirdly, to ensure that everyone makes the right decision, the government forbids all campaigning to continue once the elections are no more than three days away. This allows the voters to really think about the content of the politician's ideas and their message, not just how attractive or unattractive he or she may be. And to make sure you don't get drunk the night before and sleep through the elections or drunkenly tick the wrong box, restaurants and stores are not allowed to sell or distribute alcohol Saturday night starting at midnight. Clearly the government really, really wants you to make a well-informed and clear-headed decision since you're being forced to anyway.
Although I appreciate the freedom of choice you're granted in the US and UK not to vote I've decided to hold my own elections based on the campaign posters (which is consequently how I used to vote for student government in high school).

MOST AMBITIOUS:
For obvious reasons; because his name is Prat Gay! Although 99% of Argentines probably have no idea or care about how ridiculous his name is, I still think 'Good on him for not being crippled by the cruelty of his parents'. However, he is a bit of a creeper, he's the one with both hands on Gil's shoulders. He's an ambitious creeper.

MOST DIABOLICAL:
Clearly this man does not have an image consultant, or at least someone close enough to him to tell him that by cocking his chin down he's making his balding forehead appear bigger and projecting a menacing look. I included the party group shot because I particularly like how everyone else is linking arms and it appears that he has just busted into the middle of the chain and stuck his arms through the other two's. I bet the rest of the group don't even like him.

MOST CROTCHETY-LOOKING:
Pino is a famous Argentine director, and I don't know what his deal or his party is about but I love love love that in his solo shots he couldn't break a smile! His wrinkled forehead, bushy, arched eyebrows and thin mouth all communicate to me that this is a man who doesn't like his tea too hot, his meat too chewy, or his women too chatty. I included his group shot because he has a horrendous smile that kind of makes him look like Wallace from "Wallace and Gromit".

BEST GROUP SHOT:
I like this group shot the best because in all honestly, I probably could've made it, and I only know how to use the crop tool. Plus, the guy standing behind and to the left of the main guy in the center front is so pissed to be there and he doesn't care who knows it. Me gusto mucho.

BEST POSTER CAMPAIGN:
These were the first posters I started noticing around town because they were everywhere and I had no idea what they were for. The play sign made me think she was a recording artist with a new album out and it almost made me do a search on Google to see if she was any good. Points for intrigue.

Then these posters came out last week and finally, a face to a name! I don't mean to sound catty or overly critical, but I figured out pretty quickly by her looks that she wasn't a recording artist. But for a political campaign I thought this was immensely clever, introducing first her name, then her face, putting a face to a name, it's something subtle and it sticks with you. I get a kick out of it every time.

Then this poster came out a few days ago and I don't have a clue to who the hell he is. Clearly he's not Gabriela Michetti so what's his face doing on her poster? In all likelihood he's probably a part of her party so why not put his name next to his face? This has been really bothering me but I'm still giving her the Best Campaign title due the fact that she's been able to cause me so much irritation with her posters. This is far more reaction than any of the other poster campaigns have elicited from me, so kudos to the Michetti campaign manager.


This picture is just intended to demonstrate the fervor with which posters have been going up, being pulled down and pasted over. There's much more where this came from.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

The Mobility of National Holidays

image via www.buenostours.com

Since I started working here in Argentina I haven't gone more than two weeks in a row without a long weekend due to a holiday. In the beginning I didn't really pay attention to what the holidays were for because I was too busy enjoying my days off to really care.  But with the passage of time the novelty eventually wore down and soon I found myself curious as to how businesses could cope in this country considering the fact that their partners in the rest of South America are hard at work while they're grilling on the barbecue.  One student told me that the day off almost isn't even worth it because partners from Brazil, Chile and the rest of the continent, knowing that you're about to be out of the office for an extended period of time, start flooding you the day before in an effort to get everything they need from you before you become unattainable.

We celebrated Flag Day this past Monday and it's a day that commemorates the creation of Argentina's national flag.  If you look it up you'll notice that Flag Day is officially listed as occurring on June 20th..... and I'm writing about it today (June 18th) because yes, you read right, the entire country celebrated it on Monday, June 15th.

Apparently the government finds it really annoying when national holidays fall on weekends (don't we all?) so they've decided that it is their gubernatorial right and obligation to move national holidays around at their discretion so that they fall on weekdays.  The official justification for this is that it encourages tourism.

But what is their exact criteria when choosing a day to move the holiday to?  I would've thought that proximity to the official date would be the main idea here, but if I were right Flag Day would've been marked for public celebration this Friday, the 19th instead of the 15th.  Or, if they wanted to keep it to a Monday, then why not the 22nd which is still closer to the actual holiday than the previous Monday?

In a country where corruption is semi-accepted as a part of government I like to imagine a bunch of old men sitting in a dark library, drinking scotch and smoking cigars with their diaries out on their laps, figuring out which weekend they can all agree on to take a group trip, a boys only weekend, down to the beach together.

The next holiday is Independence Day (the second of two in fact), and much like our own American Independence Day it is so intrinsically linked to an actual date that to move it would be almost blasphemous.  This year Independence Day falls on a Thursday, so it seems highly probable that the government will either declare Friday a day off as well, to promote tourism, or 99% of the population will just take the day off anyway.

Here is a list of all the national holidays for 2009 in Argentina:

1 Jan New Year's Day
24 Mar Truth and Justice Day 
2 Apr Veterans' Day (Malvinas- don't call them the Falklands!)
10 Apr Good Friday 
1 May Labour Day 
25 May National Day (Anniversary of the 1810 Revolution).
15 Jun National Flag Day (Belgrano Day) 
9 Jul National Independence Day 
17 Aug San Martín Day (Anniversary of the Death of General José de San Martín
12 Oct Race Recognition Day
8 Dec Immaculate Conception Day 
25 Dec Christmas Day

Race Recognition Day has got to be the most creative reason for a national holiday I've ever heard of.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Blowing Up

In case we haven't told you personally yet, Graham and I are blowin' up.  Pardon the self-congratulatory tone, but it's kind of true.  Graham is now an unprecedented third-time 'Photo of the Week' winner at the South American Explorers Club and is entertaining an invitation from another photographer to put his works in an exhibition.  His album of doors has also received some laurels over at Argentina's Travel, a website dedicated to the promotion of Argentine tourism.
As for me, I just signed a freelance contract with Propel Media, Inc. to do some travel writing for the blog on a budget travel website, and was thrilled to have an article written on my favourite subject ever, the public transportation system, published on the local expat newspaper's website, The Argentimes.  If you're feeling charitable and have a moment, visit these websites and leave a comment so that these organizations know how lucky they are to have us.  Just don't mention I told you to do it please!

Cafe TORTONI

In every guide book you come across, a visit to Cafe Tortoni is at the top of every 'Must-Do' list.  I don't like being told what to do but this historical cafe has been around since 1858 and holds the title of the oldest cafe in the city.  It was the favourite stomping grounds of such Argentine notables Carlos Gardel, Jorge Luis Borges, Luigi Pirandello, Federico Garcia Lorca, Arturo Rubenstein and Julio Cortazar whose images are immortalized in bronze busts scattered throughout the cafe. But don't ask me who they were, I only recognize two of their names because they're subway stops I have to use.  
Regardless of the historical importance that this cafe probably represents, it is, in my opinion, worth the visit for the quality of the coffee alone.  Having been spoiled by a year of Italian espressos I have found the coffee in this town to be a disappointment, oddly thin and watery considering the delicious richness of their milk.  Tortoni's espresso tastes how espresso should, and the Italian cappuccino (although not slightly Italian at all based on the cinnamon, chocolate shavings and chantilly cream) was scrummy.  The waitstaff is a tempered cross between formal and fed up; they walk around in dark suits with starched, white napkins over their forearms and when they think no one is looking they roll their eyes and bang their trays in frustration.  A good mix of surly and sincere is crucial at any tourist trap destination.  Oops!  Sorry, tourist trap is too strong, but if it makes one more "Top Ten List" then I doubt it will avoid that moniker much longer.
What Tortoni needs the most to preserve its genuine and historical character, and therefore shirk its growing image as 'Tourist Trap', is to foster its older clientele who normally range in age from 60-85 years old.  Not surprisingly this demographic finds themselves disgusted by the lines outside waiting for a table and too old to be waiting around for a cup of coffee.  Instead of sending them to the back of the line, and therefore basically turning them away, Tortoni should usher them right in, front and center.  With its polished brass, mahogany wood, high ceilings, marble tables and cushioned seats the cafe looks too distinguished to be overrun with tourists in their sight seeing gear.  What's missing at Cafe Tortoni are the older ladies in fur coats and muffs and men with monocles.  Anything else looks like plebs playing make believe. 
In summation, the coffee is great, the pastries aren't much, and the austere atmosphere illuminated by fluorescent back-lit stain glass on the ceiling reminds you that Tortoni's heyday has long since passed.



Thursday, June 11, 2009

La Fiaca

image via Treehugger.com
Fiaca (pronounced Fi-A-Caah) is the Lunfardo word that describes a sense of sluggishness, tiredness, reluctance to do anything and proneness to illness.  Since I've been in this city I've had three colds and experienced uncommon laziness.  I'm not trying to say that I'm the epitome of health or an 'early-bird-gets-the-worm' kind of person usually, it's just very strange for me to come down with three colds in a row and rue the moment of waking up as much as I do sometimes. 
As I was running for the bus one day I happened to dash behind another bus just as a cloud of exhaust fumes spewed out of its backside.  I instantly felt a strong urge to vomit.  When walking down the sidewalk it's not unusual to have to hold your breath every other block or so to stop yourself from inhaling bus fumes.  By the time you get home from a day out and about you're typically dying to take a shower because the layer of grime all over you is starting to seep into your pores.  Sometimes I seriously worry about the damage I'm doing to my lungs just by breathing the air here and the years it could be reducing my lifespan by, the tragic irony of living in a city named "Good Airs".
But this affliction isn't just the blight of the un-acclimated immigrants.  They have a cultural-specific word for the symptoms that I (and it seems almost everybody else) routinely experience, so obviously this is a fairly common state of being that's been around for some time.
However, if you try to convince the Portenos that fiaca is possibly brought on by the poor air quality they are simply opposed to the argument.  Never mind the deductive reasoning behind why, when they get out of the city and into the mountains they suddenly have enough energy to run up and down hills all day.  Or why, once they come back to the city, they want to curl up in bed and watch TV all day.  I tried bringing this up with one of my classes this morning and true to form they denied any connection between the state of the air and the health of their bodies.  They said that fiaca is simply a cultural characteristic of the city-dwellers, a side affect of living in small spaces with too many people around, something that is really rather quaint and charming if you think about it.  A persistent cold is actually just allergies, and in this city 'allergies' are as common as parrillas.  
For me, I can't stand the poor air quality so it's not surprising that since coming here I've developed a deep appreciation for mountains simply because they look like they're surrounded with cool, crisp, untouched-by-diesel-fumes air.  As great as Buenos Aires is, I'll never live in another city that doesn't have some kind of law imposing mandatory emissions testing.  

To read about someone else's first encounters with fiaca click here

Monday, June 8, 2009

Best Business Cards

Just a picture of some of the more visually interesting business cards I've picked up here.  They've inspired me to start a collection... if only I could find a practical use for them.

Get Out of the Trees!


Some of the trees here in Buenos Aires are so beautiful, this type is my personal favourite, with dark spindly branches that twist and turn up into the sky they jump out against the screen of blue and green above your head.

Other times, it's just amazing what you find in the trees.  For instance, me.

Or somebody's bedroom.
Or a massive tumor.
Or another tree.
Or a house.  Or is the tree in the house?  Which came first?
Or a pregnant-looking bird.
*All images via Graham Newhall over at The Reef