Back

Well here I am, back on the couch in Buenos Aires.  I got back yesterday afternoon and it's funny how it felt like coming home.  In some ways I think it's just because I had a place to go and people to see, instead of being an anonymous stranger in some tourist town.  But I realized, while I was gone, that I actually do feel fond of Buenos Aires.  Yes, it's a big city, but it honestly doesn't feel that way in the little sphere I've developed.  I'm fine cruising around from Palermo to Belgrano to the Centro; it's what I'm used to.  It's when you start leaving the city that you realize...it just keeps going.  And going.

I'm still trying to figure out what makes this city tick.  I've noticed so many little things about it; I'm convinced it's got at least five personalities.  In one sense, it's trying so hard to be European.  It feels more like a city in Spain than a city in Argentina (at least, according to that typical Latin American style - difficult to explain unless you've been to one or both places and know from personal experience). The supermarkets here are the same French and Spanish chains I saw in Europe; the sidewalks are made of big tiles, not concrete.  Transportation's well-organized: the subtes run right to the major train stations out of the city; taxis are metered; buses are well-marked by their routes and every bus stop is indicated with the number of the line and the stops it makes along the way.

Speaking of, the subte is an interesting place.  Everyone on the subte is going through some part of their daily grind: getting from here to there, sometimes studying or planning along the way.  There are the people who wear their sunglasses, and the people with their ipods, and then the people with the sunglasses and the ipods (which means "Don't talk to me").  There are the parents with strollers, and the businessmen in their suits.  There are the students going to or from class, and the little old people (viejitos) going who knows where.  Everyone wants a seat on the subte, but if a viejito or a pregnant lady get onto a train, there's always someone offering up their chair.  During rush hour (yes, this happens without cars too) we're packed as tight as sardines, and it's a common occurrence for someone to lose their balance as the train takes a corner.  Of course, they fall onto other people, who in turn stumble into other, and so on, but people seldom hold a grudge about this; in fact, if you're falling, most of the time someone will reach out to help you.  Street vendors and musicians think the subtes are good places to try to hawk their wares (anything from socks to headphones to coloring books) or play a song for someone's pocket change.  I'd be curious to follow one of these guys or gals around for a day and see how successful they are.  I have a hard time imagining that they'd make enough for it to be worth their time, but since they're still doing it, apparently they do alright.

Many people have remarked to me that they find the porteños rude and unhelpful.  I've found that they're nice and willing to lend a hand (take the time on my birthday that I emerged from the subte feeling dizzy and that nice lady offered to call the ambulance for me, for example).  This is curious to me because the friends that see porteños as hostile are from other places in Latin America, and consequently have darker skin.  Is Buenos Aires suffering from some kind of European or white supremisism?  Odd, since it's arguably populated at least as many outsiders as locals, or so it seems.  It is, I suppose, akin to the race issues that our own country has dealt with and is still facing today.  (On that topic, but completely unrelated to Buenos Aires, I read this interesting and provoking article in Forbes, thanks to my dear friend Angela.  It sparked quite a debate amongst our friends from CC (which is why I love our school) on Facebook.  I'd be interested to know your reactions, so have a look: If I Were A Poor Black Kid.)  I still remember, and question, the day when Andrés (the elder) told me that he thinks people here look down on him because he's from Colombia.  He's under the impression that all of South America hates Colombia, because of it's (changing) reputation as a country overrun by drug lords.  I don't doubt that he feels discriminated against in certain places, but I wonder if he's exaggerating about the entire continent?

I remember, on the night that the Andrés' took me downtown, they said that Buenos Aires was full of tourists from everywhere (de todos lados).  I've noticed this too, and it's hard to tell who's Argentine and who's not, until you hear them talk.  This city seems to be an ex-pat trap, so to speak...in my time on Robin's couch, I've met quite a few people who came to this city with the intent of taking Spanish lessons for a couple months...and three years later, they're still here.  I can see how that's possible; it's easy to get sucked into staying here for this or that event, or staying because you've established a comfortable routine and don't bother to get out of it.  Buenos Aires lends itself to opportunity, I think, for helping these contented or suckered ex-pats stay put.  Take Robin and Mike, for example: they've both managed to establish businesses here that are growing and doing well.  And you can bet that they're not the only ones.  There's Buenos Aires Delivery, there's Buenos Aires Pub Crawl, there's...the list goes on.  All great ideas, all started by foreigners.  I was talking about this with Robin last night, pondering at why it is that the services for tourists are all run by tourists, and he said that while Argentines may come up with equally brilliant ideas, they lack one thing that takes them that extra mile: service.  It's true.  Waiters leave you waiting for minutes on end before they come to check on you.  Shop owners don't scowl at you, but they don't make you feel all that appreciated either.  I suppose it's just the Argentine way of doing things, but when you're from a different country (like the US) where service is so highly valued, it's gonna feel different (for most tourists, in a negative way).  Robin said that's why it was so easy for Biking Buenos Aires to get into the Lonely Planet guide for Argentina: the LP rep said that they prefer to promote local businesses, but they won't send tourists to companies that won't take good care of them, so to speak.

I guess this is where Argentina starts to take on a more Latin American feel, in an endearing way.  There's a holiday every month, and government offices are closed.  Nice for the locals, to be sure.  Sometimes frustrating for visitors.  There's no set time for when the subtes run: they just start early in the morning and then go till some time around ten at night, or whenever the drivers feel like stopping.  Some days they don't charge you to ride, and if you show up late in the evening or during lunch break, the ticket sellers just let you walk through the handicapped door.  The city centro is dotted with manteros, street vendors who spread their wares on blankets on the ground and try to catch your interest as you walk by.  The Argentine government declared them illegal a couple weeks ago, but the law won't go into effect until March, and even then, no one seems to think it will actually make a difference in their presence on the streets.  It just means that they'll have to pack up and run if a cop comes by (like happens in Europe, ironically).  Then there are the cartoneros, who sort through all the bags of trash set out on the street and pull out anything recyclable, leaving the rest for the garbage men to pick up.  At first, you'd think this was no good, just making a mess for the poor garbage men.  But if you think about it, it's smart: makes sure that the recyclable things get collected and actually recycled, and it creates jobs for more people (apparently the cartoneros get paid decently by doing what they do).  Cool, right?  You'd never see this kind of thing in the US, but here it works.  Thank you, Argentina.

Two last things I notice about this city:  One.  There are lots of parks and plazas.  And the parks are actual, proper parks with grass expanses where one can sit and enjoy some air and sunshine.  Which lots of people do, especially on weekend afternoons.  People go with friends, books, guitars, drums, blankets, bottles of beer, dogs, sunglasses, and smiles.  It's a nice atmosphere to be in, albeit a bit overwhelming at first when you see lots of groups of people dotting the lawns.  Two.  Porteños have a fierce pride, both in their city and their country.  I noted this a lot in our CELTA classes; the topic of travel or events or suggestions would always come up in someone's lesson, and it would inevitably turn to "Give us some advice about things to do in Buenos Aires".  We heard lots of different suggestions this way, and Ana Maria (from the pre-int) class even started bringing in brochures of different places we could visit, first around BA and then around the entire country.  They were eager to share their knowledge with us so that we could come to love it as much as they do.

Their trick worked.  I'm growing more and more fond of this country, and this city, all the time.  I never thought I'd actually enjoy living in a big city, and I still don't think it's the lifestyle I want to lead forever and ever, but I'm surprised at how much I am liking it.  I'm content to stay here for a couple more days visiting friends before I journey to Mendoza, which is a place I fully expect to be enamored by.  Wine, olives, and mountains...what can go wrong?  Let's hope I'm not tempting fate with that one.  Sending love from Buenos Aires, where I'm about to abandon my computer for Pride and Prejudice, the paper version.