Ramblings through and about Buenos Aires

Last weekend my trip was to Colonia del Sacramento, the colonial town across the river in Uruguay.  You might say that I went to Old Sacramento.  I hadn’t realized that the Portuguese got this far south and that Uruguay was the borderland where the Portuguese and Spanish fought it out.  Eventually the Spanish prevailed, so I don’t really understand why Argentina and Uruguay are separate countries. 

As I wander around, I end up with a list of questions to ask my teacher in school the next day.  Sometimes it is about some behavior I can’t understand but usually it is language related.  I took a picture of this sign for my teacher because I had trouble translating it.  It says:  I couldn’t figure out what to wear so I put on happy.

I hadn’t bothered changing any money in Uruguay, so when I went into a minimart to buy a Diet Coke, I asked if they would take Argentine pesos.  They did, but gave me my change in Uruguayan pesos.  No problem.  Later I went to a different minimart that would not take Argentine pesos.  Nor would they take dollars or a credit card.  Only Uruguayan pesos or a debit card.  It is a surreal experience to have hundreds of dollars in my pocket and not be able to afford a soda.

This weekend I made an excursion to an estancia (ranch) for an "authentic gaucho experience."  We did a trail ride where I kept hoping my horse would stay in line and not trot. He did seem to want to once, but I found the brakes, I mean the rein things.   After riding through the fields, we were served “the best empanadas in Argentina.”  I have to say they were the best I have had here.  Then an asada lunch.  First three kinds of sausage.  Then chicken.  Then spare ribs.  When they brought out steak I thought we were done, and I was disappointed that it was a little tough.  But then they brought out another steak that was delicious.  I should have paced myself so I could have had seconds on the real steak.  But I was stuffed by then.  And there was still dessert.

Last weekend I also went to a few museums. The big surprise for me was the Eva Peron Museum. There are still a lot of Peronistas here and I was having trouble understanding what exactly the movement is and why Eva Peron was and remains so popular. I had understood that she was "just" an actress when she met Peron. It turns out that she was a cross between Eleanor Roosevelt and Ronald Reagan. She was "just" an actress for ten years and was quite successful and popular. But she became concerned about the working conditions and low pay for actors, so she joined the union and eventually became president of the actors' union. By the time she met Peron, she had been an activist for years on behalf of women and the working class. Together they created a movement aimed to help the working class and that is why there are still Peronistas, still fighting for the same issues. Among other things, Evita created a halfway house for homeless people with the goal that they would be helped to get work so they could move on to self sufficiency. I saw the same thing when I visited Eleanor Roosevelt's home in Val-Kill. Amazing how the brilliant idea of helping people find work so they can support themselves keeps getting "discovered" in so many different locations and times.

There are a lot of homeless people in Buenos Aires sleeping on the sidewalks or on park benches and as near as I can tell, no one has a problem with them.  They also seem incredibly mess-free. As I have walked around, I have gotten to recognize a few of the regulars.  The most interesting to me is a woman who sleeps on a very high mattress under an arcade across the street from Plaza Mayor which is the big plaza in front of the Casa Rosa.  Literally, the Pink House, it is the Argentine White House named for its distinctive rose colored stones.

I was alternating my route to and from school since there are a lot of parallel streets that I can take, but lately I have taken the same route every day to see what this woman is doing.  On crowded weekday mornings, she is frequently still asleep when I walk by around 9:15.  When I snapped this picture, I thought she was under the covers, but she was up and across the sidewalk, smiling sweetly at me. 

 

The next day, she was reading in bed when I came by.  Another day, she was apparently doing laundry in one of the several large Home Depot sized buckets full of water she has along the curb.  One morning it was raining and I got soaked in my non-waterproof raincoat.  When I turned the corner, she was sitting on her bed reading the newspaper.  I have started to walk this way at other times, too.  On the weekends, the area is deserted, but when I walked by late Saturday afternoon, she had a pizza in a box and was sitting on her bed eating.  There are several things stacked around her and a dog that is always sleeping.  And she is always smiling sweetly.

Most of the homeless that I see are men and they sleep right on the sidewalk, sometimes in a doorway or under an overhang.  Unlike in other Latin American countries I have visited, I have not seen any public bathrooms, so I am rather mystified.  Unlike in America, there are not messes in the street where the homeless are. I had not seen any other elaborate establishments like hers until today, when I took a slightly different route and saw these neatly made beds with no garbage strewn around and no people either.

Needless to say, there are a lot of beggars as well, and not infrequently I see a nursing mother sitting on the sidewalk.  A lot of people, including quite a few children, walk around selling socks or packages of tissues, although I have never seen anyone buying.  When I am sitting in the park, or even inside a restaurant, every five or ten minutes someone tries to sell something to me or just asks for money. And again, I recognize the regulars in my neighborhood.

Right after I moved into my apartment, I realized that I had forgotten to ask when and how the garbage goes out.  I’m such a suburban American! I expect garbage pickup.  It took me three days, but I suddenly realized that there were two large dumpsters practically in front of my front door - one for garbage and one for recycling.  There are similar dumpsters on every block.  You take out your garbage whenever you want and put it in the dumpster, and the trucks come by whenever to empty them.

But … not infrequently, I see people going through the garbage, presumably looking for something to eat or anything that has value.  Sometimes, it is a team of two men - one inside the dumpster and one holding it open and receiving items.  Most mornings, sanitation workers sweep around the dumpsters and the area is completely clean, but by the evening, bags of garbage are strewn about from the men taking out bags and going through them.

No conclusions.  Homelessness and poverty are universal and Argentina’s economy is really bad right now.  I wish I understood better how things are handled here.  Where and how do the homeless eat?

Back to my daily life ... My school is on the fourth floor (that would be the fifth floor in America) of a building two blocks from Plaza Mayor.  It has an ancient cage elevator that has two doors that you slide to open and close.  The elevator will not go unless you close both doors, and when you get off, you have to make sure you close them both.

The more I have walked around Buenos Aires, the more I appreciate my slightly rundown but charming neighborhood of San Telmo. Similarly, I find this antique elevator with two doors that you have to slide closed manually charming except ... on the two occasions in the month that I have been here when the elevator was out of service and I had to walk up (and down) four flights.

Finally in the "I'm definitely an old fogy now" category ... Practically everyone here under the age of 30 or so has tattoos and I find most of them somewhere between unattractive and mystifying. Some people have so many that you can't see any; it is all just a blur. One man had his extremities tattooed in a solid block - no design. Some seem very random. And a lot are words or sentences. The other day I sat behind a young woman wearing a sundress and across her shoulder blades was written: Sitting is allowed standing is obligatory. If you are going to write something on your body you could choose something profound by the Beatles like "love is all you need" or "imagine all the people sharing all the world." But "sitting is allowed standing is obligatory?" This is the message you want to share for your whole life? Am I missing the point? Does it mean stand for something? I am totally mystified, and not just in Spanish.