Showing posts with label Argentina. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Argentina. Show all posts

Thursday, June 4, 2009

The other side of the peso

It took me two years but I'm finally finding out the other side of the story here in Buenos Aires. There's always another side, right? The sour to the sweet and the explanations as to, "But why is it like that?"


I've spent the past 6 weeks traveling weekends as a contributing writer for Perfect Places in Argentina and Uruguay. And I've spent week nights for the past 2 months at the Universita di Bologna satellite campus in Buenos Aires. Where I'm studying International Affairs with an emphasis in European Union - Mercosur relations. I plan to write my thesis on the effect of mobile foreign labor on the local market, currently and historically.

Historically was added when I found out the reason the University of Bologna, Italy has a campus in Buenos Aires is because of that particular phenomenon - mobile foreign labor. Italians used to do in Argentina what people from Puebla, Mexico do in NYC, for example. Leave their home to do their time (10 years is the going period), work for low wages, save their money, then go home and buy property. Thereby changing their economic class (and collectively their country's) in a way their own country didn't afford them. There's enough Italy left here in Buenos Aires that it made sense for Europe's oldest university to set up a place for Italian citizens-by-heredity to study and then have an extended stay in their family's motherland. Mobile labor left its legacy.

As I learn about Latin American history and specifically the history of the Argentine economy, I learn the things that have been left unsaid. Like in any myth, there are characters that have been left out and facts have been omitted or changed. There is a lot unsaid that exposes flaws but also goes a long way to explain the paradoxes of life in Buenos Aires. More importantly for me personally, I realize I'm only just getting past the mirage. They put up a lovely front but below it there's a lot of stank like anywhere else. And children rifling through the garbage seems to be only the beginning. But since this isn't the receptacle for any trashing of the place I've come to love, I'll leave it at this list of recently discovered facts:



1. The military dictatorship that disappeared tens of thousands is not to be defended in any way. But I find it important to have learned that they took power after years of leftist terrorism that included its own disappearances and tortures, plus bombings, kidnappings for ransom, and public executions. Much of the country had supported far left guerrillas who amassed over $150 million from robbing the government through massive violence. It's in fact strange I have never heard any back story. Might have to do with the next.



2. People lie here. A lot. It is considered preferable to lie than to say something that isn't gooey sweet. I don't think it's even considered lying if it's nicer than the truth. Women expect men to cheat and lie. A lot.

3. There's no real middle class so people with any purchasing power are like the upper class somewhere else. And spending time with them you note that friendship is a business, no one trusts anyone, and they're very uninteresting people for the most part. Except for the self-made, of course, but that's only the landed elite who have scraped something together to keep their land, some kind of entrepreneurial something which makes them actual middle class with purchasing power. There are not many of those and they spend much of their time outside of Argentina in places like Brazil, North America and Europe. The children of the former are in my graduate program, unfortunately. With the exception of a few lawyers and professionals, they are wasted space and the general feeling is B-level 1950s Swiss boarding school. I'm obviously out of my element there, aside from being the only non Latin person, I usually feel like the only person from the present.


4. (This one I knew but it doesn't cease to amaze). There is no such thing as capitalism here because no one trusts Argentine money. They believe in owned objects, they believe in jobs but for them time isn't money and giving a customer change is more trouble than making the sale. It's just the way it is.

5. It's feudalism because this country never had land reform. It never experienced industrialization. There were no natives left to fight for their stake in the country. They were nomadic to begin with and they were driven out or killed by 1880. There were never peasants, only haciendas. Then when agriculture became big business the land was easy enough to work with few workers (cattle ranching) or with laborers who were immigrants from Europe who maintained their European citizenship (again, I defer to the students in my program who all have Italian citizenship passed down from their great grandparents). So other than the few wealthy landowners, no one had a claim to land, unlike in countries all over the world that transitioned from feudalism to capitalism. Argentines didn't.

6. This place is a chaotic story of what happens when a country doesn't follow the rules that everyone else does - economically, politically. Brazil is prospering today because it has industry. Argentina doesn't. It is the land of anarchists and mafia strongmen, and Basques, and Nazis and Jews alike, and charismatic personalities. It has the strongest unions on the planet and no economic or political foundation and it likely will continue to rely on food exports with prices that continue to decline every year.

People get along remarkably well, that is still the hallmark of my fascination with this place. But I am no longer its greatest fan. I see Argentina's flaws and they make me like the US that much more. It's important to see both sides.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

The American Vote in Argentina




Today I went to the U.S. embassy to cast my vote for president. It was a large party from 9am to 12pm that involved lines, food, and confusion. McDonalds and Starbucks had tables, a band played, there were news cameras and members of study abroad programs.

Figuring out how to vote was quite a challenge, though the event was well staffed and the set up facilitated voting and even last minute registration. There wasn't any material with the names of candidates, there wasn't any instruction as to where to go to cast your ballot, there were no visuals and few posted signs. People didn't talk to one another to find out what the line they were in was really for. It was a disconnected scene with crowds of strangers but it was exciting being a part of the voting process (hopefully, if the ballots are in fact received and counted).

My friend and I got out our New York methods of doing business and got through the process quickly enough. The process involved the following:

1. Wait in line to enter the embassy (one hour wait at 9:30am)
2. Go through security (they never checked my ID but did take my phone and camera)
3. Get inside and look for the voting station after making your way through the food
4. Get a write-in ballot, again without showing ID
5. Write your address, social, etc on a form. Write the name of the president and vice president on a second page. Wish that you knew the names of the congress members you'd like to vote for and leave that pathetically blank (like every other person in there).

The highlight of the event was hearing a woman ask a volunteer for the spelling of Sarah Palin's name. The lowpoint was looking at that woman and thinking that she has no idea what she's doing.

That was the general feeling inside the consulate, that we the people haven't a clue. It was as messy a scene as the Argentine traffic outside on the street. My friend and I left, went down to the subway, and got on with our day.

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

Smoke and Mirrors


The breeze comes in crispy most days here now in the city of good airs. The sun is a joy and the wind is welcome, especially so this past month when rolling clouds of smoke covered the entire city in a fog and a stink.

The smell woke me up in the middle of the night as it seeped in through the French doors of the balcony off our bedroom. It wouldn't leave and got into every crevice of the apartment and of my nose.

Since it was man made, and affected an entire city to the benefit of just two landowners looking for extra grazing room for their cattle, I had a hard time containing my frustration at a government and a people that seem to passively accept the blatant abuse of the many for the benefit of the few. At least in the US it's slightly less obvious that we're being tooled. Here, two individuals started a fire an hour outside of the city that blazed out of control and disrupted 20 million respiration systems for five days. And people didn't like it but they seemed to take it all in stride. Much like the rampant inflation that blazes on, unthwarted.

On a happier bent, since I wrote you last I visited New York City, played with Redheadphone, and saw some of my favorite people. Maxi played two live shows since I've been back and played one televised show with his band El Tucu y los Paroquianos. He wore over-sized, ladies' vintage sunglasses and kind of resembled my mom, Harlene, while he pogo-ed around on the electric guitar. The show was like a dope gong show episode in Spanish with a mascot in full furry monster suit and horns and a trannie guest commentator.

Max produces a morning show on public TV and they put his band on to promote a big live show played the following day. Seems like the rules here are different than in Hollywood, where I grew up. So I may soon be posting a clip of me playing on Argentine TV with Kasha meowing back up.

I've been going out again finally. I had to, for work, this month, when I got to write a nightlife section for Time Out Buenos Aires and for two English Language media outposts here - one magazine and the site What's Up Buenos Aires, home of Zizek Records that's making waves stateside with cumbia-hop. So I was forced to go out and get involved late night, thank goodness.

I feel much better when I've been running around with a martini glass in hand (or smuggled to go in my purse) until the wee hours. You'd think I'd have grown out of it but even if I don't drink much I can't seem to shake the urge to vampire and see what people are up when they get down. Thankfully, many of the nightspots aren't that original, so one trip does the job. But a couple weekly parties have me hooked so I sneak out of bed at 1am, meet up with a 22 year old girlfriend or two, and explore a bit before getting back under the covers in time to see Max off to work at 7am. It's been like that the past two weeks but now I'm done with the assignments and hopefully I'll be focusing on this next record Max and I are looking to do. Except for Thursdays, the Thursday night party is too good. At least every other week, then.

Len-dog and Harlene are arriving soon and we're heading out to pick them up at the airport. They'll be here almost three weeks and we might make it to Brazil for a few days. They're meeting Max for the first time shortly, which should be interesting.

I'm not worried at all about them liking him, obviously, I'm concerned for his sanity and for the massive unrest that usually occurs in my daily life when those Hymans tag team me with drama. Max has been warned and I have no excuse but to try to keep it together and put some limits on Len-dog's hyperactivity and Harlene's spontaneous, unwelcome, public performances and then we should be at a decent level of bananas, rather than on overdrive.

The hardest thing won't be my nice, funny, neurotic parents, it'll be the fun-house mirror family tends to hold up for you, you know? We bought this beautiful antique mirror and we'll put it up this weekend, which seems fitting. Harlene and Leonard are staying in this amazing apartment down the street. I'll get some photos of them tango-ing, eating steak at a kosher parilla, and diving into the Argentine landscape. Kasha will be happy to get their added attention - unless Len-dog steps on her like he usually tries to.

We had a birthday party for Max and forgot to celebrate our one year of being together. We'll handle that once the dust has settled after these people visit. We can celebrate our survival as a couple then, if all goes according to plan. Dude is an avid Woody Allen fan but he hasn't lived one of his movies, yet. He'll have that pleasure starting tonight I guess.

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Why Argentines are Latino American and not Latinos

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You're probably wondering if there are any Latinos in this Latin American country (see previous entry, Buenos Aires is Italian for Barcelona). Since a Latino identifies with being of mixed race and being from Latin America, Argentines could technically qualify. Except that many are not of mixed race and that those who are may not claim to be. Basically, in order to identify with the name of an ethnic group you must accept its name and Argentines do not, in this case. Their reasoning seems to be a mix in itself; mostly political with a bit of race thrown in. I'm still trying to figure out the big picture from a "yanqui" point of view and here's what I've come up with so far.

I'm told the area surrounding Buenos Aires has always had the least number of ethnically indigenous people in Argentina. It is the port and the capitol and has always been the center of immigration. Immigration here means primarily European immigrants, or traditionally it has meant people coming from Europe, most recently immigration was from Eastern Europe.

The bulk of the Portenos (people from Buenos Aires) trace their roots to when, in the 19th and 20th centuries, large numbers of Spanish and Italians came to Argentina for a new life. In the late 1800's there was expansion into the Pampas, the middle of the country that is the nation's bread basket. For years the army had been losing the battle over indigenous lands in the Pampas but that changed with one general's savage defeat of native fighters in a series of battles called the Desert Campaign. Manifest Destiny was claimed to defend genocide as a national hero, General Roca, murdered or expelled 100% of the people in the area:

"At the end of 1878 he started the first wave to "clean" the area between the Alsina trench and the Río Negro River by continuous and systematic attacks to the aboriginals' settlements.

With 6,000 soldiers armed with new breech-loading Remington rifles supplied by the United States, in 1879 he began the second wave" (wiki)

In part, it seems the American habit of supplying arms to kill innocent, non-European families explains why so many people have remained ethnically European in this area of the country. There's recent immigration from Peru and Bolivia and there are native Argentines in the North and some in the South of the country, but here in the city there are few.

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Racial identity isn't a popular subject so I do my best to get an accurate perspective of my new home. One thing is certain, Argentines of all flavors don't call themselves Latino. They do call themselves Latino Americano and view the name Latino to be a "yanqui" construction. They call Americans yanquis because they view all inhabitants of the Americas to be American. Argentines seem to look at the word Latino as a response by American Latinos to their marginalization in the US. Max tells me most Latin nationals don't use the moniker Latino but rather Latin American or just American. They don't appreciate the US hogging the name of two continents and neither does Canada. We're all Americans, yo. In fact, the official name for my nationality here is estadounidense which translates as something like "UnitedStatesian."

The few people that do identify specifically with the term Latino also identify with hip hop culture. The emcees here adopt a Puerto Rican accent when they rhyme. Max claims the Latino identity is a yanqui construction rather than a global representation of Latin Americans. I guess Argentina makes for a complex and interesting place to examine ethnic identity.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Sleeping and Meeting Babies

I may be catching up on the sleep I've missed my entire life. Is it normal to sleep so much when you are relatively happy? This month I don't have any nightlife crowd shots or smiling, beverage-in-hand pics. Besides sleep and watching the Hallmark channel in Buenos Aires, I've hung out in family settings with kids and ate large meals and relaxed a lot on couches. I'm thinking this is what well-adjusted people spend time doing.
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Maxi's new neice and four-year-old nephew.

This is okay as a novelty but not sure I can hold out sitting so much. I'm hoping there's another segment to this settling down thing. We're hunting for an apartment which is more my speed. Think I need to turn up the volume - maybe if there was some kind of sunshine going on - it's overcast here in sunny South America. The city generally has a lot of Naples, Italy going on but lately it's doing its best imitation of London.
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This month I made a trip to LA which included one funeral and three visits to the dentists. Despite those, I got to enjoy some quality time with friends and family - even some good times with family in there between the neurotic moments.
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Mindy and Mom in Malibu
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Len-dog with Maria and Hayden
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Aunt Rita with granddaughter Laila (Len-dog is jealous)
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Brandon and web wings. Carmen and Maxi have the same eyeball fixation.
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Aww yeah, I'm the jewish godmother!Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket
mommies and babies are beautiful
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Okay, I did go out a little bit - forgot - just over to the Standard and Chinatown.
Crowds and cocktails.
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Richard Ray - there is no other Hollyhood
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Remember "where's waldo?" Can you find Dr. Oop and Loco in the crowd?
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And Max and I went to a big show before I left - something sponsored by soda.
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Mataplantas played at "Pepsi Music"
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Max and Mataplantas
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Argentina's star emcee - Dante. He's also the son of the most successful rock artist of the past few decades. Even the stars, and children of stars are nice here. It's an amazing culture.

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Argentine reality shows tan impressionantes

Argentine talks shows are amazing. I just watched four overweight teenage girls withstand a panel of shrinks and nutritionists and a studio audience scrutinize them physically and mentally. One girl's thin sister was brought up to the stage out of the audience. The hostess went on about how pretty she was and how much alike they looked and the heavy sister started crying. The camera panned in on her and the panel went on about how she was crying because, of course, she was comparing herself to her sister. Their was no shame in their game and the poor girl just stood there and cried. At the end a huge boy got up and danced with all the girls. It was hard to watch. The highlight was the hostess interrupting the weighing of each girl to see how they did after a week's regimen in order to read an advertisement off the teleprompter. She held up a box of pills to alleviate pms and gave a speil while the girls waited patiently behind her, busting out of their matching white tank tops and mini skirts. She finished and a spanish pop song exploded out of the speakers and everyone broke into line dancing.
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The next show was hectic too - I didn't cry like I did for the fat girl, but it was rough. It's a show for older singles - late 30's to 40's and there were a line of guys and a line of women who got to vote for each other, see if they sync'd up, then go on a date with video camera surveillance for the following day's show. Kind of like the dating game but really candid about their feelings. There was a dude who talked about how he cries at night because he's lonely. Cut to the talk show hostess presenting a live commercial for anti-inflamatory cream.
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Then there's the show that everyone seems to watch and I don't get it. It's their Big Brother - "Gran Hermano" that's amazingly boring. Footage of people sleeping, eating, and sitting around a house with nothing to do. Oh wow, here's a trailer for a show with a guy with tears streaming down his face. They're big on expressing sensitivity along with their machismo.
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I just ate a spinach, cheese and pumpkin torte thing for lunch. They're big on pumpkin - pumpkin soup, pumpkin ravioli, pumpkin pie. No wonder I love this place - steak, wine, sensitive dudes with great haircuts, and pumpkin. I'm lucky to be in Buenos Aires.

Saturday, February 17, 2007

Leaving NYC



I'm close to breaking out of NYC winter for a minute and trying myself out in Argentina. It's been a long time since I was a traveler. Now I'm the broke back girl who can't carry anything up the mountain. How will I climb Machu Pichu with gear? It's hard to leave New York as I'm an NYC junkie now, official. So that's a good reason to go and face the fears, try the new, smell the boys. Buenos Aires is going to be solid good - that's what I'm thinking anyway. Keep you posted.

If you want to read some nyc love:
art
http://www.newyorkcool.com/archives/2007/February/arts-david-choe.html
http://www.newyorkcool.com/archives/2007/February/arts-floodwall.html
music
http://www.newyorkcool.com/archives/2007/January/music-canal-room.html
http://www.newyorkcool.com/archives/2006/December/feature.html
http://www.newyorkcool.com/archives/2006/December/music-cmj.htm