Medialunas, conversaciones del castellano y gays

So this is my week off from internship, I was originally planning on traveling but instead, I decided to stay in Buenos Aires - reading lots for my research, painting canvases, visiting places, doing interviews with various people, and shopping. I like it this way even though I am missing out on other parts of Argentina (like Iguazu Falls) but I don't know, I feel like I have not gotten to know Buenos Aires fully yet so this week has been perfect.

So this morning, I went to a cafe called Confeteria La Ideal for a breakfast conversation meeting with two Spanish teachers and their students. I never met the teacher before but I did email him about a class before and he was very nice to invite to this conversation gathering for free practice. I thought it would be great way to practice my Spanish for an hour and half, meet some new and interesting people, and see if I want to have those teachers give me lessons for the last two weeks I am here. Well...it was interesting...

First upon my arrival, the cafe was EMPTY..and I mean EMPTY with the exception of the group of conversationers...like literally there was no one there except for us and a waiter. It's breakfast time..Argentines love cafes...and no one was there! And it's a famous cafe too...highly recommended to watch tango shows and take tango lessons with a good cafe on the first floor. I thought it would be packed with tourists! But nope..Well bueno, that's okay.

Then I met my group... and it was a group of mid-aged American men with a young Argentine lad (the teacher) and another mid-aged Argentine man (the other teacher). So I felt awkward being the only one under 28 and female.

But that's bueno too, we were just all chatting about various things like what do you do, oh you are a teacher, what do you do, oh you are a student, that type of thing UNTIL the American man sitting across from me asked the MOST awkward question ever! It went like this (all in Spanish, of course):

American Man - "So can I asked if how many gay men are here"
Young Argentine teacher (turned red, confused out of his mind) - "you mean in Argentina?"
American Man - "No, here! this table."

AWKWARD SILENCE.................. I was confused...........

Young Argentine teacher (still red) pointed to me and said, "well, I don't know about Quing, but from this side of the table to that end, all gay."

And since I was sitting at the edge of the table, that meant all of one.

The other American man on the other end of table protested: "umm..I am not"
Young Argentine teacher - "Oh sorry, my bad, so only 5 out 6 men here at gay plus Quing"

So I was speaking Spanish and eating medialunas with a group of gay men in Buenos Aires at 10am on a nice, sunny Thursday morning. Of course, I have never met any of them before!

And after that awkward conversation, we discussed the following topics (yes, all in Spanish):
- what's a token heterosexual
- money laundering in NY and Bankok
- bribes
- sexual harrassment at primary schools
- under the table dealings in Argentina
- corruption
- legal terms
- office politics

It was kind of an amazingly hilarious morning. Before we left the place, we were checking out a hot, muscular guy across from us (there was actually a customer!), yes all of us minus the straight guy.

Tango

So Argentina is famosa for its tango scene, and my new apartment mate (who's like 50 something but she's not a host mom just an apartment mate..) is really into the whole tango scene so she took me to one of the milongas two weeks ago (a milonga is a dance studio/club where you take classes and then practice dancing, with hundreds of people). Ever since then, I have been going to the milonga in Palermo Viejo (called La Viruta) every Wed. from 8pm until whenever, usually midnight or whatnot. It starts with las clases de rock, which is just swing dance, and then at 9:30pm (claims the schedule but that really means 10pm here in Argentina), you could the slow, smooth rhythm of tango.

Tango is fun and surprisingly not impossible. It actually doesn't require me to think that much because I just follow whatever the guy is doing and once you get the basic steps, it's just all variations from then on. I like La Viruta because the people here are friendly, the drinks there are cheap, and there is this crazy, loud and abruptly shouting head-instructor who's just funny to watch and speaks incomprehensible Spanish. And strange, random things always happen when I go there. Like for example, the first time I went there, I was able to get my friends and me some nice table up front by smiling a lot and speaking English to the waiter (the poor thing was so confused on what I wanted ...) It was all swell until the instructors started doing a show for the students, and the crazy, loud and abruptly shouting head-instructor out of the blues just came up to me and sat on my lap. I screamed because he's like heavy as heck and without saying sorry or anything, he just got up and left. And then today, I went there myself because all my friends bailed due to sickness (yeah right) and I was seating at a table by myself during break time. Then this mid-aged man just came over to my table, asked for the menu, said that he couldn't read it because the prints were too small, which I believed him, and then read the whole menu to him. THEN his wife/girlfriend came over and put her arms over me - I am just assuming she's very friendly. Upon hearing from her husband/boyfriend that I read the menu to him, she was delighted and asked me to read it to her as well. So she pulled me into her embrace as I was struggling with pronounciation, corrected my pronunciation as we went, and was so happy with the fact that I got through the menu. She thought it was especially cute when I told her the prices as well. And yes, she hugged me the entire time. And no, I had no idea who they were.

Argentine work ethics

I have conflicting feelings about the work ethics of Argentines. On one hand, I do think they work very hard, until 6pm or 7pm daily (albeit that they do start at 10am or 10:30am). Many people hold multiple jobs (albeit it is not because they are naturally enthusastic about working but because they receive low wages.).On the other hand, I am constantly frustrated with the lack of efficiency in this country.

For example, after the departure of my former boss, who is currently on vacation, I have been under the direction of her protoge. While I am not longer required to do hours of intensive research, I am now assigned to mindless photocopying jobs. Of course, I do not do the photocopies myself (since self-serve is kind of unheard of here...), I take them to a store downstairs, hand them whatever I need, and wait around until or come back when they are done. I am not sure if it the problem with their machines or something, but gosh darn it, each photocopying takes like foreveeeeeer. While I do not mind the wait since I just chat with the owner (and hence, free Spanish practice time) , but it should not take you half an hour to make a 20 page photocopying job. And today, when I went in today, for yet another exciting photocopying job, I was told that I need to come back 2 and half hours later for a 25 page photocopying job! The reason? It was 3:30pm and it was lunch time... and yes, lunch does take 2 hours, even if it lunch on a job....

Updates on Marchas

So the marches that I am witnessing right now are those in support of the government and of Cristina. They believe the increased taxaton on the farmers are good for the poor and eliminate the bourgeois class. Until 5pm, they marched toward the Plaza de Congreso, which is to the right side of my office. It was a bit calmer for 20 minutes as they were all congregated at that Plaza. Now there is a new stream of protestors marching toward Plaza de Mayo, which is to the left of my office. It is loud as heck.

When I get back home, I will be able to witness a another group´s protest, which is located in Palermo. These protestors are against the government and against the tax increase. They are the wealthy/middle class land owners.

Everything is shut down on Avenida de Mayo (the street on which my office is located), the main street of Buenos Aires, where all the government buildings are and which connects the two big plazas. There were over 300,000 people marching by 5pm as noted by the newspaper La Nacion. There are drums, hundreds and thousands of drums, shouts, rifle shots, fireworks, songs, music, chants, claps, horns, and people´s scream.

I am literally deaf by this point, but this type of thing bound to happen twice a month here, especially under the current hostile government-people relation. So far, no one died because of direct violence from the protests, but it is getting louder everyday down here.

More marchas

It is freaking bananas today. Protest marches from noon all the way to eight tonight...ahhhhhh...a protest march en Plaza de Mayo and Plaza de Congreso, and another counter-protest march in Palermo..and another one for something somewhere else. I have been working under all these nosie for an hour now since I am work right on the central street between the two plazas, and my head is dying... please halt until I go back home and then keep on marching, yeah?

Independence Day = NO WORK!

Today my friend from Spain named Nerea and I went to La Plata, which is a quintessential Argentine town that is very representative of what the province of Buenos Aires (not the capital federal BsAs - kind of like NYC and New York State with NYC being capital federal BsAs) ..anyways, it was very lovely and nice since we passed the desolate neighborhoods into the heart of La Plata. There I ate a HUGE sandwich, a cafe with milk, and 2 baskets of desserts for 16 pesos (5 dollars). We sauntered towards the Paseo de Bosques, which is a HUGE park, and went to the Natural Science Museum. And right before the ticket box for the museum, there it says in HUGE letters "Nationals: 4 pesos; Latin Americans: 7 pesos; foreigners (that being everyone outside of Latin American): 12 pesos." And of course, I look Chinese and speak horrible Spanish, definitely cannot pass for a national or a Latin American. This ridiculous and blatant public discrimination just got me off the wall when I tried to go in as a student (student tickets are free). According to ticket booth guy, I am not a national, not a Latin American, not a student from Argentina, and therefore need to pay 12 pesos. Of course, all of those facts are true but why does any of them matter when determining ticket prices for museum entrance (except for the third fact about being a student here or in the States)??? I don't even know where I got the energy or the Spanish to argue, but I pretty much just went off on the poor guy, asking him what's the difference between a Latin American or a foreigner/etc?

After a long line accumulated behind me, I got the national price to go in.

After La Plata, my American friends from work and I went down to a Korean restaurant and just ate the best Korean BBQ EVER!!! My stomach is very happy for this different taste of food other than steak, pasta and empanadas. It was a fantastic 42 pesos per person, which is like 15 dollars.

And then we fit NINE people in a 5 person car. It was great and nauseating.

Live from BsAs

Months before my arrival in Argentina, Cristina Kirchner´s government has increased their taxation on farmers and their products. They also have limited the amount of beef exportation to keep down the national price on meat products. This has caused lots of civil unrest on the parts of those who own farm lands and are in the agriculture business.

The neighborhood where I live, Recoleta, is rather wealthy and many of its residents are landowners whose incomes come from the profits that products on their lands provide. Ever since government´s new taxation on the "el campo,¨ people have been organizing protests against the current president. Besides street demonstrations, everyday there are people who just start banging their pots and pans simultaneously as a form of protest. Every night when I get home, around eight o´clock, the whole neighborhood is drowned in those banging and clanking noises.

Today (Wed). I witnessed my first huge demonstration on Avenida de Mayo, the heart of the Buenos Aires. Av. de Mayo is the street where most government buildings are, starting with the Plaza de Mayo, where the president´s office resides. It also happens to be where I work. So going to work this afternoon was rather difficult. The bus dropped me few blocks away from I usually get off, and I had to walk through mobs of people to get to where I intern. People were waving flags of different colors, rifles were being fired on the air, protesters were beating their drums and shouting angry phrases. Some guy saw me walking down the street, trying to get past all the protestors, and screamed ¨china!" (chinese girl) - I have no idea why.

But in any case, I got the cross street where I work, Av. de Mayo and Av. 9 de Julio, which happen to be the two biggest streets in BsAs and where lots of demontrations start. Trying to get to work, I found myself right between two masses of people facing each other, each carrying a different color flag. "Oh crap, a crossfire!" I thought and started running in the opposite direction. Apparently, these demonstrations were to support the government and its actions of taxation on the rich farmers. At 4pm, Kirchner gave a speech at Plaza de Mayo, attended by thousands of supporters, protestors, politicians, etc.

While this protest is a big one for this month, protests and public demonstrations are just a part of Argentine life, especially in Buenos Aires, where people are forced to care about politics and accept this political instability as a way of life.

Local Election

Last Sunday, I went to a municipal election for villas 21-24 in Buenos Aires (villas are basically urban slums), and the election was for their local representatives. I was designated was an “observer” along with the rest of my colleagues at ACIJ. Because of past military rule, rampant political corruption, and the instability of democracy here in Buenos Aires, civil society, as represented by the NGO that I work at – ACIJ, is trying their best to intervene and make sure all the rules are followed. My position as an observer was just to “observe,” taking notes on any irregularities, enforcing rules of democratic elections, and notifying the authorities if something suspicious occurs.

I planned on waking up at 6am because all ACIJ people were supposed to gather in front of our office building at 7:30am and take a special bus down to the villas. Being me, of course, I woke up 2 hours later at 8am. Thank goodness for lawlessness in Argentina (I lost count of how many red lights the taxi driver ran over) and for the traditional tardiness of Argentines (the bus ended leaving at 8:30 when I get there at 8:20ish), I was able to make to the elections. It was set up at a local elementary school and upon my entrance, I was immediately overwhelmed by the number of people that was surrounding me. These were not the voters, however; they were fiscales and presidents of each voting table. Because of multi-party system in Argentina and rampant election sabotaging, each table has a representative from each political party (they are the fiscales) and a non-partisan person to oversee the whole operation (they are called the presidents of the table). The fiscales’ role is basically to make the other parties don’t do something underhand. The presidents’ role is to be there to resolve any issues between the parties, handle the whole election and such. The reason an election needs all these people is that the voting system in Argentina is not electronic and everything has been entered by hand. It’s a rather cumbersome system. The ballots are basically photocopies of a piece of paper with a candidate’s name on it. For example, at my table, we had 100 ballots for candidate one, 100 ballots for candidate two, and so on. Each table is in charge of a section of the voting list, sorted out by the alphabet, and there were around 30 tables in this election. Each voter would enter the school, find out which table he/she’s suppose to vote at, go to that table, and show the president of the table his/her identification. If all the information he/she provides matches what’s on the official voting list, he/she is handed an envelope with an official stamp and signature of the president on it. Then he/she has to go into a voting booth, sealed off from outside view, and all the ballots from all the candidates will be in there. He/she will pick out the ballot of the person he/she wants to vote for, put it in the envelope, and put that in the ballot box of the designated table, which is right in front of the president. After all that, he/she is handed back the identification document and allowed to leave.

Whenever a voter comes in, all the fiscales go through their own copy of the voting list furiously, find the name, and make sure all the information matches. This is to prevent any unauthorized voter to wreck the election (the official voting list is assembled by the government, anyone not on that list cannot vote). They would also constantly check the voting booth together to make sure all the ballots are still there and such. It’s rather interesting to watch them taking this election thing very seriously and working hard to preserve their democracy.

One thing I found interesting when I was talking to the fiscales at my table was that they are mostly housekeepers and vendors – I expected them to be teachers and such, you know, to be so active in the political process. Another thing was that the election was almost like a fiesta, everybody drinking their mate (an Argentine herbal drink) and eating postres (cookies and whatnot). There were people going around to each table, handing out food to their own party fiscales. The whole lasted from 9AM to 5PM, when the polls closed.

Counting the ballots was the biggest pain in the rear end. Starting at 5PM, the presidents of each ballot destroyed all the remaining ballots in the voting booth and all the fiscales have to sign these forms. They first counted the number of envelopes in the ballot box, making sure it matched the number of voters recorded on the official voting list. The presidents then opened each envelope and counted each ballot by hand. There were some envelopes with two of the same ballots in it, so those counted as one vote. There were some envelopes with no ballot in it, so those counted as an empty vote (usually a high number of empty votes indicated a decrease in citizens’ confidence in their government). As the presidents were counting, the observer, the fiscales, and another official counting scrutinizer were there to watch them count, making sure the whole process is clean. We counted ballots until 6:30PM, and the whole thing was finally over.

I had much fun during the whole process. Everyone at my table was really nice, and I was fed lots of food by all the party members. Our table were assigned 500 voters out of the entire voting list and 87 people voted out of that 500. It was not a bad turnout and I had lots of downtime to chat and learn Spanish.

After that, my friends and I went to a local restaurant to watch the second half of the game between Argentina and Ecuador, a nice conclusion to an exhausting day.

Monedas and tramites

If you ever come to Buenos Aires and will be using the public transportation system here, please hold on to your monedas, or coins, because while they are in great demand, they are not that readily available.

So on Tuesday, I needed to ride the buses to work as usual but I was out of coins. I thought, “oh no problem, I will just go to any store down the street, buy something, and ask for the change back in coins.” Simple, right? Well, after 5 stores and no luck, I began to doubt the cordiality of Argentines. It was not until I went to a kiosco (like a tiny 7-11 but individually owned) did I realize that the kiosco only has 2 coins in total and was only to give me one as part of my change. The vender told me to go to Banco Francis (it’s almost like Citibank in the States) to change my bills into coins. I had to wait in line for half an hour (with everyone glancing at me once in a while –I have no idea why), and guess how many coins I was able to exchange after all that hassle?! A brilliant amount of five pesos! That’s 2 days’ worth of buses. Legally, the bank should be able to exchange however many coins you needed but the problem is, they don’t have enough.

It is just one example of the many problems here with the city in general. But waiting in line for half an hour just for 5 pesos seems to be nothing to Argentines because they have to deal with trámites everydays. Trámites are like transactions/steps and for things like paying for electricity or doing anything with the government, Argentines have to wait in a huge line only to get a receptionist who tells them they need to go to window 5, then a huge line at window 5 only to have a representative telling them need to go submit a certain form to desk 8. They get to desk 8, they fill out the form (if they are unlucky, there might be no more forms and need to go to another window to ask for more) only to realize they need documents A, B, and C. Well, that’s swell because they might have never been notified of such requirement and need to come back tomorrow, only to start the whole process again.

That’s trámites for you, and it’s part of Argentine life. My half an hour at a bank does not even count as a part of the process but it’s already wearing me out.

First Week and demas

(I am currently watching “Los Simpsons” in my host family’s house )

So I arrived in Buenos Aires this Wednesday and it has been rather lovely. My connecting flight from Texas to BsAs was delayed for like 5 hours, so I didn’t get to leave until 2 am. I got in around 2pm in the afternoon and Jorge, my designated taxi driver, picked me up. He was such a pleasant Argentine, rather round, with a goofy smile. Right when we left the airport, we were attacked by “a mafia of taxi drivers (as Jorge calls them),” and thank god that Jorge was there to fend them off with his perfect castellano.

Buenos Aires is a city of apartments; it rather reminded me a lot of China with its tall, raised apartment buildings and clothing lines outside. My host family lives in Palmero/Recoletta, which are the nicest neighborhoods in BsAs. I am not sure why they are considered wealthy because the buildings were not as beautiful as the ones in central city, but I do feel very safe walking around it.

I have a host mother and a host daughter, who is a lovely girl. She’s very vocal, which is great for me to practice my Spanish. On my first day, I just slept for like 12 hours. And the next day, I woke up at one in the afternoon and for breakfast, I had hot chocolate con leche, which is sweeter than regular American hot chocolate. I dipped in it some sweet pastries. Argentines don’t eat a lot for breakfast (either do they for other meals), but that breakfast was rather too sugary for me.

I then walked down Avenida Santa Fe, which is one of the longest streets in Buenos Aires and has many, many, many different types of stores/cafes/restaurants. People in Buenos Aires adhere to the definition of “window shopping” like no other as there are so many display items in the windows that people really had reason go inside the store unless they want to buy something. I bought a leather wallet and the sales lady told me that to know if something is real leather, you need to smell it. If it smells like a cow, then it is real. I also bought a copy of Borge’s “Ficciones” because I want to read his short story “El Sur.” It is about Buenos Aires.

After shopping, I went to a cafeteria below my host family’s apartment, which is one of the millions upon millions of little coffee shops in Buenos Aires. It was a lovely place, filled with chatty ladies. I ordered a cup of wine, which only cost 2 dollars around here.

On Friday, I went down to Avenida de Mayo, which is the central street on which all the government buildings/political NGOs are located. I was supposed to meet with my boss at 1pm but having arrived at 11am, I went inside this restaurant for a cup of coffee to pass time with a copy of the daily newspaper. Famous for its theatrical theme, the restaurant, called La Clac, is quaintly decorated with pictures of past actors/actresses, movie posters, and newspaper clippings. I ordered a cup of coffee, and the size of the cup was that of three thumbs. It was so freaking tiny that it looked something for an overweight Barbie. Apparently that the typical size because Argentine coffee is a lot stronger than American Starbucks, which according to my mother, is like agua. The menu of the restaurant was rather interesting has it had the names of television programs and movies as its dish names. I sat there for like 3 hours, studying the menu with my trusty dictionary. The waitresses thought I was a spectacle.

After the meeting with my boss, I discovered my work schedule is from 2pm to 6pm everyday. And actually, they don’t have a place for me yet the new office is not done yet (it was supposed to be done by the beginning of May, but by Argentine time, that means September). So for now, I am just going into the office like 3 days a week for a tiny bit of time. It’s pretty sweet.

On Saturday, after sleeping until noon again, I went the Latino Americano Art Museum with some of the Yale Law School students who were here. We then walked for an hour in this neighborhood called Palermo, which is just dripping with wealth, for lunch at a place called Café 69 (or was it Café 6, I can’t remember). The place was packed at 3:30pm, you know, the normal time for lunch. For 15 bucks, I had some fish and grilled vegetables. After dinning until 6pm, you know, the normal time to finish lunch, I took a subte (or the subway) back, bought some groceries, and then went out again for dinner with the Bulldogs people at Siga La Vaca. It is an all-you-can-eat restaurant filled with beef, beef, and more beef. We ate until 11pm, and as we were about to leave, Argentines were just barely coming in for dinner. Oh, you know, the normal time for dinner.

We then wanted to go to this random concert in La Boca, which is a rather sketchy neighborhood. But what we did not know was that it was soooooooooo sketchy and dangerous, the taxi driver refuses to take us there. “muy feo” he kept on repeating, and something about it was too dangerous for him to drive there. None of us were wiling to go some place that a local did not event want to go (never mind the face we are paying him to drive us) so we all called it a night at 1am.

On Sunday, I went to la Plaza Recoleta, which has an entire mall dedicated to home decorating. There were sooooo many people buying the most random crap for their homes. There was also an outside artisan fair – pretty nice stuff. For dinner, I had beef…again.

And today (Monday) was my first day of work, from 2pm to 6pm. It was cold as it was raining. I had beef for lunch…again.

4 Days Before Leaving - Packing/whatnot

So I think I was more excited about the trip when I was writing all these cover letters to different NGOs in Argentina and applying for different fellowships to pay for it. Now that it is really close to the date of my departure, I really don't want to go. I am having little panic attacks left and right, like "oh gosh, would that taxi person really pick me up," or "oh dear, I hope this whole planning thing is not a scam," or "darn it, what happens if I don't understand a word that they are saying and I am supposed to do a research project on their judicial system?!!!!"

In comparison, the trip to China last summer was such a breeze. My mother was there to pick me up from the airport as she left the US before I did; I had relatives in every city; I had an actual American program that I was part of; I made automatic friends through them; I had my friends from second grade there; and I spoke the freaking language. Dude, I really hope Argentina treats me well - crossing my fingers!

Oh dear...

The website for my organization has been down for the past week, and their email addresses have not been able to receive any emails. I really do hope it's still operating. Oh please let it operate because if not, then I am on my own, completely. Damn.

Would it be that bad, though?