A gripe on the populous

In some ways, it would be fair to call could call Argentina a dirty place. This applies to the air pollution, the fact that nobody curbs their dogs, and most certainly the politics. After a busy and fun week in Chicago (post coming when I get around to it), we returned to Buenos Aires to find that the entire country was gripped with a fever of concern over the Influenza H1N1 (aka swine flu or gripe porcina). 80% of local news coverage is devoted to it, and suddenly major precautions are being taken. This was an abrupt change. When we left, there were a few mentions of the issue, but nobody was taking it very seriously.

I've been here long enough to say that Argentina is my home. As Josh eloquently put it, I'm living in Argentina, not just having a brief jaunt around the world. And as you can hopefully tell from the rest of this blog, I really love it here. But of course there are things I wish were different. The interesting thing is, nearly everything that's wrong with this country is evinced by this situation with swine flu.

Some of you may recall that over my first five months in town, I got sick six times. It was a steady practice of bedrest with a whole lot of nose blowing mixed in. I attributed it mainly to the probable slew of germs new to my immune system mixed with my attempts at living the Argentine lifestyle of staying out later than the moon and stars every weekend. While these were likely the main causes, other factors were likely culprits as well. The level of preventative hygiene, particularly surrounding food and drinks is completely different here. And by different, I mean lower. People regularly drink from the same glasses, or when sharing mate, the same straw. Same goes for food. For instance, I recently saw employees at Blockbuster sharing a half-kilo of ice cream and only using one spoon between the three of them. It's part of the charm. There's just no premium on cleanliness here. I can't count the number of times a waiter has put my fork on the table by holding the tines directly in their fingers. I'm not exactly Howie Mandel, but I have been accused of being a bit of a germ freak before. While these saliva-sharing habits gave me the willies a bit at first, I readily embraced the new culture and hoped for the best. And yes, I was sick six times early on, but I've been healthy since Christmas and haven't changed my habits.

So I was extremely curious about all the new behavior that greeted my return from Chicago. Before we were allowed to deplane, everyone had to don surgical masks and hand a form saying we had no symptoms to two young ladies wearing white labcoats. Then we were allowed to remove the masks.

Deemed clean enough.

While this was a rather cursory check that wouldn't stop anyone who wouldn't readily volunteer their condition anyway, when I got to the office later that day, I was surprised to see some major changes. Alcochol-based hand disenfectant had been dstributed to every room in the building. Signs were posted in the building instrucing people on how to wash their hands, and why it is so bloody important. Not only that, people were actually doing it a lot more than before. Some refused to shake hands or even greet in the normal kissing fashion. When someone on the streets would sneeze or cough, others would jump away as if they were spilling sulfuric acid before casting dirty looks at the person who was obviously trying to maliciously murder the whole country.

Employees anywhere and those without jobs should really be doing this kind of thing anyway.

But why such a sudden change? The conventional wisdom is that with an impending election, the government hid the real figures from the public regarding how many cases of swine flu had occurred. The original indications were that there had only been a handful of cases, but after the election they released the "real" numbers and suddenly there were 60 reported deaths. This conventional wisdom falls in line with others such as the government-published rate of inflation versus the figures presented by independent organizations. While inflation is one thing, this is a whole different level. How can the government in a country with a large population of people who live at very low income levels be so craven on such an important and dangerous issue? In the elections, the reigning party got beat pretty badly, so it either didn't work or people have become fed up with them.

But all of this leads to the more important question of whether they are still lying about the numbers now. Rumors abound, and there are wide opinions on every side of the issue. Some say "it's all a show, this is no big deal." But others are legitimately worried because they have connections to some who have gotten sick or died. Honestly, we really don't know what to believe. My opinion is that things are overstated, and some other news event will soon knock the swine flu off the front pages. But I know some very intelligent and educated folks who are taking every precaution and very nervous about the situation. I always washed my hands before eating and after riding on the colectivo, so other than making sure I get a morning orange juice more frequently I haven't changed my behavior or outlook very much. This too shall pass.

The sad thing about all of this is the reaction of the citizens. They should be outraged. Don't get me wrong, it's not like George Bush didn't pull this kind of crap all the time with the terrorist threat level, but even he and Cheney didn't intentionally go this far. The government put everyone living here in serious jeapoardy to score some political points. But when I ask about it, most of my friends and coworkers smile, shrug, and say "It's Argentina." They are resigned to put up with this kind of thing because they just assume that whoever would step in to replace the current leaders would do an equally terrible job. Nobody thinks the politics will improve no matter who's in charge. OK, so maybe there's no hope for the political future of Argentina (at least, nobody ever seems to have any), but will the hand-washing be a permanent change? And maybe restaurants can clean the silverware every now and again? After all, we pay just to sit down. This extranjero would really appreciate at least some good to come of this, and the overall improvement in health of a nation would be ideal. I'm not optimistic, but just in case I'm keeping my fingers crossed (and clean).

The last abnormal ramble

After enough time abroad, you're not really abroad anymore. Most of my friends who preceded me in a move to a random foreign country were very connected to their home life for the first six months. I was the same. Look at how the postings have dwindled lately. In my case, the job is playing a large role. June is the busy season around here, something nobody really told me about ahead of time. But more than that, the difficult thing is that your life abroad just becomes your life. You don't remember what's different about the new country you're living in - and probably things back home would seem strange if you went back to face them again. So this may be my last post in a long time about "those wacky South American things." Because after this, I can't tell the difference anyway. So without further ado, here are some quick hitters...

I've gotten pretty good at closing doors to taxis. This would seem like a simple process, but I was universally hollered at every time I got out of a cab for the first six months or so. It took me a while to even figure out why. The thing is, these cab doors are always really flimsy. They don't make the big gas guzzlers like we have in the states. They might as well be adobes. Plus, since I'm a big strong dude (at least by Argentine standards), I couldn't help it. Finally, I've managed to find my touch with the doors and have learned how to cierre suave. In fact, sometimes I start so weak I have to close it again. Yay me.

I had been seeing these signs all over town and had no idea what they were:

Clarence Beeks is running!

Apparently they're school crossings, but it's a bit goofy, no? I suppose the kid has a briefcase in his hand, but do you know any kids who take their briefcase with them to school? It could also be a boombox or perhaps a really big sandwich. Anyway I don't exactly see the drivers slowing down when they encounter one of these.

For the first time in my life, I have a maid who comes to clean my house. While I'm sure my mom would not approve (because these are things I should be able to do myself), the fact that she comes once a week, spends five or six hours in the apartment, and only costs 50 pesos per visit (current street value: 13 bucks), it's hard to pass the opportunity up. The thing is, both the maid at my house and the people who handle cleaning at work don't exactly do a phenomenal job. The bathroom and kitchen are relatively clean, but it's not exactly the overhaul I would like (yes, 13 bucks - I'm not complaining). The biggest thing is that they tend to rearrange things that don't need rearranging. OK, in my house maybe that makes sense. She's paid to clean the place, and if she has the urge to move one set of T-shirts to some other random drawer, who am I to complain? But at the office, the cleaners are constantly moving papers into different piles and onto different desks. In Schaumburg, the papers (those who've worked with me know there are always some piles) were always untouched, but not here. I find this more strange than unnerving, but shouldn't they be cleaning up the medialuna crumbs instead of trying to help me with my filing system?

A friend recently had a new daughter and immediately had her ears pierced. I knew they did this in India, but didn't know that it was common in any Western cultures, but here pretty much everyone does it. Also, they frequently shave the newborn baby's head because it's a "cleaner look." This is something I'm not close to getting used to.

There are a lot of US shows and movies that are very popular here. That's probably no surprise. The Simpsons trumps everything, although Friends is quite close - especially with the women. That said, I was very, very surprised to find the following array of DVD packs together on the shelf in a local bookstore:

Did you know there were four Critters movies? Did you also know that I'd rather watch them than the OC?

Any and all public construction projects take forever here. Yet it is not uncommon to see people working well into Saturday night on a new sidewalk or underground pipes. The most egregious example I saw was when they repaved the street around the corner from me. We had similar problems in Chicago. My friend Steve used to say that it appeared that the guy who comes to strip away the old street always forgets to tell the guy who's supposed to come and put down the new street that he's done his job. But here, it's like they don't even know that each other exist. I think it took over three months to get the new street put down. Yet the new high-rise next door to my apartment is going up in a real hurry. I hope it's structurally sound.

I haven't talked much in this space about mate because until recently I didn't drink it much. Thanks to the visit to Villa General Belgrano and under Belu's tutelige, I've become a fan. Mate is an herbal tea that is generally served in a hollowed out gourd and sucked down with a metal straw called a bombilla. It has a slightly bitter, but very natural flavor. The cool thing about mate is that it is meant to be shared amongst friends. The mate is filled with the herbs first (yerba) and then with hot water. Once a person has finished the water contained therein they pass the mate to the next person. It's got quite a kick and once you develop a taste for it, coffee seems less appealing. Here's a guy talking about his way of preparing mate:


Everyone here uses graph paper. I have yet to see a notebook with standard lined paper. And I'm totally used to that now. Also, they have been taught here that there are only six continents. North and South America are part of a joined big one. Doesn't that kind of blow your mind? Kind of like this

"Where's Waldo" is called "Donde está Wally?"

My team recently moved from the extremely posh office (universally believed to be the nicest office building in Buenos Aires) to the main Nielsen office. That was obviously a bummer for us, but the company is going to save a ton of money thanks to the move. There is one thing, however, I will not miss form that place. The stall door in the bathroom in the old office wouldn't just creak, it sounded like a train wreck that could be heard across the entire floor. It was pretty much like you were declaring: "Hey everybody! I'm gonna take a dump now!" Then, when you finished your business and opened the door again, the same screeching noise: "Hey everybody! I'm finished with my dump!" Also, it nearly locked you in there every time. So your post-dump announcement could come pretty late. The move-out day was really surreal. People came to buy all the furniture that hadn't already been moved out. It was a ghost-town of an office, only we were still working in it. I can't imagine what that must feel like for people when their business actually shuts down. Anyway, the new place is not nearly as nice, but at least you can use the bathroom without such a public declaration of your activities.

Last but not least, here's an ad from a publication we saw in Villa General Belgrano. I think it speaks for itself.

Translation: You find quality in Dick House

Tearing it up for another year

For me, the new year has always had certain connotations. Either a ski trip or, more likely, a frigid night featuring the overconsumption of alcohol followed by watching Michigan lose in the Rose Bowl. The new settings bring all kinds of changes. Well, except for the alcohol thing. But before getting to all of that, I want to talk about a local year-end tradition that proved far more fun than I had anticipated. On the last business day of the year (for some that is 12/30, for others, 12/31), the employees gather together to throw papers out of their windows. It's a little childish and stupid, but then again, so is high school. It's a pretty neat sight to see full sheets of office paper dancing their way to the ground, flipping back and forth, reflecting the bright sunlight.In my office, we're fortunate enough to have a balcony (on the 21st floor!), and cautious enough to shred our paper before we eject it to the waiting streets below. This event is simply referred to as "papelitos" (little papers) and the entire downtown is showered in them for two solid days.

Nico's handful went right in my face a split-second later

Another local tradition is that when someone graduates from school, their friends and family assault them with eggs, mustard, mayonnaise, and all kinds of other kitchen-appropriate substances. Two women from the office recently completed their studies, so they got the egg treatment, courtesy of a VP that is about to move to the US. His technique needs some work, though, as he splattered his own shirt a bit in the process.

He doesn't seem too upset about it, does he?

New Years Eve was spent with friends from Ultimate Frisbee at a pot-luck party. Belu and I tried to make a traditional Argentine holiday dish called pionono. It consists of a thin cake-like substance rolled with savory food inside. Our three versions - avocado-corn-cheese, tuna-olive-egg, tomato-pickle-cheese. The tuna one worked out the best, and people dug into the avocado as well. The tomato - a bit too loose and wet, but we'll take another crack at it again sometime. Also, since we had a spare pionono left over, we threw together a dessert one with dulce de leche and crumbled up chocolate cookies. People said they liked 'em, which means my first Argentine cooking was a success!

Awaiting the roll

Precut Pionono

There's not much left (same with Martín's onion tart)

After watching fireworks from the rooftop, we hit the town without a real plan. 25 of us wandered San Telmo, coming across an impromptu percussion performance in which stopped us dead in our tracks and had just about everybody dancing. I made the error of toting a bottle of Fernet, a bitter spirit normally mixed with cola, and alternately drinking and sharing it straight. Note, I can safely say at this point, that this is not a recommended practice. Fernet con cola is an acquired taste to say the least, but Fernet solo is one considerably more unattainable. Just trust me. Also, I learned that Fernet is really, really strong. After the square, we hit Museum, one of the larger venues in San Telmo and danced until late. All in all, a great night, even if I couldn't quite remember everything once it was over.

I must bid a fond farewell to new friend Arturo whose presence here has been a huge boon to both me and my roommate, Josh. Arturo's apartment was always party-central where people from seemingly all over the world would get together before or after hitting the town. Plus, he introduced me to Belu, so I find myself quite indebted to the man. Arturo's position here was discontinued and he has headed back home to California.

I know it's BFC in Chicago right now, but here the temps keep climbing. Good thing I have a pool I never use. In fact, it's getting so hot here that the cartoneros (people who pick through the trash to sort out the recyclable materials) are generally going topless. No, I don't think this one did that in her day.

The other day, I saw an older man eating an Alfajor at 8:15 in the morning on the sidewalk, presumably right outside the kiosko where he purchased it. This isn't exactly news, but it made me smile.

Further update on the previously mentioned moneda crisis, this time in the Wall Street Journal. This dude's opinion --> Privatize! Yay! He goes on to say that the same thing happened in England over 200 years ago, and they privatized and it worked great! Ups - then he corrects himself and says it didn't end up working at all. My friend Emiliano told me that they are planning to get a card system for the buses thanks to decree by the government, which, actually, should solve the entire problem right quickly. I should also note that this WSJ guy doesn't even know what the coins are called (he thinks they're centavos).
(HT for the above stories - DaVe)

A taxi driver told me I had a French accent. I don't know if that means it's getting better or worse, but it surely means I'm trying. Maybe by next New Years, I'll be taken for a Porteño. Fingers crossed...

How I learned the word garganta

As anticipated, I have fallen way behind on my blogging here. Actually, I've fallen way behind on my blogging everywhere - this is space only one of the casualties. Fighting the Youth and Road Games continue to saunter forward and one day I'll get my act together and put everything in a common location, but for the time being, let's keep things a-rollin'...

After returning from Monte Hermoso, I came down with an illness. Nothing major. A slight temperature and I missed a day of work. Unfortunately, the cough lingered for two more weeks after which I was struck with a stabbing pain in my throat. The pain was accompanied by a general feeling of weakness and was debilitating enough that a trip to the doctor was deemed necessary. They have socialized medicine here, and also they don't. Um, what I mean is, they definitely do, but if you have the right insurance plan, you get to pick your choice of hospital and doctor. Lucky for me, my company has set me up with the good insurance plan. Again, I have no idea how all this works (and my company apparently doesn't know my name because the insurance is listed under Adrew Reed). Not having a doctor of my own, the emergency room was the easiest place to get one. I always dread trips to the ER because it always means you're going to be there for at least two hours. But I quickly bounced from the triage to the clerk who presented me with this bill:

That's right - 0.00, but it's much cheaper when you convert to dollars...

From there, I had to wait for my number to come up on the big board - like at a busy hardware store, only it wasn't busy, so I was called very quickly. The doctor took a quick look at my throat, said, "Tenés infección en tu garganta. Antibioticos." He then sent me on my way, prescription in hand. All in all, the entire visit took about 15 minutes. That's amazing. Perhaps it was a slow day being that it was Christmas Eve and all, but whatever the reason, I was totally impressed. So my first warm Christmas was spent in bed, trying to recuperate. Unfortunately, the pain and weakness didn't pass and I returned to the hospital again on Saturday, just in case. Finally the antibiotics kicked in Saturday night and I began to feel whole again.

But don't expect me to complain that I'm only picking up bad germs here. As I've mentioned previously, I've met a ton of incredibly cool people here. Furthermore, one of those people turned out to be a beautiful porteña named Belu who I can now proudly call my girlfriend. Without her, I'm sure I would surely have never figured out the health care system here, let alone countless other recent dilemmas. In sum, she's great and I feel really lucky to have met her. Surely there will be more postings (and eventually some photos - I promise) where she figures prominently.

I recently joined an Ultimate Frisbee team. The team is brand, spanking new, so you could argue that I helped found a team, but that would be really misleading as I've done zero heavy lifting at this point. So far, we're seven strong, and the enthusiasm, organization and dedication shown by the members has been impressive. This is my first regular team since my last campaign with Dirty Thirty, way back in spring of '07. There are now three teams in the whole of Argentina, so there's hope that this will help build the popularity here. Our name is Big Red which is a double-ententre as "red" means network en español. Expect many updates on the progress in the future. For now, we're still forging everything, but have hopes for rapid development and great big fun, too. For me, I still need to get my throws back, but the practices will surely help with that.

With a shoutout to all my Nebraska and Wisconsin homies!

I'm kind of a fast walker. OK, that's not true. I'm one of the fastest walkers on the planet and various friends and family often complain about it. I've got long legs and I just can't wait to get places. What can I do? Some people here walk more quickly, some don't, but the strange thing is how they manage to spread themselves out all across the sidewalk. Inevitably, if you are trying to walk past someone, they are in your way. My theory is that people walk this way because the roads are exactly the same. Lanes markings are mere suggestions, and whenever possible, drivers prefer to get in each other's way. It's a chicken-and-egg scenario. I have no idea if people drive the way they walk or vice-versa. I generally don't let this bother me, but there is one place where it drives me bonkers. I used to love going to the grocery store, but here it's always an unnerving proposition. People leave their carts right in your way and have never move them for you. They will wander right in front of you as you peruse the shelves, too.

Actually, that problem pales in comparison to the delays in the checkout aisle. The other day, I waited in the checkout line for 33 minutes. I timed it. I should note that when I got in line, I was 4th, and only one of the people in front of me had a full cart. Also, this was surely the fastest line available. I can't imagine how much this is harming the Argentine economy, but if it happens nationwide every time someone buys groceries, you can imagine that it adds up to a colossal amount of wasted time. I keep planning to do my shopping online, but haven't managed to figure that out yet. Maybe that can be a new year's resolution...

We'll finish up today with a brief discussion of Los Pitufos. Pitufos are the Spanish-language version of The Smurfs. But they don't throw the word "pitufo" into every sentence which kind of ruins the fun, right? The interesting thing is that many people here belive that the Pitufos represent the Seven Deadly Sins, and that Gargamel is actually a monk who is trying to take care of them for the good of all humanity.I guess you can see how this would go:

• Lust = Smurfette
• Gluttony = Greedy Smurf
• Greed = uh, also Greedy Smurf?
• Pride = Vanity Smurf
• Envy = Nosy Smurf
• Wrath = Grouchy Smurf
• Sloth = Dreamy Smurf or Lazy Smurf

I'm having trouble buying it because Azrael was clearly an agent of evil. That cat was one mean muthascratcher. But either way, thanks to the doctors, drugs, and girlfriend, I'm feeling smurfy again and look forward to the start of '09! See you then, chiquilinos!

Can't Stop Climbing

I'm not gonna lie. It's been a good week, and I'm having good feelings. After fourteen long months, much physical pain, and countless hours of rehab, I finally got back on the horse and played some Ultimate thanks to a Halloween tournament here in BA. It was such a thrill to get back out there and run. Of course, since all of my possessions remain stuck in customs, I had to play without cleats. That may not have been the best idea with a reconstructed knee, but at least I had my brace. I had a pretty scary feeling wipeout early on due to the lack of traction, but either the knee is fully functional or the brace did its job, because I popped right up and kept running. I felt more surprised at that then the fall. So I gotta give both Dr. Palutsis and Mary at Athletico two big thumbs up. And one for me, too. I’ve worked pretty hard in my own right. My throws were a bit rusty, but generally in the vicinity of their targets and flutter-free. My team went 2-0 before I called it a night, not wanting to overdo it on the first day. Of course, all the Frisbee folks were friendly as hell. Even though half were Americans (four from Chicago), nearly everyone spoke Spanish all day. I remain more convinced than ever that it's the greatest game on the planet. I can't wait to get out there next week, hopefully with cleats, dammit!

Good people, as always

On that point, word came through today that I am to receive my held-up belongings this Wednesday. I was all set to write that I have really gone from patience to pissed. Not having my stuff is affecting so many things. No bed is killing my back and my sleep. No clothes is killing my urge to get dressed in the morning. No stereo is killing my groove, and no running shoes is killing my endurance. There are so many little things that are affected by the absence of my stuff. One of the biggest is that Josh and I have to split time on the internet. We can't both use it at the same time and have to pass a cord back and forth, taking turns all the way. This has been a serious stress on the home front. We spend all our time in the smallest room in the apartment, eating, working, socializing, always in front of our laptops. Especially when you consider the close quarters, we’re getting along really well. If the reports are to be believed, my things arrive on Wednesday. I’m inclined to believe them this time, though. Maybe.

I put up a post over at Fighting The Youth about the election. Check it out here. But a gabber like me can’t be limited to just one political espousal this week. Like all of you, I have a ton on my mind. Being unemployed for half of 2008 led to my spending far too much time on this election, but I couldn’t help it. It was far too compelling

I think back to a restless night four years ago. Come Tuesday I had, perhaps naively, gotten my hopes up about Kerry actually winning. When the election returns were limping in, all the networks refused to call Ohio. With the TV flickering away into the night, I was lying in bed, knowing in the back of my mind that Bush would be declared the winner, but unable to fall asleep and unable to turn off the television. I eventually bothered to change the channel to an infomercial for a big ladder. And I still couldn't sleep at all. Occasionally, feeble hopes led me to bounce back to the election coverage only to learn that there was no change. It was a miserable feeling, but not because I thought we were that much more screwed. I knew Bush had already done his worst and that maybe if we had another four years with him, people would pay enough attention that they'd figure out who the real Bushy was (the slightest sliver of a silver lining). It was more that my country was so embarrassingly stupid as to vote for this buffoon and his band of criminals again. I was equal parts sad for us and really angry at us. For me, the indelible image of election night, 2004 is a big ladder. I hate that ladder.

The Porteños here keep telling me that I must be happy because they’re watching the news and the election is in the bag. I’m terrified of deluding myself again. I don’t want to let myself believe. As a statistician, I have great faith in the idea of polls, but I don’t know the guys running ‘em, and you never know what the Diebold factor will be this year. I was told I’d get all my stuff from customs two weeks ago, too.

But there’s that Hope thing.

I referenced this once before, but last year I saw the best that American partisanship has to offer. Good-natured ribbing, joking, and prejudice. College football games, particularly rivalries are damn important. I wouldn’t be writing a book about them if they weren’t. But obviously this election is at a totally different level. This is literally life and death, peace and war, prosperity and poverty. And even the most vociferous of college football nut has at his foundation a respect for the camaraderie of those who share his passion. When it comes to America, we haven’t seen that in my lifetime. Honestly, I’m 33 years old, and I still remember a kid being chased around the playground the day after the 1984 election because he publicly admitted he was a Mondale guy. We were nine. I kept my trap shut for fear of similar treatment. My parents raised me to care about this stuff, and I always have. But I’ve never seen a candidate like Barack Obama.

If he is elected tomorrow, it will be with a different kind of mandate. He has ridden a crest of populism that I’ve never witnessed in America. People didn’t fall under his spell because he’s a slick talker, or because he’s cool, or because he’s a black man. He pinned the success of his campaign on the faith of the American people to believe that we can do better. That we can win with honesty and integrity, even though that’s never worked before. If it couldn't work, then he wouldn’t work. But America was ready for it. And now he knows he must deliver. Of all the moments in this election splayed across the Youtubes, the one that keeps coming back to me was when Obama addressed his staff in Chicago after he finally vanquished Hillary Clinton. He put it to them simply: “We have to win.” Had he lost to another Democrat, maybe they would have gone on and helped with all those issues the people gathered in that office cared about. But lose now, and education, the environment, the war in Iraq, the war on terror, health care reform and everything else would have to wait another four years. That’s quite a statement, and I believe he believed it.

More than anything else, it’s that different mandate that gives me faith in the man. He knows what’s at stake beyond the issues. If he breaks the trust of the American people via corruption, ignorance, or incompetence, our nation will never get over it. Maybe this is all just feeling. And maybe I’m being naïve again. But if America feels it too, after a long march into one of the darkest pits in our history, then that’s the first step in the right direction. I know where we can get a good ladder if we need a boost.
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And if for some reason things don’t go our way, I can always just cook this up for dinner in Buenos Aires every night for the rest of my life:

Yes. That says Barfy. And it's for people. To Eat.

You know what, fuck it. GOBAMA. GO AMERICA! Come on, people. We need this one this time. WE CANNOT LOSE!