Guitars create good vibes, no?. I really think it's universal. No matter where you are, if you're sitting around with a group of friends and someone whips out a guitar the beer just starts to taste better. You get that glowy feeling - what a simple and straightforward form of entertainment! (well, unless the person with the guitar refuses to share it, or veers straight off into heavy metal territory...)
Last night what was looking to be an average night of a meal out and then back home early took a turn for the musical when we decided to meet up with friends of friends. El Negrito, one of those friends of friends, is a folk singer and musician from Misiones, a province in the northern part of the country, near the border with Brazil. And he travels almost everywhere with his guitar on his back.
We met them on the steps of a bank on Santa Fe, and were about to set up shop right then and there with a couple of bottles of beer, but the glare of the policeman patrolling the block made us move on to Plan B. But there just happened to be a cafe/bar across the street, completely empty, with a couple of inviting tables outside. Perfect.
We hadn't even drained the first round when El Negrito took out his guitar. (FYI: Yes, El negrito means " little black guy." But he's not black. Nor is this as insulting as it would be in English. Though calling someone un negro can certainly be a racist slur depending on the context, it can also be an afectionate nickname amongst Argentines. Also compared to the tall blonds that make up the rest of his family, which is of German ancestry, he got the chromosomes for dark hair and dark skin. So the nickname sort of works.)
He sang and played Argentinian folklore, po p songs and some Brazilian standards too. When a freak thunderstorm started ( oh so common in hot, humid Buenos Aires) we just moved the party inside, got the waiter to turn off the radio and picked up where we'd left off. Of course the policeman that was supposed to be patrolling the neighbourhood was drinking coffee and chatting with the waiter. Though I think they were sort of enjoying their FM pop hits, they grinned and beared the impromptu concert, and more importantly, the waiter kept up the flow of cold beer.
El negrito answered all my nerdy questions about the particularities and regional differences in Argentinian folk music and its origins and instrumentations. I'm preparing for a big trip to a great speciality CD store a friend told me about to stock up on the variety of sounds of this country.
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Monday, December 25, 2006
Merry Christmas everybody!
Merry Christmas to one and all!
I have to say that this year I'm having the most UN-Christmassy holiday ever. Not just because it's so hot that egg nog would curdle ( that is, if you could actually buy it down here.) But because I picked up some kind of bug on the 23rd and spent the last two days in bed, drinking tea, toast and steamed rice. I had to bail on my invites for Christmas eve dinner and the all-night multimedia electronic music/art/dance party that was to follow.
But may be it was for the better; I couldn't be too homesick for turkey and shortbread cookies when the thought of eating anything left me totally nauseated...
But I should be back in form for New Year's. Which is good, because I have a feeling New Year's in Buenos Aires will be pretty wild.
Best wishes to everyone!
I have to say that this year I'm having the most UN-Christmassy holiday ever. Not just because it's so hot that egg nog would curdle ( that is, if you could actually buy it down here.) But because I picked up some kind of bug on the 23rd and spent the last two days in bed, drinking tea, toast and steamed rice. I had to bail on my invites for Christmas eve dinner and the all-night multimedia electronic music/art/dance party that was to follow.
But may be it was for the better; I couldn't be too homesick for turkey and shortbread cookies when the thought of eating anything left me totally nauseated...
But I should be back in form for New Year's. Which is good, because I have a feeling New Year's in Buenos Aires will be pretty wild.
Best wishes to everyone!
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Green Christmas
It's not that it's so weird to celebrate a green Christmas. In the past I've spent parts of my Christmas vacation in Southern climes. What's weird is that having been down here since September, I've missed out on the whole Christmas build-up. Walking into Zellers the day after Hallowe'en and seeing the decorations; the gradual infiltration of public spaces with Christmas music; lights on houses and in the streets; Christmas concerts and recitals, parties and events; and then as the day approaches, the media running reports on this year's hottest toy or how long the lines are at the Halifax Shopping Centre. Down here this build-up is conspicuously absent.
It's still a big deal. But not THAT big of a deal. Here Christmas is a day off work ( only one or two!), an excuse to get together with family and friends to eat and drink, and most importantly, it symbolizes the beginning of summer. And the heavy emphasis on consumption is quite absent.
In America del Norte, you wouldn't think of holding an event on the 23rd or 28th of December unless it was specifically Christmas related, because everyone's so busy with Xmas no one will show up. Here, it's no big deal. The average person probably has the 25th off, but the 26th isn't a holiday here, so it's back to work for the whole week between Christmas and New Year's.
There's the minimal of Christmas decorations; trees (fake, of course), wreathes, Santa hats, candles, but Christmas lights are few and far between. It's summer, so it doesn't get dark until after 9pm. No need to light up the long winter evenings like in the northern Hemisphere.
Sort of like Hallowe'en here, a North American approach to Xmas is mainly to be found in American chain stores and restaurants and malls. And depending on which average Argentine you talk to, they may view the whole "Dreaming of a white Christmas" with anything from indifference to bitterness. Santa in a snowsuit and heavy boots? Snowmen and reindeer? Polar bears drinking Coca-Cola? Much of the pop culture surrounding Christmas that originates in the Northern Hemisphere just doesn't apply down here. So multi-nationals arriving in Argentina and trying to propagate a Northern conception of what Christmas is just doesn't sit well.
And if you look a little closer, it becomes clear that the same multi-national corporations and companies that try to promote Christmas North American style aren't doing it because they think Argentines would better celebrate the birth of Jesus running around in Santa hats and scarves; it's that in trying to create a North American style Xmas, they hope to encourage the North American levels of consumption associated with the holiday.
But just like how the Saint Jean Baptiste or Canada Day long weekend marks the symbolic beginning of summer in Canada, Christmas in Argentina is when Argentines start to "think beach!" There's a mass exodus out of Buenos Aires to the Atlantic coast in January to beat the steamy city summer heat.
It's still a big deal. But not THAT big of a deal. Here Christmas is a day off work ( only one or two!), an excuse to get together with family and friends to eat and drink, and most importantly, it symbolizes the beginning of summer. And the heavy emphasis on consumption is quite absent.
In America del Norte, you wouldn't think of holding an event on the 23rd or 28th of December unless it was specifically Christmas related, because everyone's so busy with Xmas no one will show up. Here, it's no big deal. The average person probably has the 25th off, but the 26th isn't a holiday here, so it's back to work for the whole week between Christmas and New Year's.
There's the minimal of Christmas decorations; trees (fake, of course), wreathes, Santa hats, candles, but Christmas lights are few and far between. It's summer, so it doesn't get dark until after 9pm. No need to light up the long winter evenings like in the northern Hemisphere.
Sort of like Hallowe'en here, a North American approach to Xmas is mainly to be found in American chain stores and restaurants and malls. And depending on which average Argentine you talk to, they may view the whole "Dreaming of a white Christmas" with anything from indifference to bitterness. Santa in a snowsuit and heavy boots? Snowmen and reindeer? Polar bears drinking Coca-Cola? Much of the pop culture surrounding Christmas that originates in the Northern Hemisphere just doesn't apply down here. So multi-nationals arriving in Argentina and trying to propagate a Northern conception of what Christmas is just doesn't sit well.
And if you look a little closer, it becomes clear that the same multi-national corporations and companies that try to promote Christmas North American style aren't doing it because they think Argentines would better celebrate the birth of Jesus running around in Santa hats and scarves; it's that in trying to create a North American style Xmas, they hope to encourage the North American levels of consumption associated with the holiday.
But just like how the Saint Jean Baptiste or Canada Day long weekend marks the symbolic beginning of summer in Canada, Christmas in Argentina is when Argentines start to "think beach!" There's a mass exodus out of Buenos Aires to the Atlantic coast in January to beat the steamy city summer heat.
Friday, December 22, 2006
Today's prize for best random thing yelled to us on the street
Yelled to me and Jessica on the street last night by a random old man:
"Qué bonitas! Todo lo que les falta son las alas!"
Rough translation: How pretty you are! All you're missing are wings!
"Qué bonitas! Todo lo que les falta son las alas!"
Rough translation: How pretty you are! All you're missing are wings!
Barrio chino
I think every city in every part of the world has a Chinatown. Maybe it's just a couple of restaurants or stores or maybe it's dozens of blocks. Even the small town in Slovakia where I lived had one. Buenos Aires is no exception to this phenomenon. Chinatown is only 3 blocks long, but still. ( They're actually a " Koreatown" in a neighbourhood south of the city too, but that will be the subject of another entry..)
After listening to Bach's Christmas Oratorio in a gorgeous white granite church in Belgrano, me and my friend Cameron went to El Barrio Chino for something to eat. Nothing like a little Chinese food after some German music in a Spanish-style church in Buenos Aires.
The Chinatown Restaurant Aesthetic must be universal. Large, open space, bright lights, long tables. Chinese calendars or pictures on the walls. Maybe a lantern or two hanging from the ceiling, if you're lucky. The furniture and decoration emanating a functionality; like, we're here for good, cheap eats, not fancy cutlery.
They say Chinese restaurant owners adapt the food served in their establishment to the prevailing palatal idiosyncrasies of the region. Like your typical North American strip mall Chinese food is pretty sweet ( Chicken balls in plum sauce, anyone?) and I've heard Chinese food in India is full of spices. As far as I could discern, Argentine Chinese food was pretty similar to what you'd find in Chinatown in Montreal.
Though they didn't even give you the chopstick option- it was forks all the way.
As I walked into the restaurant I felt for a second as if I were in Chinatown in Montreal. Like a split second trip home.
(Sort of strange that it's the Chinese restaurant and not the Irish pub, or McDonald's, or Hooters, let's say, that spontaneously teleports me back to North America for a moment. Though maybe that's because I make it a rule avoid Irish pubs, McDonald's and Hooters like the plague.)
After listening to Bach's Christmas Oratorio in a gorgeous white granite church in Belgrano, me and my friend Cameron went to El Barrio Chino for something to eat. Nothing like a little Chinese food after some German music in a Spanish-style church in Buenos Aires.
The Chinatown Restaurant Aesthetic must be universal. Large, open space, bright lights, long tables. Chinese calendars or pictures on the walls. Maybe a lantern or two hanging from the ceiling, if you're lucky. The furniture and decoration emanating a functionality; like, we're here for good, cheap eats, not fancy cutlery.
They say Chinese restaurant owners adapt the food served in their establishment to the prevailing palatal idiosyncrasies of the region. Like your typical North American strip mall Chinese food is pretty sweet ( Chicken balls in plum sauce, anyone?) and I've heard Chinese food in India is full of spices. As far as I could discern, Argentine Chinese food was pretty similar to what you'd find in Chinatown in Montreal.
Though they didn't even give you the chopstick option- it was forks all the way.
As I walked into the restaurant I felt for a second as if I were in Chinatown in Montreal. Like a split second trip home.
(Sort of strange that it's the Chinese restaurant and not the Irish pub, or McDonald's, or Hooters, let's say, that spontaneously teleports me back to North America for a moment. Though maybe that's because I make it a rule avoid Irish pubs, McDonald's and Hooters like the plague.)
Full disclosure: I didn't actually see the smoking Chinese man in this picture when I was in Chinatown, ok?
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Piriápolis-apalooza part 2
So, after a couple of days in a tourist town, you begin to find the restaurants and bars where the locals go; where the food is cheap and good. Then you can avoid the places that serve over-priced, mediocre fare and half-heartedly try to recreate hip atmospheres for city-dwellers on vacation.
Last night, wandering around the wharf where all the fishing boats dock, we came across a little restaurant amongst a row of shacks selling fresh seafood. A couple of plastic tables outside on the side of the road. Nothing on the menu that doesn't involve fish - panfried, battered, seafood empanadas, mussels. And I guess when your restaurant is situated like 100m from the water, you cut out the middleman, because the prices were half what they would be 1km down the main drag. Mmm.
We ate well and needed it, because it had been frigging hot. 35C at 7pm. We stayed off the beach until 5pm when the sun's rays were a little weaker. I don't know if you can sunburn a sunburn, but we didn't want to find out if it was possible. Instead we went for a little hike up to Fuente del Toro. It's a fountain of a bull made by someone who supposedly studied with Rodin. The fountain ( though there's no water to be seen) is on the top of a mountain with great views of the ocean and surrounding hilly countryside. The forests here are full of eucaplytus; the pleasant smell helped distract us from the excruitiating heat on the way up the hill.
This morning we took the bus to Montevideo, in the rain. There were a group of teenagers in the bus station that had obviously been partying all night long, and were continuing the fiesta with pitchers of beer and bongos as they waited for their bus back to the city.
And now we're just wandering around the capital, waiting to take the ferry back to Argentina. Uruguay is a lot more laid back than Buenos Aires. But I guess we'll have a 3 hour ferry ride across the river toturn back into stressed -out city dwellers...
Last night, wandering around the wharf where all the fishing boats dock, we came across a little restaurant amongst a row of shacks selling fresh seafood. A couple of plastic tables outside on the side of the road. Nothing on the menu that doesn't involve fish - panfried, battered, seafood empanadas, mussels. And I guess when your restaurant is situated like 100m from the water, you cut out the middleman, because the prices were half what they would be 1km down the main drag. Mmm.
We ate well and needed it, because it had been frigging hot. 35C at 7pm. We stayed off the beach until 5pm when the sun's rays were a little weaker. I don't know if you can sunburn a sunburn, but we didn't want to find out if it was possible. Instead we went for a little hike up to Fuente del Toro. It's a fountain of a bull made by someone who supposedly studied with Rodin. The fountain ( though there's no water to be seen) is on the top of a mountain with great views of the ocean and surrounding hilly countryside. The forests here are full of eucaplytus; the pleasant smell helped distract us from the excruitiating heat on the way up the hill.
This morning we took the bus to Montevideo, in the rain. There were a group of teenagers in the bus station that had obviously been partying all night long, and were continuing the fiesta with pitchers of beer and bongos as they waited for their bus back to the city.
And now we're just wandering around the capital, waiting to take the ferry back to Argentina. Uruguay is a lot more laid back than Buenos Aires. But I guess we'll have a 3 hour ferry ride across the river toturn back into stressed -out city dwellers...
Friday, December 15, 2006
Piriápolis
Uruguay is probably one of the randomest places I've ever been. (Well, maybe second place after Slovakia.) Not random because of any particular characteristic of the place itself, but more because it's one of those places no one I know has ever gone, and before getting here I had no idea what to expect. ( Of course Uruguay, like Slovakia, is extremely popular with tourists from bordering countries, but Canadian tourists are fewer and farther between.) 
But I sort of like going to places where I have no expectations. Like, you go to Paris or London or New York, and you have a bit of an idea what the place looks like, and the kind of things you can end up seeing. And if it's not the way you imagined it, then you may be disappointed. But who's going to say to themself, "Wow, Strsbké Pleso is NOTHING like it is in the movies, what a disappointment!"Anyway, so here I am in Piriápolis, Uruguay, which is about 100km from Montevideo, the capital. It's on the Atlantic coast of Uruguay, aka the Gold Coast, which is lined with beaches for about 400km from Montevideo to the Brazilian border. The beaches aren't anything like tropical Caribbean beaches, or even like those found in Brazil, but they've got white sand and warmer water than the beaches in Argentina, Chile or Northern Nova Scotia.
At the last minute my German friend Martina decided to play hooky from the hospital where she's studying medecine in Buenos Aires and come with me. It's over 30C and like 110% humidity in Bs As so it wasn't too hard to convince her she needed to get out of the big city and get some ocean air.
After a heartattack-inducing close call getting on to the ferry, we made the 3 hour trip across the Río de la Plata from Buenos Aires to Colonia, Uruguay, and then took a bus to Montevideo and another bus to Piriápolis. It's a beach town, no doubt about it. Tons of hotels, touristy stores, and cheezy restaurants. But the high season doesn't start until January, so right now it's blissfully empty and quiet, and the prices are lower. We managed to just show up and find ourselves a very cheap and nice hotel, which I think would be impossible during the high season.
Today we spent the day on the beach. Really, just swimming, laying around, reading trashy magazines and eating snacks. One day and my only day, because as usual, despite the artistic and masterful job I did coating myself with sunscreen I managed to get burnt to a crisp. No really, all I need is a dog was trying to pull my pants off and I'd be the Waterbabies sunscreen girl. Damn you Scottish heritage! But tomorrow we're going to hike up Uruguay's 3rd tallest hills and eat some seafood emapanadas, so all is well.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Off to Uruguay!
Tomorrow I'm leaving for a long weekend in Uruguay. I'm taking the ferry from Buenos Aires to Colonia, then I'll travel by bus to Montevideo, and to a beach of some sort. There are lots of different beaches, ranging from seaside resorts with highrises all along the water to really deserted coves where you can see whales and other wildlife. I'll have to see what I'm in the mood for. I'll be really happy to be by the ocean for a little while. And also, to see what Uruguay's all about. If you ask a porteño, Uruguayn culture's no different than Argentinian culture, and they consider the country bsically an extension of Argentina. But heh, heh, we've heard that one before, eh? Canada being the 51st state of the US and all? So I'll have to ask a Uruguayan their opinion on the subject...
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Se murió!
For many it was justice finally being realized. General Augusto Pinochet died on Sunday at the age of 91. Some newspapers diplomatically describe him as "having ruled Chile with an iron fist between 1973 and 1989." But he was a military dictator, he was not democratically elected, and under his reign thousands of people were tortured, killed, or "disappeared".
It seemed really weird when all of a sudden, a couple of weeks ago, at 91 years of age, Pinochet publicly declared himself responsable for all the human rights abuses which took place while he was in power. I mean, he had been previously tried in international courts for similar things, but had walked for reasons of ill health or mental instability. Why would he admit responsability now? We were sure he must be about to die.
And he did. No sooner had my Chilean friend Alejandro and I logged into our accounts at the internet cafe on Sunday afternoon when his Messenger account started overflowed with messages from family and friends exclaming: "¡Se murió!" ( He's dead!) We watched images on Chilean TV of impromptu parties involing thousands and thousands of people in the streets of Santiago, of people celebrating the fact that though the courts hadn't been able to do it, some kind of justice had finally been carried out.
But we also saw images of people mourning Pinochet's death. Carrying candles and signs and pictures of "El tata", or Grandpa as he's called by his supporters, they gathered outside the Military hospital where he died. For some he's considered a great man and the father of modern Chile. They consider the internationally attested stories of human rights abuses nothing more than propaganda and that he stabilized the country's economy and saved it from ruin.
It's an issue that divides Chile to this day, though the numbers of Pinochet supporters seem to be fewer than his detractors. As exemplified in the debate over the funeral proceedings in his honour. As General and head of the military, he would receive military honours, this was for sure. But would he receive the honours usually reserved for ex-heads of state? He wasn't democratically elected, after all.
Thankfully, in my opinion, he didn't. The current President of Chile, Michelle Bachelet, along with her mother, had actually been victims of torture during the dictatorship. She therefore leads a government much less friendly with the military than former presidents. How much influence she personally had in the decision to deny him military honours, I don't know. But I think major riots by anti-Pinochetistas would have broken out if the decision had gone the other way.
Though some lament the fact that someone they consider to be a murderer got to die the kind of natural death denied to so many who were killed under his regime, Pinochet's death will hopefully allow some kind of healing for a country where the repercussions of the military dictatorship are still felt to this day.
(Here's a really good article in Spanish on the whole thing.)
It seemed really weird when all of a sudden, a couple of weeks ago, at 91 years of age, Pinochet publicly declared himself responsable for all the human rights abuses which took place while he was in power. I mean, he had been previously tried in international courts for similar things, but had walked for reasons of ill health or mental instability. Why would he admit responsability now? We were sure he must be about to die.
And he did. No sooner had my Chilean friend Alejandro and I logged into our accounts at the internet cafe on Sunday afternoon when his Messenger account started overflowed with messages from family and friends exclaming: "¡Se murió!" ( He's dead!) We watched images on Chilean TV of impromptu parties involing thousands and thousands of people in the streets of Santiago, of people celebrating the fact that though the courts hadn't been able to do it, some kind of justice had finally been carried out.
But we also saw images of people mourning Pinochet's death. Carrying candles and signs and pictures of "El tata", or Grandpa as he's called by his supporters, they gathered outside the Military hospital where he died. For some he's considered a great man and the father of modern Chile. They consider the internationally attested stories of human rights abuses nothing more than propaganda and that he stabilized the country's economy and saved it from ruin.
It's an issue that divides Chile to this day, though the numbers of Pinochet supporters seem to be fewer than his detractors. As exemplified in the debate over the funeral proceedings in his honour. As General and head of the military, he would receive military honours, this was for sure. But would he receive the honours usually reserved for ex-heads of state? He wasn't democratically elected, after all.
Thankfully, in my opinion, he didn't. The current President of Chile, Michelle Bachelet, along with her mother, had actually been victims of torture during the dictatorship. She therefore leads a government much less friendly with the military than former presidents. How much influence she personally had in the decision to deny him military honours, I don't know. But I think major riots by anti-Pinochetistas would have broken out if the decision had gone the other way.
Though some lament the fact that someone they consider to be a murderer got to die the kind of natural death denied to so many who were killed under his regime, Pinochet's death will hopefully allow some kind of healing for a country where the repercussions of the military dictatorship are still felt to this day.
(Here's a really good article in Spanish on the whole thing.)
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Bad Santa
Last night at about 2:30am we were out on the patio of a bar having a beer or two when we see a guy in a full Santa suit and mask coming across the street. Christmas isn't quite the omnipresent extavanganza here as it is in North America. Some stores have Merry Christmas signs or trees in the window. But having lights and decortations in your home just isn't as integral to the celebration of Christmas as it is in North America. So it was sort of weird to see this random guy in a Santa suit walking around, especially in the middle of the night.
The reaction was hilarious. He'd go up to every table, people would freak out screaming and laughing, he'd kiss and hug everyone at the table, he'd bum a smoke from someone and then go on to the next table. The best was when he lit a smoke and was smoking it through his Santa mask. I really thought the beard was going to go up in flames at any moment.
But after he'd made the rounds of all the tables on the patio, he started going around again, asking for money "to give to poor children to buy them presents". And the mood completely changed. It was like, the illusion was shattered. It wasn't really Santa Claus, it was just some guy ask begging from change. Everyone reverted to the same tactics they always do to avoid giving to panhandlers, looking away, pleading lack of change, etc. Even the table next to us, four women that were like an over-the-hill drunken Argentine version of Sex in the City out on the town, who had greeted Santa with exclamations of Amor de mi vida!, went all cold on him.
So then Santa went away.
The reaction was hilarious. He'd go up to every table, people would freak out screaming and laughing, he'd kiss and hug everyone at the table, he'd bum a smoke from someone and then go on to the next table. The best was when he lit a smoke and was smoking it through his Santa mask. I really thought the beard was going to go up in flames at any moment.
But after he'd made the rounds of all the tables on the patio, he started going around again, asking for money "to give to poor children to buy them presents". And the mood completely changed. It was like, the illusion was shattered. It wasn't really Santa Claus, it was just some guy ask begging from change. Everyone reverted to the same tactics they always do to avoid giving to panhandlers, looking away, pleading lack of change, etc. Even the table next to us, four women that were like an over-the-hill drunken Argentine version of Sex in the City out on the town, who had greeted Santa with exclamations of Amor de mi vida!, went all cold on him.
So then Santa went away.
Saturday, December 09, 2006
ESL psychologist for hire
So, for a little over a month now I've been teaching English here in Bs As. I work for 4 institutes, who set up classes for me all over town. Some are in-company, some are private classes in people's homes.
Though the financial motivation was the principal reason I chose to look for work here, it wasn't the only one. It's nice to have something to offset the routine of studying and debauchery that one can easily fall into. And as I already knew from my time teaching ESL in Montreal, it's a great way to meet people.
Because, you see, more than other kinds of work, teaching English involves a lot of talking. Especially if you're teaching conversation classes; then you're basically paid to chat. Yeah, you have to explain some grammar rules and vocabulary and stuff, but other than that you basically talk to people, and get them to talk back to you. So think of it, I teach at least a couple of hours each day, times 5 days a week... that's a lot of conversation.
We could just talk about sports cars or Britney Spears or something. But I like to steer topics toward things I find a little more interesting ( and since I'm the teacher, I get to decide which direction the class goes in!!!) For example, when teaching in Montreal my students were a combination of Québécois and immigrants. It was fascinating to talk to the students from other countries about where they came from; the customs, style of life, politics, history and culture of their countries as well as their motivations for coming to Canada and their feelings, impressions and experiences since their arrival. It was really a little bit like travelling.
Here, though, it's a chance to delve into the Argentine culture and the inner workings of the citizen of Buenos Aires, or porteño. Though not your average porteño by any means; private English classes are not cheap, so in addition to some personal or professional motivation to learn English my students are without exception of a very comfortable sub-section of society. The classes I give are almost exclusively in Palermo, Recoleta, Belgrano, ( the three most upscale neighbourhoods of Buenos Aires) or office buildings in the Microcentro.
But nonetheless, it's interesting to hear what they have to say. A major topic of conversation is the changes to Argentine society since the economic crisis in 2001. Back when one Argentine peso was worth one US dollar, the segment of society that most of my students come from was one used to a style of life that included lots of imported goods and frequent travel to Europe and North America. Now that 3 pesos=1 USD, things just aren't the same. Picture if all the money in your bank account was over night worth one third of what it had always been worth. And everyone has a variety of strong opinions on what went wrong, why, and who's to blame.
The topic of poverty and crime is another interesting one. Before the economic crisis the lower middle class in Buenos Aires were able to eke out a decent life for themselves. But since the crisis the segment of society that lives in really difficult circumstances had multiplied enormously. And thus crime has increased as well. And so looking down on the lower classes from the upper positions of society, everyone of my students has something to say on the subject, sometimes revealing a pretty rampant classism. One woman doesn't leave her Palermo apartment during the evening rush hour, because acording to her that's when lots of people who "aren't from the area" are running errands or shopping. Another thinks that poor people today are lazy and demanding and aren't like the "dignified" poor of the past.
And then there's the usual trials and tribulations of life that students always get into. Sometimes I think they forget I'm not a psychologist. Love affairs, debauchery, wacky antics, sex drugs and rock and roll - they tell me it all.
In any case, no matter what it is they're talking about I find it fascinating to take a peek into the inner workings of porteño society - and get paid for it at the same time!
Though the financial motivation was the principal reason I chose to look for work here, it wasn't the only one. It's nice to have something to offset the routine of studying and debauchery that one can easily fall into. And as I already knew from my time teaching ESL in Montreal, it's a great way to meet people.
Because, you see, more than other kinds of work, teaching English involves a lot of talking. Especially if you're teaching conversation classes; then you're basically paid to chat. Yeah, you have to explain some grammar rules and vocabulary and stuff, but other than that you basically talk to people, and get them to talk back to you. So think of it, I teach at least a couple of hours each day, times 5 days a week... that's a lot of conversation.
We could just talk about sports cars or Britney Spears or something. But I like to steer topics toward things I find a little more interesting ( and since I'm the teacher, I get to decide which direction the class goes in!!!) For example, when teaching in Montreal my students were a combination of Québécois and immigrants. It was fascinating to talk to the students from other countries about where they came from; the customs, style of life, politics, history and culture of their countries as well as their motivations for coming to Canada and their feelings, impressions and experiences since their arrival. It was really a little bit like travelling.
Here, though, it's a chance to delve into the Argentine culture and the inner workings of the citizen of Buenos Aires, or porteño. Though not your average porteño by any means; private English classes are not cheap, so in addition to some personal or professional motivation to learn English my students are without exception of a very comfortable sub-section of society. The classes I give are almost exclusively in Palermo, Recoleta, Belgrano, ( the three most upscale neighbourhoods of Buenos Aires) or office buildings in the Microcentro.
But nonetheless, it's interesting to hear what they have to say. A major topic of conversation is the changes to Argentine society since the economic crisis in 2001. Back when one Argentine peso was worth one US dollar, the segment of society that most of my students come from was one used to a style of life that included lots of imported goods and frequent travel to Europe and North America. Now that 3 pesos=1 USD, things just aren't the same. Picture if all the money in your bank account was over night worth one third of what it had always been worth. And everyone has a variety of strong opinions on what went wrong, why, and who's to blame.
The topic of poverty and crime is another interesting one. Before the economic crisis the lower middle class in Buenos Aires were able to eke out a decent life for themselves. But since the crisis the segment of society that lives in really difficult circumstances had multiplied enormously. And thus crime has increased as well. And so looking down on the lower classes from the upper positions of society, everyone of my students has something to say on the subject, sometimes revealing a pretty rampant classism. One woman doesn't leave her Palermo apartment during the evening rush hour, because acording to her that's when lots of people who "aren't from the area" are running errands or shopping. Another thinks that poor people today are lazy and demanding and aren't like the "dignified" poor of the past.
And then there's the usual trials and tribulations of life that students always get into. Sometimes I think they forget I'm not a psychologist. Love affairs, debauchery, wacky antics, sex drugs and rock and roll - they tell me it all.
In any case, no matter what it is they're talking about I find it fascinating to take a peek into the inner workings of porteño society - and get paid for it at the same time!
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Amadeus
Sunday night was a huge, free, outdoor concert in Palermo, celebrating the 250th anniversary ofMozart's birth. Some philharmonic orchestra and a bunch of soloists. To set up the stage they blocked off Avenida Libertador, one of the widest and most important avenues in Buenos Aires. Sort of like what they do for the Jazz Fest in Montreal, if Ste-Catherine were 10 lanes wide.
As me and my friends came by on the bus, I saw the huge crowd and commented it must be for the Mozart concert. They were like, "No way! THAT many people for MOZART? It must be a football game or something, ha ha ha."
But all those people WERE there for Mozart! Newspapers reported the next day that there were around 100 000 people there. It had the atmoshere of a rock concert. Huge stage, big screens and speakers set up so that those in the back could see what was going on on stage. People with chairs and blankets and guys going around selling beer and pop. There were old people and families and even a gang of punky goth kids standing next to us. Random.
The program was basically Mozart's Greatest Hits. All his most well-known stuff; Symphony No. 40, Rondo Alla Turca, the most famous arias from Don Giovanni, the Magic Flute and the Marriage of Figaro. Still, I was sure that people would get bored and start to leave after the first couple of pieces. And though some did, most stayed, and it was one the most attentive outdoor audiences I've ever seen.
Two things about the concert were so hilarious and SO Argentinian. One was the finale of the show. They had like 50 choirs and the full orchestra peforming parts of Mozart's Requiem. But to mark the end of the concert, they had fireworks. So you had all these people singing and playing and you couldn't hear crap. But everyone was ooh-ing and aw-ing over the fireworks.
Then when the concert ended, the 100 000 people that were there started streaming towards the commercial streets of Palermo to take the bus and subway to get home. The streets surrounding the concert site were chaos; crowds of people blocking the streets, cars not being able to get through, people fighting over taxis, cars smashing into each other, taxi drivers arguing with policemen, drivers arguing with policemen, pedestrians arguing with policemen. It was sort of ironic that this nice peaceful concert of Mozart¡s music invoked the caos that insued afterwards. But that's Argentina for you.
Here's a photo slide show of the concert. Unfortunately it doesn't include pictures of the "after-concert"...
As me and my friends came by on the bus, I saw the huge crowd and commented it must be for the Mozart concert. They were like, "No way! THAT many people for MOZART? It must be a football game or something, ha ha ha."
But all those people WERE there for Mozart! Newspapers reported the next day that there were around 100 000 people there. It had the atmoshere of a rock concert. Huge stage, big screens and speakers set up so that those in the back could see what was going on on stage. People with chairs and blankets and guys going around selling beer and pop. There were old people and families and even a gang of punky goth kids standing next to us. Random.
The program was basically Mozart's Greatest Hits. All his most well-known stuff; Symphony No. 40, Rondo Alla Turca, the most famous arias from Don Giovanni, the Magic Flute and the Marriage of Figaro. Still, I was sure that people would get bored and start to leave after the first couple of pieces. And though some did, most stayed, and it was one the most attentive outdoor audiences I've ever seen.
Two things about the concert were so hilarious and SO Argentinian. One was the finale of the show. They had like 50 choirs and the full orchestra peforming parts of Mozart's Requiem. But to mark the end of the concert, they had fireworks. So you had all these people singing and playing and you couldn't hear crap. But everyone was ooh-ing and aw-ing over the fireworks.
Then when the concert ended, the 100 000 people that were there started streaming towards the commercial streets of Palermo to take the bus and subway to get home. The streets surrounding the concert site were chaos; crowds of people blocking the streets, cars not being able to get through, people fighting over taxis, cars smashing into each other, taxi drivers arguing with policemen, drivers arguing with policemen, pedestrians arguing with policemen. It was sort of ironic that this nice peaceful concert of Mozart¡s music invoked the caos that insued afterwards. But that's Argentina for you.
Here's a photo slide show of the concert. Unfortunately it doesn't include pictures of the "after-concert"...
Por fin, una boliche!
Saturday night my friend Alejandro had some sorrows to drown, so we decided that some dancing was in order. He had randomly spotted a sign in the street for an 80's/new wave night in a bar in the basement of a hotel near our hostel, so we decided to be daring and see what it was all about.
Discotheques in Argentina are called boliches, which originally was a word referring to any type of bar, but whose definition has become more restrictive. I hadn't actually been to a boliche here yet , but I've heard they're pretty intense affairs. Crowded, with people flirting to the max. Unlike in Canada where you go to the club with your group of friends and spend all night with people you already know, here groups of guys and groups of girls go to the boliche seperately, and it's all about meeting people ( in every sense of the word....) But since here seduction is a big game and guys have to basically do all the work, I'd heard that if you're a girl at a boliche you can barely dance for all the guys that are trying to chat you up.
But the place where we went was nothing like your typical boliche. There were lots of people, but it wasn't totally packed, and the vibe was quite relaxed. People really were there just to dance to the music, which was great. And maybe it was because I went with a group of 4 guys (we were quite an international contingent - 2 Columbians, a French guy, a Chilean and me), but I didn't get hit on once all night.
What's hilarious is that since the beginning of October it's illegal to smoke in bars or restaurants in Buenos Aires. but this being such a city, or rather country, of smokers, people are having trouble adapting to this new law ( to put it lightly.) Now, as with any law Argentinians find pesky or pointless, they quickly, easily and without much regret find ways around it. So the bar where we went had a couple of "smoke bouncers" on duty, who would basically follow the trail of smoke over and tell those tried to smoke despite the law ( like, half the bar) to butt out. This guy's job got infinitely harder once the DJ came out and turned on his smoke machine; then he had to spot the glowing red butts through the crowd. So everyone would hold their cigarette under the table or behind their chair, or just cover the end with their hand. Hilarious. And even when they'd catch someone, they wouldn't kick them out, they'd just tell them to put their cigarette out. If they kick them out they're not going to buy any more beer, now are they?
We left the bar at 6am, when things started winding down. We stopped at a cafe for breakfast on the way home. I've become a convert for the Argentinian late nights. It's perfect. When you leave the bar and the sun is up, there's no wandering down sketchy dark streets trying to find a taxi or trying to get your keys out when you get to your door in the dark. It's light out! And you can take the subway/train/bus home! And what's ore is that the buses and streets and cafes are full of other people on their way home as well. It's like the middle of the day. I love it!
Thursday's my birthday, so I'm trying to decide whether to organize and outing to a boliche, or to take things more relaxed at a pub or bar....
Discotheques in Argentina are called boliches, which originally was a word referring to any type of bar, but whose definition has become more restrictive. I hadn't actually been to a boliche here yet , but I've heard they're pretty intense affairs. Crowded, with people flirting to the max. Unlike in Canada where you go to the club with your group of friends and spend all night with people you already know, here groups of guys and groups of girls go to the boliche seperately, and it's all about meeting people ( in every sense of the word....) But since here seduction is a big game and guys have to basically do all the work, I'd heard that if you're a girl at a boliche you can barely dance for all the guys that are trying to chat you up.
But the place where we went was nothing like your typical boliche. There were lots of people, but it wasn't totally packed, and the vibe was quite relaxed. People really were there just to dance to the music, which was great. And maybe it was because I went with a group of 4 guys (we were quite an international contingent - 2 Columbians, a French guy, a Chilean and me), but I didn't get hit on once all night.
What's hilarious is that since the beginning of October it's illegal to smoke in bars or restaurants in Buenos Aires. but this being such a city, or rather country, of smokers, people are having trouble adapting to this new law ( to put it lightly.) Now, as with any law Argentinians find pesky or pointless, they quickly, easily and without much regret find ways around it. So the bar where we went had a couple of "smoke bouncers" on duty, who would basically follow the trail of smoke over and tell those tried to smoke despite the law ( like, half the bar) to butt out. This guy's job got infinitely harder once the DJ came out and turned on his smoke machine; then he had to spot the glowing red butts through the crowd. So everyone would hold their cigarette under the table or behind their chair, or just cover the end with their hand. Hilarious. And even when they'd catch someone, they wouldn't kick them out, they'd just tell them to put their cigarette out. If they kick them out they're not going to buy any more beer, now are they?
We left the bar at 6am, when things started winding down. We stopped at a cafe for breakfast on the way home. I've become a convert for the Argentinian late nights. It's perfect. When you leave the bar and the sun is up, there's no wandering down sketchy dark streets trying to find a taxi or trying to get your keys out when you get to your door in the dark. It's light out! And you can take the subway/train/bus home! And what's ore is that the buses and streets and cafes are full of other people on their way home as well. It's like the middle of the day. I love it!
Thursday's my birthday, so I'm trying to decide whether to organize and outing to a boliche, or to take things more relaxed at a pub or bar....
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