Porteños

Buenos Aires! It is interesting to think about how many different moving parts, throughout the course of history, come into play in the creation of the dynamic of a big city - a place where so many people have lived, worked, and visited over many years. So many different decisions by so many different people...about where to form a street, where to live, where to move, where to create shops, where to build subways, what kind of buildings to build...whether to immigrate there or not...where to build the soccer stadium...etc. And in some cities, these decisions collide in complete disaster (traffic, pollution, crime, poverty, segregation, sprawl, whatever) while in other cities, they find harmony. I`m not saying that Buenos Aires is perfect...but it has a few things figured out! It is amazing! I could live here...the first time I have felt that kind of comfort and ¨fit¨ on this trip. The city is both historically charming and modern...public transportation is great...the food is delicious, both on street corners (empanadas!) and in very fine restaurants...there is a cosmopolitan, business-like sort of vibe...and yet people are playful and fun, creating an incredible nightlife that lasts until well into the morning...and don`t even get me started about tango. I love it so much here that I am staying for three weeks. I don`t want to be a visitor here - I want to feel like I live here.

So many things to report from the past few days, so I will just select a few. I have been networking constantly and have been hanging out with Argentines non-stop. I have had some fantastic lunch dates in Palermo Soho with friends of friends...what an amazing neighborhood of shops and cafes that feels like a mellowed out, European version of trendy Soho, NYC. I had the most delicious sirloin that I have ever tasted in a restaurant called La Brigada with another friend of friend. I don`t eat a lot of meat, but it was obvious that this cow was treated differently before it arrived on my plate...pampered on a diet of gourmet grass possibly. It was divine. The Argentinean Malbecs are divine as well.

I have been using a certain social networking site...without naming names...to find out about good nightclubs and bars to check out. I have made many friends already - the number of contacts in my new cell phone is impressive! These people hang out together in tighter knit circles than in New York or LA...so I have already been noticing that I am bumping into some of the same folks in the places I have been going. It`s great, I feel like I am a part of a community for a short while! And they are remembering me too. I think that I look like the people here...but the men claim otherwise. Apparently I stick out ¨like I have a big blinking sign on my forehead¨ according to one guy. I am still trying to figure out why. Maybe it is because I always have a somewhat blissful and confused look on my face because I am happy even though I have no idea what people are saying to me. Lucky for me, ¨no hablo espanol!¨ gets a response in English immediately everywhere I go...I feel quite guilty when I am hanging out with five other people and they are all speaking in English to each other so that I am included in the conversation. I must must must work on my Spanish.

I took my first tango lesson two days ago! It was fantastic! I can`t wait to go back for another class. I really do love to dance so much. Like Lulu Lemon says: ¨Eat, dance, floss, travel.¨ I am doing all four of those things. Last night I went clubbing with five other girls - they were all darling and we had so much fun. At the club, the DJ started a reggaeton set, which is up my alley...hip hops beats with Latin flavor. Some guys told my friend: ¨That girl is American?! How did she learn to dance like that?¨ So I promise, I represent you all well.

On Wednesday I went down to a working class neighborhood called La Boca. This is the spot, by the port, where the immigrants were dropped off...and it is where Italian immigrants settled in large numbers in the early 1900s. They build their houses out of scrap metal, and in true Italian artistic flavor, they wanted to make their very meager housing as beautiful as possible...so they ¨borrowed¨ paint from the shipyards and painted the houses bright yellow, red, blue, green. It´s that shear will of hardworking immigrants to make the most of what they have, and to have more, that makes the neighborhood so beautiful. This is where tango was born, in the bars, streets, and brothels...and you can hear a kind of bittersweet yearning, for more, in the swells of the music...it`s not too far from saudade.

The Italians moved out, and new immigrants have moved in...from Peru, Paraguay, and elsewhere. Your guide books tell you that you can`t wander outside the few block radius of the tourist mecca that has been created with government assistance...and you can very clearly see the demarcation points. On one block, the metal houses are brightly colored, with gift shops and restaurants and people eating on the street. On the next block, the paint is faded - pale red, pale yellow...with graffiti and garbage in the gutters. I got to see the real La Boca because I signed myself up to volunteer for the day at a community center. A coordinator took me and three others up into a third floor apartment in one of these metal shacks...and while conditions are better than in Rio`s favelas, they are not better by much. I saw leaks and rust, and things weren`t smelling too good. The small flat that I visited housed seven people, most of whom were at work at the time. I get very emotional when I see working class people living in conditions that my American sensibilities tell me are below the poverty line. My four grandparents were working class people, mining coal, operating machinery in steel factories, working in grocery stores, and installing ceilings. Their parents chose to take the boat to the United States, and as a result, their meager incomes still managed to pay for clean houses with insulation and sound plumbing, fresh food, and public education for their children that allowed my parents to go to college, move to NYC, and become young urban professionals...and then some. I have not seen that kind of opportunity here, and it is a damn shame.

But what I did see is amazing community and formidable spirit. The community center was phenomenal. I visited the kitchen and helped women cook and distribute food for themselves, their families, and their neighbors. It is a ¨you get what you give¨ kind of mentality, and everyone pitches in. There was also a textiles area where they sew clothes, and a classroom where volunteers teach English. Downstairs, the men were in the midst of making huge banners for a demonstration that was to happen a few days later. Apparently, the government has evicted a number of families from the flats that they rent so that the touristy area could be expanded. Now, more families are being evicted so that they can expand the soccer stadium in the neighborhood. The irony of the situation is that the owner of the local soccer club - the Boca Juniors - was elected major of Buenos Aires. The Boca Juniors are supposed to be the working class heros (although I don`t know how the residents of La Boca can afford to attend games). This owner apparently won the election because he garnered the support of working class voters who believed that he would stand up for them. Now he is uprooting a portion of the community to support his own business interests - which is crooked and appalling. I so admire the spirit of these residents for standing up for their own right to stay put.

There was something intriguing to note about these banners, by the way. All of them used the colors of the Argentinean flag - baby blue and white - and some of these were actually enormous flags with writing on top. It was fascinating that they used their country`s flag to protest their own government - a government which is supposedly represented by the flag. The people have reclaimed the flag for themselves. Not so in the United States, where we associate the red-white-and blue too often with right wing conservatives and nationalists who claim love of country but add disclaimers of race/gender/orientation/class. I don`t think that I saw a single American flag during the Los Angeles Pride parade...well - the point is that all of these cultural experiences are so stimulating - they continue to make me think, wonder, search for truth, and feel like I am moving closer to truth. I am so grateful for that - and for all of the wonderful smiles and hugs I got that day in La Boca.

Speaking of being grateful...I just moved into a friend of a friend`s incredible apartment in Palermo Hollywood, a gorgeous neighborhood full of restaurants and bars, cobblestone streets and trees. Palermo Hollywood is a far cry from La Boca. I am so lucky to have a place to call home for the next two weeks, as I have already moved three times since arriving last weekend. It felt incredible to unpack...and I slept so well last night in a comfortable bed. (Or, rather, from 6AM until noon...Buenos Aires is a dance 'til dawn kind of place!) I think that it is time that I leave this internet cafe and return home...step out onto the balcony, soak up the city, and get ready for another night as a porteño. I like the sound of that!

Much love to my Angelenos and New Yorkers...and Jersey Guys and Jersey Girls...and Paulistas and Mineros...saudades! xx, Katie