In a week, I'm leaving Buenos Aires and going to Chicago for several months.
The bad news: The World's First Expat Blog will be on hiatus while I'm gone.
The good news: Blogging on the Internet has replaced blogging in my head as my favorite way to blog. So I'm going to keep at it.
You'll be able to find me at Fruit Slinger. I'll be blogging as I work for one amazing farm, selling strawberries, cherries, blueberries, plums, peaches, nectarines, a dozen kinds of melons, two dozen kinds of apples, half a dozen types of pears and probably something else I'm forgetting.
I know, I know. . . You're looking at that list and thinking: What about apricots? They were pretty much wiped out this year by a late cold snap. It's very sad.
Anyone interested in farmers markets, sustainable agriculture, cooking, food, hilarity, or killing time at work might find Fruit Slinger worth a visit. Tell your friends!
Because I'll be without a computer for a bit, there'll be a break of a week or two before the first stirrings on Fruit Slinger.
Meanwhile, I'd enjoy hearing from you in the comments section. No registration is required and you would be saving me a lot of trouble by posting. Otherwise I'm going to have to go in and add comments myself using different identities to avoid looking like a tool with a blog almost no one reads. . . . even though, yes, I am a tool with a blog that almost no one reads -- well, now two blogs.
Photo from lanacion.com.ar
I have added a side bar containing links to some choice BsAs blogs. There's also one from Chile, because it's good to know what the neighbors are up to.
Frankly, I have in the past been reluctant to mention these other blogs because they make this blog look like it's written by monkeys -- talented monkeys with remarkable keyboarding skills and a sweet, monkey-friendly digital camera. But monkeys nonetheless.
Being a non-native resident here means I don't pick up on some things. There's the language, of course. But it goes beyond that.
How many cars with water jugs or bleach bottles or oil cans sitting on top of them did I have to pass before I realized they were trying to tell me something?
It means the car is for sale.
This is the kind of city you would quit your job and move 6,000 miles to live in.
But it's not perfect.
Here are some things I will and won't miss when I'm not in Buenos Aires. (All in one list to keep it interesting, and because some things fall under both headings.)
- No screens on the windows. Open your window for some fresh air in the summer and be prepared to share your home with every bug imaginable.
- Fruit displays: the carefully stacked piles of citrus and crates of melons on almost every block.
- The glass of seltzer water and cookie(s) that automatically come with your coffee.
- The national coin shortage.
- An oven with no temperature control.
- On so many blocks, one out of ten buildings is an elegant minor masterpiece of architecture.
- The other nine buildings.
- A bank that will let me use the ATM to make deposits -- but not outside banking hours (10am-3pm, Monday through Friday).
- A tax system and culture that make you feel punished for playing by the rules.
- Intersections without stop signs.
- Discussing politics with Susana, one of the women who does my laundry.
- Nearly free public transportation.
- The utter sameness of the food.*
- My friends.
- My doorman.
- Fresh pasta shops.
- Fluorescent flood lighting in restaurants.
- High-quality ice cream in a multiplicity of flavors.
- The opportunity to learn something in even the most basic transactions.
- The casualness with which so many people -- mothers, businessmen, ladies in elegant coats -- litter.
- People reminding me that I'm not in the First World.
- The knowledge that doing even the simplest thing could well take five times as long as it should and involve 10 times the number of steps. Or, you know, it could be solved instantly since it's no big deal to bend the rules.
- Dog shit.
- Malbec.
- Being the foreigner.
- Mullets.
* There is a national menu of beef, pasta and pizza. Deviations are usually expensive and not readily available. I asked someone a few months ago if he thought there had been any food trends in Buenos Aires in the last 10 years. He said the parrilla -- a typical Argentine barbecue restaurant -- was making a big comeback. So, basically, the trend he identified was more beef restaurants. Super!
Part of me is a little skeptical.
Clarín has a story on a protest that was taking place near a school. The parents were demanding a stoplight because too many drivers speed through there, some of them going the wrong way on the street.
So far so good. This part I definitely believe.
But there was a camera crew there to cover the protest. And what did they capture on film? A little girl almost getting run over DURING the protest!
Part of it looks real, but there's also a little bit of a surreal quality to it. Of course, you could say the same about a lot of things here. It doesn't make them less real.
There's some coarse language in the video clip as the parents chew out the driver, whose only answer seems to be, "I made a mistake."
You don't need to understand Spanish to appreciate the footage of the close call, which is about 30 seconds in.
The kid's OK.
P.S. If you want to get language geeky, you can pause to appreciate the broadcaster's Buenos Aires accent in the first 20 seconds or so, with the lingering "a" in "contramano" and "semáforos."
Stores are required to post a sign telling you that there is a complaint log available for you to write in or peruse at your request.
I went to return something at the local megamart today and while I was waiting at the customer service desk, I started flipping through the complaint book.
I have this vision in my head of the complaint book being the ultimate escalation. You have a problem. Maybe you talk to the manager for a few minutes and you're still not satisfied. Tempers flare. Voices rise. Suddenly, everyone falls silent and takes one step back as you request [cue ominous music] the Book of Complaints.
And then you write your complaint in there and then . . .
Yeah. Exactly. I'm not sure what's supposed to happen next. I remember being told a long time ago in Spain that periodically someone from the government would come around and look at the complaint book. And then what? Copy the best ones over into his/her own notebook and then . . .
Yeah. Exactly.
Today I only looked at a few pages. One complaint noted that there were NEVER, EVER any large plastic bags, no matter how many times you ask for them. All they have are the small plastic bags. Totally unacceptable. This is something I have observed myself, although I have never been moved to write about it in the complaint book.
The other complaint observed that the lack of dairy product selection in the store was very frustrating. While the complaint acknowledged that this problem was probably not due to the store itself, it was still unacceptable. It was, the complaint concluded, "¡una vergüenza!" (Shameful!)
Man . . . that is a tongue-lashing from which the complaint book won't soon recover!
1. There is a massive citywide, government-sponsored poster campaign (as mentioned in a previous post) ostensibly promoting peace, unity and clean sidewalks but lately being used mostly as a tool by the mayor -- Jorge Telerman -- for self-aggrandizement in the run-up to mayoral elections.
2. The posters are done in a sharp and consistent style.
3. The mayor has been accused -- by a political opponent -- of corruption in a case known as the Skanska case.
4. The mayor's opponents have appropriated the distinctive look of the city's posters and turned them against the mayor with their own propaganda.
5. The results are amusing. Look at that bribe changing hands in the corner! The little government official is so happy to be getting his bribe/kickback money. Awww! Don't you just wish they could stay like that forever?
A few times a week I see the refrigerated trucks delivering beef to the markets and butcher shops. When I was taking this photo, I'm sure the people waiting at the bus stop off my left shoulder were wondering what the hell I was doing. It's hard. . . . You want to say something to them, but at the same time it's pointless. I look like an ordinary citizen. Who would believe I have my own blog?
I personally have no problem with the photo, but I decided it didn't quite pass what we called the "cornflakes test" back when I was silly enough to work at a newspaper. That is, it's not necessarily the kind of thing you would want to see while you were eating breakfast, at least not without knowing what you were getting into.
The full-size version is on Flickr.
About 15 years ago, 95% of beef here was distributed like this, with only 5% being delivered in pre-cut pieces. The ratio has since shifted to something like 75%/25%.
Not honking your horn is listening to one another,
