Posts Tagged ‘Buenos Aires’

The countdown has started for my trip back to Buenos Aires, and I’m starting to make my list of those things I want to take back with me that are unavailable or hard to get in Argentina. Because luggage rules with all airlines allow max. of 50 lbs. for each bag, and most charge for each bag, I need to be selective in what I decide to take back.  My list-in-progress:

• Electronics: Taxes on imported electronics are super-prohibitive, and new brands are slow to hit the market. It’s better to buy what I think I will need here in the U.S. and take back with me. It’s perfectly legal to bring in personal electronic equipment, as long as it is clear that it is my personal stuff and I have no intention to sell it. Residents of Argentina need to pay tax on what they have bought abroad. I’m not an official resident yet, so I can take advantage.

• Feminine/Personal items: The only brand of tampon in Argentina is O.B., so  I generally stock up on my preferred brand. They carry different deodorants as well, so I usually add a couple extra of my preferred brands of those, too.
• U.S. Stamps! When I do business which requires a self-addressed stamped envelope, well, I  need a U.S. stamp. Especially since my return address is a U.S. post-office box.
• Bras and underwear: There are two issues I have with Argentine undergarments. First, I have a hard time finding bras that fit. Second, the quality is very poor; bras fall apart and get holes in them within a couple of months. A friend suggested this is because in Argentina, plastic surgery is so common, that fuller-breasted women don’t need very much support because their breasts stay up on their own. (Funny, but true!)
• Running shoes: Strappy leather sandals and boots are everywhere, but athletic shoe brands are pretty pathetic, since they have to be imported. Better to find a good pair of New Balance before I leave.
• Hidden Valley Ranch Dressing packets: A taste of home. Argentines don’t really do salad dressings, except for oil-vinegar and salsa golf (which is a version of thousand-island). The only ranch dressing I have found is Newman’s Own in the imported isle for about $8 US a bottle. The ranch dressing packets are light and convenient, and will satisfy my occasional cravings.

That’s about it- of course, I will buy a few clothes, but I don’t want to bulk up the luggage too much. We already have a lot of cycling equipment we bought that we are taking back. Oh, and about the title: they don’t have bacon in Argentina. Pancetta, yes, but it is different than the bacon cuts here in the U.S. If I could bring bacon I would, but somehow I think it would be a little too complicated.

If any of you South American expats can think of something I’ve overlooked, I’d be happy to hear about it.

Julia Evans wrote this article forAffordableCallingCards.net where she blogs about her life as an expat.  She also writes a personal blog Evans’ Gateabout living as an American expat in Buenos Aires, where she lives with her husband.  Comments on both blogs welcome!

On Sunday, November 6, Argentina celebrated Día del Inmigrante,  a celebration for all the immigrants living in Argentina.  This was my day, as I am an immigrant.  It is still weird for me  to think of myself  as an immigrant, but I am.  I immigrated to Argentina in 2004 from the United States.  I am now a legal resident.

Argentines like to talk about how they are a country of immigrants.  They are proud of their Italian, Spanish, and other European roots.  When you meet Argentines, they always want to know where you are from.  What they mean is your heritage, not necessarily what country you are from.  Argentines living here for generations will still introduce themselves as “Italians, Russians, or Polish.”  They have a reputation throughout South America for their insistence to continually think of themselves as Europeans rather than as Latin Americans.

One of the things that I love about living in Buenos Aires is the access to cultural events provided by the government.  On any day of the week, you can usually find something to do that is free or at a low cost.  The government believes that culture should be available to all people.  Throughout the year there are concerts, plays, and many events you can attend.  I am still amazed at how many wonderful events I have been able to go to that have been free.  Ballets. operas, orchestras, and theater.  All first class.

Día Del Inmigrante was not an exception.  For weeks there were billboards advertising the celebration to take place in Parque de Tres Febrero in front of the planetarium.  There were to be dance troupes representing the various countries performing.   This was the first year the government was sponsoring this event.  I was excited.  Not just because I am an immigrant, but because I love dance.  I am a tango dancer, but I love dance in all forms.

The event started at 2:00 pm.  I got there around 3:00 pm with my friend Fernando.  It was a beautiful day.  The sun was shining.  It was not too cold. The area was packed, but not too much.  I was able to stand fairly close to the front.  There were families with picnic baskets, groups of friends, and couples, all watching.  People here tend to make events like this an outing, sharing food and mate.  Vendors were selling choripan (a sausage on a bun), candy, and soft drinks. The atmosphere was very family and very festive.

As I nosed my way to the front, I lost my friend Fernando.  I found myself next to a family of Russians.  We smiled at each other. I caught the end of the Greek dance troupe.  I never think of Greeks living here in Argentina. There is no “Greek Town” and there are no Greek restaurants, yet they had two different styles of Greek dance troupes represented.   As I got closer to the stage I was able to see a board that listed all the countries that would be performing; Italy, Brasil, Bolivia, Paraguay, Israel, Spain, Japan, Ukraine, Scotland, Lebanon, and Africa among others.  I also noted that countries with many immigrants here such as Peru, China, Colombia, and of course the USA were not represented.

I was mesmerized by the beautiful costumes and the wonderful dancing.  I tend to lose myself in dancing, whether it is my own or someone else’s.  I wondered if these were troupes that always practiced together, or if they came together just for this event.   Each country brought a new perspective with their native dance.  None of these dances were new to me, but it was exciting to see them performed here in Buenos Aires.   As the young dancers finished they would sit with their families.  You could see the pride and excitement on their faces.    Many people  who come here for extended stays or even those who more or less live here, constantly complain about the lack of diversity in Argentina.  You would never know that from this exhibition.

Scotland

Greece

Paraguay

Japan

Bolivia

Armenia

Despite the British phone booth, this is Buenos Aires. They have several of these in Recoleta, I have no idea why.

It’s taken a couple months of being back in California to start to miss Buenos Aires. And I’ve started to realize that what I miss the most are things that have to do with being in a big city (Buenos Aires is the 8th largest metropolis in the world). Big cities, after all, are more like each other than the countries that they are in. So I’ve been reflecting on the pros and cons of living in a big city, and why I like living in one.

- The closeness of everything. Most of my needs in BsAs can be fulfilled within four square blocks of my apartment- the hairdresser, the grocery store, the stationery supply, lighting store, even the lab to get blood tests. Sometimes this leads to feeling a bit isolated if I don’t get out of my neighborhood, but it makes getting things done much more convenient.

- Not having a car. I haven’t driven a car since I have been in BsAs. I love not having the hassle of gas, insurance, maintenance, and parking. There is plenty of public and private transportation, and I have never not been able to get somewhere. It removes the hassle of drawing straws to see who will be the designated driver, as well.

- Socialization. Because of the density and the amount of people in the city, there is always an opportunity to socialize just about any day that I choose. I can go to a cocktail party, or invite an friend out for lunch. It is easier to accept an invitation, because I can meet someone with a fifteen-minute taxi ride without much impact on my day. I think socializing with people has unintended benefits as well- I hear about events, job opportunities, services, you name it. I definitely feel closer to people in a big city.

- Culture. If you live in the American suburbs, you have to go through a lot of effort to see an opera or ballet. In BsAs, I can walk six blocks and see a world-class performance. Music, dance, theater, all at my doorstep.

Of course, there are cons to living in a big city as well. After several months, I miss nature, and long for a stretch of trees and grass without concrete interrupting the view. I have to keep a closer eye on my belongings, although in BsAs, I am cautious about where I go and have never felt in danger of my safety. It is noisy and dirty, relatively.

But the suburbs to me feel… unnatural. The way that the American suburbs have sprung up seems to me against many of our natural instincts. There is a lack of connection with what is going on in the city at large, and with people.  Zoning laws are so strict that there are no corner pubs, or corner grocery stores where people casually run into each other. We all stay in our isolated houses on our isolated lots, and drive isolated from the air, sun, and sky in our cars.

The country, I can do. I get that. The city, I get that too. But the suburbs seem to me a strange animal that I would not miss if it went extinct.

Julia Evans wrote this article for AffordableCallingCards.net where she blogs about her life as an expat.  She also writes a personal blog Evans’ Gate about living as an American expat in Buenos Aires, where she lives with her husband.  Comments on both blogs welcome!

Portrait of a Gap-Year Student

I didn’t even know what a “gap-year” was before I moved to Buenos Aires. No one in my social circle ever took them. But after moving, I have run into several young people between the ages of 18 and 25 who are taking a break for a few weeks or a few months between one of their college years, and South America is attractive due to its low cost of living. Most of my encounters with gap-years were soon after I arrived, usually when weary of hearing Spanish all day, I would strike up a conversation at the nearest table where I heard a familiar “yeah,… like… yeah, like….”and eventually end up hanging out for an evening.  But there are some lessons I have learned from cavorting with backpack-toting vagabonds 15–[ahem]–or more–years younger than me.

1. A gap-year has a greater party-endurance and shorter recovery time than I do.
20-somethings are bouncy. They have the ability to drink from five in the afternoon ‘till five in the morning, jump around on the dance floor like a jack-in-the-box, stumble home drunk, and wake up the next day with a smile and a hankering to go parasailing. I need to remember this the next time someone invites me to an all-night pub crawl. I recover from alcohol in dog years. (Or they do. I always get that mixed up.)

2. A gap-year has never had a real job.
This is related to the last one, but deserves its own subject. Even if you don’t end up drinking copious amounts of alcohol with a gap-year, you might eventually hear the phrase “What time do you have to be up in the morning?” This is ENTIRELY THE WRONG QUESTION. The right question is: “What do you have to DO in the morning?” It makes a difference whether you have to show up at eight ready to serve coffee as a barista or deliver a business proposal to a prestigious client. Or perform brain surgery. Or strap someone into a harness for parasailing.

3. They are not married.
Now, I can appreciate the “OMG, that guy (or gal) is so frickin’ gorgeous!”  as much as anybody, but…… I have the person I am going home with (or to). I don’t need to hunt. Go ahead, enjoy the hunt, but when you start talking about whether you are wearing the appropriate underwear, it’s my queue to go home. (And if you are a married man in BsAs, it’s your queue as well. I won’t expand on it, but you know what I am talking about. Call your wife and tell her you love her.)

4. Don’t have a political conversation, unless you can keep it very short, or right before you are about to leave.
Because they are ideologues. I was, wasn’t I? So are they. I wouldn’t listen to anyone when I was twenty-two. Neither will they.

5. They are poor.
Nothing against being poor, I was poor when I was twenty-two. Most of us were. Not to be snobby, but it feels slightly inappropriate to offer to pay for someone’s meal when you have just met, and a gap-year needs to watch their budget. I can only eat so many three-peso empanadas before I tire of them. And I have been living here long enough to get tired of the local cuisine, and crave something different. Something different in Buenos Aires usually means paying more for “ethnic” food.

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I know the above are blatant stereotypes. The differences between me and a gap-year student really say more about me than about them. I’m not as young as I used to be. I have a job, a marriage, and I don’t go cavorting as much as I used to. And I never took a gap year myself, so perhaps I am a little jealous. But I know that this experience will be a formative one for them going forward, and I really do wish all of them the very best.

The lesson here is that while socializing with those who are “finding themselves,” I found out a lot about me.

Julia Evans wrote this article for AffordableCallingCards.net where she blogs about her life as an expat.  She also writes a personal blog Evans’ Gate about living as an American expat in Buenos Aires, where she lives with her husband.  Comments on both blogs welcome!