Altered Argentina

Rio de Janeiro

2006-09-17T21:37:00.000-03:00

A week ago I returned from a 6-day trip to Rio de Janeiro. After visits to Brasilia and Sao Paolo last year, Rio left me with fresh insights into Brazilian culture.

Chaos and Order

Chaotic is a fitting word to begin describing Rio. I’ve heard many visitors describe Buenos Aires as a chaotic city; definitely an accurate statement when compared to cities from the North.

But Rio takes chaos to another level. I couldn’t fully appreciate Rio’s disorder until I returned to Buenos Aires and for the first time ever considered the city to be relatively calm.

Rio’s traffic, noise, crime, pollution, poverty and general disarray make Buenos Aires look like Geneva. Strangely enough, Cariocas seem happier and more laidback than their neurotic Porteño counterparts. I imagine the relaxing backdrop of beautiful beaches, tropical climate, and urban peaks covered in lush jungle have something to do with this paradox. Just take a look at Copacabana beach:

Rio is a unique blend of natural paradise and urban sprawl. The constant influx of tourists demonstrates the city’s continuing charm. Here’s a view from atop the hill where the famous Cristo Redentor is located:

Given my generalization that Rio is far more chaotic a city than Baires, I must qualify that I found peace and order in two places I thought I never would: in two favelas and in the Maracanã, Rio’s famed futebol stadium.

Favelas and Villas Miserias

The Brazilian favela (slum) has achieved international infamy for being a hotbed of violence and drugs. Argentina’s villa miserias have a similar reputation domestically but are barely known abroad.

One of my favourite movies, Cidade de Deus, portrays several decades of a government housing project and the evolution of a turf war between rival narco gangs. When trying to imagine a favela, gripping scenes from Cidade de Deus inevitably come to mind.

Given this preconception, I was curious to visit and learn more about Rio’s favelas first-hand. After asking around, it seemed that Favela Tour would be an educational, socially conscious, and non-voyeuristic option.

The tour was perhaps the highlight of the trip. Our guide, an Argentine who has been living in a favela for several years, was very informative and open about discussing favela life. Also, some of the proceeds from the tour were donated to an after-school program for kids in the Vila Canoa favela.

The tour started in Rocinha, the largest favela in Rio, and possibly the largest in all of South America, with an estimated 200,000 inhabitants. I was surprised by its level of urbanization and infrastructure. Houses are made of brick, many streets are paved, and a wide variety of services and businesses are available in the center. View from atop a house in Rocinha:

The government, along with the Inter-American development Bank played an important role in providing basic infrastructure. However, it is the narco gangs that are the ultimate authority in the neighbourhood. Police rarely enter the favela, and if they do, they almost certainly provoke attacks from the drug lords.

This excerpt explains the role of the gangs in much the same way our tour guide presented them:

Rocinha, like many of Rio’s favelas, was under the control of a criminal faction known as the ADA (Amigos dos Amigos), until the recent death of leader Bem-Te-Vi in October of 2005 at the hands of the police. Typically, Rio’s favelas fall under the control of one of three main factions, the CV (Comando Vermelho), the TC (Terceiro Comando), and the ADA. These groups are famous for providing much needed resources such as support for day care, medicine for the sick, and money for the poor. They also have been known to asphalt roads, host huge community parties, and even sponsor other recreational spaces and activities, such as soccer courts. These groups normally maintain a very high level of control over social behavior, strictly prohibiting street crimes such as rape, muggings, and break-ins within the favela. Even so, Rio’s criminal factions should not be glorified or romanticized as some sort of modern day Robin Hoods. Besides drug trafficking, such organizations in Rio have historically been involved in arms smuggling, bank robberies, kidnapping, and murder.

Given the zero tolerance for delinquency within the favela, our guide explained that Rocinha is a relatively calm and peaceful place. Indeed, I felt more at ease walking around Rocinha than strolling around seedy Avenida Copacabana, the main strip located a block away from the world’s most famous beach.

Our guide emphasized that favelados are generally happy with their neighbourhood and ever since basic services and infrastructure arrived, few have a desire to leave. I found this hard to believe considering the stark differences between the favelas and wealthy neighbourhoods only footsteps away.

For instance, as can be seen in this photo above, at about 200 meters away from Rocinha, lies the residence of a private American school. Monthly tuition at the school runs $3000 reales per month (~$1400 US), while the average family’s salary in the neighbouring favela is 1/10 that amount, at around $350 reales (~$160 US)!

Furthermore, if a family has to subsist on $350 reales, I wondered why the government didn’t lower the high public transportation costs. For instance, the subway costs $2.30 reales (US $1.00) per trip while bus fares usually run between $1.80-$2.15 reales. If someone travels to work twice per day, twenty times per month, that’s $92 reales – one quarter of the average salary spent traveling!

In Buenos Aires, the public transportation remains very cheap, especially when compared to Rio; between $.70 to $.80 pesos (~US $0.25) per trip. By using the same calculation as the one above, estimating that the average salary in a villa is about $500 pesos, or US $160, the transportation costs would amount to $28 pesos, or 6% of the monthly salary.

While I am making quick generalizations and calculations, I can’t help but think there’s a link between the widespread poverty and stark inequality, and the power of the drug lords. In Argentina, the relatively better economic situation of the villas must have something to do with the fact that narcos don’t hold anywhere near as much authority as their Rio counterparts.

It later occurred to me that a statement I heard from an Argentine artisan along Copacabana’s beach, underlies my hypothesis: “Acá hay pocos caciques pero muchos indios. En Buenos Aires hay muchos caciques, pero pocos indios.” (Here there are few chiefs, but lots of Indians. In Buenos Aires, there are lots of chiefs, but few Indians).

He went on to explain that the Argentine disregard for rules and their innate craftiness, contrasted by the deference and laidback attitude of Brazilians, is the reason why villas in Argentina are more dangerous than favelas despite being relatively better off. Similarly, as he smiled, he told me that this cunningness is why Argentines are doing so well in Rio’s tourism sector.

Futebol and Fútbol

Hours upon arriving in Rio, I was treated to another Argentine football humiliation at the hands of the Brazilians. The latest derby, albeit a ‘friendly’ in England, ended 3-0 for the samba squad.

When observing the surprisingly indifferent carioca reaction in the bars and on the streets, as well as reading newspaper headlines the next day, I could tell that this rivalry continues to mean more to Argentines than it does to Brazilians. Brazil continues to be a laidback football superpower, while Argentina remains an obsessed great power.

A few hours after Brazil’s victory, I crossed Rio to the Maracanã to watch a local derby between Vasco da Gama and Fluminense. I was curious in seeing how a carioca clasico would compare to a similar rivalry in Buenos Aires, say a San Lorenzo-Velez match up.

While I was pleasantly surprised to observe the relative calm and order of the favelas, I was utterly disappointed by the relative calm and order at the futebol match.

I might as well enjoyed the Maracanã on my own (with a Brahma, of course):

Once the world’s largest stadium, having held over 200,000 fans for the 1950 World Cup Final, and can now can hold around 80,000, the Maracanã was only a third full! The tour guide explained that the Fluminense fans are a wealthier bunch and not all that passionate. They don’t make the trip to the Maracanã since they would rather watch the games in the comfort of their upper class homes. Below is the Fluminense stadium section:

Vasco’s torcida (hardcore fans) managed to make a decent showing (pictured below), but still paled in comparison to the craziness of Argentina’s barra bravas. In Argentina, a match between two teams of Vasco and Fluminense’s stature would almost certainly sell out a 40,000 stadium, and the atmosphere would be far more intense.

Exemplifying that this wasn’t an off-night for the torcidas, were two stadium regulations which would never be permitted in Argentina.

First, fans were allowed to buy beer during the match. In Argentina, this would be a recipe for a riot. Secondly, the seats along the lateral parts of the field, where the middle and upper priced seats are, do not segregate opposing team’s fans. Once again, down here this would be a disaster waiting to happen.

As I began to draw these conclusions regarding the relative calm of Rio’s favelas and futebol, I was thrown a curveball.

In the midst of the jogo bonito, the laidback beer drinking, and the melodic chanting and cheering at a Botafogo-Fluminense match that same week, a torcedero was killed.

At that point, I realized that a lot more joins Rio and Buenos Aires than what sets them apart.

World Cup 2006: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

2006-07-18T18:51:00.000-03:00

As the dust settles, it seems Zidane’s flagrant foul has captured more headlines than the Italian championship team. This bizarre distraction seems to be linked to the sensation that the World Cup is increasingly anti-climactic and unjust.

The head-butt heard round the world upstaged the most popular sporting final because millions of die hard fans have been let down by some or all of the following: controversial rules, inconsistent officiating, creativity crushing defensive strategies, frustrating under-achieving, and rampant unsportsmanlike behaviour.

Zizou’s split-second decision to spearhead Materazzi has managed to symbolize that which is the good, the bad and, the ugly of this World Cup. Given how the good has been overshadowed by the bad (and the ugly), I’ll save the best for last.

The Bad.

Anti-climax. Too much hype, too little football, and too popular a head-butt.

Like most fanatics, I twiddle my thumbs anxiously for the four years between each tournament to pass. In Canada, I’ve always been disappointed by the poor media coverage and general apathy towards the tournament (beyond certain immigrant groups).

After watching my first World Cup in Argentina, I have discovered what is to suffer from a severe mundial overdose, and consequent hangover.

The media coverage is insane. One TV channel, TyC Sports, offered 24-hour month-long broadcasting. This was complemented by at least four or five other channels doing their best to compete with the TyC stranglehold.

Given the endless air time dedicated to the tournament, every imaginable, trivial news item was reported. From cultural tours of the town hosting the national team’s pre-tournament training grounds, to what the players ate at each meal, what they did in their spare time, which family members paid them visits, what time they went to bed, and when Carlos Tevez had diarrhea - all 38 million Argentines were injected senselessly with information.

During these 30 days, the entire country, myself included, was in a state of intoxicated patriotic hypnosis. I tried to sober up and ask myself: “Is this drunken passion good for Argentina?” Part of the answer was a clear, yes. It brings people from all walks of life together, unites them in the name of a fantastic sport, and fills them with pride and hope.

On the other hand, people invest so much emotionally and physically, that they detach themselves from everything else that matters and should matter to them. Drug addiction has a similar effect. The submission is so deep, that Argentines are destined to suffer immensely (something which has been happening consistently for the past 20 years). Anything short of a World Cup championship is by definition anti-climactic and unjust.

Stepping outside of the Argentine do-or-die mind frame, any football fan will tell you that it is not just the sore losers who are suffering.

The sport is suffering. Beckham's pretty boy circus act epitomizes this decadence.

The highly touted tournament has been failing to deliver the best football for quite some time now. As such, each tournament leaves its die hard fans wanting a lot more, or having to settle for a spectacular head-butt.

The Ugly.

Football injustice. This collective let-down I am trying to describe is underpinned by a sense of injustice which football purists have been complaining about for some time now.

This unfairness is a combination of some or all of the following: controversial rules, inconsistent officiating, overpowering defensive strategies, frustrating under-achieving, and rampant unsportsmanlike behaviour.

Unfortunately my humble call for reform needs to be undertaken by one of the slowest evolving, highly secretive, all-powerful corporations of the world: FIFA. Instead of improving the tournament, it appears that the organizers are more preoccupied with finding ways to spend the €1.9bn earned in marketing revenue, the €700m raised from tournament sponsorship, not to mention the ticket sales.

Here are my proposed reforms:

1. Rule changes

Teams generally spend two years trying to qualify for an event which lasts a mere month. This is disproportionate. Anti-climax is almost an inherent outcome of the World Cup.

To ensure a more competitive and balanced tournament, I would double the amount of games and extend the duration of the tournament to two months. The format remains the same. As done in the qualifiers and other popular tournaments (such as the Champions League), each match-up would be played out in two games instead of one.

Having teams play each other twice would minimize the chances of a team going on a hot streak and making the World Cup by fluke (as they will have to play 14 games instead of 7 to win the tournament).

This would also would increase rivalry and excitement. Perhaps this would even encourage less experienced, but very skilled squads, particularly those from Africa to overcome first game jitters against more experienced teams and have a chance to redeem themselves after a poor start.

As it is, losing two games and having to say goodbye after such a long journey is too harsh.

Secondly, penalty kicks have to be scrapped. It’s unfair to decide a game with a one-on-one roll-of-a-die situation in a sport which prides itself on teamwork, tactics and creativity.

One solution would be to play endlessly until the sudden death golden goal is scored. The substitution of all 11 players would have to be allowed as players begin to drop like flies after two hours of play. This wouldn’t entail any serious changes, as there already are 23 players on each roster (some of whom never get playing time as it is).

Thirdly, the introduction of video replay. While I am not convinced of the need for video replay during matches (as it would bring time stoppage to a free flowing game), I am all for the retroactive penalization of dirty fouls and unsportsmanlike conduct (particularly diving). It would be great to see Cristiano Ronaldo get publicly fined and/or booked for his Greg Louganis impersonations. And if it can be proven that Materazzi taunted Zidane with racist insults than he should be punished as well.

Finally, having to sit a player out a game for having accumulated two yellows in separate matches is ridiculous in such a short tournament. Especially when yellows are handed out for dumb offences such as taking of your jersey to celebrate a goal. The number should be upped to three or four yellows.

2. Consistent officiating

I generally come to the defence of referees. It’s is so easy to blame everything on them, from Italy’s victory over Australia to Global Warming.

The World Cup is supposed to feature the best officials in the world, yet several matches, as in past tournaments, were decided by critical errors. The referees sent off a record number of players, yet glaring mistakes were rampant, and divers constantly went unnoticed. I wont list the controversies, but luckily someone over at Wikipedia has already.

With such a large pitch and 22 players to follow, one referee is simply not enough. A second referee needs to be added to ensure that they are close enough to the tackles to decipher legitimate fouls from dives.

3. Defense first strategies

World Cup 2006 was the second lowest scoring tournament in history (only after the even more abysmal 1990 championship). This is nothing new, as teams have been far more concerned with preventing goals than scoring them for quite some time.

This is a calculated strategy by most coaches. Some, such as Italy and France, have adopted a very conservative 4-4-1-1 arrangement, enabling their teams to defend with 8 players (leaving only one creative midfielder behind a lone striker).

Unfortunately, offensive minded teams, such as Brazil, did not do well in Germany. Their 4-2-2-2 formation is one of a kind. Defending with only a maximum of 6 players, Brazil took a calculated risk in putting their faith in the unparalleled talent of their stars. A risk most fans of the game want Brazil to take. Unfortunately, the Brazilian players that we all know did not show up to this tournament (something I address in the next point).

Then there is the schizophrenic case of Argentina. A creative, offensive minded team which gains a lead but then ends up emulating defensive European squads. Teams like Brazil and Argentina defend best when they maintain ball possession and continue attacking. Unfortunately, in tight games coach Pekerman was reluctant to play the team’s most feared offensive weapons. Against Germany he paid dearly for sitting on a 1-0 lead, instead of opting for Messi and going for the kill.

4. Underachieving stars. The likes of Rooney and Cristiano Ronaldo have disappointed in more ways than one.

What happened to the stars? The world’s best player, Ronaldinho, disappeared. Robinho, Adriano, Kaka and company barely showed up. Ronaldo, despite all of the fat and criticism, was Brazil’s biggest threat.

Rooney, disappointing. Lampard, nothing. Owen, injured. Ballack, the best we saw of him was a dive. Messi, more time on the bench than on the pitch.. Schevhenko, surrounded by the most mediocre of team mates. Totti, nice haircut.

Figo, Cristiano and Deco had their moments, but were distracted by their other hobbies: acting, diving and whining.

Are these disappointing performances due to these things I’ve been ranting about? Is too much pressure created a hyped-up, unjustly short tournament? Is relaxed refereeing failing to protect the stars? Or is strict officiating encouraging the stars to dive? Does anyone have a solution to overcome these stifling defensive strategies?

Since the stars couldn’t shine by heading the ball past defenders, they might as well end up learning how to head-butt defenders.

5. Unsportsmanlike behaviour.

I’ve already touched upon this already. Diving needs to be disciplined retroactively and severely. Ironically, FIFA could learn how to handle the problem by following in the footsteps of the violent National Hockey League. Last year the NHL began publicizing, fining and eventually suspending players for diving.

This being said, FIFA should be very careful in identifying what is acceptable and what is unacceptable when it comes to simulation. This article does a good job describing which simulations should be considered cheating and which ones are actually necessary in order to protect the star players (although I disagree with the author’s point regarding the penalty awarded at the end of the Italy-Australia game).

The Good.

Tevez and Ribery, unlike pretty boys Beckham and Ronaldo, exceeded expectations. Clearly, it's what's on the inside that counts.

Despite my endless ramblings on the bad and the ugly, a few good things can be salvaged from the mediocre tournament.

Best team. Given how tight and competitive each game was, particularly in the second round, there was no clear-cut ‘best’ team of the tournament.

Italy did what it had to do to win and that was defend for around 89 minutes and attack for the rest. They relied on the best defense in the world tostifle France’s creative players. Unfortunately they won in the most dubious of circumstances: penalty kicks, following the sending off of the World Cup’s star player.

Italy deserves more credit for how they beat Germany. It was probably the match of the tournament. When penalties were imminent Lippi made some bold changes, bringing on three forwards to win the game in regulation time. Something Argentina should have attempted instead of defending like a frightened turtle.

Best offensive display. Argentina put on a goal scoring clinic against Serbia and Montenegro, a team that during qualifications only conceded one goal. The 25-touches before Cambiasso’s finish and Tevez’s solo charge ranked as the second and third best goals of the tournament.

Best goal of the tournament. Maxi’s game-winning outside-the-area off-the-chest into-the-top-corner volley was almost as surprising and exciting as Zidane’s head-butt.

The best player. Tough call. Zidane’s performance against Brazil was jaw dropping. A Frenchman playing like a Brazilian against Brazil. Unbelievable. However, he was non-existent the first two games, got himself suspended for the third game, and we all know what he did with only 10 ten minutes left in the tournament.

Cannavaro was far more consistent than ZZ, but less spectacular since he is a defender. It would have been nice to see a defender get the prize for once. But then again, people are entertained by goals and not by tackles.

In a tournament in which taunts, dives, tackles, saves, penalties, bookings, and slurs ruled supreme it is no surprise that Zidane was sent off for a gross violation and yet still received the best player of the tournament.

Given all of this, Zizou’s head-butt, stands out as an almost dignified rebellion against those things which attempted to destroy the World Cup. When he apologized to all the kids of the world for his retaliation, he should have also said sorry for the sad state of soccer.

Salta and Jujuy

2006-06-22T00:34:00.000-03:00

I finally took a break from work and World Cup watching to write about a recent trip.

My father and I ventured off to the north-western provinces of Salta and Jujuy. Located on the Chilean and Bolivian borders, the region is not only geographically far removed from Buenos Aires (1500 km away), but is also culturally and politically isolated.

We flew into the city of Salta. At around 500,000 habitants, it is the largest city in the region.

Like many Latin American colonial cities, Salta breathes beauty and backwardness with the same breath.

Salta’s well conserved customs (staunch Catholicism and daily siestas), its postcard colonial architecture, combined with its feudal political and economic structures, sets the city centuries apart from bustling Buenos Aires.

One of the city’s most remarkable structures is the Church of San Francisco:

The northwest is known as one of the poorest regions in the country, however upon first glance one is oblivious to this reality.

The slums are carefully tucked away, the homeless are swept off the streets, and the infrastructure is surprisingly modern.

Locals are happy to express their support of the current provincial governor, Juan Carlos Romero. Presiding over his third term, Romero has achieved nationwide infamy for being an oligarch, repressing labour and indigenous movements, and having run as Carlos Menem’s Vicepresident during his failed 2003 election comeback attempt.

What is certain, is that the city is growing rapidly. Construction sites abound and tourism explodes. Population grew by 25% between 1991 and 2001. A guide told us that tourism has overtaken agriculture as the most important sector of the economy (I couldn’t find any evidence confirming this).

Our Movitrack excursion, called Nubes con Humahuaca, started off on the well known, but currently out-of-service path called el tren a las nubes (a very popular tourist train which travels through the Andes mountain range from Salta to Chile).

From Salta, we headed westwards, until we reached San Antonio de los Cobres at over 4000m above sea level. Upon entering the town, I felt an indescribable lightness. The unthinkable had happened - the only person under the age of forty on the trip, got altitude sickness.

I immediately asked the driver for some coca leaves; the regional breathing aid. The controversial substance is used by people in the Andean region to suppress hunger and fatigue, among other cultural and religious purposes. While trying to fight my dizziness, I began chewing on a wad of 15 leaves.

Soon enough the light-headedness became bearable. However, my hunger for exotic meats (such as llama beef), traditional empanadas, and stew remained as strong as ever. Given the success of the coca, I continued chewing for the rest of the trip and made sure to purchase coca tea to take back to Buenos Aires.

Our tour guide, who had a constant coca bulge in one of his cheeks, told us about the government hypocrisy regarding coca criminalization. It was illegal to produce, import and sell coca plant/leaves. Yet it was perfectly legal to have your personal amount and chew it wherever you wished. It seemed that just about every male in the region was chewing (sorry equal opportunists, it is considered unladylike for women to chew).

He told us that there is no scientific evidence demonstrating harmful effects of coca leaf chewing. I didn’t fully believe him, but when I started researching the issue, I couldn’t find any evidence arguing otherwise. I did, however, find further evidence of the ‘hypocrisy’ he was arguing against.

Evo Morales, Bolivia’s President, who is taking on the world in his battle to legalize coca but keep cocaine illegal, has said: "Coca is not cocaine..." How can it be possible, "that coca is legal for Coca-Cola but it isn't for native peoples and peasants?" Under a special exception in the 1961 UN Single Convention on Narcotic Drugs, the use of coca leaves as a flavouring agent without their alkaloid component is permissible, an exception that Coca-Cola continues to take advantage of.

The irony of Coca-Cola being a popular drink in an impoverished indigenous town, such as San Antonio de los Cobres, makes one wonder if this region could prosper if they were allowed to grow and commercialize popular coca products, such as coca tea.

After walking around the arid, desolate town, I came upon a school. Curious kids gathered around me and started asking me to take their pictures, so they could see their images on the tiny digital display. Still recovering from the dizziness, I then said my goodbyes and we headed off on the dry, altiplano trail.

At the next stop I surprisingly awoke to the sight of what appeared to be a never-ending snow plain. I felt like I had been transported back to a frozen lake in the dead of Canadian winter. White as far as the eyes could see, with a backdrop of the Andean mountain range.

We were now in the middle of the Salinas grandes, salt basin, located over 4000m of altitute, in the province of Jujuy.

Given the sheer size of the basin, it would appear that is an important source of income for the province. However, given the feudal relationship between land owners and peasants, the worker showed in this picture makes around $3 pesos (or US$1.00!) per day to work in the unhealthiest of conditions:

When I gave this man 2 pesos for allowing me to take his picture, I had no idea that I had just given him 2/3 of his daily salary, and therefore I couldn’t appreciate why he remained in his pose for a good five minutes after I had taken the picture.

We continued eastward, descending until we reached the Quebrada de Humahuaca valley, at around 2000m above sea level. Declared by UNESCO as a World Heritage site, the valley is not only visually stunning, but of critical importance as a trade route dating back to 10,000 years ago.

Our first stop in the valley was the picturesque town of Pumamarca, set against the backdrop of a mountain called “seven colours” (the picture doesn’t do the real thing justice as the purples, greens, blues, oranges, and reds don’t really come through):

We then visited the Pucará ruins in an ancient fortress city which was used to watch over and protect the valley:

The northernmost point of the journey was the town of Humahuaca. Very calm, almost frozen in time (if it weren’t for the tourism). We strolled for an hour or so to observe people go about their daily errands:

On our way back to Jujuy we drove past the town of Maimará and the mountain behind it known as the “painter’s palette”:

When was time to return to our original destination, we took the long-winded scenic route. The dry, semi-desert landscapes rapidly transformed into humid, jungle-like slopes, known as the yunga:

For the first time in two days I was finally able to fill my lungs with the oxygen they had been deprived of. Soon enough I was back in the polluted streets of Buenos Aires, contemplating if my next adventure would take me to the even denser jungles of Misiones and the majestic Iguazu falls.

Actually, I was really thinking about how Argentina would fare against the largely unknown Ivory Coast squad.

Argentina's Beef

2006-04-10T12:50:00.000-03:00

Argentina

’s relationship with red meat is a bloody one.

The fertile Pampas region provides for some of the tastiest grass-fed cows in the world. The average Argentine eats almost 150 pounds of beef per year. The average American eats less than half this amount.

After living 20 years in Canada and constantly hearing about how red meat consumption is linked to soaring obesity rates, I’ve always wondered how Argentines stay so slim.

Is the meat down here leaner than the beef up north? Is this carnivorous consumption tempered with a healthy diet? Do the people here walk and exercise more?

I have a feeling it’s combination of all three: leaner meat, better overall diet, and more exercise.

So when people go off about the dangers of red meat, I generally reach for the mute button (until my heart tells me otherwise).

The best part about Argentine road trips: the asado pit stops.

Since arriving in Argentina over a year ago, I have gone on a beef eating binge.

I eat steak about three times a week (sometimes more). Add: meat empanadas, salsa bolognesa on my pasta, and the occasional hamburger, I end up eating red meat almost every day.

Given my multinational beef eating experiences, I am the first to promote the superior quality of Argentina’s meat.

A good slab rarely requires any condiments beyond salt. The soft-as-a-baby’s bottom tenderness usually calls for a butter knife and minimal chewing. The reasonable prices make my habit affordable - depending on the cut, a kilo of steak at my supermarket runs from $8 to $12 pesos or $2.50 to $4.00 US. Also, the timeliness in which a chunk of cow flesh becomes my meal (about two minutes) makes my habit extremely convenient.

A typical Argentine dish: flank steak with grilled potatoes and vegetables.

However, this past month my addiction has come under attack.

In an effort to control double digit inflation (12% last year), Argentina’s President has asked citizens to do the unthinkable: to stop consuming red meat until prices drop. Last year, beef prices rose 28.8%!

When Kirchner realized that his 6-month ban on beef exports wasn’t doing enough to lower prices, he called upon Argentines to take a stand against meat producers. He urged people to boycott the national dish, and eat chicken and fish instead.

The demand for beef is so strong that the President’s calls for the boycott were largely ignored, and prices have remained more or less the same. The ban on exports, however, has forced producers to sign an agreement with the government to reduce the price on 11 cuts of beef by 20%, pictured below:

(borrowed from Clarin)

Translation of the cuts:

Cuadril = Rump
Bife con lomo = Sirloin
Bife de costilla = T-bone
Bife Ancho = Rib eye
Nalga = Round
Vacío = Flank
Asado = Short ribs
Matambre = Flank cut unique to Argentina
Entraña = Skirt
Falda = Ribs steak
Paleta = Shoulder roast
Osobuco = Shin
Garrón = Shank
Carnaza = Stewing beef
Roast beef = Roast beef
Carne Picada = Ground beef
Hueso con carne = Bone with meat
Azotillo = no translation found

Even though the best steaks (lomo and cuadril) are excluded from the price controlled list, I am sure the general population will welcome the lowered prices on the most popular and accessible cuts (asado and vacío).

This move should prove to be a popular one for Kirchner, who faces elections in 2007.

But given Argentina’s accelerated economic growth, mounting inflation and the inelastic demand for beef, one wonders how much longer price controls like these can last.

March 24, 1976.

2006-03-27T18:08:00.000-03:00

March 24, 1976, will be remembered as one of the darkest days in Argentina’s history.

On that day, a military junta overthrew a democratically elected government. Over the next 8 years, up to 30,000 ‘dissidents’ were disappeared.

In what was officially labelled the National Reorganization Process, the dictatorship systematically terrorized its citizenry on ideological grounds. The government closed congress, banned political parties, abolished freedom of speech and freedom of press.

In what was claimed to be a war against terrorist and communist groups, the military government persecuted, tortured, and killed citizens who opposed or questioned the dictatorship, expressed leftist views, or simply appeared in the address books of people considered subversive.

According to the National Commission on the Disappearance of Persons (CONADEP): among the victims still missing and those who were subsequently released from secret detention centres are people from all walks of life:

Blue-collar workers 30.2 %
Students 21.0 %
White-collar workers 17.9 %
Professionals 10.7 %
Teachers 5.7 %
Self-employed and others 5.0 %
Housewives 3.8 %
Military conscripts and members of the security forces 2.5 %
Journalists 1.6 %
Actors, performers, etc. 1.3 %
Nuns, priests, etc 0.3 %

CONADEP, established by the democratic government which followed the dictatorship, produced a harrowing document entitled Nunca Más. The torture testimonies are deeply disturbing, yet vital to understanding what truly happened during this so-called ‘reorganization process’. These testimonies are essential for constructing a collective memory that forces the country to learn from its past and help build a different future.

This past week I was impressed by the national and international efforts to remember what happened thirty years ago, on March 26.

In Washington, the National Security Archive declassified several key U.S. government documents: “The documents record Washington's initial reaction to the military takeover. ‘I do want to encourage them. I don't want to give the sense that they're harassed by the United States,’ Secretary of State Kissinger ordered his staff after his assistants warned him that the junta would initiate a bloodbath following the coup.”

In Toronto, my parents, along with several other Argentines and Canadians, took part in the organization of the 30^th Anniversary Committee, which featured several films, a play, a concert, an art exhibit, and a roundtable discussion.

On Thursday I attended an event in which Ernesto Sábato, the famous author and former President of CONADEP, led a remembrance ceremony at the Ministry of Education (pictured above). Over 200 students attended the event. They watched a remarkable documentary by Roman Lejtman, titled “The 24^th of March, 1976-2006. From horror to hope”. The students then were able to ask questions to those adults on the panel who lived through the dictatorship.

The following day I traveled to the National Military School, in the Buenos Aires suburbs (picture on the left). President Nestor Kirchner, in the presence of his cabinet and high ranking military officials, gave a powerful speech. He expressed his disapproval with the impunity enjoyed by many of those responsible for state terrorism. He said that he expected that the judiciary would soon rule that the amnesty granted to these suspects will be deemed unconstitutional.

Earlier in the month, Kirchner succeeded in making March 24 a permanent holiday, to be called the "National Day of Memory for Truth and Justice." While the move is undoubtedly well-intentioned, I worry that Argentine society, particularly its children, will not take it upon themselves to remember the meaning of this date when on holiday.

Considering how dedicated this government, particularly the President and the Ministry of Education, were in organizing the numerous events and commemorations throughout the week, I hope I am proved wrong in the years to come.

Perito to Punta / Argentina vs. Uruguay

2006-03-10T14:33:00.000-03:00

During my hiatus I made a couple of interesting, polar opposite trips: first, to a frozen floating land mass, Perito. Then, to a bumping beach spot, Punta.

In December, I spent a few days in the south of the country gazing at glaciers. The sights were breathtaking.

First, we made the mandatory visit to the Perito Moreno glacier.

We then hiked on the Perito Moreno for a couple of hours.

The next day we took a boat tour of the Upsala, Onelli and Spegazzini glaciers.

Pictured is Onelli, a glacier and lake littered with icebergs (and my sister).

After spending New Year’s in Buenos Aires, I took the ferry across the river to the renowned regional hotspot, Punta del Este. Although the Ibiza/Hampton’s/St. Tropez of Latin America is located in Uruguay, the beautiful beach town is traditionally taken over by Argentines.

This year was somewhat different. There was a notable increase in the amount of non-Argentines (for reasons discussed below). Many Europeans, North Americans and other Latin Americans flocked to Uruguay to see what the hype is all about.

Even Tara Reid and Naomi Campbell spent a few days, or should I say nights, partying and plundering in Punta. At a couple of parties I had the pleasure of talking to an intoxicated Tara who now makes a living partying. According to her Taradise website, “She’s Improving World Relations: One Party at a Time!”

Given Argentina’s and Uruguay’s recent conflict, Tara could have partied a little harder.

A dispute over the construction of two paper mills on the Uruguayan side of the border has led to an Argentine blockade of the bridges joining the two countries. The two brother nations are now involved in their biggest conflict in recent history.

Argentine protestors claim that the shared river will be polluted by the mills. Despite the complaints lobbied by citizens and the government, Uruguay is going ahead with the Finnish-Spanish construction plan – the largest foreign investment in Uruguayan history!

The European companies are planning to use a bleaching process which involves chlorine dioxide – a chemical which is harmful to humans and the environment. There is a new, cleaner bleaching process which is mandatory in the European Union, however the companies will not be using it in Uruguay because of the higher costs.

In response to this looming threat, Argentines living in the border town of Gualeguaychu have blockaded the border for most of January and February. Given Uruguay’s dependence on Argentina for tourists and imports, this protest has hurt the tiny country’s economy and soured what has traditionally been an excellent relationship.

In the past two weeks, the battle has become heated and created international headlines. Argentina is threatening to take Uruguay to the International Court of Justice in the Hague. Uruguay is menacing with legal recourse for Argentina’s lack of action with regards to the road blockades.

Mercosur, the Southern Common Market, is another potential victim to the conflict. The multilateral organization, which has been invigorated by the election of left-of-centre presidents in South America, could face a setback if middle ground is not reached soon.

If only Tara had stayed in Punta a little longer…

Aside from the paper plant dispute, Punta del Este has seen a decline in the share of Argentine tourists for other important reasons.

Another factor is that Punta has become too expensive for 99.9% of the Argentine population. Since the 2001 Argentine economic crisis and peso devaluation, Uruguay, which has long been a more expensive country, became prohibitively pricey. Gas alone costs two-and-a-half times more. The cover charge to enter Tequila, the most exclusive night club, ranges from US$40 to $60 per person. Tables in the VIP run from $2000 to $4000! Across the river, the highest priced clubs in Buenos Aires run about $30 pesos (or US $10).

Another reason why Punta is becoming less ‘Argentine’, is the recent tourism boom which has been sparked by Argentina’s weak peso. Most people from Europe and North America who visit Punta, usually come via Buenos Aires after hearing about how such a world class city is now a bargain. Upon arriving in Buenos Aires, they are told by Argentines that they must visit Punta. Once they cross the river they are shocked to find a) everything fixed at New York prices b) a town with beautiful beaches and a non-stop-nightlife that is not invaded by alcoholic American spring breakers.

However, given Tara’s recent trip, Punta may soon become another Taradise.

Yanquis

2005-11-28T20:17:00.000-03:00

The origin of the term Yankee is blurry.

If anyone cares, some claim Yankee was a derogatory term the English slapped on the Dutch in the early New England days. Another theory has it that the indigenous population pronounced “English”, as Yengis, and eventually Yankee stuck. Some claim it’s a variation of the French word anglais…

Whatever the origin, the use of the term Yankee (or yanqui as it’s spelt down here) is common place in Argentina and has one unmistakeable meaning: a US citizen.

Note: since Canadians are always confused with Americans, they often fall into the yanqui category. Since the term is not derogatory and I don’t have any serious reservations about being mistaken for an American, I have come to accept being mislabelled as a yanqui-argentino.

Most Argentines, myself included, generally enjoy the growing presence yanqui expats or at the very least get great laughs from mocking the stereotypical yanqui tourists. Many of the expats I’ve met down here are well-educated, cultured, and have embraced Argentine society with a passion I have never witnessed.

My opinion of the gringo community in Costa Rica was not so positive. During my year in Ticolandia, I quickly learned that San Jose is a giant casino and brothel for thousands of degenerate Americans, who flock from such cultural bastions as Tampa Bay and Key West, Florida.

Degenerates aside, most people visit Costa Rica for its natural beauty. The result is that the tiny paradise of biodiversity is overcrowded, overflowing with tourist traps, and the locals are left with an image of the American population which is not too encouraging.

While Argentina does have its natural paradises, most foreigners come for the cultural activities - which thanks to the latest economic crisis are available at bargain prices. Visitors are almost always pleasantly surprised by the passionate porteño way-of-life, the crazy nightlife, the huge cuts of steak and Italian delicacies, the fútbol fever, and the rich tradition in tango, music, literature, arts and cinema.

While there are countless tourist traps and sex tourism businesses, Buenos Aires is so large and offers so much more, that it is not in danger of becoming a 1950s Havanna or a modern day San José.

The expats I have met and befriended in the past few months provide some anecdotal evidence for this generalization.

In the social sector, I became good friends with the director of HelpArgentina, Lloyd Nimetz, as well as a various inspirational members of the team. The organization provides a fundraising bridge between the international donor community and the Argentine social sector.

Although it is a relatively new organization, they have undertaken the ambitious mission of connecting over 30 hardworking, yet often isolated and financially constrained nonprofits with the global philanthropic marketplace. By becoming part of HelpArgentina’s network, an NGO is certified as a transparent, efficient and ethical organization. This certification in turn leads to greater credibility and visibility in the international donor community.

This past month I attended their award ceremony titled Social Ambassadors 2005, Solidarity without Borders. I watched five people working overseas to help the Argentine social sector receive recognition for their work.

Picture: Here are members of the HelpArgentina staff after the award ceremony.

Two weeks later, HelpArgentina held their first annual International Solidarity Night. The event mobilized 1200 people to participate in 80 dinners in 24 cities, in 11 countries, in order to raise money for 26 different social organizations in Argentina.

My family, along with Lloyd, hosted a dinner to support Los Piletones neighbourhood council. My grandfather, who has been volunteering in the barrio for a few years now, has always pointed out that a huge obstacle to development is the lack of sustainable funding for vital infrastructure. He was pleasantly surprised by how such a young, expat-led organization, such as HelpArgentina, could demonstrate such a strong sense of international solidarity.

Picture: My family, along with Lloyd from HelpArgentina (standing far right) and Monico Ruejas from Los Pilotenos (sitting down, far left) at the International Solidarity Night.

My father, who lives in Toronto, also held a dinner for the same cause by inviting about 20 of his Argentine friends to a typical Argentine dinner at his house.

Buenos Aires’ social scene also has its share of yanqui movers and shakers. YesBA, aka Young Expatriates' Society of Buenos Aires, provides an online bulletin for expats to get together, find someone to practice their Spanish with, find roommates, etc. On the first Thursday of every month, YesBA holds a wine tasting/art gallery gathering for expats to mingle.

Through the blogosphere, I have kept up with several interesting expat journals.

Robert’s line of sight covers a broad array of topics, from a insightful post on the Cromañon tragedy to photos of the latest stencil graffiti. I had the chance to meet Robert and get to know his Urban Explorer walking tours first-hand when he took me on his Recoleta Cemetery tour. His knowledge of Buenos Aires history is impressive. I highly recommend him to anyone wanting to know more about Buenos Aires, particularly off-the-beaten-path.

A couple of more expat blogs which have caught my eye are: GoodAirs and Buenos Aires, City of Faded Elegance. At GoodAirs, Ian and Cintra cover a wide variety of contemporary issues from an inquisitive, and often humourous, journalistic point of view. At City of Faded Elegance, Jeff, a librarian by trade, always provides a thoughtful take on literary Argentina, as well as covering other themes.

Lastly - as I realize what time it is - I have Monday night soccer games with a group of American and European expats. The level of play is surprisingly competitive. Not quite as cut throat as playing with a bunch of Argentines, but at least the sportsmanship means that we can all enjoy post-game drinks and pizza without holding any game-time grudges…

Boca vs. River

2005-11-08T17:41:00.000-03:00

Despite their miserable season, River fans were dedicated to packing their stadium and draping it in red and white.

After years of listening to second-hand hype I was finally able to feel a superclásico with my own pores. The game was poorly played and ended in a miserable 0-0 tie. However, the unforgettable and at times terrifying entertainment was provided by the hardcore hinchas (fans) and the fear producing barra bravas (hooligans).

The night before the derby a friend of mine surprised me with an extra ticket. Only after dishing out 80 pesos (approx. US$26), did I find out how rare my ticket was. I would be going to the game under the most dodgy of circumstances: as one of the 4,500 visiting Boca fans in a stadium packed with 60,000-plus River fans.

In the days leading up to the match, tens of thousands of Boca fans spent hours lining up, fighting with one another and the police, for this scarce sum of seats. Essentially, landing one of these tickets was as impossible as crossing Avenida 9 de Julio in just one green light – a street which is dubbed as the ‘widest avenue in the world’, about 16 lanes wide, and takes about 3 to 5 minutes to cross.

Given the poor level of play on the field, by far the most exhilarating part of the match was entering the stadium. The security surrounding River Plate’s stadium gave one the feeling that a hated foreign leader was visiting (think Bush in Mar de Plata). Boca fans took a tightly barricaded path to the stadium, lined with riot geared police atop horses.

As I became engulfed by hundreds of Boca fans making their way to the first of three ticket check-points, I sensed an indescribable tension I have never felt before. The equation behind my uneasiness seemed to boil down to a combination of the following: an hincha’s unconditional love for his team + a few Quilmes beers + a joint or two + a possible criminal record + a life long disdain for the police + most importantly, an ingrained hatred for all that is River Plate = inevitable violent encounters.

Since River fans were pre-emptively kept a few blocks away from the Boca fans, the police were the only enemies within striking range. I witnessed several intoxicated fans insult, spit, throw rocks at the cops. Being the professional police service that it is, Buenos Aires’ finest responded in kind. Batons were wielded liberally, graphic insults were thrown right back, and horses were used to trample a few dozen people. At one point I got caught up in one of the mini-stampedes and got thrown against a tree. Luckily I escaped unharmed. As I peeled myself off the tree, my mind was filled with second thoughts about entering.

The turmoil then took a turn for the surreal. Several dilapidated buses, inexplicably escorted by police cruisers, arrived at the crowded check point, which then parted like the Red Sea. La 12, Boca’s barra brava, had arrived. The chaotic herd of fans suddenly displayed a sense of deference that is usually reserved for religious ceremonies, they chanted in unison, and patiently waited for the buses to pass the check-point.

La 12 was exempted from presenting tickets or stopping at any security posts. Once the buses entered, the mob’s impatience and belligerence resumed, and my awe of the entrance I had just witnessed was overtaken by the original sense of fear. I badly wanted to photograph the events, but taking out a digital camera seemed at tad risky.

The only sense of comfort I had was that I was going to the game with a die hard Boca fan who has attended countless River-Boca classics. On numerous occasions he repeated: “Keep your ticket in your pocket. Don’t make eye contact with anyone who looks drugged. And if someone bigger than you asks for your money, give it up, no questions asked. Don’t take out your camera till we're in. Most importantly, don’t lose your ticket.”

When we finally made it to the third and final check point at the stadium gates, I pulled out my ticket, expecting to pass it through the electronic turnstile. How naïve of me. No one was using the turnstiles. Tickets were to be handed over to high ranking barra brava men, including Rafa Di Zeo, the presumed Boca head honcho, who is still wanted to appear in court for inciting violence. Police and River Plate officials quietly watched the corruption carry itself out.

Exercising the god-like powers of a mobster, I watched El Rafa decide who got to enter the stadium and who didn’t. At one point, he pointed to a guy and said: “What have you done for Boca!? How come you didn’t come to Brazil? And now you want to get in??!!” The guy simply couldn’t protest. His unused ticket, like my recycled ticket, would probably end up in someone else’s hands.

After witnessing a few more incidents between crazed fans and the repression happy police, I was relieved to finally be inside the stadium. Once we squeezed our way to the very top row of Boca’s standing room only section, I realized that I was attending a soccer game and not trying to sneak into a prison.

Boca fans, about 5,000 of them, crammed into this standing-only section of the stadium and as usual, made their presence felt.

The level of play was so poor that it’s not worth commenting on. Early on people around me started displaying their disgust for first-place Boca’s laidback attitude in a game they were supposed to win against a struggling River. By half time everyone around me was convinced that a fix was on to end the game in a tie, appeasing the fans and keeping tensions to a minimum.

Indeed, the 0-0 result meant that everyone left the stadium in a strikingly different manner in which they entered it. People were quiet, non-violent, and disappointed that they dished out so much cash to watch a hyped up match end up in a scoreless draw.

I was happy enough to survive my first superclásico.

Kirchner, Charly and Messi

2005-10-17T19:31:00.000-03:00

During my 50-day-or-so blogstinence, I’ve come up with countless things to write about. Instead of picking one theme like I usually do, I will discuss three strikingly different brushes with Argentine fame.

ENCOUNTER #1:

One afternoon I went to the presidential palace: la Casa Rosada (yes, the “Pink House”).

I attended a press conference announcing the passing of a bill entitled: the Law on Education Financing. The law promises to increase education funding as a percentage of national wealth (GDP) from its current figure of 4% to 6% by 2010. This goal is on par with what the most advanced countries spend on education.

It was incredible to witness the jubilation of the people in attendance. The president, his wife, the vice-president, the minister of education, the 23 provincial governors, along with cultural icons, such as the Nobel Peace prize winner, Adolfo Esquivel, legendary author Ernesto Sábato, and singer Leon Gieco were on hand to preside over the announcement of the law.

The event was particularly entertaining when it was officially over. Herds of teacher union leaders made their way over to President Kirchner to get their pictures taken. I was caught up in the hysteria and luckily had my camera with me. I managed to meet the jovial, clumsy and lazy eyed leader, shake his hand and get a photo taken with him. Unfortunately my only posed shot came out blurry. This “Forrest Gumped” shot is the best footage I have of the encounter:

ENCOUNTER #2

At 3 am on a Saturday night, I stumbled into a club called Cocoliche. I made my way to the second floor in search of some friends. I came upon a room guarded by a bouncer. Judging by the tight security, I made it my mission to get in.

I decided to test out a new theory which I’ve been developing: English speakers automatically acquire a certain level of authority and respect simply for speaking English.

So, I confidently, yet politely, talked to the doorman with the least amount of Spanish as possible. My job was made a lot easier, when the door opened and I managed to peek inside and saw that a 6’4” American friend had already made into the private room. At this point I told the bouncer: “I am with el tall-o”. Magically, he said, “Ah, perdoname” and opened the door.

Once inside, I noticed that the room was quite small with only about 25-30 people. Everyone was focussed on a middle aged man singing and playing the guitar. Even though I was only standing 3 meters away from him I only saw a lanky, dishevelled Woody Allen look-alike.

I then clued in that this was Charly Garcia – possibly Argentina’s greatest rock star ever. Although he is virtually unknown outside of Latin America, Charly has produced music that is comparable to Springsteen’s popular classics in the USA. But what makes Charly unique is his combination of undeniable, ageless talent with eccentricity and bad boy behaviour which places him in a league with Ozzy Osbourne’s antics.

After covering several Rolling Stone’s tunes and swigging from a bottle of hard liquor, Charly took a much needed break. During this interval someone in the room grabbed the mic and began singing to Charly. At one point he got so close to his face that Charly pushed him away. The person didn’t seem to get the message, continued singing, and then got in Charly’s face again. This time Charly reacted with a couple of quick right crosses to the face of this crazed fan.

Before I knew it, the fragile, legendary rock star was clubbing an even frailer fan. The fight lasted for about 8 seconds before some people escorted the fan out of the room. Charly reluctantly returned to his show. After a couple of more songs, Charly clearly had had enough for the night. He walked out of the room.

As we were making sense of the impromptu concert/fight, everyone began spilling into the next room. On a couch, Charly was chatting up a much younger lady. Four meters from him stood the bruised man who took the beating. It turns out that this man was the boyfriend of the club’s owner. Charly didn’t seem to mind that he wasn’t kicked out of the club.

It was 5am and all was normal in the world of Charly and Argentine rocanrol.

ENCOUNTER #3

Ok, this story doesn’t really involve an up close encounter. But since I’m such a big fútbol fan, being 30 meters away from an incredibly talented player is good enough to qualify.

A couple of weekends ago I attended Argentina’s second last World Cup qualifying match. The game was meaningless since Argentina had already qualified. Nevertheless, the game offered the coach the opportunity to test a promising star.

The entire country was interested in how 18 year old prodigy Lionel Messi, who has repeatedly been compared to Maradona, would fair in his first start on the national team.

The diminutive, 5’6”-169cm, Messi did not disappoint. In fact, he was by far the best player on the field. His ability to use his left foot to dart through the opposing team’s defence was very Maradonesque. His explosive first step, blinding speed, and unending hunger to attack were the highlights of the game.

In a single match, Messi already accomplished what most players take years if not months to accomplish: ensure a spot on the national roster for the 2006 World Cup to be held in Germany next summer.

On another fútbol note, this past weekend I made it to my first superclásico: Boca vs. River. The atmosphere was spectacular. I was scared to death, goose bumped, and uplifted in what was the best sporting atmosphere I’ve ever been a part of. It didn’t matter that the game ended 0-0 and the level of play was horrible. I will soon discuss the game in more detail and post some pics.

Diego Armando Maradona

2005-08-25T13:54:00.000-03:00

If Argentina can be symbolized by one person, then that figure has to be Diego Armando Maradona.

For those not too familiar with ‘El Diego’, here’s a brief recap (otherwise skip to the next section):

Diego is born in a Buenos Aires slum in 1960. At 3 he receives his first soccer ball. At 10 he begins flirting with fame. At 16 he is on the national soccer squad. At 18 he leads the national team to victory at the Football World Youth Championship.

At 21 he plays in his first World Cup; he is ejected for a violent retaliation. The team makes an early exit. He lands a $8 million contract with Barcelona. He discovers cocaine. He changes clubs and goes to Naples. He discovers more cocaine and the local mafia, the Camorra. He single handedly takes Naples to the top of Europe. He is deified in Naples.

At 25 he travels to his second World Cup. Single handedly carries Argentina to the cup. He is unanimously declared the best footballer in the world. Back in Naples he is busted for cocaine. Banned for 15 months.

At 29 he travels to his third World Cup. Single handedly carries an even weaker national side to the final. He plays with ankles swollen twice their size. I saw them in a magazine. This time they lose in the final. Diego cries. The nation cries. He is battered yet doesn’t quit.

At 33 he travels to a record tying fourth World Cup. I go to see him score his last goal in Foxborough, MA. Argentina beats Greece 4-0. A brilliant display. It turns out he cheats. This time he is taking a performance enhancing drug: ephedrine. Diego cries again. The nation cries again. The team is eliminated two games later.

In 1997 he retires from football. His career with cocaine carries on. In 2000, he suffers from an overdose induced heart attack. He turns to Fidel Castro’s health care system for help. He becomes quite obese during his therapy. Gastric bypass surgery in Colombia. At least 60 pounds are lost. He becomes Vice President of Boca Juniors Football Club. He starts his own talk show. He claims to have conquered his coke addiction. Argentina still loves him.

***********

Now that I have summarized Diego’s career, let me get to the point I was making. Argentina’s rollercoaster ups-and-downs, its ever diverging qualities and defects, are curiously symbolized by Maradona’s chaotic career:

Argentina

’s desire to be admired by the planet, was momentarily fulfilled when Maradona took center stage of the soccer world and became the greatest, if not second greatest, footballer ever.

In 1986 Maradona single handedly won the World Cup.

Argentina’s do-or-die, no-holds-barred attitude was epitomized by Maradona’s determination and sacrifice on the field.

Top: Maradona garnered the utmost attention of the synchronized Belgian defenders.
Bottom: the karate kicking Koreans figured out the best way to stop Maradona.

Argentina’s embarrassing defeat at the hands of the English in the battle over the Falkland’s was revenged by Maradona’s legendary performance at the 1986 World Cup.

Maradona is captured using what he calls the “Hand of God” to punch in the first goal against the English. His second goal, a stunning individual performance which is often recognized as the best goal of all time, sealed the victory. This past week Diego recognized that he punched the ball into the net and doesn’t regret it. He then referred to the English capturing Las Malvinas (Falkland Islands) and said: “el que roba a un ladrón, tiene 100 años de perdón.” Translation: he who robs a thief is pardoned for a 100 years.

Argentina’s bold, and often destructive, attempts to join the First World are comparable to Maradona’s narcissistic efforts to become a God among men.

The title of his autobiography, “I Am The Diego”, alludes to the unparalleled fame he has acquired. Maradona is so famous that he can refer to himself in the third person (Shucks! That means that my name is already taken). I found a great quote from a former teammate, and soccer great, Jorge Valdano: “Poor Diego. For so many years we have repeatedly told him, ‘You're a god’, ‘You're a star’ ... we forgot to tell him the most important thing: ‘You're a man’.”

Argentina’s indifference towards its impoverished and marginalized, makes it easy for Maradona to forget his humble origins.

Maradona (center) in his hometown of Villa Fiorita, a slum outside Buenos Aires, spending time with family shortly before moving to Europe and making millions.

Argentina’s bumpy boom-and-bust cycle has been mirrored by Maradona’s rapid rise from poverty to extreme wealth and then an even faster fall into financial trouble.

Maradona with his 1996 Ferrari F355 Spider. He eventually had to sell it. It is now be auctioned on the internet. Go here to bid on it. The highest bid so far is $670,550.

Argentina takes pride in its beauty. Both on and off the field Maradona is a proud show off.

No comment.

Argentina is a society replete with corruption and cheating. Maradona a poster boy for devious behaviour.

In the 1994 World Cup my dad and I drove down to Foxborough, MA, to watch Maradona score his last national goal, in a 4-0 victory over Greece. The following game he was busted for using a performance enhancing drug: ephedrine. I actually thought there was something suspicious about his psychotic celebration.

Argentina’s obsession with leisure and entertainment has been taken to danger levels by Maradona.

After almost 20 years of cocaine use, and several overdoses, Maradona had a near fatal heart attack. Enough was enough. He sought medical attention in Fidel Castro’s medical paradise. According to this Mexican newspaper, cocaine, sex and videotapes were readily available at the clinic.

Argentina’s ever expanding national debt has been replicated by the equal or greater extension of Maradona’s waistline.

During his rehab the 1.68 metre (5’6”) Maradona inflated to 121 Kgs (266 pounds)!

Argentina’s propensity to surgically alter one’s body was embodied by Maradona’s easy way out of obesity.

A post-stomach stapling Maradona on his new talk show, “La noche del diez”. During the first episode he received is eternal rival, Pele. They chatted, reminisced, laughed, sang, headed a ball back and forth, and talked about Pele’s son’s drug problems. Pele told Maradona that he is a role model to his son for having conquered his addiction.

Argentina’s complex love-hate relationship with politicians is exemplified by Maradona’s dubious choice of political friends.

Top: Maradona with new friend Hugo Chavez. Maradona later said: “The truth is I like women, but I fell in love with him (Chavez).”
Middle: Maradona showing his long time friend Castro, a tattoo of Fidel’s face on his leg.
Bottom: Maradona showing off his famous Che tattoo.

Maradona also spent time some time in Libya with Qadaffi and trained his son, the captain of the national soccer team, with his good friend Ben Johnson (yes, the scandal ridden, ex-fastest man in the world). A close source tells me Ben and Diego indulged in copious amounts of cocaine, while frequently complaining about the lack of prostitutes and alcohol in the Libya.

Argentina

is proud of its twisted sense of humour, however when shots are taken at Maradona, reactions are quite mixed.

Top: Brazilian “Super Size Me” gag on Maradona’s cocaine diet.
Middle: A piggish Maradona using a straw to snort a cocaine laced field.
Bottom: Instead of playing soccer, “The Maradona’s Team” inhales the white powdered lines on the field.

Argentina is often quick to forgive and forget its corrupt and criminal leaders. Maradona enjoys this impunity as much as anyone else.

During his farewell match at Boca Junior’s stadium, Maradona was thanked for everything he has done for the country. When he recently recovered from his addiction, he was given the Vice President title at the club. I am sometimes taken back by how much his ass is kissed, but then I remember that I am in the land of fútbol, and El Diego es Dios.

Argentina is constantly searching for the next Maradona, could Messi be him?

Lionel Messi, 18, led Argentina’s under-20 team to the world championships. He is under contract with Barcelona FC through 2010, with a buyout fee of 150 million euros. Earlier this month, he debuted with the adult national team. He lasted less than two minutes as he got ejected for retaliating against a jersey hungry Hungarian.

Finally, in Argentina it doesn’t pay off to dislike Maradona. For this reason I have learnt to love Diego like everyone else. To prove it, I bought this T-shirt:

Che’s and El Diego’s mugs side-by-side. The caption reads: Fútbol Revolución.

Debt-for-Education Swaps: Part III

2005-08-09T16:47:00.000-03:00

Monumental Palacio Sarmiento houses Argentina's Ministry of Education. It is named after the grandfather of the education system, Domingo Faustino Sarmiento, the nation's President from 1868 to 1874.

In my last two posts I summarized some of the research I have done over the past 6 months for my job at the OEI. I briefly explored Latin America’s cash starved education systems and the spiralling debt crisis.

In short, I argued that the region is caught in a development trap because it spends too little on education and far too much on servicing an unpayable, and in some cases illegitimate, debt.

Given this context, a couple of years ago at the UNESCO’s 32^nd annual conference, Argentina’s and Brazil’s Ministers of Education proposed swapping debt for education investment. With support from Venezuela and Uruguay, they called upon rich countries to forgive a portion of the debt provided that the money goes to improving the quality and access to education.

Since then, a regional movement has emerged in support of debt-for-education swaps.

The rationale behind these swaps is two-fold. Firstly, by reducing the debt, developing countries are given breathing room to fund critical education projects. Secondly, by fuelling development in the long run, swaps should contribute to healthier economies that borrow more responsibly, thus preventing debt crises from recurring.

While debt-for-education swaps offer an innovative approach to some of Latin America’s greatest problems, debt swaps are not new nor are they the ultimate solution.

In the mid 1980s debt-for-equity swaps emerged as part of privatization programs that swept the region. In Argentina, Mexico and Chile, in particular, the debt governments owed to private creditors was bought by foreign investors on what’s called the secondary market. The debt was then converted by the government into an equity investment in a recently privatized enterprise in the developing country.

Debt-for-equity swaps, as many privatization programs, have been heavily criticized for various reasons. In some cases, public companies were sold off to foreigners or friends at far below their market price. In other situations, a state monopoly was simply replaced by a private one, providing little improvement in product quality and customer service. When privatization programs lost their popularity, so did debt-for-equity swaps.

During this period, debt-for-nature swaps became popular as well. In these transactions, development organizations (NGOS and IGOs) bought developing country debt on the secondary market. The development organization then negotiated with the developing country government to exchange the debt obligation at a discount for an environmental project approved by the country and implemented by the development organization. Conservation organizations, such as WWF, often used these funds to manage protected national parks, particularly rainforests.

Drawing upon the success of debt-for-nature swaps, other development organizations soon became interested in debt swaps. UNICEF began debt-for-child-survival swaps across the developing world. UNAIDS is now advocating debt-for-AIDS swaps.

After a couple of individual transactions in Indonesia and Pakistan, debt-for-education swaps emerged as a multilateral initiative in the aftermath of several recent economic crises in Latin America. Perhaps no other country was hit harder by recession than Argentina. I think this article, Despair in Once-Proud Argentina, starkly captures the crisis at its peak. While there has been significant macroeconomic progress made since the article was written (for instance, the country recently surpassed its all time high GDP level reached in 1998), job opportunities and wages of the poor and middle class remain dismal.

In the midst of constant protests, strikes and work stoppages, the current administration repeatedly reminds the public that rebuilding what was destroyed over the past three decades will be a slow process. For instance, the government’s commitment to education is seen in its pledge to increase education investment as a percentage of national wealth from its current 4% figure to 6% by 2010. This figure will place the country on par with the most advanced education systems in the world.

Promoting debt-for-education swaps as a regional initiative is a cornerstone of Argentine policy. Currently, Argentina is in the process of negotiating a $78 million debt swap with the Spanish government. This sum would be used to fund approximately 200,000 scholarships for children out of the school system in the country’s poorest regions - the northern provinces and the slums surrounding Buenos Aires. Ecuador recently ratified a $50 million debt swap with Spain which will be put towards education and other social spending.

In the past couple of months I travelled to Brazil to present the research I’ve done on the subject. I was pleased to find out that high ranking government officials, Lula included, UNESCO, people at BOVESPA (the Brazilian stock exchange), and high profile private sector leaders are behind the initiative.

Support from a regional giant like Brazil means that there is a growing recognition that calls to not pay the debt or demands for debt cancellation are not very productive.

What makes debt swaps more appealing than no-strings-attached debt cancellation?

While neither transaction injects new money into a country, the innovative and development-focus of debt-for-education swaps makes them more constructive and marketable. When debt is simply cancelled, there is no guarantee that the funds will be put to a worthwhile and ethical use.

Debt swaps are envisioned as a tool for directly reaching the country’s neediest population. The fund created by the swap is to be managed by an accountable committee composed of debtor and creditor government representatives, as well as civil society members. The funds are not to be injected in the general education budget. Instead, they are to be supervised through an extra-institutional mechanism that is both transparent and measurable.

Yes, the initiative sounds promising on paper. The Argentina-Spain swap will hopefully be finalized in October, barring complications Spain may have with its fellow Paris Club members (the group of the world’s main creditor governments) who generally have to agree upon who is eligible for debt relief. If this process goes well, I hope to one day meet some of the children who benefit from the project.

Debt-for-Education Swaps: Part II

2005-07-23T04:29:00.000-03:00

World's first debt museum?! This past week I finally made the trip to Argentina's Foreign Debt Museum at the University of Buenos Aires' School of Economics.

The blue light box displays the faces of the Ministers of Economy who presided over the debt explosion during the dictatorship (1976-83). The wall is covered in press clippings reporting political developments.

A corner of the museum is dedicated to ex-President Carlos Menem's golden age of indebtedness, privatizations, pegging the peso to the dollar, and his surgically enhanced smile.

Never again. We are convinced that this tragedy cannot be allowed to repeat itself. We have to generate a collective consciousness so that we can be aware of the economic decisions taken by our leaders. Indebtedness has not only resulted in sending great quantities of resources overseas (resources which could have been used for health, education, help for the poorest etc.), but it has also been the main weapon used by concentrated capital to carry out neoliberal reforms which have destroyed the country’s productive structure.

Brochure from the External Debt Museum, Buenos Aires (inaugurated April, 2005).

‘Never again’ (Nunca más) is an internationally used slogan to condemn genocide and crimes against humanity. In Argentina, the term nunca más is synonymous with the forceful response to the 1976-83 military government which systematically killed and disappeared 10,000-to-30,000 ‘subversive’ Argentines.

By invoking nunca más, the creators of the External Debt Museum want to make a powerful, often overlooked link: “The military dictatorship did only dedicate itself to the disappearance, the torture, and the murder of thousands of persons, but it coordinated these crimes with policies which forever modified Argentina’s productive and social structures in the interests of the dominating sectors.”

Indeed, the debt incurred by the military regime is a criminal act on its own. When the dictatorship took power in 1976, the country’s debt stood at $8,3 billion. When the regime fell in 1983, they had indebted the country to a whopping $45,7 billion. Not surprisingly, most documents and records of the debt had been destroyed.

The museum uses World Bank data to show where these loans ended up: 44% of the funds were used to finance capital flight, 33% went to paying interest to foreign banks, and 23% were used to import arms and non-identified goods. It is also estimated that the military nationalized $15 billion private sector debt; that is, bailouts for businesses friendly to the dictatorship.

There is a growing international consensus that debts incurred by illegitimate governments, like Argentina’s military junta, are odious and shouldn’t be recognized.

However, given Argentina’s weak justice system, there is an ongoing 20-plus years judicial process to determine how much of Argentina’s debt is odious, and who exactly should be held responsible. Similarly, more than two decades after the gross human rights violations, many with blood on their hands continue to enjoy immortal impunity.

The central point I am trying to make is this: economic policies are not carried out in a vacuum by Finance Ministers or World Bank economists. It is essential to understand that the major social, economic and political changes initiated in Argentina, Chile, Paraguay, Bolivia, Brazil, and Uruguay around three decades ago grew from the barrel of a gun.

The explosion of Latin American debt is a case in point. The debt crisis is much more than a problem of irresponsible lending and borrowing. Debt initially skyrocketed under the auspices of anti-democratic, corrupt, and criminal practices. Not surprisingly, the crisis has been accompanied by several policies which have failed to create sustainable growth, employment, greater equality or reduce poverty for almost three decades.

In 2004, Latin America’s debt stood at $780 billion, making it the most indebted region in the world. The region is caught in a development trap since it must choose between paying its debt or increasing social spending.

As I mentioned in my previous post, debt servicing exceeds education spending in over half of the region’s countries. This trend must be reversed.

Yet I am not sure if blanket debt forgiveness is part of the solution.

While I view the recent G8 deal to forgive the debt of 18 of the world’s most poorest countries as a promising step forward, there are reasons to be cautious. Oddly enough, Africa’s richest man makes some reasonable arguments on the hazards of simple debt cancellation and increasing aid.

In my next post, I will expand upon the problems with blanket debt-forgiveness, and how debt-for-education swaps offer an alternative.

Debt-for-Education Swaps: Part I

2005-07-07T16:42:00.000-03:00

Tec de Monterrey, Mexico.
When I studied there in 2002, I was stunned by the state-of-the-art facilities and the pristine campus which featured colourful peacocks.

This will be the first of three entries on the subject of debt-for-education swaps in Latin America.

For the past five months I have been working at the Organization of Iberoamerican States, developing a booklet that explains:

a) The importance of investing more in Latin America’s education systems,

b) The burden of the debt, particularly on education spending, and

c) Debt-for-education swaps as an innovative solution to the debt and education crises.

This entry will focus on the first argument: The importance of investing more in Latin America’s education systems.

Latin America faces two enormous obstacles to development: extreme inequality and enormous debt. Indeed, Latin America is the world’s most unequal and most indebted region.

These impediments reinforce one another: as governments dish out more dollars to service their debts, they have less money to spend on social services, such as education and health.

In over half of Latin America’s countries, more money is spent paying back the debt than on education.

The region is caught in a development trap. Debt-for-education swaps attempt to tackle both of these issues at the same time. Before analyzing the debt problem, it is necessary to address the following question:

How important is investing in education to the development of Latin America?

First and foremost, education is a fundamental human right. Article 26 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights states: “Everyone has the right to education. Education shall be free, at least in the elementary and fundamental stages. Elementary education shall be compulsory.”

From an economic development perspective, there is a consensus that investment in efficient, effective and equitable education leads to greater employment, higher wages, higher productivity, and greater economic growth for both individuals and society.

From a social development perspective, education serves a broad range of functions, from saving lives (ie early detection of disease and illness) to empowering vulnerable populations, such as women, the poor, and indigenous populations to overcome discrimination.

From a political development perspective, investment in education means having a stronger foundation for democracy. Anyone who has been frustrated by how a populace can elect an dumb person to power, will usually find a difference among the education levels of those who voted for each of the candidates.

In sum, education is probably the single most important investment governments, societies, families and individuals can make.

For anyone who has been to Latin America, the unequal access to quality education is shocking.

For instance, Tec de Monterrey in Mexico, with its luxurious commodities (all students have laptops and access to wireless internet anywhere on its picture-perfect campus), is light years ahead of the countless shantytown schools that lack books, electricity and are rat infested.

The rich have unbounded privileges to progress, while the poor remain trapped in a vicious cycle of exclusion, illiteracy, hunger, disease, and insecurity.

The region invests at best less than half as much as do developed countries (comparing Chile with Spain) and at worst one thirtieth as much (comparing El Salvador with the US).

As well as raising funding levels, many difficult policies need to be implemented. For instance, the well respected public universities are generally tuition-free. While the intention behind this policy is a noble one, the reality is that these universities are often filled with privileged students who attended superior private and public schools that better prepare them for the competitive entrance exams. Since it doesn’t cost these students anything to study, many have little incentive to complete their degrees on time, and many drag a four year diploma into seven years of wasted time and resources.

Latin American societies are essentially subsidizing richer students to study at the highest level, while many of the poor who never make it that far, remain discriminated against.

The question of discrimination cannot be overlooked.

Nowadays, when a government institutes discriminatory policies against a race, it is openly and justifiably called racism. However, when exclusion is colour blind and not declared as official policy, few people dare utter the word classism (fittingly, my spell checker tells me that the word doesn’t even exist).

I am drawing this parallel because I recently read Nelson Mandela’s autobiography, A Long Walk To Freedom. Given the project I am working on, several paragraphs jumped out at me:

Mandela eloquently states: “Education is the great engine of personal development. It is through education that the daughter of a peasant can become a doctor, that the son of a mineworker can become the head of the mine, that a child of farmworkers can become the president of a great nation. It is what we make out of what we have, not what we are given, that separates one person from another.”

Mandela goes on to describe the apartheid education policies that helped institutionalize racism. Prior to apartheid, the United Party provided curricula for both whites and blacks that were essentially the same and all students were instilled with what were considered ‘liberal’ values at the time. Although Mandela studied under extreme racism, he recognizes that “we were limited by lesser facilities but not by what we could read or think or dream.”

Once the apartheid Nationalists came to power, “the disparities in funding tell a story of racist education. The government spent about six times as much per white student as per African student…The Afrikaner has always been unenthusiastic about education for Africans. To him it was simply a waste, for the African was inherently ignorant and lazy and no amount of education could remedy that.” (Long Walk to Freedom, 166).

In Latin America, the poor (whether they are black, indigenous, mestizos or white) face institutionalized classism. The far inferior level of education they receive is proof of this discrimination. While racism is undeniably a serious problem, it is essential to address all forms of discrimination in an integrated manner. Only through quality, equitable education can this be achieved.

Certainly, improving education is not the cure-all for the region. But it is probably the single most important step today’s leaders can take.

Almost two years ago Latin America’s Ministers of Education declared a regional movement in favour of education. However, if these countries continue to spend more on servicing its debt than on education, such a promise will be hard to keep.

This past year Argentina took an innovative approach to breaking out of this trap. The government announced that it will be conducting a debt-for-education swap with Spain. Money freed up by cancelled debt will be injected into the nation’s poorest neighbourhoods. About $78 million will be converted into 200,000 scholarships for children who have been excluded from the education system.

Argentina vs. Brazil

2005-07-01T04:09:00.000-03:00

Brazilian and Argentine Speakers at a Debt-for-Education Swap Seminar

Last night I returned from a two-day work trip to São Paolo. It was my second visit to Brazil after a meeting in Brasilia about a month ago.

My busy schedule and fatigue due-to-illness left me with no time to sight-see. Nevertheless, I gained some more insight into a culture that fascinates me.

Argentine Spanish vs. Brazilian Portuguese

Unlike the pork-chopped peninsular Portuguese, Brazilian Portuguese, particularly if spoken or sung by the right person, is one of the most beautiful sounds in the world.

I am able to read and understand about 95% of the Portuguese text I come across. Understanding Portuguese when spoken is another story. I comprehend about 50-70% of the Brazilian variety. I barely absorb any of the Peninsular brand.

I put my poor Portuguese skills to the test earlier this week. On Tuesday I was participating in a seminar on Debt-for-Education Swaps held by the Brazilian Ministry of Education at Bovespa (the Brazilian Stock Exchange). Before arriving, I wasn’t sure if simultaneous translation services were going to be provided.

I thought back to my meeting in Brasilia a month ago. Everything was going smoothly. The other participants in the meeting were kind enough to speak either in Spanish or Portuñol - an improvised hybrid of Portuguese and Spanish.

However, the last speaker spoke in a very congested, hasty Portuñol. I managed to capture about half of what he was saying. It was simply too awkward to stop him every time I didn’t understand something.

This time around in São Paolo, I was bit more worried about the language barrier. There would be around 100 people in attendance. I was to present on a panel of five ‘experts’ on the somewhat technical issue of debt-for-education swaps (a subject I will discuss in another post). Thankfully, arrangements had been made to provide personal translation devices to those in attendance.

I then noticed something peculiar.

I have long thought that Spanish is a much easier language to understand than Portuguese. But I also knew that my position on the matter was quite biased. My evidence had been based on the chafing sandpaper sounds I’ve heard (and mocked) in the streets and shops of Toronto’s bustling Acorean and Portuguese neighbourhoods. I have repeatedly pestered my Portuguese friends that their language is simply a drunken Spanish dialect.

However, this time I had some objective proof. Firstly, the Argentines in attendance had a harder time understanding the Brazilians’ Portuguese than the Brazilians’ had understanding their Spanish. Secondly, the other Argentines on the panels simply conducted their presentations in Spanish (even if they knew enough Portuguese to muster up some Portuñol). They knew that practically none of the Brazilians in the audience would require the translation devices.

I later overheard several conversations between Brazilians and Argentines. I realized that even though we were in Brazil, it was the Brazilians who were making the effort to speak Portuñol as their southern neighbours spoke in their native tongue. A part of me thought – ‘Wow, this is quite arrogant (even for Argentines). Why is it that Brazilians are the ones going to greater lengths to communicate when we are the visitors in their country?’

I knew that Spanish was easier to understand for Portuguese speakers than the other way around. Yet it was still strange to experience this type of receptiveness to another nation’s language - especially, when it’s a neighbour that you’ve long considered a rival.

Argentine Fútbol vs. Brazilian Futebol

The beginning of Argentina vs. Brazil in Buenos Aires (on this occassion Argentina played an incredible game and won 3-1).

As I waited for my return flight to Buenos Aires at the São Paolo airport I had the misfortune of witnessing the devastating 4-1 loss of our national side to the Brazilians in the Confederation Cup final.

What made the blow-out that much more unbearable was that only a month earlier I had attended a World Cup qualifying match in which Argentina handed Brazil a 3-1 bruising.

That victory had brought Argentina and Brazil even in their historic head-to-head record (33 victories apiece, and 22 draws). It also injected the country with a strong dose of pride.

Wednesday’s spectacular display put on by Adriano, Ronaldinho, Kaká, and company not only put Brazil ahead in this bitter rivalry, but also embarrassed an Argentine squad that appeared over-confident from their previous victory.

Brazil’s performance revealed that although the head-to-head record is a close one, when it comes to big games, they are in a class of their own. They have been crowned World Cup champs five times. Argentina has only claimed the honour twice.

Perhaps the hardest part to swallow about the defeat, is that the verde-amarelos celebrated the Confederation Cup (a relatively unimportant tournament) as if it were a World Cup final. Having humiliated Argentina may have had something to do with their jubilation.

While I have yet to visit any beaches, carnaval or Rio, I am already convinced that the most beautiful thing about Brazil is the way in which their eleven best footballers can soundly defeat any opponent, with unparalleled creativity, style, and sportsmanship. They do all of this under 180 million microscopes and still manage to maintain enormous smiles on their faces.

2005-06-17T04:44:00.000-03:00

Barrio Piletones - Considered to be one of the slums with the best living conditions in Buenos Aires.

2005-06-17T04:42:00.000-03:00

Piletones children waiting to be picked up from daycare

Live-in Maid

2005-06-17T04:19:00.000-03:00

I just got back from an excellent Argentine movie called Cama adentro; the loose translation is Live-In Maid.

The storyline is very straightforward. An upper-middle class woman and her live-in maid of thirty years are confronted by the harsh reality of Argentina’s recent economic crisis. The divorcee is out of money and cannot pay her maid for six months.

A very structured servant-master bond is shaken. The wealthy woman undergoes profound humiliation because of her loss of status. The working class woman is frustrated as she continues to work without pay. Once the maid leaves to find employment elsewhere, the dependence of her former employer is so great that she cannot do anything for herself. A very routine relationship becomes altered and these women suddenly become very aware of one another’s social positions.

The brilliance of the movie is that class consciousness is presented in a very subtle yet real manner. The acting is superb. Countless scenes are conducted through faint facial expressions and convincing body language. Regardless of one’s ideological inclinations, one is left feeling sympathy for both women. Nor does the movie try to instil a naïve message of hope. It has neither a ‘happy’ nor a ‘sad’ ending.

The movie left me with a personal snapshot of the paradox that exists in a profoundly unequal society like Argentina’s. This contradiction was ignored by most until the crisis peaked in 2001. Now that half the population lives in poverty, and around 10% continue to live like the rich of Manhattan, the juxtaposition is jolting.

About a five minute drive west from my house is Recoleta; an upper class neighbourhood that looks like it belongs in Paris. Twenty minutes to the south is Villa Soldati; a slum that from the outside is indistinguishable from a Brazilian favela or a Venezuelan barrio. The above pictures are from a recent trip to Barrio Piletones in Soldati.

The live-in maid has long epitomized the stark division between the exclusive world of the wealthy and an enormous passive underclass. This divide extends well into the middle class. While the elite have live-in servants, the middle class typically have someone come to their house once, if not several times, a week.

Families that could never afford such a luxury in North America or in Europe, are confronted with a mass of unemployed people who can’t exercise their labour rights.

If affordable, hiring a maid in Latin America is as ingrained as speaking Spanish. I don’t think I know of any upper or middle class families without one. My uncle has had Mari as his, and his mother’s, maid for practically his entire life.

After almost six months, I sometimes forget that I never grew up with this master-servant relationship in Canada. Mari now knows quite a bit about my life, as I often work from home and we occasionally chat. I’m curious to know more about her family, where she lives, what she thinks about her work, and her relationship with her employers (my family). She has a great sense of humour, and we make each other laugh a lot.

But I find that there is something about our relationship that inhibits me from being too friendly. A part of me is afraid of coming across as disingenuous. Perhaps another part of me is ashamed. Here I am in a poorer country enjoying a comfort that I couldn’t have, or want, in Canada. How does one go about reconciling such behaviour?

I am also less independent with Mari around. As I become more reliant upon her, I feel hypocritical for criticizing an upper class that I consider to be too lazy, and too consumed with consuming.

2005-06-06T17:36:00.000-03:00

My new roommate Mia.

Dog-Eat-Dog World

2005-06-06T16:53:00.000-03:00

About a week ago, my uncle decided to adopt his girlfriend’s Rottweiler. I normally wouldn’t think much about such a move, but given that I am living with him in his small apartment, the news startled me. Alright, it scared me.

With this beast breathing down my neck, I turned to my most trusted fountain of information: Google. Sure enough there were countless stories of children’s heads getting chewed off. Many more told the sad tale of mauled owners who, without any warning whatsoever, were betrayed by their ‘best friend’. Many North American municipalities have banned the breed.

To calm my nerves I decided to find more ‘objective’ sources. I found some pages that were incredibly defensive regarding the bad press the breed has received; they blame the violent incidents on irresponsible ownership. This was somewhat comforting considering I knew the owner well. She's had no problems raising the mother and the daughter (the one living with me) for the past few years. No attacks reported.

Most ‘neutral’ websites recognize that despite some positive attributes, the animal also has a predisposition to aggression: “The Rottweiler is calm, trainable, courageous, and devoted to their owner and family. They have a reliable temperament. Protective, he will defend his family fiercely. These are strong fighters that seem immune to pain. Serious, steady and confident. Firm and careful training is essential for this breed, otherwise you may end up with a very powerful and overly aggressive dog.”

These words weren’t exactly comforting. The words ‘immune to pain’ are still etched in my head.

On the second day I told my uncle that I probably wouldn’t be able to overcome my fear. I told him that he should try to return the dog as soon as possible.

However, considering how attached he already was, the fact that she sleeps in his bed everynight, and that she is very calm and loveable, I decided I had no choice but to befriend the pooch.

It’s been eight days since and I’ve become considerably comfortable. At first it was tough to hide my fear. But I soon adapted. Since I work from home, and the Rottie hates being alone, she is always at my side. She follows me into the kitchen, to the bathroom door, and back to my desk. I’ve never witnessed such a level of devotion. The dog is also extremely well behaved. At times her loyalty is overbearing. As is her foul odour. My fear is slowly being overtaken by a sense of irritation.

Given this story, it’s fairly obvious that I’ve never lived with a dog. I always wanted one as a child. But as I grew older I saw them more as a burden than as a companion. The poop-and-scooping, the daily walks, the shedding, the smell, the barking and the poop-and-scooping were problems that I could do without.

It’s fitting that I now live in Buenos Aires - a haven for canines. I am constantly astonished by the amount of dogs in this city, particularly my neighbourhood. I’ve begun to ask myself, given all the burdens, why is this such a dog crazed culture?

The simple answer is that dogs play an important role in what is a very social society. Dogs undoubtedly provide companionship and security for people of all ages. They also serve as yet another leisure option for people who care a lot about their free time. The city’s infinite number of parks are constantly crowded by people making small talk while strolling with their canines.

Another important factor is that porteños are better able to deal with the dog-related burdens because of a culture that makes dog ownership a cakewalk.

Dog walkers, who handle well over ten leashes at a time, are quite affordable for the middle and upper classes. The other day I saw a walker chained to 19 dogs. I asked myself what would happen if these dogs suddenly decided to start running.

Another important factor is that poop-and-scooping is not enforced. The consequence: sidewalks become battlefields littered with fecal landmines. Every time I leave the apartment I have to make a conscious effort to avoid shits of all shapes and sizes. Going for a jog in my neighbourhood becomes a sloppy steeple chase.

Apparently there is a bylaw requiring owners to own up to this mess, but given the lawless nature of this society, it is hardly enforced.

Why the lack of enforcement?

Firstly, most people are apathetic about the problem. Some avoid personal responsibility, by saying they are in no way obligated to touch their dog’s crap, especially when no one else does. Others simply deflect the issue entirely, saying that there are far greater problems in Buenos Aires to even start caring about the state of the sidewalks.

This fatalistic attitude is precisely what needs to be overturned if this society wants to change for the better. I tell people that in my humble opinion it is the small, incremental steps that can eventually have a snow ball effect for initiating social change.

By tackling simple problems like dog shit, littering, scarce seat belt use, wreckless driving, Argentines can begin to develop a sense of personal responsibility and accomplishment.

Once confidence and optimism begin to take hold, Argentine society will be able to begin tackling more serious problems, particularly its ingrained corruption, through a shared sense of social responsibility.

In other words, without scooping shit from sidewalks this society will likely continue to promote pieces of poop to power.

2005-05-28T23:27:00.000-03:00

Congress. Brasilia, Brazil.

2005-05-28T23:23:00.000-03:00

Background: Government Ministry Buildings
Foreground: Avenue which leads to Congress

Brasília

2005-05-28T22:23:00.000-03:00

A 1950’s science fiction movie set brought to life. This was my first impression after a short trip to Brasília, the capital of Brazil.

I was also shocked that this modern urban and architectural wonder was built in an incredibly short period of time. Under the command of socialist Juscelino Kubitschek, Brazilian president from 1956-61, Brasília was built in the middle-of-nowhere in just over three years (1957-1960).

The science fiction movie remark is due to the widespread modernist architecture – that is, a rejection of past architectural traditions, tonnes of concrete, and buildings that belong in a futuristic utopia that was imagined 50 years ago.

It is evident that the urban planner, Lúcio Costa, had a clear priority: efficiency and functionality. The city is built with many freeways and roads that lack traffic lights, intersections and sidewalks. A driver’s heaven. A pedestrian’s hell.

The main avenue is lined with countless rectangular government ministries that lead up to three eccentric buildings that are positioned in a perfect triangle. This equilibrium symbolizes the balance of power between the executive, the legislature, and the judiciary. The city is filled with buildings, statues, monuments, etc. that intentionally serve both functional and symbolic roles for the nation’s capital.

For a student of political science, the city’s emphasis on administration is particularly fascinating. I also imagine that architects and urban planners would consider Brasília as an exceptional case study for analyzing what is right (and wrong) with modernism.

Despite being created with the most honourable of intentions and grand ambitions, the 45 year old city suffers from some serious problems.

Its socialist creators aimed to create class-uniting, self-contained residential communities for a city of 500,000 people. Yet in a short amount of time satellite towns popped up in the suburbs – one of which is already larger than Brasilia – reflecting Brazil’s strong social divide in a sprawling city of over 2 million people.

As mentioned, the city is ideal for car owners. Anyone who has to take public transport, mostly the poor, or simply wishes to walk, has to deal with a lack of sidewalks, extensive distances, and a dangerous absence of traffic lights and crosswalks.

The lack of people on the streets gives Brasília a colder, isolated feel. I found the city difficult to associate with what I imagined to be a livelier, colourful culture. And while there is a lot of grass and trees – an abundant 25 square meters per person - the overwhelming amount of concrete, roads and cars, overshadow this well intended initiative.

Admittedly, I was a bit sceptical when I found out that my first trip to Brazil was taking place in Brasilia, and not in Rio or Sao Paolo. Considering that it was a paid work trip, I was definitely not going to complain but enjoy it to the fullest. Moreover, had I not gone to Brasília for work I would have almost certainly not gone there on my own. The fact that one can visit the city’s main attractions in just a few hours made the trip particularly fulfilling.

I have long wanted to visit Brazil. And even more so considering a long rivalry between Argentina and Brazil recently began to evolve into a warm friendship. Although the soccer hatred is alive and well, ties between the two countries have begun to improve significantly, particularly under left-leaning presidents, Kirchner and Lula.

During visits to Buenos Aires over the years, I have personally witnessed the growing integration. Culturally, samba, caipirinhas and Brahma have made a significant impact on Argentina’s pulsating nightlife. Economically, Argentina imports just about every type of product imaginable from Brazil. And politically, growing cooperation has led to ambitious (although farfetched) calls to lead the creation of a South American Union.

Considering that Brazil almost has five times the population, three times the land mass, and over three times the wealth (in GDP terms) than Argentina, it is logical to expect a one-sided integration and influence. It is not surprising that Argentina has shown some concern regarding Brazil’s growing ambition in international organizations, particularly in its quest for a permanent seat on the security council. Argentina believes the seat should be shared between Brazil, Uruguay, Paraguay and Argentina (members of Mercosur). Yesterday, Argentina’s foreign affairs Minister was quoted as saying that Brazil’s solo conquest for the seat, and betrayal of the regional alliance, is “elitist and hardly-democratic”. This came after a month or so of sour public exchanges between the two neighbours (Juanson picked up the story back on the 11th).

Given this complicated relationship, upon arriving in Brasilia I immediately made an effort to see how Argentina and Argentines are viewed. The response I got was generally negative, but almost always accompanied with some laughter, as if revealing that this rivalry is a relic of the past. Indeed, everyone I met was incredibly friendly and extremely tolerant with my horrible attempts at portuñol. Some also joked about not advertising the fact that I am Argentine, and instead playing the Canadian card.

The most memorable part of the trip was meeting a couple of people, of about my age, who work at the UNESCO office. They not only spoke perfect Spanish and had already initiated inspiring careers, but they also took time out of their busy lives to show me around the city. They demonstrated that you cannot simply judge a place by its architecture or natural scenery, but by the openness and generousity of its people.

2005-05-22T01:37:00.000-03:00

This isn't a real cop - it's my friend Gomez. If he were real, you would know, because he would be asking for a bribe...

Cromagnon (a synonym for corruption).

2005-05-21T23:20:00.000-03:00

The word Cromagnon was meaningless before December 30, 2004. After a fire that left almost 200 youngsters dead in a Buenos Aires club called Republica Cromagnon, the term became a buzzword synonymous with tragedy, death, and corruption.

A night before New Year’s eve celebrations, a concert was held by a group called the Callejeros. Generally, the band holds concerts in outdoor or large enough venues that allow for the use of flares. Cromagnon was considered so unsafe for pyrotechnics that the Callejeros pleaded with their groupies that if a flare was lit, there would be a disaster.

A few moments into the show, someone lit a flare that engulfed the entire ceiling in flames within seconds. The ceiling was covered in a plastic net that produced flames and smoke that instantly converted the club into a gas chamber filled with over 1,500 youths.

If such a tragedy had occurred in North America (indeed, a similar tragedy did take place a couple of years ago in a Rhode Island concert which left almost a 100 dead), the pursuit of ‘justice’ would be fairly straightforward: the club owners, organizers and band members would investigated. Charges and lawsuits would ensue.

However, in a country were corruption is as widely practiced as fútbol, the question of justice is far more complicated.

Indeed, many consider the case of Cromagnon to be a test of Argentina’s ability to leave its corrupt past behind and become what people call a ‘serious country.’

Investigations have revealed that many deaths could have been avoided had four out of the six fire exits not been chained shut to avoid people from sneaking into the concert. Several babies and children were among the dead as a makeshift nursery was created in the women’s washroom. The club was overdue for a fire hazard inspection. Not surprisingly, many flaws in the city’s inspection services have surfaced.

Most Argentines have channelled their outrage into calls for punishment. Many not only want the club’s owner behind bars, but government leaders as well. I am probably in a minority that is more interested in knowing what concrete measures will be taken to prevent another Cromagnon.

At times, I have been shocked by how much the sadness and rage produced by the tragedy has been sensationalized and politicized. Cromagnon consumed so much of the media that a tsunami which killed over 200,000 people was not given the attention it warranted.

In an emotionally charged atmosphere filled with powerful figures joining the masses in calls for a narrow definition of justice, that is, one of revenge and retribution, I wonder if Argentina is ready to resolve its crises and conflicts in a serious manner.

Despite the incredibly slow pace, I believe the government is on the right path.

In what has been a painful process for families and friends, it took the state about five months to bring criminal charges to officials. So far, about 10 police officers and inspectors have been charged, along with the club’s owner and security chief, who face murder charges. The owner is also guilty of bribing officers to turn a blind eye from what became murderous concert venue.

Aside from tracking down those directly responsible for what happened, the city also took a deeper look at the problems with Buenos Aires’ out-of-control nightlife.

Realizing that countless clubs and bigger bars were violating many building codes, fire regulations and were also bribing officials, the government decided to shutdown ALL clubs and bars with dance floors for a minimum of two to three months while inspections and changes were made.

Since reopening, I have noticed that clubs are no where near as crowded as they used to be. Fire exits are easy to spot. It's almost impossible to enter a club past 4AM. And my 15 year cousin constantly complains about how hard it is for her and her friends to go out dancing.

If you know Buenos Aires, then you know that this is significant progress...

2005-05-11T20:43:00.000-03:00

My second home: San Lorenzo's Nuevo Gasometro Stadium

Fútbol fanatics

2005-05-11T20:07:00.000-03:00

It is said that Buenos Aires is home to more sports stadiums than any other city in the world.

To my surprise, I came across an academic study that not only confirms this statement but also presents some impressive figures: "If we only count stadiums within the Federal District of Buenos Aires there are 18, but if we expand the range into the province of Buenos Aires just ten kilometres the number quickly increases to 35. Six of these stadiums (Boca Juniors, River Plate, San Lorenzo, Velez Sarsfield, Racing Club, and Independiente) have capacities of more than 50,000...."

The author of this study also asserts “that one cannot fully understand the culture of Buenos Aires and Argentina without having at least some understanding of what happens in the stadiums.”

I couldn’t agree more with this statement.

As far back as I can remember, I’ve been a fairly devoted fan of North America’s major sports. Unfortunately, the concept of professional soccer in Canada is an oxymoron. Being an Argentine by birth has carried with it the obligation of being a life long soccer aficionado.

As the most widely played and watched sport in the world, soccer reaches a level of fanaticism that is absent in North American sports. One only needs to attend a soccer game to understand that fútbol means much more to Argentina than hockey does to Canada, and much more than Baseball and Football do to the US. Probably only Brazil has a similar, if not greater, obsession.

I come from a relatively non-religious family - unless you consider fútbol to be God. In line with two generations of Filmus males, I was baptised a Club Atlético de San Lorenzo de Almagro fan before conception.

My family, like most fútbol fans, can be considered moderate followers (I’ll address the fundamentalists in a bit). My father has recounted stories of going to the stadium with an umbrella to avoid being urinated on when walking below the stands. Recently, my great uncle’s ashes were buried behind the net on the field belonging to his beloved Argentinos Juniors fútbol club. These and other stories are all too common in the world of fútbol loyalty.

Since arriving in Buenos Aires, I’ve attended almost every San Lorenzo home game in what has been one of their worst seasons in history. Last weekend I witnessed a shocking San Lorenzo victory over River Plate that ended a 15-game winless streak.

While I enjoyed the euphoria that came with beating one of the best, and thus most hated, teams, I will admit that I didn’t mind going to the stadium to watch my team lose. The creativity, passion, and vulgarity expressed in the heckling and hissing was an event in and of itself. During the 15-game winless streak, I watched passionate San Lorenzo fans get progressively angrier and louder, bringing them to the brink of violence.

San Lorenzo’s once popular coach was forced to resign after the 14th winless game. It is said he would have resigned earlier had he not been paying off the barra bravas (hooligans) to support him. During this alleged agreement which lasted a few games, most of the stadium's heckling was directed at the players themselves, the opposing team, the referee, and at times, the team’s president. However, the coach’s decision to finally leave demonstrates that money can buy you very little impunity when you are losing in the crazed world of Argentine fútbol.

In the days leading up to this last game, it was rumoured that if the team extended their streak to a 16th game, violence would be deployed to get the attention of executive board. Out of precaution, I sat with my uncle and grandfather in the upper deck seats – far removed from the box office seats belonging to the team’s directors. Luckily, San Lorenzo pulled off an incredible upset and violence was averted.

When a team is performing poorly or is playing against a hated adversary, the prospect of violence is greatly elevated. The barra bravas (hooligans) are often led by fanatics who are essentially mob bosses that are involved in the many lucrative branches of organized crime. Extortion is often used against one’s own players and coaches in order to extract bribes in exchange for ‘protection’. These hooligans widely consider violence to be an appropriate way to demonstrate support for one’s team. They often see games as battlefields, and target the opposing team’s fans as if there was an irreconcilable personal hatred between them.

This fanatical “us-versus-them” mentality is most blatantly expressed in the Boca Juniors and River Plate rivalry. Probably more than half of the country’s fútbol fans pledge allegiance to either of these teams who have dominated the league for about a century.

From a sociological perspective, these adversaries represent much more than just fútbol hostility inside a stadium. These opponents also symbolize the important divide between the haves and have-nots in Argentine society.

Boca Juniors, located in the working class south of Buenos Aires, has typically been known as the ‘team of the people’. River Plate, located in the wealthy north of the city, has been nicknamed los millonarios, and is generally supported by upper class porteños. Although the class line is not firmly drawn among the fan base, the hatred is.

A Boca-River game, known as a superclásico, places the country at a standstill as the stadium literally trembles. Some label it the greatest rivalry in sports – in an elite category of derbies with Madrid/Barcelona (Spanish soccer), Inter Milan/AC Milan (Italian soccer), Yankees/Red Sox (Baseball), Maple Leafs/Canadiens (Hockey) Michigan/Ohio State (US College Football), etc. Undoubtedly, Argentines will refute these comparisons and label this confrontation as the most important sporting event in the universe (outside of Argentina playing in the World Cup, of course)

Two weekends from now is the date of the next superclásico. If I can manage to land a ticket I will have the opportunity to get severe goose bumps from what will undoubtedly be a passionate and profanity laced event - and hopefully a peaceful one as well.

2005-05-04T03:00:00.000-03:00

Fountain in front of Congress: Sacred landmark for some, improvised swimming pool for others...

Beauty of Buenos Aires

2005-05-03T01:56:00.000-03:00

The metropolis of around 13 million people is commonly nicknamed the “Paris of Latin America”. I guess if one considers the spectacular grand avenues, countless plazas, stunning architecture, fine cuisine, thriving nightlife, and its reputation as the capital of psychoanalysis, Buenos Aires has some commonalities with Paris.

That being said, porteños (as Buenos Aires residents are called) are very hospitable and hot blooded like their Latin American neighbours (even if many refuse to admit it). Family and friendship ties are generally valued more than in North America, where rugged individualism and the “rat race” often strain personal bonds. Indeed, for me personally, the best thing about Buenos Aires is being surrounded by incredible people who I am lucky to call family.

After a year in Costa Rica, and carefully observing Tico friendships, I developed the idea that a very strong commitment to one’s family came at the price of devaluing friendship. My experience in Buenos Aires has proved me wrong. Just about everyone I know has kept many close friends from childhood, whom they consider to be very much a part of their family.

Contrasting what I see as pervasive emotional repression in North America, porteños generally have a strong need to be open about their feelings. I’ve overheard many conversations between close friends that sound much like psychoanalytic sessions. I’ve also found people to be quite open about having a shrink and are comfortable sharing the details of their sessions.

I imagine that this emotional openness has better prepared porteños to deal with the recent economic depression. I often ask myself how is it that despite the crisis, that I see people from all walks of life, smiling more, laughing more, hugging more, and kissing more than I’m used to seeing in Toronto (proudly known as one of the “best places to live in the world”)?

The nightlife in Buenos Aires is another phenomenon that I frequently bask in without fully understanding. BA at night is wilder than any city I’ve ever visited or even heard of second-hand.

A typical Friday or Saturday night for young porteños, usually 16 years old until their mid 30s, involves the following:

10 or 11PM: dinner with friends

1AM: pre-drinking at a bar, house or park

3AM: dancing at a club until daylight (usually between 6AM and 8AM).

Back in Toronto, it’s almost impossible to legally buy a drink past 2AM and most bars and clubs close by 3AM. In Buenos Aires, on any given day of the week, there are bars packed well into the early hours of the morning.

This club and bar scene reflects a wide-ranging porteño passion for leisure and entertainment. I am often shocked by how long the movie lines are for mediocre Hollywood blockbuster movies, by how late enormous bookstores are open, and by the amount of theatres on Corrientes (Buenos Aires’ version of Broadway).

There are too many soccer stadiums in Buenos Aires to count, and virtually every male I know, plays futbol 5 with their friends at least once a week. Interest in basketball and tennis has grown tremendously since the country began to produce some of the world’s best hoops and tennis players.

This evening I will be attending for the first time in my life what is probably considered to be the most pure porteño cultural expression: a tango show. Famous Argentine writer, Jorge Borges once said: We might say that without the evenings and nights of Buenos Aires, a tango cannot be made, and that in heaven there awaits us Argentines the Platonic idea of the tango, its universal form.

Given that I have yet to develop an appreciation for dance in any form that does not involve loud music and alcohol until six in the morning, I am looking forward to the experience.

The roots thing (II)....

2005-04-29T02:18:00.000-03:00

"But, you don't look Latino?" (usually accompanied with a look of confusion and slight intrigue).

I've had this reaction countless times as a white Latino living in the far north.

The predictability of this encounter is understandable given that relatively few Argentines migrate, and rarely do so to Canada. Moreover, most of the migration to the north comes from other Latino countries, whose people are mostly of mixed European and indigenous blood (mestizos).

The need for this clarification brings me back to my first post. I must qualify the idea that I am doing the "roots" thing in Argentina. Buenos Aires is the birthplace of both my parents and where my four grandparents spent most of their lives. But like most Argentines, I have ancestors who came from all walks of life in Europe to a country that has grown accustomed to ignoring its true roots.

In this sense, Argentina is similar to Canada, the USA, and Australia as they are all ex-colonies that received massive amounts of European immigrants during and following a massive genocide of their First Nations people (but, as I will demonstrate in future blogs, this parallel more or less ends there).

From the turn of the 19th century until WWII, massive waves of Europeans migrated to Argentina. Some escaped persecution from the Hitler, Franco and Mussolini. Others, ironically, were Nazis that fled justice when they lost the war.

In my case, my mother's father fled from Franco during the Spanish civil war because of his socialist ideals and my father's parents were Eastern European Jews - a not-so-accommodating place for them in the 1920s.

For the most part, immigrants were searching for greater economic opportunity which many poorer European regions, such as Spain's Galicia and Italy's Sicily, couldn't provide.

The impact of Italian immigration is quite unique to Argentina. I often get the feeling that there are more people of Italian ancestry than that of Spanish. Indeed, pastas, pizzas and ice cream are as important to people's diets as juicy cuts of beef (all of which manage to taste better than in Toronto despite its own large Italian population).

Argentina also has to partially thank the Italians for a gold medal in basketball. The 2004 Olympic gold medal game was played between Argentina and Italy. Here are the two rosters (note the overwhelming amount of vowels on both teams):

Team 1: Basile, Bulleri, Soragna, Galanda, Marconato, Radulovic, Pozzecco, Righetti, Rombaldoni, Chiacig, Garri and Coach: Recalcati.

Team 2: Nocioni, Sconochini, Scola, Wolkowyski, Montecchia, Fernández, Ginóbili, Sánchez, Delfino and Coach: Magnano.

For anyone who follows basketball, the Ginobili and Nocioni names reveal Team 2 to be Argentina's. Otherwise, there are only two Spanish names on Argentina's roster, along with an impossible to pronounce Eastern European name.

Anyways, I started to delve into the race and immigration issue to make the point that compared to the rest of the continent, Argentina is an overwhelmingly white, European country.

I think this reality is essential to understanding the unique sense of cultural superiority found in Argentina.

Most sources I've come across claim that whites make up 97% of the population, while grouping the remaining 3% as mestizos (mixed European and indigenous) and indigenous. However, these numbers distort reality. After having read the Executive Summary of the Human Rights Documentation Center, Racial Discrimination: The Record of Argentina, I would probably put these figures at around 85% white, 12% mestizo, and 3% indigenous.

Regardless of which figures are exact, the document makes a critical point about what is essential to understanding Argentinean society: The official figures may overestimate the white population, but they certainly reflect the normative perception that the country is predominantly white.

This illusion is also reflected by the everday use of racist labels which greatly distort the way races are perceived in other societies. The most common example is when people call mestizos negros (blacks) and refer to anything vulgar or lower-class, in reference to mestizos, as a negrada (no direct translation).

I once half-seriously, half-mockingly asked someone, "If mestizos are called blacks, then what are blacks called?" He looked at me like the question came out of left field, and said: "We dont have those kind of blacks here."

Indeed, the general perception of race in Argentina mystifies me in a way that is probably similar to how I must puzzle people back in Canada when I tell them I am from Argentina.

2005-04-28T00:01:00.000-03:00

Buenos Aires' Obelisco

The roots thing...

2005-04-27T22:34:00.000-03:00

An American friend of mine who's spending time in India with his family inspired me to start a blog. After 20 years of living in Canada it was time for me to do the roots thing as well.

For the past three months I have been in beautiful Buenos Aires spending time with family, working on an interesting project related to education policy and the national debt problem, and enjoying a nightlife that I still can't believe exists. I have also been carefully observing how the country has been slowly dusting itself off from a devastating depression that peaked in 2001.

Since arriving, I constantly search for clues to solve what remains a mystery to me: how can a country that was once considered to be as developed as most Western European countries about 7 decades ago, have gone through a process of under-development that left half of its population in poverty and the other half in constant fear of the poor?

While I am quite familiar with the various economics-centred answers from both ends of the political spectrum, I find them too simplistic and incomplete. In the upcoming months I hope to develop a broader understanding of Argentina's culture, and share with you some deeper insights that I never found in my text books or in news articles.