For ten minutes now, the news station I'm watching has been talking about "Cuidacasas", which roughly translates as 'house-watchers'. At first I thought it would be a story on house-sitters, which sounded weird, but instead, CuidaCasas are just the new manifestation of CuidaCoches, who are guys who hang out on the streets here in certain places and "watch"your parked car.
I remember this from Brazil -- everywhere we went, our hosts had to slip some cash to some teen-age boy who was hanging around. And here it works basically the same, though it's not as prevalent. This phenomenon seems like a good demonstration of how Argentina is precariously slipping into third world status.
I remember thinking in Brazil that these guys were just opportunistic entrepreneurs, offering a legitimate service to people who wanted to park in areas that were not safe. But listening to the news here, they clearly think the practice is extortion. Just a minute ago, they had a graphic on screen that says "If you don't pay, they'll rob you." That pretty much tells the story.
The news segment showed lots of pictures of these CuidaCoche and CuidaCasa people, all teen-age boys or slightly older, and they sure enough look like kids who would rob you given the chance. A lot of the people interviewed expressed a fair amount of empathy for the poor kids, noting how they had no money and no chance for a job or anything. This was nice, there's still a "social consciousness" here. But at the same time, no one likes being shaken down, and some people really, really don't like it.
I'm a little worried for Argentina. I'm afraid that it's going to slip further and further into third-world type insecurity, that a huge gulf is going to open up between the fancy rich people and the teeming masses of poor people. And unfortunately, Argentina has a long tradition of authoritarianism competing with its more liberal traditions. And I'm afraid if the economic recovery continues to not reach the poor, crime will rise to the point where the rich people say "basta" and return to an authoritarian, police-state type of country. Not pretty. But then again, my perspective is certainly being warped by my TV news watching. (Which I'm doing for the spanish practice -- it's just way, way easier to figure out what they're talking about on the news programs than on anything else.)
I think I have seen some CuidaCoches in my neighborhood. There's a dark, slighly sketchy open area area by the train tracks near my house where people park at night to go to the fancy bars and restaurants in the area, and at night there is usually one or two people there kind of directing cars to parking places and clearly taking money. I thought that somehow they were sanctioned, because there are always cops near this area. (Funny, how there are always cops near the fancy shops and bars.) But now I think maybe they're just free-lance
CuidaCoches and the cops just can't be bothered. I'll have to check it out a little more carefully one of these days.
Update: I was out two nights ago with my super-cool Porteno friend Marial, and she drove her car, and both times she parked it she had to pay a cuidacoche. She says you basically have no choice but to pay what they ask -- the only other option is to move the car. Which does sound quite a bit like extortion. We laughed wondering how each guy got his block -- did he have to beat up the previous cuidacoche for that block?
The second time Marial parked, we were a group of five getting out of the car, including a 6ft 5 in tall Finnish dude who could not possibly look less Argentinian. The cuidacoche on that block asked for five pesos, ($1.50 or so), which marial says is outrageous. She figures it was since we looked foreign and rich.
Friday, February 8, 2008
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
An unexpected bargain
I had a happy experience today taking my tennis racquet to get re-strung.
Knowing that tennis balls are about the most expensive thing I've seen here vis-a-vis US pricing -- 7-9 bucks a can v. 2-3 bucks a can in the states -- I bought some strings online before I came here. Really good strings, 12 or 14 bucks, I don't remember.
So all I have to do is find the tennis shop and get the damn thing strung. When I first got here, I was a little scared to do this, just because of the spanish involved. As I guessed, they don't use the plain old word for "strings" (cuerdas) -- rather the "Southern Cone" (argentina and uruguay) have a dedicated word for strings on a racquet, encordado.
Anyway, I'm going to the shop thinking, hmmm, how much are they going to charge me or this. Stupid gringo, has his own strings. I get my wariness guard up. And just bringing in my own strings may annoy them, since shops of course earn a lot on the string mark-up. So I walking along thinking, how much is this going to cost? And more importantly, where do I try the "protest line" -- as in "no way, that's too much." I figured ten bucks for the labor, 30 pesos, would be on the high side of acceptable.
I have to also mention that part of my initial hesitancy on going to the tennis shop not knowing how to say "can you re-string this racquet with these strings?" is that tennis tends to be an upper-class sport here, and some of the upper class people here can be very snooty.
But, as it turns out, they were super-nice. They could tell I was a gringo, so they didn't stress me out too much with too much discussion or questions. He saw I had my own strings and had no problem with that at all. And, get this, labor for stringing the racquet? Ten pesos, or 3.20 or so. Three bucks! Ready tomorrow!
So I leave feeling happy, but a little sheepish for having been wary. Maybe I need me a little chill pill?
Knowing that tennis balls are about the most expensive thing I've seen here vis-a-vis US pricing -- 7-9 bucks a can v. 2-3 bucks a can in the states -- I bought some strings online before I came here. Really good strings, 12 or 14 bucks, I don't remember.
So all I have to do is find the tennis shop and get the damn thing strung. When I first got here, I was a little scared to do this, just because of the spanish involved. As I guessed, they don't use the plain old word for "strings" (cuerdas) -- rather the "Southern Cone" (argentina and uruguay) have a dedicated word for strings on a racquet, encordado.
Anyway, I'm going to the shop thinking, hmmm, how much are they going to charge me or this. Stupid gringo, has his own strings. I get my wariness guard up. And just bringing in my own strings may annoy them, since shops of course earn a lot on the string mark-up. So I walking along thinking, how much is this going to cost? And more importantly, where do I try the "protest line" -- as in "no way, that's too much." I figured ten bucks for the labor, 30 pesos, would be on the high side of acceptable.
I have to also mention that part of my initial hesitancy on going to the tennis shop not knowing how to say "can you re-string this racquet with these strings?" is that tennis tends to be an upper-class sport here, and some of the upper class people here can be very snooty.
But, as it turns out, they were super-nice. They could tell I was a gringo, so they didn't stress me out too much with too much discussion or questions. He saw I had my own strings and had no problem with that at all. And, get this, labor for stringing the racquet? Ten pesos, or 3.20 or so. Three bucks! Ready tomorrow!
So I leave feeling happy, but a little sheepish for having been wary. Maybe I need me a little chill pill?
BA's version of Lizzy Grubman
Anyone in New York back in the summer of 2001 probably remembers Lizzy Grubman. She was the nasty publicist who crashed her big nasty SUV -- possibly intentionally -- into a crowd of people waiting to get into a nightclub in the Hamptons after being told to move. There was all kinds of media attention, because she was a spoiled-brat rich kid who nearly killed some people in a hissy fit about being asked to move. Oh, and of course she was drunk at the time. It was a great class-warfare kind of story for a while, with allegations of lenient treatment by the authorities and what-not, and she ended up serving 60 days in jail.
Well, for two or three weeks here in BA we've had a similar story dominating the local "society" news. This time it's a male named Gaby Alvarez, but just like Lizzy Grubman, he's an upper-class, party-boy in his 30's, not really all that well-known by the general public, but apparently well-known to the fancy people. Again it happened near the upper-class beach retreat, this one Punta del Este in Uruguay. But in this case is was an open-road accident in which two people died. And the guy was coked-up and drunk, and this (I think, given my spanish limitations) was clearly determined by the authorities. And, maybe because it took place in Uruguay and not in Argentina, the rich kid is still in jail.
Word on the TV news right now -- right now -- is that Gaby is depressed, and afraid for his life in an Uruguay prison. The news is switching between exterior shots of the prision, pictures of the wreckage on the highway, and pictures of rich fancy people, presumably his friends and family. There's also a little bit of a Paris Hilton media circus to it -- I don't think Lizzy Grubman got this much publicity.
Somehow Rich Kids getting into trouble makes great news everywhere. Strange world.
Well, for two or three weeks here in BA we've had a similar story dominating the local "society" news. This time it's a male named Gaby Alvarez, but just like Lizzy Grubman, he's an upper-class, party-boy in his 30's, not really all that well-known by the general public, but apparently well-known to the fancy people. Again it happened near the upper-class beach retreat, this one Punta del Este in Uruguay. But in this case is was an open-road accident in which two people died. And the guy was coked-up and drunk, and this (I think, given my spanish limitations) was clearly determined by the authorities. And, maybe because it took place in Uruguay and not in Argentina, the rich kid is still in jail.
Word on the TV news right now -- right now -- is that Gaby is depressed, and afraid for his life in an Uruguay prison. The news is switching between exterior shots of the prision, pictures of the wreckage on the highway, and pictures of rich fancy people, presumably his friends and family. There's also a little bit of a Paris Hilton media circus to it -- I don't think Lizzy Grubman got this much publicity.
Somehow Rich Kids getting into trouble makes great news everywhere. Strange world.
Monday, February 4, 2008
BA Road Culture Part 2 -- Rampaging Buses
I can't believe I left this out when discussing Macho Road Culture last night.
To me, by far the most startling thing about road culture here in Buenos Aires is how aggressively the buses (colectivos) drive.
I was think about this yesterday as I was riding the bike all afternoon. What is it that makes these buses seem more threatening than buses in NYC? And I think the answer is this -- hard acceleration. Bus drivers here really stomp on the gas, they take off from every one of their frequent stops as fast as they can. I don't remember my basic physics all that well, but I'm pretty sure that you're using a great deal more force to accelerate than to just maintain a particular speed. And when you're accelerating a 10-ton bus, that takes a whole lot of force.
I think in NYC the buses are driven quite a bit more gently. Granted, the buses here are no doubt faster than the buses in Manhattan. Everything is a trade-off I suppose -- in this case efficient transportation v. threatening huge hulks of steel hurtling around all over the place. Of course you could say that about automobile transportation as well as bus transportation. But the thing of note here is that the threat level from these buses -- on just a basic, physical awareness level -- is frequently a lot higher than we foreigners are used to back home.
No surprise, I guess. Just part of the 'roughness' of the place that's part of it's appeal for us.
To me, by far the most startling thing about road culture here in Buenos Aires is how aggressively the buses (colectivos) drive.
I was think about this yesterday as I was riding the bike all afternoon. What is it that makes these buses seem more threatening than buses in NYC? And I think the answer is this -- hard acceleration. Bus drivers here really stomp on the gas, they take off from every one of their frequent stops as fast as they can. I don't remember my basic physics all that well, but I'm pretty sure that you're using a great deal more force to accelerate than to just maintain a particular speed. And when you're accelerating a 10-ton bus, that takes a whole lot of force.
I think in NYC the buses are driven quite a bit more gently. Granted, the buses here are no doubt faster than the buses in Manhattan. Everything is a trade-off I suppose -- in this case efficient transportation v. threatening huge hulks of steel hurtling around all over the place. Of course you could say that about automobile transportation as well as bus transportation. But the thing of note here is that the threat level from these buses -- on just a basic, physical awareness level -- is frequently a lot higher than we foreigners are used to back home.
No surprise, I guess. Just part of the 'roughness' of the place that's part of it's appeal for us.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Macho Road Culture -- or just Inept Road Culture?
For three years in a row here in Buenos Aires I have bought a bike and ridden it around quite a bit. This is what I do, I'm a cyclist, this is what I love to do. It's the best way to get to know a new place -- you're going slow enough to really take things in, and fast enough to cover some serious territory. It's great.
Except when dealing with Macho Road Culture.
In general, BsAs is not the most macho place, by Latin American standards. A lot of people here are very educated and cultured and busy -- they don't have much time for machismo. Of course, among the less-educated, less-cultured, and less-busy there appears to be quite a bit more machismo, but, honestly, I don't deal with them that much.
But it appears that even among the snooty upper class, and even among the women, when they get behind the wheel of a car or on top of a motorcycle, machismo rules. Brakes are for wimps, except when absolutely required. Leaving a comfortable distance between your car and the car in front -- that just shows weakness. No room for weakness when you've got a wheezing, whining 60-horsepower vehicle to command.
Two examples, of this aversion to braking in particular. When turning a corner here, cars and buses tend to cut unbelievably close to the curb, which turns the corner into more of a curve and less of a right angle, thereby reducing or eliminating the need to brake. They do this regardless of how many people are standing on the corner waiting to cross the street. When you first get here, you are likely to be terrified by a car missing you by inches as your looking the other way.
Another terrifying practice, which probably leads to more accidents (though maybe fewer fatalities) is cruising into an unmarked (or marked against you) intersection without applying the brakes. This is very common, and I've seen many near-accidents. BsAs has a lot of unmarked intersections among its side streets. And this isn't necessarily the worst thing -- some rebel traffic engineers in europe think this is actually safer, because it forces everyone to slow down and check out the intersection before proceeding.
Good in theory -- or maybe in Denmark and Holland -- but these traffic engineers probably haven't seen the intersections here. Typical practice here is to pull about 10 feet into the intersection -- about the width of the parked-car lane, and then slam on the brakes if there is a car entering the intersection before you. Or else hope that the other car slams on its brakes. My spanish teacher lived on one such corner, a busy one, and she would hear an accident every week or two she says.
Another variation of this, one that dogs me as a cyclist, is people on little side streets pulling out into the bigger street, again about the width of the parked car lane, and only then applying the brakes if anyone is coming. This happened to me two or three times just today. Typically what happens to me is that I don't want to swerve into traffic to go around the car, so I have to brake and go behind the car, taking a small detour into the side street.
The last example of ridiculous driving here that I'll mention is one of the first experiences that virtually every tourist has here in Buenos Aires: insane tail-gating by taxi drivers. Almost everyone who flies here takes a taxi to the airport. They're relatively cheap, and you just spent the night in a plane after all. You get in your taxi, and for thirty minutes, your driver keeps your little tin-can of a taxi, with broken rear seat belts, about a foot away from a series of cars in front of him, all the while doing about a hundred kilometers an hour. No lie. Okay, maybe the one foot distance is an exaggeration. But way, way too close. In the US we learn the "two second rule" -- you should have two seconds between you and the car in front. Look at a spot on the road that the car in front of you passes -- you should be able to count 1-mississippi, 2-mississippi before your car reaches that spot. Here, it's more like "1" -- without the mississippi. Not Safe. Not At All.
And I've been watching the TV news a lot, and good god do they have a lot of auto accidents here. What a surprise, huh? I should look for some statistics, but that would sort of spoil the "top-of-my-head" approach to this blog. So for now, let's just say they have a Lot. With lots of people Dead.
So, anyway, at first I just thought this is all about Macho Culture. Breaking is for pussies, being a cautious driver is the same as being an afraid driver, which means you're definitely a pussy, a weakling. And I do think that's a component. But part of me just thinks that it's more just sheeer ineptness than any kind of machismo. Good god, somebody teach these people how to drive!
Meanwhile, I'm not sure how much biking I'll be doing. It was a rough day out there today.
Except when dealing with Macho Road Culture.
In general, BsAs is not the most macho place, by Latin American standards. A lot of people here are very educated and cultured and busy -- they don't have much time for machismo. Of course, among the less-educated, less-cultured, and less-busy there appears to be quite a bit more machismo, but, honestly, I don't deal with them that much.
But it appears that even among the snooty upper class, and even among the women, when they get behind the wheel of a car or on top of a motorcycle, machismo rules. Brakes are for wimps, except when absolutely required. Leaving a comfortable distance between your car and the car in front -- that just shows weakness. No room for weakness when you've got a wheezing, whining 60-horsepower vehicle to command.
Two examples, of this aversion to braking in particular. When turning a corner here, cars and buses tend to cut unbelievably close to the curb, which turns the corner into more of a curve and less of a right angle, thereby reducing or eliminating the need to brake. They do this regardless of how many people are standing on the corner waiting to cross the street. When you first get here, you are likely to be terrified by a car missing you by inches as your looking the other way.
Another terrifying practice, which probably leads to more accidents (though maybe fewer fatalities) is cruising into an unmarked (or marked against you) intersection without applying the brakes. This is very common, and I've seen many near-accidents. BsAs has a lot of unmarked intersections among its side streets. And this isn't necessarily the worst thing -- some rebel traffic engineers in europe think this is actually safer, because it forces everyone to slow down and check out the intersection before proceeding.
Good in theory -- or maybe in Denmark and Holland -- but these traffic engineers probably haven't seen the intersections here. Typical practice here is to pull about 10 feet into the intersection -- about the width of the parked-car lane, and then slam on the brakes if there is a car entering the intersection before you. Or else hope that the other car slams on its brakes. My spanish teacher lived on one such corner, a busy one, and she would hear an accident every week or two she says.
Another variation of this, one that dogs me as a cyclist, is people on little side streets pulling out into the bigger street, again about the width of the parked car lane, and only then applying the brakes if anyone is coming. This happened to me two or three times just today. Typically what happens to me is that I don't want to swerve into traffic to go around the car, so I have to brake and go behind the car, taking a small detour into the side street.
The last example of ridiculous driving here that I'll mention is one of the first experiences that virtually every tourist has here in Buenos Aires: insane tail-gating by taxi drivers. Almost everyone who flies here takes a taxi to the airport. They're relatively cheap, and you just spent the night in a plane after all. You get in your taxi, and for thirty minutes, your driver keeps your little tin-can of a taxi, with broken rear seat belts, about a foot away from a series of cars in front of him, all the while doing about a hundred kilometers an hour. No lie. Okay, maybe the one foot distance is an exaggeration. But way, way too close. In the US we learn the "two second rule" -- you should have two seconds between you and the car in front. Look at a spot on the road that the car in front of you passes -- you should be able to count 1-mississippi, 2-mississippi before your car reaches that spot. Here, it's more like "1" -- without the mississippi. Not Safe. Not At All.
And I've been watching the TV news a lot, and good god do they have a lot of auto accidents here. What a surprise, huh? I should look for some statistics, but that would sort of spoil the "top-of-my-head" approach to this blog. So for now, let's just say they have a Lot. With lots of people Dead.
So, anyway, at first I just thought this is all about Macho Culture. Breaking is for pussies, being a cautious driver is the same as being an afraid driver, which means you're definitely a pussy, a weakling. And I do think that's a component. But part of me just thinks that it's more just sheeer ineptness than any kind of machismo. Good god, somebody teach these people how to drive!
Meanwhile, I'm not sure how much biking I'll be doing. It was a rough day out there today.
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