So, as most of you know, my program down here in the Southern Cone is through the study abroad program SIT. There are two things that distinguish SIT programs from most others: one is the independent research project rapidly approaching (urrgglglhh) and the other is the type and quantity of personal on-the-ground visits to places/with groups that we would really never be able to access by ourselves. Since our first visit to the headquarters of Las Madres, in Buenos Aires we have also visited a fábrica recuperada, the Casa de niños y adolecentes, and Villa 31 (we also had a ton more visits in Brazil and Paraguay, but more on that later).
La fábrica recuperada
A bit of history (try to suppress your excitement): Argentina experienced some serious changes in its economy during the '90s, which resulted in a lot of de-industrialization and the closing of factories. This was only accelerated by the 2001-2002 financial/economic meltdown, so unemployment and poverty levels in Argentina skyrocketed. There was a huge grass-roots response throughout the country, and one aspect of this was the phenomenon of the recuperated factories.
What happens is this: you're an Argentina factory worker in a metallurgical plant (you really didn't know what you were getting into with this blog, did you?). The factory where you worked for 16 years is now closed and patrón (boss) had not paid your wages for the 5 months prior to the closing. There is no other work available, except the informal sector, like selling empanadas on the street, which – considering that your entire neighborhood is out of work and so is doing the same thing – is not profitable. The factory is just sitting there empty and unused. So you're thinking: yo patrón (apparently Argentine factory workers are also from the street), this is my life and my work, and I think I'm just going to re-open this place. And that's exactly what thousands of factory workers did all over the country: they took over the factories and started working again, running the factories as cooperatives. Of course a lot of them are facing legal difficulties with this little thing called private property, but many of them are also gaining legal claims to the factories based on the grounds of unpaid wages, prior mismanagement, status as unusable factories, etc.
So we visited the factory of Cooperativa LB, toured the grounds and equipment (they make metal tubing of all shapes and sizes), and got to hang out with the workers and ask them questions. What struck me most was that, although many are quick to cite this phenomenon as an alternative/threat to capitalism, the workers don’t view this as an ideological movement. They really just needed work to feed their families and couldn't think of any other options. They all get paid equal wages and all have to learn to lots of different jobs around the factory, as they are not enough of them to operate all stations everyday.
Note: sadly I don't have pictures of this visit because my camera died.
(Erm, so about this whole being brief thing…yeah. Not gonna happen).
La casa de niños y adolecentes
As part of its social programs, the city of Buenos Aires runs several programs for kids and teenagers in poor neighborhoods of the city. We visited one such house, which offers enrichment programs for school-age kids. The kids are divided by age (5-9 in the younger group, 10-14ish in the older). They do creative projects with art and music together, receive extra support and discussions in areas such as sexual health and gender relations, and generally use the house as a place of support. Many of the kids have bad situations at home and so this offers them a place to be before or after school, as well.
We ate breakfast with the kids and it was hilarious and heartbreaking. They were so full of energy and questions but had such a limited view of the possibilities of the world (tangent: another treat the program offers these kids is excursions out into the better parts of Buenos Aires to get ice cream or go to a movie or something, because some of them literally never leave their barrio).
After that, the visit was fine but wasn't as fulfilling as it could have been. We came on a Friday and that is their homework day apparently. So instead of getting to play with an art project or something, we just helped them with math or English homework. Not even the presence of strange extranjeros could alleviate the boredom there. But if I have any spare time in my time left in Buenos Aires or in my travels, I would love to go back and spend the day hanging out with the kids again.
Meet Mau.
La Villa 31
Who's ready for more discussions of urban poverty woot woot? That's what I thought. Here you go, just for all y'all.
Another reality in Buenos Aires (and throughout Latin America) is the presence of villas de miseria (basically ghettos) along the outskirts. Begun as informal settlements to house all the immigrants to the city, the villas have turned into permanent characteristics of the city. The residents usually don't have formal claim or title to the land, the neighborhoods are often in precarious areas or in danger of being cleared out by the municipal governments, etc. The villas are numbered in Buenos Aires and we visited Villa 31, which as the distinction of being in the heart of the city, only a few blocks from Puerto Madero, rather than in the outskirts.
We spent most of the afternoon in a comedor, kind of like a neighborhood-run soup kitchen, interviewing the women who run it. Then we walked around a bit to chat with some of the residents and see the villa. Unfortunately, it was a fairly miserable day weather-wise so we headed home early.
Some impressions: what struck me most was not the poverty, but the resourcefulness and identity of the people living in the villas. Yes, they were poor, obviously – but I was prepared for this because of all we had heard about the villas. What I had never understood, though, was why the people would fight to stay in the villas if the government wanted to clear them out, or why more of them didn’t try to move away. What I observed was that the villa is a true community, built on solidarity. The comedor is a resource organized by the community and utilized by pretty much all the families, so that these families can spend their small incomes on something other than food (this feature is something that attracts new immigrant families to the villas rather than other parts of the city). These aren't just shanty towns: many immigrants (immigrants = mostly Bolivians, Paraguayans, and Peruvians) work in the construction business and so the houses are solidly built and – more than that – they are homes.
I don't have any pictures of the villa, either, because I was already uncomfortable enough with the whole 'oh-hey-we're-coming-to-check-out-you're-situation-for-an-hour-or-two-and-then-leave-on-a-nice-bus-to-go-back-to-our-middle-class-lives' thing and I didn't want to treat their real lives like a tourist attraction.
On a lighter note, here are some of the fun things I've also gotten into in BA:
Ciudanza: A cool (free!) dance show in the park in Puerto Madera. It was very experimental, with the choreographers and dancers incorporating the architecture and landscape of the city into the movements and stories of the pieces. A few misses, mostly hits.
El Teatro de los Ciegos: Theater does exist outside of London! One of the most interesting productions I've seen, of a play called La isla desierta. It was completely, 100%, as in your-eyes-never-adjust black (hence the name Theater of the Blind). But it was one of the most complete theatrical experiences, because they involved all of your other senses (smell, sound, touch [yup, they got us wet at one point]) and utilized the space to surround totally surround those senses. I loved it.
La bomba del tiempo: Amaaaaaazing drum show. The whole crowd was just dancing to the epic rhythms.
Milonga at La Viruta: I finally, finally, finally made it to tango! La Viruta is a fantastic tango bar and restaurant that offers classes and then a milonga (epic tango free-for-all). I took a class and danced some, then watched as people who actually know what they are doing took to the floor and blew me away. There was a completely precious older couple, dressed very elegantly, that danced the whole night away, holding each other close. I tried a few times to get a creeper shot of them, but couldn't do it justice.
Bafici: The independent film festival in Buenos Aires. Out of hundreds of film viewings, I made it to two.
So that's a slice of Buenos Aires life over the past month or so. Next entry: steak, waterfalls, and failing government (aka Brazil and Paraguay).
