Late October 2005: Argentine Quirks, Part I

As I write this on a balmy Thursday evening after a day of again being confused by Spanish verbs and otherwise lamenting my lack of linguistic skills, I am imagining that at least some of you are what they call aburrido/a in my newly adopted language -- bored. The fun for me of writing these notes is both to share some of my experience and observations from living here, as well as to entertain myself a bit by looking back over recent days and weeks and seeing what has stuck in my mind. Here’s my current list of items:

□ Noteworthy Behavior: I am coming to the conclusion that one of the driving factors of the way Argentines behave is the fact that they have survived so many crises and flaps and erratic governments and public-service meltdowns. The average person is far more polite and less pushy in any given circumstance than a New Yorker. Con permiso is the operative phrase for everything from shoving your way into an already crowded subway or train car to edging around a group of people standing in the middle of the sidewalk chatting. People are known to run to catch a bus or train, but not too often. The next one will probably be along before too long. Today as I went to catch the train into Retiro (the main train station for trains from the northern suburbs) to go to class, it turned out that both of the automated ticket machines on the “downtown” side of the Martinez station were out of order, and there was therefore a long line waiting to buy single or round-trip tickets at the one staffed ticket window. But there’s no pushing and shoving, no anxiety attacks when the train comes into the station and you know you’re not going to be on it. A few people did manage to grumble a bit when they saw a couple of recently-arrived machine techies open one of the automatic machines and stand scratching their heads, but that was it. Almost all of the station platforms have both a news-stand and a kiosko where you can get candy, food, drinks, or coffee, and there are also usually places to sit or lean while awaiting the next train. And the ubiquitous cellphones are going much of the time, as well as lots of conversation. But overall, people are polite, they know how to wait on line by bringing something to read, and they may rush, but not through you. The only slightly irritating habit I’ve noticed is that people really do stop in the middle of the sidewalk for no apparent reason while , and they do walk two- and three-abreast, forcing others to move around them. They also sit on steps when others are trying to enter buildings, and yet I’ve not seen anyone say (as I’m tempted to) anything by way of a suggestion that someone is in the way. Finally, in this particular chapter of observation, I would mention that for those of you who are used to riding the same subways or trains every day, you wouldn’t be surprised to see the same panhandlers, the same shuffling harmonica players, the same candy or battery vendors, the same musicians playing the same tunes, or the same physically challenged people coming through your car each day saying/offering/singing/playing the same thing. The only guy I regularly contribute is the guy with no legs who slides along on a wheeled pallet – partly ‘cause he doesn’t say much and he’s very adept at zipping between people without banging into them. Or something.

□ Cars: As anyone who’s traveled a bit outside the US will understand, most of the cars here are what would be called economy-sized, with a few mid-sized thrown in. The very largest cars one normally sees are Honda Accords, the occasional C-class Mercedes, and the smaller versions of SUVs. In addition, there is the occasional Citroen C5, Renault Megane II, Peugeot 407, VW Passat, or BMW 3-series. There’s a noticeable lack of really big cars – the larger Mercedes, any large American models, and virtually no "monster" SUVs. Thus, when you think of “normal” cars here, what you’re seeing are the Toyota Corolla, Honda Civic, Chevrolet Astra, VW Golf, Ford Ka, Fiat Uno or Palio, Citroen C3, Peugeot 206, Renault Clio, and the like. Most of these cars have what US drivers would think of as small engines – from 1 to 1.6 liters. This seemed a bit astounding to me at first, until I realized that modern auto technology has become so sophisticated that a 1.3-liter car can easily have 100+ horsepower, and given that 95% of all cars have standard shift, that’s plenty to keep them going at unsafe speeds. In addition, Argentina is one of the leaders in using compressed natural gas (CNG), and there are hundreds of shops where you can convert your gasoline-powered car to CNG and save a lot on your fuel bills. Probably more than half of the service stations offer CNG, usually off to the side of the main gas pumps, and other than having to get out of your car when they fill up the tank, it’s like any regular refill event. When you convert, you can select the size of pressure tank you want (the larger you want, the more trunk space it will use), and you’ll expect to get from 100 to 200 miles on a recharge – which does mean a few extra visits to the station. The technology is now very sophisticated and very few problems occur with conversions; most people are attracted to a used car that is CNG-powered. But all cars have to be converted; none is manufactured to run on CNG. Several major models are manufactured here now, including Toyota, Ford (which recently built its 2-millionth car in Argentina), VW, and the three French brands, among others. All these cars are built to run on either nafta (gasoline) or diesel. The prices are very similar to those in the US, although the lower-end models, such as the Ford Ka with a 1-liter engine, cost less. The most expensive “normal” car one would buy here would be something like a high-end VW or mid-level Citroen, and even then the engine would be “only” a 1.8- or 2-liter size. But that size coupled with multiple valves (4 per cylinder) and sophisticated valve timing and computer control makes them very peppy indeed. These more expensive cars would cost up to perhaps USD 25,000 or more (75,000 pesos) and would be viewed as luxury cars. A well-equipped Mercedes C-class costs $60,000 US; an average BMW 3-series costs $45,000; a VW Passat with a huge (3-liter) engine costs $70,000, and the cheapest Porsche costs $85,000. Nearly all cars here now have air-conditioning as standard equipment, given the three blistering-hot months of the year from mid-December to mid-March. Used cars you’d feel safe any, that come with a/c, any sort of warranty and fewer than 100,000 kilometers (62,500 miles) seem to start at about USD 10,000. A VW “Gol,” the cheapest version and the biggest-selling car here, may be in my future, but not until I’ve achieved pensionado visa status and have my national ID card and Argentine driver’s license. (n.b. for VW freaks: the Gol is similar but not equal to the Golf, which is much more expensive.)

□ A Shopping/Money Quirk: This is really bottom-feeding, but one interesting little part of shopping for nearly anything here is that exact change or nearly-exact change is greatly valued. Even in high-money-turnover places like supermarkets and drugstores, if you owe, say, 13.60, the clerk will ask if you have the 60 centavos. They would rather take your 60 centavos and give you a whole peso back than give you 40 of their centavos. I have inquired about this and have only learned that in the “bad days” of de-dollarization and devaluation, change in both coins and bills was scarce, and thus these requests may just be part of the hangover from that period. But it took the cake for me when I had run up a ticket of 29.80 at my closest market. I presented a 20- and a 10-peso bill, expecting 20 centavos change, but the clerk looked at me and said, “Do you have 80 centavos?” This was in lieu of accepting my 30 pesos and giving me the 20 centavos (about 7 cents) back. I will continue to investigate this phenomenon and report again later. J

□ What it feels like: Perhaps because I’ve been lucky enough to have spent a lot of time in Paris, I’m pretty convinced that the “feel” of BsAs is more like it than any other city I know. I’m sure there are other cities that would come to mind for others, but Paris seems to be the overall first choice, at least of those I’ve talked to and read about. This is a huge city, and while there are parts that look like any big city with high-rise apartment buildings lining the streets, the general sense I have is that there is enough European/French style architecture nearly everywhere to make the impression, as well as multitudes of small cafes, bars, kiosks, neighborhood restaurants, newsstands, “tete de station” cab stands and European-style city buses (and cars). In addition there are zillions of trees of all sorts, churches and other institutional buildings in nearly every block, and small and large parks and walkways and vistas to bring to mind that city. Not to mention the way most people tend to dress and the stuff they carry. It’s probably too much of a generalization to say that Porteños are a pretty attractive lot, but I feel that way, and I enjoy seeing both older as well as younger men and women who obviously have taken a bit of care about how they appear when they’re out in public. And, as in Paris, one of the notable realities is that the closer you are to one of the major hotels – the Alvear Palace, the Sofitel, the Sheraton – the more English you hear spoken, and this carries over to the restaurants and shops in those neighborhoods. All that is meant by this is that English-only people can easily visit here and never be outside of earshot of someone who understand them and will be happy to cater to their needs.