Mas Momentitos en la Vida Argentina
An array of "momentitos"--that's what I'll probably remember when I look back on this period of my life in Argentina. That is to say, my understanding of this country, this people, life in general, and the way that God is working in the world has largely been revealed through those little moments when I wake from the routine of daily activities and interactions to realize something refreshingly, startlingly new. I like learning new things; I always have, but sometimes I just get so wrapped up in the process of it all that I fail to reflect on the very fact that I am learning, and in doing so, I almost certainly fail to learn as much as I could and should. But I'll take the momentitos even if they're sometimes too few and far between; I'll examine them from every angle and then try to commit them to memory, evidence of life experienced in Argentina moment by moment. I'll begin with a few cultural momentitos--a mix of the frustrating and humorous.
Momentito Uno
On a national level, Argentina is never far from a crisis of some sort: economic or political. What I have failed to consider until recently is the state of crisis that also exists on a personal level for many Argentines. A conversation with Gugey last week provided new insight: He shared from personal experience that while working at a factory in Rosario, he witnessed many situations in which employees allowed themselves to be overworked and manipulated. They feared, of course, that if they didn't comply with the demands of the employer, that they would lose their jobs. In a country where labor laws are often unenforced, some employees regularly work 100 hours per week without relief. They are unable, or unwilling, to negotiate a change for fear of losing what little they have. In this state of constant stress and fatigue, life is lived moment by moment. Is there food for the next meal? Good. Do the kids have clothes for school tomorrow? Good. There is little planning for tomorrow, let alone any preparation for life five or ten years down the road; after all, today has enough worries of its own.
Ask kids what they want to be when they grow up and many will have absolutely no idea. Seriously! It's difficult for me to understand because when I was a kid, grown-ups were always asking me what I wanted to do "when I grew up." And I had plenty of ideas too. But last week, as a result of talking with Guadalupe, I realized that many young people here have never given future career possibilities a serious thought. Why not? Their families are living day by day. While this lifestyle may be positive in the the sense that it encourages focusing on the here and now instead of living merely for the past or future, it is, in another sense, quite debilitating and prevents an individual from moving forward. In my experience, accomplishments are often realized through the process of goal setting; through the process of envisioning that which will one be or that which could be as opposed to that which merely is. Is this a limited, North American perspective? Perhaps, but I have to wonder if this lack of goal setting, this lack of vision (and sometimes hope) for the future, this constant instability and fear of change on a personal level is also responsible for the crisis-stricken government as well. I mean this merely as an observation and not as an egocentric criticism of Argentina in comparison to the United States.
Momentito Dos
I finally realized why I'm often given a little piece of candy after paying for something at a store: There is a shortage of coins in Argentina right now, and the storekeepers sometimes make up for the fact that they don't have the appropriate change to give a costumer by giving them a piece of candy instead. Wait a second. Here I thought they were just being nice--like when you go to a bank and they give the kids lollipops and the dogs treats. But no; the other day, the guy at the Internet cafe took back my piece of candy when he found the ten centavos that he had been missing. Shoot. This change shortage really is an interesting concept--OK, so sometimes it's just annoying. For example, you need change or a prepaid card in order to purchase a bus ticket: we're not talking about a lot of change, one peso and thirty centavos. One evening I found myself out of change, so I went to a small kiosk and bought a soda in order to get some change--or at least this was my intention, but the storekeeper didn't have change and gave me bills instead. So I made the mistake of thinking that some kind-hearted person would give me change for my bills. Wrong. When I made this request at the kiosk down the street, the worker just laughed at me. I had to resort to taking a remise home--a sort of taxi--because I didn't have the change. Que ridiculo. Now if I was the president of Argentina, I would take a lot of two peso bills out of circulation and replace them with coins...but I'm not la presidenta de Argentina and I'll admit that maybe there is more to this than meets the eye. Maybe. The point is that my concept of justice and of common sense objects to this situation: I don't want to be short-changed (and I didn't ask for a piece of candy) and I don't want to pay eight pesos for a remise when I should be able to take a bus for one-thirty. What I need to learn from the Argentines through these experiences is to make the best of situations that I can't personally change--to be thankful for the piece of candy and ...well, to buy a prepaid bus card, I guess. Make do when there's no other option. It's probably not worth stressing about.
Momentito tres
After a birthday dinner a few days ago, discussion among the individuals gathered, turned to the topic of the rising rates of dengue in the nearby province of Chaco. I was surprised to hear the person sitting beside me blame the situation on the government. After all, what on earth can a physical condition, a disease, have to do with the government? I verbalized this very question and here is the general reasoning that I received: The government is responsible for the widespread corruption within Argentina which includes the deforestation and misdirection of public funds which is responsible in some way for an increase in mosquito breeding grounds and lack of fumigation/spraying in public areas. In fact the government should really be handing out insect repellent in every barrio...OK, so I'm exaggerating, this wasn't mentioned. This individual is right: there is probably widespread corruption within the provincial and national governments, and there is quite certainly a rising infection rate of dengue, which is disturbing. Now I still don't see the direct connection between these two facts, but it's apparently obvious to many Argentines. Right? Wrong? Let's just say that we have a definite difference in perspective due to our views of and experiences with government. Anyway, I think that a mosquito just bit me and I'm hoping that it wasn't affected with the dengue virus.
Momentito Cuatro
I went to a meeting this afternoon about a tree-planting initiative in the city of Corrientes. I really had little idea what was going on before, during, and after this meeting. It was a unique experience to say the least, or maybe it only unique in comparison to previous experiences that I have had. It could have been quite typical as far as meetings here go; in fact, I suspect that this is the case. Anyway, this opportunity sort of dropped in our laps--it wasn't as if we went searching for individuals interested in planting trees in Corrientes. (I'm not saying it's a bad idea; I have helped my dad plant quite a few trees, and I've watered more than I would like to count.) So I went to this meeting knowing very few details, and I didn't really know much more when I left. We passed around a cold mate drink quite a few times and discussed the importance of planting trees in the city for a rather long time. I couldn't tell who was supposed to be leading the meeting or who had the most information. I didn't follow everything that was being said, but my contribution was to emphasize the fact that people needed to understand how to plant trees properly and also care for the trees after planted. I could just imagine a group of excited kids planting a tree and then watching it die a few weeks later. I also suggested that we organize the effort through the schools and try to find classes that would take over the responsibility as a class initiative. I don't really know how much influence my comments had. I didn't sense a clear directions during or after the meeting: there were no clear objectives (OK, no objectives clear to me) and no clear delegation of tasks that needed to be accomplished. By my usual standards, the meeting was a complete waste of time. So what is God trying to teach me here about culture and people and myself? Maybe that sometimes relating to one another is more important that accomplishing objectives. That working together is sometimes more important than following the direction of an appointed leader. And that patience and concern for others are qualities that I still have quite a bit to learn about. I allowed my frustration with the general lack of organization to get in the way of showing genuine interest in the project and in the people gathered. People come first: it's a lesson that God continues to impress upon me through experiences such as this one.
Momentito Uno
On a national level, Argentina is never far from a crisis of some sort: economic or political. What I have failed to consider until recently is the state of crisis that also exists on a personal level for many Argentines. A conversation with Gugey last week provided new insight: He shared from personal experience that while working at a factory in Rosario, he witnessed many situations in which employees allowed themselves to be overworked and manipulated. They feared, of course, that if they didn't comply with the demands of the employer, that they would lose their jobs. In a country where labor laws are often unenforced, some employees regularly work 100 hours per week without relief. They are unable, or unwilling, to negotiate a change for fear of losing what little they have. In this state of constant stress and fatigue, life is lived moment by moment. Is there food for the next meal? Good. Do the kids have clothes for school tomorrow? Good. There is little planning for tomorrow, let alone any preparation for life five or ten years down the road; after all, today has enough worries of its own.
Ask kids what they want to be when they grow up and many will have absolutely no idea. Seriously! It's difficult for me to understand because when I was a kid, grown-ups were always asking me what I wanted to do "when I grew up." And I had plenty of ideas too. But last week, as a result of talking with Guadalupe, I realized that many young people here have never given future career possibilities a serious thought. Why not? Their families are living day by day. While this lifestyle may be positive in the the sense that it encourages focusing on the here and now instead of living merely for the past or future, it is, in another sense, quite debilitating and prevents an individual from moving forward. In my experience, accomplishments are often realized through the process of goal setting; through the process of envisioning that which will one be or that which could be as opposed to that which merely is. Is this a limited, North American perspective? Perhaps, but I have to wonder if this lack of goal setting, this lack of vision (and sometimes hope) for the future, this constant instability and fear of change on a personal level is also responsible for the crisis-stricken government as well. I mean this merely as an observation and not as an egocentric criticism of Argentina in comparison to the United States.
Momentito Dos
I finally realized why I'm often given a little piece of candy after paying for something at a store: There is a shortage of coins in Argentina right now, and the storekeepers sometimes make up for the fact that they don't have the appropriate change to give a costumer by giving them a piece of candy instead. Wait a second. Here I thought they were just being nice--like when you go to a bank and they give the kids lollipops and the dogs treats. But no; the other day, the guy at the Internet cafe took back my piece of candy when he found the ten centavos that he had been missing. Shoot. This change shortage really is an interesting concept--OK, so sometimes it's just annoying. For example, you need change or a prepaid card in order to purchase a bus ticket: we're not talking about a lot of change, one peso and thirty centavos. One evening I found myself out of change, so I went to a small kiosk and bought a soda in order to get some change--or at least this was my intention, but the storekeeper didn't have change and gave me bills instead. So I made the mistake of thinking that some kind-hearted person would give me change for my bills. Wrong. When I made this request at the kiosk down the street, the worker just laughed at me. I had to resort to taking a remise home--a sort of taxi--because I didn't have the change. Que ridiculo. Now if I was the president of Argentina, I would take a lot of two peso bills out of circulation and replace them with coins...but I'm not la presidenta de Argentina and I'll admit that maybe there is more to this than meets the eye. Maybe. The point is that my concept of justice and of common sense objects to this situation: I don't want to be short-changed (and I didn't ask for a piece of candy) and I don't want to pay eight pesos for a remise when I should be able to take a bus for one-thirty. What I need to learn from the Argentines through these experiences is to make the best of situations that I can't personally change--to be thankful for the piece of candy and ...well, to buy a prepaid bus card, I guess. Make do when there's no other option. It's probably not worth stressing about.
Momentito tres
After a birthday dinner a few days ago, discussion among the individuals gathered, turned to the topic of the rising rates of dengue in the nearby province of Chaco. I was surprised to hear the person sitting beside me blame the situation on the government. After all, what on earth can a physical condition, a disease, have to do with the government? I verbalized this very question and here is the general reasoning that I received: The government is responsible for the widespread corruption within Argentina which includes the deforestation and misdirection of public funds which is responsible in some way for an increase in mosquito breeding grounds and lack of fumigation/spraying in public areas. In fact the government should really be handing out insect repellent in every barrio...OK, so I'm exaggerating, this wasn't mentioned. This individual is right: there is probably widespread corruption within the provincial and national governments, and there is quite certainly a rising infection rate of dengue, which is disturbing. Now I still don't see the direct connection between these two facts, but it's apparently obvious to many Argentines. Right? Wrong? Let's just say that we have a definite difference in perspective due to our views of and experiences with government. Anyway, I think that a mosquito just bit me and I'm hoping that it wasn't affected with the dengue virus.
Momentito Cuatro
I went to a meeting this afternoon about a tree-planting initiative in the city of Corrientes. I really had little idea what was going on before, during, and after this meeting. It was a unique experience to say the least, or maybe it only unique in comparison to previous experiences that I have had. It could have been quite typical as far as meetings here go; in fact, I suspect that this is the case. Anyway, this opportunity sort of dropped in our laps--it wasn't as if we went searching for individuals interested in planting trees in Corrientes. (I'm not saying it's a bad idea; I have helped my dad plant quite a few trees, and I've watered more than I would like to count.) So I went to this meeting knowing very few details, and I didn't really know much more when I left. We passed around a cold mate drink quite a few times and discussed the importance of planting trees in the city for a rather long time. I couldn't tell who was supposed to be leading the meeting or who had the most information. I didn't follow everything that was being said, but my contribution was to emphasize the fact that people needed to understand how to plant trees properly and also care for the trees after planted. I could just imagine a group of excited kids planting a tree and then watching it die a few weeks later. I also suggested that we organize the effort through the schools and try to find classes that would take over the responsibility as a class initiative. I don't really know how much influence my comments had. I didn't sense a clear directions during or after the meeting: there were no clear objectives (OK, no objectives clear to me) and no clear delegation of tasks that needed to be accomplished. By my usual standards, the meeting was a complete waste of time. So what is God trying to teach me here about culture and people and myself? Maybe that sometimes relating to one another is more important that accomplishing objectives. That working together is sometimes more important than following the direction of an appointed leader. And that patience and concern for others are qualities that I still have quite a bit to learn about. I allowed my frustration with the general lack of organization to get in the way of showing genuine interest in the project and in the people gathered. People come first: it's a lesson that God continues to impress upon me through experiences such as this one.
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