¡Ten Cuidado!

Once upon a time, the group I worked with bought an office complex in Salt Lake City out of foreclosure.  As one can imagine, the building was in rough shape and the extreme weather in Salt Lake did it no favors.  The building had a lot of problems, but, seemingly most important to me, was that the building was mostly vacant and losing money.  My boss had a different idea.  He was freaked out about the problems with the walkways.  He demanded that the, “trip hazards,” be fixed immediately.  Whenever I saw him, almost inevitably the conversation turned to the trip hazards and whether or not they had been fixed.  Reprimands would follow if acceptable progress had not been made.

It seemed that my boss was overreacting at the time, but, ultimately, I think his paranoia was justified.  My boss understood that, “the pursuit of happiness,” defined by our founders is partially code for an ability for the common man to pursue wild land speculations, questionable gold mining ventures, to provoke wars with unsuspecting foreigners, or whatever else might strike his fancy, all in the name of getting rich as quickly as possible.  This dream was to be accomplished minimal government interference or, preferably for the well connected, with explicit government support.  This tradition continues in our own times with a breed of lawyers, envious of what Jay Gould helped pioneer on Wall Street, getting in on the game by encouraging lawsuits for the slightest infractions.  One slip on a snowy day and our project might have been sunk.

In Buenos Aires there is no such tradition.  There is instead a more cavalier attitude towards public safety.  One day one will wake up and walk down a street towards a major intersection, say the corner of Armenia and Costa Rica in Plaza Armenia, and one will observe the unusual sight of cars backed up for several blocks when normally they would be free flowing.  Following their sad path leads to a large pile of rocks in the middle of the street at the intersection to indicate that work has begun on the street.  The sidewalk and road are completely torn up, there are gaping holes everywhere, with no indication of when the work might finish and, oftentimes, no barriers of any kind with the exception of a pile of rocks to prevent traffic from driving through.  A friend has observed that it would not be easy to be blind in Buenos Aires.  There is nothing to prevent you from tripping and breaking your neck when crossing a street you had safely crossed a thousand times before.

Another, more alarming, problem is that the Porteños have thought long and hard about it and decided that fire safety is less important than securing their buildings.  Not only do fire exits not exist, but the front doors require a key to exit from the inside.  If you are visiting a friend and a fire breaks out, you had better hope that you are able to get to the apartment and building entrances with someone who has a key.  Otherwise, good luck with the jump.

Plutarch tells the story that Caesar, upon seeing rich foreigners visiting Rome and lavishing attention on their pet dogs and monkeys, asked them whether or not they bore children in their country.  Plutarch goes on to teach that humankind’s gifts should be directed towards affection to one’s fellow man and the pursuit of virtue instead of lavishly applied on other objects.  In Buenos Aires they have different ideas.  That leads to the biggest public safety hazard in the city.

They love their dogs in Buenos Aires.  I have never seen a city with so many different dogs.  A favorite travel photo for many is of the dog walkers of Buenos Aires, people who might take three, five or ten different dogs out for a walk on a given day.  These walkers manage the dogs under their care with the kind of control that leads one to believe that Cesar Milan must have secretly spent time in Buenos Aires to learn his craft.  What these dog walkers and the dog owners don’t love, however, is cleaning up after their dogs.

There is dog crap everywhere.  It is unbelievable.  You try to lie in the grass in the park, you are surrounded by crap.  You walk around in any neighborhood, even the fanciest ones, and the sidewalk is covered in dog crap.  All a tourist wants to do is walk around BA’s neighborhoods and enjoy the architecture, but you cannot.  Other people and cars be damned,  your eyes are glued to the ground.  The worst is after a rainy day.  What would otherwise be mostly harmless after drying out is reborn to once again give challenge to your shoes.  What is that smell?  If the Kirchners would do something to combat this evil I think the Monumento de los Españoles should be torn down and in its place a new bronze monument should be built of Cristina and Nestor vigilantly guarding their fair city from this disgusting menace, each with a scooper in hand.

This entry ends The Other Way’s first chapter: Life in Buenos Aires.  After seemingly an eternity, my dearest Double S has arrived and we have left for the wilds of Brazil and to explore deepest, darkest Argentina.  I will try and update as frequently as possible.  Stay tuned.