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	<title>From Bmore to BA</title>
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	<link>http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca</link>
	<description>One young man's journey to find himself and discover who his biological father really is</description>
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		<title>Is there anybody out there?</title>
		<link>http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/is-there-anybody-out-there.html</link>
		<comments>http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/is-there-anybody-out-there.html#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 08 Apr 2007 23:04:52 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>adam R</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[About Me]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[home]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Argentina]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[blogging]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Six months have passed since my last post, so I&#8217;m not sure if even the site programmer will be reading this. But if I&#8217;ve long ago won you over with my acerbic wit and pithy observations of life far south of the border, perhaps on rare occasion you still breeze by here for a peek, [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Six months have passed since my last post, so I&#8217;m not sure if even the site programmer will be reading this. But if I&#8217;ve long ago won you over with my acerbic wit and pithy observations of life far south of the border, perhaps on rare occasion you still breeze by here for a peek, longing deep down for my triumphant return to blogdom. (Clearly the offense of time has not extinguished any familiarity with the one universal truth of blogging: Thou shalt traffick in wildly excessive self-indulgence/self-importance /self-reference/self-anything)</p>
<p>I could make excuses for my hiatus&#8230;so I will. I&#8217;ve been busy and boring. I haven&#8217;t gone anywhere exotic (though a prevalence of snakes and bottom-feeders renders Washington, D.C. fairly jungle-esque). But I have been writing. Which brings me to the main purpose of this post &#8211; to explain that while the medium may have changed, the message remains the same. Though no longer blogging, I&#8217;m now a contributing writer to an online magazine. The magazine started off as a side project, largely for shits&#8217;n'giggles, for a guy from the Wall Street Journal and his friend at Wired. Two years later, it&#8217;s evolved into a full-time job for one of them, and hopefully soon (inshallah), the other.</p>
<p>Really though, I&#8217;m quite grateful for anyone who&#8217;s been kind enough to waste 10 minutes at work peering into my trials and tribulations since that fateful day &#8211; Sept. 8, 2005 &#8211; I arrived in Buenos Aires (note above truth), with the exception of my mother, who would choose to do so even after work. So if the bone-dry soul of your work-evading being needs a-drenching, look no further.</p>
<p />Thanks.</p>
<p />
<blockquote><p><a href="http://www.gelfmagazine.com/contributors/adam_rosen.php">My articles at Gelf Magazine</a> <strong>(the magazine I work for)</strong></p></blockquote>
<blockquote><p><a href="http://www.flakmag.com/rejected/derelict.html">My fake-news article at Flak Mag</a></p></blockquote>
<p>For those of you who couldn&#8217;t care less and just want to know the goods on Argentina, here&#8217;s a list of my <strong>Blogging Greatest Hits </strong></p>
<p><strong><br />
</strong><a target="_blank" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/?p=69">Moving to Buenos Aires: Illusion vs. Reality</a></p>
<p><a target="_blank" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/?p=73">Buenos Aires on 30 Pesos a Day</a></p>
<p><a target="_blank" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/?p=62">Craig&#8217;s List: A Treasure Trove of all Things Good and Indecent</a></p>
<p><a target="_blank" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/?p=41"> Droppin&#8217; Some Knowledge Vol. 1: The Madres of the Plaza de Mayo</a></p>
<p><a target="_blank" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/?p=83">Droppin&#8217; Some Knowledge Vol. 2: Argentina vs. Uruguay</a></p>
<p><a target="_blank" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/?p=104">Droppin&#8217; Some Knowledge Vol. 3: Musicology</a> (by far the most read of the series)</p>
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		<title>Kim Jong-Il Dunking a Basketball</title>
		<link>http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/kim-jong-il-dunking-a-basketball.html</link>
		<comments>http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/kim-jong-il-dunking-a-basketball.html#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 13 Oct 2006 21:03:59 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>adam R</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Travel]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[&#8230;Need I say more? According to notorious political gossip queen Matt Drudge &#8211; the D.C. equivalent of the folks at gawker.com &#8211; the GOP has decided to shelve an anti-Democrat TV ad produced by David Zucker, of &#8220;Naked Gun&#8221; fame, and, more recently, the venerable &#8220;Scary Movie&#8221; series, 3-5. There&#8217;s no Leslie Neilson in this [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>&#8230;Need I say more?</p>
<p>According to notorious political gossip queen Matt Drudge &#8211; the D.C. equivalent of the folks at <a target="_blank" title="Gawker" href="http://www.gawker.com">gawker.com</a> &#8211; the GOP has decided to shelve an anti-Democrat TV ad produced by David Zucker, of &#8220;Naked Gun&#8221; fame, and, more recently, the venerable &#8220;Scary Movie&#8221; series, 3-5.</p>
<p>There&#8217;s no Leslie Neilson in this production, but after watching the Will Ferrell-esque (think <strong>Reno Time</strong>) caricature of Madeline Albright scrub a wall in Osama&#8217;s cave, you&#8217;ll no doubt be asking yourself, &#8220;Shirley you can&#8217;t be serious?&#8221;</p>
<p>Without any further ado:</p>
<p><a target="_blank" href="http://drudgereport.com/flashma.htm"><strong>&#8216;Scary Movie&#8217; Producer Makes Campaign Ad; Mocks Democrats</strong></a></p>
<p />
Who knew the Republican leadership had such a good sense of humor? I found it rather unoriginal when Dick Cheney articulated what Senator Patrick Leahy <a target="_blank" href="http://www.usatoday.com/news/washington/2004-06-25-cheney-curse_x.htm">could do with himself </a>in 2004. Ages have passed since I&#8217;ve chuckled so hard <em>with</em> them.</p>
<p />
Another one of Zucker&#8217;s masterpieces (no sarcasm intended), this one dating from the 2005 Presidential election:<strong><a target="_blank" href="http://www.clubforgrowth.net/2006/10/john_kerry_cant_make_up_his_mi.html" /></strong></p>
<p><strong><a target="_blank" href="http://www.clubforgrowth.net/2006/10/john_kerry_cant_make_up_his_mi.html">John Kerry Can&#8217;t Make up his Mind</a> </strong></p>
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		<title>Boludo, Soy</title>
		<link>http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/uhwhats-er-going-on.html</link>
		<comments>http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/uhwhats-er-going-on.html#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 29 Sep 2006 04:09:39 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>adam R</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Travel]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Baltimore]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[work]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[I hate that we have to meet like this, but it couldn&#8217;t be avoided. I should be posting alot more and I know I&#8217;ve been a bad boy, but the truth is this: No matter how hard you try, the Man always wins &#8211; which means now that I&#8217;m the consummate American office jockey, I [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I hate that we have to meet like this, but it couldn&#8217;t be avoided. I should be posting alot more and I know I&#8217;ve been a bad boy, but the truth is this:</p>
<ol>
<li>No matter how hard you try, the Man always wins &#8211; which means now that I&#8217;m the consummate American office jockey, I no longer have the luxury, nor the energy, to stay up till 3 am or while away the afternoon lost in daydreams of grilled meat and exotic women cooing my name.</li>
<li>Like I just mentioned, I&#8217;m just a regular working stiff; I doubt anybody really cares to hear harrowing accounts of double-sided copying and paralyzing computer malfunctions. Besides, there&#8217;s nothing I could say that that <a target="_blank" href="http://www.dilbert.com/comics/dilbert/archive/dilbert-20060907.html">Dilbert</a> hasn&#8217;t already.</li>
</ol>
<p>The other day I was casually checking this blog and I noticed that my most recent post was missing. Apparently the <strong>bootsNall</strong> server (the kind people who publish all my fanciful blather) broke down a week ago, wreaking total havoc on its own homegrown blogosphere. Fortunately I got off easy with just one post deleted &#8211; which was re-typed a few hours ago&#8230;but, according to bootsNall, when the hard drive wiped out in some cases it took <em>entire</em> blogs along with it. That stings. Which reminds me &#8211; I better make like <a target="_blank" href="http://www.lyricsdownload.com/juvenile-back-that-thang-up-edited-version-lyrics.html">Juvenile</a> and back this thing up.</p>
<p>I still plan on posting and droppin&#8217; some more knowledge on ya&#8217;ll, but the longer I&#8217;m away from Argentina, the closer my mind drifts to the current state of affairs. That&#8217;s not to say I haven&#8217;t anything interesting to comment on &#8211; just that possible topics to be broached may take on a less exciting tone. For example, in Argentina I was one of the few men of my generation living alone, and I was living in what is arguably the city&#8217;s most happening neighborhood. Now I go to sleep next to a bookcase stocked with <a target="_blank" href="http://www.judyblume.com/jb-bio.html">Judy Blume</a> and wake up being harangued to clean my room. Things have changed. At any rate, if you can weather the storm and bare with me for the time being, this will eventually morph back into original form as a travel blog after I take off on my next Latin American adventure to Mexico.</p>
<p>Saludos! Viva Mexico! <strong>Viva la revolucion!</strong> (Damn it feels good saying that)</p>
<p><script language="javascript" /></p>
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		<title>&#8230;And We&#8217;re Back</title>
		<link>http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/and-were-back.html</link>
		<comments>http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/and-were-back.html#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 29 Sep 2006 02:55:08 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>adam R</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Travel]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Argentina]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Baltimore]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[In [this country], red lights come in many varieties. A rare few actually mean stop. Others, to the driver, suggest different interpretations. At a pedestrian crossing at 7 a.m., with no pedestrians around, it is a &#8220;negotiable red,&#8221; more like a weak orange. At a traffic intersection, red could mean&#8230;full red, but it might, with [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote><p><em>In [this country], red lights come in many varieties. A rare few actually mean stop. Others, to the driver, suggest different interpretations. At a pedestrian crossing at 7 a.m., with no pedestrians around, it is a &#8220;negotiable red,&#8221; more like a weak orange. At a traffic intersection, red could mean&#8230;full red, but it might, with no cars coming, be more of a suggestion than a command. It all depends. </em></p></blockquote>
<blockquote><p><em><br />
&#8220;Obedience is boring. We want to think about it. We want to decide whether a particular law applies to our specific case. In that place, at that time.&#8221; This principle applies to traffic regulations, taxes, solemn laws and personal behavior. Everything is personal and open to discussion.</em></p>
<p><em>&#8220;Controllers and controlled have an unspoken agreement,&#8221; Mr. Severgnini writes. &#8220;You don&#8217;t change, we don&#8217;t change, and [the country] doesn&#8217;t change, but we all complain that we can&#8217;t go on like this.&#8221; </em></p></blockquote>
<p>The above passages were taken from a recent book review in the New York Times. In this book, &#8220;La Bella Figura,&#8221; a local journalist tackles some of the idiosyncracies that he feels are most emblematic of his country. Do the descriptions remind you of anywhere?</p>
<p><span id="more-129"></span></p>
<p>Actually, the book is about Italy, but while I was reading the <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2006/08/23/books/23grim.html?ex=1159588800&#038;en=b67422bde4a1f0c4&#038;ei=5070">review</a> I could&#8217;ve sworn the book&#8217;s author, Beppe Severgnini, was chronicling a more familiar location. While I haven&#8217;t read the bok, I find Severgnini&#8217;s observations (per the NYT piece) dead-on in depicting <em>La Argentina</em>. Maybe this should be of little surprise, given the country&#8217;s huge legacy of <a target="_blank" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Immigration_in_Argentina">Italian immigration</a>, but the level of similarity between the place described by Severgnini and Argentina is uncanny. Lest on disagree with this comparison, I&#8217;ll humbly refer you to the point made in the previous post regarding Fernet, the mentholly, earthy-tasting alcohol that has production facilities in only two locations in the world: Milan and the Buenos Aires province.</p>
<p>So, <strong>we&#8217;re back</strong>. Now what&#8217;s new?</p>
<p>Everything and nothing.</p>
<p>Oddly enough, life in Argentina goes on without me. <em>Colectivos</em> are still belching exhaust as they chase pedestrians down narrow alleyways at top speed, and clubs are still blasting &#8220;Dancing Queen&#8221; to cynical partygoers willing to subject their eyes to the site of beautiful people at the expense of their ears. People still go to the mall. They probably fart, too. And they do it all as if I&#8217;d never set foot in the country, 5,000 miles away from my own home, for almost a year. Such is the painful acknowledgement of any traveller returning back home after a long journey. <em>C&#8217;est La Vie. You live, you learn. Life goes on. He who taketh from the cookie jar</em>&#8230;OK I&#8217;ll stop.</p>
<p>Things have been going fairly smoothly since I&#8217;ve been home. I&#8217;ve found a good temp job in marketing and PR, which will have me writing newsletters and press releases, so I&#8217;m pleased about that. Better yet, I&#8217;ve been able to continue some semblance of my former spanish-speaking life; every day I eat lunch with Colombian coworkers who are always more than happy to chat with me in their mother tongue despite my offensive, yanqui-tainted porteno accent.</p>
<p>Yesterday I actually made it out to the Baltimore County &#8220;Latinofest,&#8221; but it was a bit dissapointing, probably due to the fact that the largest concentration of latinos in the Baltimore area is in the city, not the county. It only had a few stands setup &#8211; most of which were from the local government&#8217;s spanish liasion or local politicians trying to recruit new voters for the upcoming election &#8211; and there wasn&#8217;t even any <strong>cumbia</strong>. But I did get to practice spanish, so it wasn&#8217;t all for naught.</p>
<p>I wasn&#8217;t there for long, but I didn&#8217;t have to be to notice that there wasn&#8217;t much of a place for Argentina in this self-titled &#8220;Latinofest.&#8221; There were no milanesas or choripanes being sold on the street at this festival, nor any flags with smiling suns in between baby blue stripes flapping around in the breeze. In fact, this could&#8217;ve more accurately been dubbed &#8220;Central AmericanFest&#8221; by virtue of the overwhelming Salvadorian, Guatemalan and Mexican presence.</p>
<p>My decision to indulge in the <em>tamale de pollo</em> being sold from a stand that had been cooking in the 90-degree heat since morning turned out to be an unfortunate one, though as a result Latinofest&#8217;s legacy has stayed with me longer than I originally intended, especially in my digestive organs. Though I suppose this is an appropriate omen, considering my recent plans. My roommate from Buenos Aires, Nico, is going to be visiting his father &#8211; who lives in Mexico City &#8211; around Christmastime, and then travelling down through Mexico and Central America overland for (his) summer break, along with another friend. While I haven&#8217;t booked my flight yet, I&#8217;m planning on joining them for a month or two. I anticipate my fair share of digestive tract issues on a trip like this&#8230;they don&#8217;t call it &#8220;<a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=montezuma%27s+revenge">Montezuma&#8217;s Revenge</a>&#8221; for nothing.</p>
<p><strong>So, you may be wondering, have I called off Argentina for good?</strong></p>
<p>That depends on what is considered &#8220;for good.&#8221; For the next year or so, it seems, the answer is yes. I&#8217;d love to go back and visit friends, see the glaciars, explore the northwest, and do everything else I didn&#8217;t have the chance to do, but for now I don&#8217;t think I&#8217;ll be doing any of that. The reason is, I really don&#8217;t have anythig to go back for. I had my experience there, and I respect it for what it was, both good parts and bad parts. Whatever they were, they were meaningful in their own way. But I have neither a stable, self-sustaining job, nor have I found the love of my life &#8211; two key reasons to truly warrant another sabbatical to this faraway land. To go back to Argentina without either of these, to scrape by as a two-bit English teacher all in attempts to keep the shits&#8217;n'giggles going would just be gratuitous. I&#8217;m inclined to believe that vague attempts to re-live past glories, be it reenacting high school or college escapades, spending too much time in a place, or going to a <a href="http://www.melodicrock.com/interviews/journey-generations.html">Journey reunion</a> concert, are just that: in vain.</p>
<p>That being said, nothing&#8217;s for certain. (Well, except for taxes and death, according to Benjamin Franklin. Seems much more Woody Allenesque to me). In the meantime I fully intend to keep this blog&#8230;as to where is anybody&#8217;s guess.</p>
<p>&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;</p>
<p>ALSO &#8211; Want to waste more time at work? Check out <strong> my latest article</strong> about my trip to Paraguay here:</p>
<p><a href="http://www.gelfmagazine.com/mt/archives/sabbath_in_asuncin.html"><strong>Sabbath in Asuncion </strong></a></p>
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		<title>2 Ply, Sweet 2 Ply</title>
		<link>http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/what-a-long-strange-trip-its-been.html</link>
		<comments>http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/what-a-long-strange-trip-its-been.html#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 04 Aug 2006 20:12:05 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>adam R</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[home]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Argentina]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Baltimore]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[USA]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Editor&#8217;s note: As I write this I&#8217;m sipping on a glass of Fernet Branca, Argentina&#8217;s most popular liquor (nevermind that it&#8217;s Italian &#8211; the only other factory in the world lies in the Buenos Aires province) I arrived back in the US around 6:30ish Wednesday morning. As I sweated through the baggage claim lugging my [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><strong>Editor&#8217;s note:</strong> As I write this I&#8217;m sipping on a glass of <a target="_blank" href="http://www.sfweekly.com/issues/2005-12-07/news/feature.html">Fernet Branca</a>, Argentina&#8217;s most popular liquor (nevermind that it&#8217;s Italian &#8211; the only other factory in the world lies in the Buenos Aires province)</p>
<p>I arrived back in the US around 6:30ish Wednesday morning. As I sweated through the baggage claim lugging my 40-kilo suitcase, bursting at the seams with soccer jerseys and bottles of fernet and wine, the most obvious difference between Buenos Aires and the US became readily apparent: about 60 degrees (farenheit). At its coldest in Buenos Aires just before I left, the thermometer read 4 degrees celsius, or about 40 degrees farenheit. In Washington DC it was 100 degrees farenheit with 100 % humidity by 10 am. I much prefer the cold to the heat, though knowing I wouldn&#8217;t be mercilessly squashed &#8211; intimate parts and all &#8211; into a bunch of total strangers in the sweltering heat incubator that is the BA subway had a cooling, soothing effect on my own homestasis.</p>
<p>Speaking of DC, there&#8217;s hardly a more dramatic place to arrive after a year abroad than the capital, copiously overflowing as it is with Americana. So much for easing the transition slowly&#8230;passing by Congress, the Washington Monument, and a half-dozen bureaucracies helped make up for all the time spent abroad gazing at another place&#8217;s own propaganda. In the case of Argentina, this would equate to subway banners, TV commercials and the like all promoting one random program or another (like drug addiction assistance, for example) but uniformly and prominently mentioning that each one is a service of &#8211; let us all give thanks &#8211; &#8220;La Presidencia de La Nacion.&#8221; No matter what you think of the <a target="_blank" href="http://www.presidencia.gov.ar/presidente.aspx">Prez</a>, one thing&#8217;s for sure: he is making his presence known. Just a month ago the NYT published a <a target="_blank" href="http://select.nytimes.com/gst/abstract.html?res=F3081FFD3E540C718CDDAE0894DE404482">brief piece</a> on reporting in Latin America, noting that in Argentina the President has been lavishing money on the press, even accounting for 75 % of one paper&#8217;s advertising revenue through his own &#8220;awareness campaigns.&#8221;</p>
<p>Being home doesn&#8217;t feel as strange as I anticipated. At least not as much as when I arrived back in Bmore after my 5 month stint abroad in Barcelona. I&#8217;d imagine if I&#8217;d spent the whole year in, say, Asuncion, the reverse culture shock would be noticeably more pronounced than having lived in Buenos Aires, but I&#8217;m still surprised at how easy it&#8217;s business as usual back here. I think this is both good and bad &#8211; good obviously because I&#8217;m right back on my feet, but bad because the more seasoned you are the less &#8220;shocked&#8221; you are; unsettling as it is, feeling like a fish out of water is usually conducive to the shamelessly awkward experience.</p>
<p>It&#8217;s been a whole year since I&#8217;ve been behind the wheel a car, but for lack of a better phrase, it&#8217;s just like riding bike: windows down, 92 Q &#8211; Bmore&#8217;s own proper rap station bumping &#8211; and it&#8217;s just like old times. Actually though, with the exception of the unique Baltimore underground rap/house music hybrid, known simply enough as <a target="_blank" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baltimore_Club">Bmore Club</a> (such classics include the metaphorical &#8220;Shake dat ass Girl&#8221;), I&#8217;d have to say that most of the music on 92 Q absolutely sucked (lest you disagree with this choice word, <a target="_blank" href="http://www.slate.com/id/2146866/">look no further</a>). With the likes of David Banner and Lil&#8217; John leading the game these days, I think it&#8217;s safe to say I definitely didn&#8217;t miss much being out of the country for a year. In fact it was almost better being in Buenos Aires; even if they are years behind in their rap music at least the classics they play have a hook, as opposed to a guy screaming in repetition for 3 minutes, ala Lil&#8217; John. ATL be damned &#8211; you&#8217;ve done ruined the game. After too many minutes of this talentless cacophony I popped in a disc of <em>Los Pibes Chorros</em>, my favorite <a target="_blank" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/?p=104">Cumbia Villera</a> group, instantly transporting me back to the good old days of Argentina and Once, the rough-and-tumble Buenos Aires neighborhood where I tracked the disc down.</p>
<p>While I haven&#8217;t as of yet met up with anyone with the distinctive rioplatenese tinge (as in &#8220;po-zho&#8221; for <em>pollo</em> or &#8220;ma-zho&#8221; for <em>mayo</em>), I&#8217;m quite pleased to report my Spanish has been in full use since my arrival. Yesterday I had lunch at a Mexican place and chatted it up with the waiter, who&#8217;s from Costa Rica. For dinner I went out with three Colombian family friends. Today I spoke with my housekeeper, who&#8217;s from Guatemala, and I randomly ran into a Mexican girl. Dare I say living in Argentina, where they speak notoriously fast and slang-filled, well prepared me to converse with the rest of Spanish-speaking Latin America, who in my experience speaks the language clearer and easier.</p>
<p>So far it&#8217;s not so terrible to be back, though I&#8217;ve a strong feeling the novelty will soon wear off only to be replaced by unrelenting boredom. 2 ply toilet paper was *sorely* missed. The heat is sweltering, but no worse than Buenos Aires on a scorching summer day. Still not sure what the next move entails, but in the meantime I&#8217;ll be slowly but surely converting my bedroom from 1996 to a modest Latin American art exhibit, and in the meantime catching up with everybody I haven&#8217;t seen in awhile. Stay tuned&#8230;</p>
<p>P.S. In response to the blog&#8217;s subtitle &#8211; I&#8217;ve found my biological father. Turns out he was the old guy I&#8217;ve been living with all these years. Go figure.</p>
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		<title>Palabra.</title>
		<link>http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/palabra.html</link>
		<comments>http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/palabra.html#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 31 Jul 2006 15:20:36 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>adam R</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[About Me]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Buenos Aires]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[adios]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Argentina]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[I leave Buenos Aires tommorow night. Aside from running around day and night finishing up the interminable last minute errands, this past week saw a lot of positive developments unfold, resulting in one of the most enjoyable weekends of all my time in Argentina. First, the English Institute I worked for paid me on time [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I leave Buenos Aires tommorow night.</p>
<p>Aside from running around day and night finishing up the interminable last minute errands, this past week saw a lot of positive developments unfold, resulting in one of the most enjoyable weekends of all my time in Argentina. First, the English Institute I worked for paid me on time and in full, providing not only peace of mind that I was going to leave Argentina with all of my rightful earnings but also with a fresh injection of cash towards the party fund.</p>
<p>Secondly, my roommate left on Wednesday. I haven’t really dwelled on this topic in  previous posts, but living with her for the past 6 months has been more than a challenge in its own right. While she used to be occupied enough with her internship from December till May, just before she was due to return to France at the end of May she decided to extend her stay in Buenos Aires for another two months so she could be with her boyfriend, Rúben, who’s practically been our 4th roommate for the past 4 months. Difficult as she was, at least while she was keeping busy we all had our own proper breathing space. For the past two months though getting up before 1 pm and leaving the apartment for the grocery store could be considered a productive day. Extra points if she actually left the block.</p>
<p>Living with her, it could be said, is like living with your mother – but with all of the bad qualities and none of the good, like cooking you hot soup and telling you how special you are. Said negative qualities include, but are certainly not limited to: incessant nagging, not being able to listen to music late (never loud), not being able to invite friends over without a hassle, bad temper for no discernible reason, guilt trips, unnecessary snide remarks, etc. As Nico – our other roommate – and I are both two young guys who like to play hard after we work hard, this type of behavior was far from welcome. Claire, mind you, is only 27 – not exactly the age to mope around doing nothing but watching American reality TV for hours on end.</p>
<p>Like the ancient Hebrews just liberated from Pharoah’s Egypt, the taste of freedom in this apartment was sweet and it was savored upon her exodus. I shouted purely on a whim. I listened to music after 10 pm, and did I ever turn it up. I left the dishes in the sink. Whoo-wee. In summation, the positive, relaxed vibe that had been lacking at home for too long and occasionally even kept me away from my own place blissfully returned, and with fuerza, culminating in a fantastic weekend.</p>
<p>Three great dinners out was a start – Thursday, Friday, and Sunday, where I had my last true Argentine parrilla, replete with two monstrous cuts of the most tender, mouthwatering steak imaginable, a big salad, bread, half a bottle of wine and soda water for 36 pesos between two people &#8211; $6 USD per person; Lord how I’ll miss this place (FYI this parilla, just across the Palermo line in Chacarita is, in my book, one of the best values in the city. The name of the place is <strong>El 22</strong> and it’s at the corner of Jufre and Godoy Cruz).<br />
Without a doubt though, the highlight of the week was Saturday when a bunch of friends &#8211; mostly Argentines but a fair share of yanquis, a few Colombians and even a smattering of Brits – and I got together for a little fiesta at a place in Las Canitas. Jordan and Sam, the owners of BA’s newest and finest Tex-Mex joint, <strong>California Burrito Company</strong> (on Lavalle 441) even graced us with their presence. Good people, good drinks, good times all around – I couldn’t have asked for a better sendoff. From start to finish it was a blast, with the night eventually ending at Kentucky, a reasonably-famous 24 hour pizza joint a few blocks away from my place, where to the waiter’s greeting of “buenos dias” (Good morning) my closest friends in Argentina and I rampaged through a pizza and several much-needed bottles of water. It was 7:30 am when I finally crawled into bed.</p>
<p><strong>Final thoughts, for real</strong></p>
<p>I feel strange right now, almost like I’m halfway between two separate worlds. I’m sad to leave the life I’ve worked so hard to carve out for myself down here, and I’m not exactly thrilled to be giving up my autonomy again – great as the ‘rents are – in a nondescript suburb that sits a 15 minute car ride away from the nearest restaurant, much less bar. What’s more, I’m coming back to ground zero just to start all over again while, in comparison, most of my friends are established and where they´re supposed to be one year out of college. At the same time it’s been a year since I’ve seen my friends and family, and for that I’m happy to come back. For sure, it’s not home I miss so much, but (some of) the people in it. I really think I could live in Argentina or pretty much anywhere in the world for an indefinite period of time.</p>
<p>Buenos Aires is an odd place. I didn’t even care for it much when I first arrived in Argentina. The noise and chaos that rules the street &#8211; and in many instances, life &#8211; is a bit hard to get a grip on when you arrive in this faraway land by yourself. Coming from a place where someone will always be held responsible for something, regardless of triviality or culpability (i.e. a too-hot cup of coffee or in the sidewalk), this rings particularly true; in Argentina, as in most of the world, things just happen, sometimes for a reason, but usually without redress.<br />
In retrospect, I don’t think I gave it a fair chance. I lived alone and knew nobody except for other Americans from the English teaching certification class I was taking, the vast majority of whom I came to Argentina to get away from in the first place. I spent the daytime bored out of my skull in class and the nighttime doing even more boring homework in smoky internet cafes. This definitely wasn’t the life I envisioned, so as soon as the course ended I jetted off around the country without even experiencing Buenos Aires as a normal working guy. When I moved to Córdoba a month later I always had this nagging feeling that I couldn’t cut it in BA, so eventually I knew I wasn’t going to leave Argentina without at least trying my damndest to live in the Big City, even if I died a slow death, one milanesa or choripan at a time.</p>
<p>My how things have changed. As of this moment there’s a Guia-T, the city’s indispensable pocket-size street map, stamped into my brain. I can recite each green line subway stop in order, forwards and backwards. Without a doubt, after one year in BA I know it better than 18 years in Bmore. Yes, now that it’s all said it done, I can assertively say Buenos Aires has been good to me. I’ve found work, friends, and diversion all within its confines…slowly but surely she’s nursed me from her sweet bosom from a wayward straggler to a confident porteño, hand gestures and all…or something like that.</p>
<p>It’s been real Argentina. We shall me meet again, old girl – <em>te lo juro</em>.<br />
Some pics from the party and other random shots:<br />
<a class="imagelink" id="p115" title="BA 021 (Small).jpg" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/?attachment_id=115" rel="attachment"><img id="image115" style="width: 456px; height: 330px" height="330" alt="BA 021 (Small).jpg" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/BA%20021%20(Small).jpg" width="456" /></a></p>
<p>Vicky, Juan, Caro (Nico´s friend) and Me</p>
<p><a class="imagelink" title="BA 023 (Small).jpg" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/BA%20023%20(Small).jpg"><img id="image116" style="width: 451px; height: 314px" height="314" alt="BA 023 (Small).jpg" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/BA%20023%20(Small).jpg" width="451" /></a></p>
<p>Sam, John, Jordan (not from CBC), Romina, Me, Dani</p>
<p><a class="imagelink" title="BA 019 (Small).jpg" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/BA%20019%20(Small).jpg"><img id="image117" style="width: 456px; height: 342px" height="342" alt="BA 019 (Small).jpg" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/BA%20019%20(Small).jpg" width="456" /></a></p>
<p>Me and Miriam</p>
<p><a class="imagelink" title="BA 026 (Small).jpg" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/BA%20026%20(Small).jpg"><img id="image118" style="width: 458px; height: 340px" height="340" alt="BA 026 (Small).jpg" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/BA%20026%20(Small).jpg" width="458" /></a></p>
<p>Yours truly and Nico</p>
<p><a class="imagelink" title="BA 025 (Small).jpg" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/BA%20025%20(Small).jpg"><img id="image119" style="width: 466px; height: 345px" height="345" alt="BA 025 (Small).jpg" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/BA%20025%20(Small).jpg" width="466" /></a></p>
<p>Dani, Brian and Miriam</p>
<p><a class="imagelink" title="BA 044 (Small).jpg" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/BA%20044%20(Small).jpg"><img id="image121" style="width: 463px; height: 329px" height="329" alt="BA 044 (Small).jpg" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/BA%20044%20(Small).jpg" width="463" /></a></p>
<p>Munching out at 7 am</p>
<p><a class="imagelink" title="BA 045 (Small).jpg" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/BA%20045%20(Small).jpg"><img id="image122" style="width: 467px; height: 371px" height="371" alt="BA 045 (Small).jpg" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/BA%20045%20(Small).jpg" width="467" /></a></p>
<p>The long walk home</p>
<p><a class="imagelink" title="BA 007 (Small).jpg" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/BA%20007%20(Small).jpg"><img id="image120" style="width: 309px; height: 382px" height="382" alt="BA 007 (Small).jpg" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/BA%20007%20(Small).jpg" width="309" /></a></p>
<p>At free tango class in Palermo &#8211; muchas gracias to the government of Buenos Aires</p>
<p><a class="imagelink" title="BA 048 (Small).jpg" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/BA%20048%20(Small).jpg"><img id="image123" style="width: 313px; height: 398px" height="398" alt="BA 048 (Small).jpg" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/BA%20048%20(Small).jpg" width="313" /></a></p>
<p>Scenic bar in San Telmo</p>
<p><a class="imagelink" id="p115" title="BA 021 (Small).jpg" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/?attachment_id=115" rel="attachment" /></p>
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		<title>The best chicken sandwich in the city is in a parking garage in San Telmo</title>
		<link>http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/the-best-chicken-sandwich-in-the-city-is-in-a-parking-garage-in-san-telmo.html</link>
		<comments>http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/the-best-chicken-sandwich-in-the-city-is-in-a-parking-garage-in-san-telmo.html#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 22 Jul 2006 18:26:11 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>adam R</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Buenos Aires]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Argentina]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[San Telmo]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false"></guid>
		<description><![CDATA[No, really.  A friend of mine (another blogger in BA, what’s more) introduced me to the spot and I must say – Dios Mio can this place cook up a chicken. Having lived here almost a year now I’ve not only had the pleasure of discovering places to eat and go out not listed in [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>No, really.  A friend of mine (another <a href="http://suitcaseonwheels.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">blogger</a> in BA, what’s more) introduced me to the spot and I must say – Dios Mio can this place cook up a chicken. Having lived here almost a year now I’ve not only had the pleasure of discovering places to eat and go out not listed in Time-Out or Lonely Planet, but I’ve also been able to serve as careful observer, dutifully noting the idiosyncrasies that make up and define – per recent Travel and Leisure Magazine <a href="http://www.travelandleisure.com/worldsbest/2006/results.cfm?cat=cities" target="_blank">ranking</a> – the “best city in Latin America.” </p>
<p>Hard to believe that this little foray to the other side of the planet comes to an abrupt close in just over a week. I could bore you now with the schmaltzy self-reflection that comes standard with any farewell, but I still have a week so there’s plenty of time left for that. At any rate, as my time in this fair land has been winding down I’ve been doing some reflecting. So without any further ado here are some reflections, thoughts, random musings, etc.     </p>
<ul>
<li>I think I’ve developed a nasty meat habit.                                                      </li>
<li>While “cancha” and “concha” may sound almost harmlessly identical to an English speaker, they’re not.  It took me several months and many an uncomfortable situation to realize this.</li>
<li>I’ve marched in political rallies and even paid income taxes. In short, I’m more Argentine than all of my Argentine friends.</li>
<li>No matter how many beautiful girls there are in a club being forced to hear Dancing Queen, Love Shack and Grease Lightning in rapid succession does not make it worth it.</li>
<li>Try as you might, no amount of frantic gesturing or persuasion at the barbershop will ever save you from The Mullet.   </li>
<li>Staying out till sunup on consecutive nights isn’t sane.  Last call at 1:30 in the States isn’t either.</li>
<li>About the bus: there’s <em>always</em> room for 5 more.</li>
<li>President Bush: considered a real poopie-head in these parts.</li>
<li>A dog’s right to shit on the sidewalk is not inalienable.</li>
<li>Free tango class: good place to meet girls, especially 60 year old ones.</li>
<li>“<a href="http://www.arnoldseefeld.com/blog/images/Mate.jpg" target="_blank">Mate elbow</a>” is a rare medical condition known exclusively to Argentina and Uruguay. </li>
<li>The omnipresent sound of sucking face eventually fades into the background, like traffic noise</li>
<li>A month or so ago I had the classically awkward experience of randomly seeing someone I used to date out at a party.  That really hammered home I’ve been here awhile. </li>
<li>For clarification purposes the profession is “delivery _____ <em>boy/girl/dude</em>” (or in local terms <em>chico/chica/boludo), </em>not just “delivery.”</li>
<li>Hell hath no fury like my hatred of Jon Bon Jovi. Being interminably barraged by his whiny, emasculated voice that hasn’t evolved one iota since 1987 is something no man outside of New Jersey can ever get used to.  </li>
<li>That the best steak you´ve ever had is under 3 dollars and a bottle of good red wine is under 4 is nice.</li>
</ul>
<p> </p>
<p>Anyway, these are just a few things I´ve been marinating over recently. I have 10 days left until the exodus so until that day I plan on working hard and playing harder, enjoying the city as best I can. More on this theme to come shortly&#8230;stay tuned. </p>
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		<title>Droppin’ Some Knowledge, Part 3 &#8211; Musicology</title>
		<link>http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/droppin%e2%80%99-some-knowledge-part-iii-musicology.html</link>
		<comments>http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/droppin%e2%80%99-some-knowledge-part-iii-musicology.html#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 12 Jul 2006 17:34:19 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>adam R</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Droppin´ Some Knowledge]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Argentina]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Buenos Aires]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[music]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[    ¨When I Die I Want you to Play Cumbia¨ - by journalist Cristian Alarcón There are lots of unpleasant ways to have your precious sleep interrupted in the morning, though having “Winds of Change” involuntarily forced upon you, as I did last week, is particularly cruel. In Winds of Change, you’ll recall, quintessentially bad 80’s pop-metal band [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><a class="imagelink" title="musiqueros.jpg" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/musiqueros.jpg" /><a class="imagelink" title="musiqueros.jpg" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/musiqueros.jpg" /><a class="imagelink" title="cumbia.jpg" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/cumbia.jpg"><img id="image112" style="width: 320px; height: 447px" height="447" alt="cumbia.jpg" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/cumbia.jpg" width="320" /></a>   </p>
<p><strong>¨When I Die I Want you to Play Cumbia¨</strong> - by journalist Cristian Alarcón</p>
<p>There are lots of unpleasant ways to have your precious sleep interrupted in the morning, though having “Winds of Change” involuntarily forced upon you, as I did last week, is particularly cruel. In Winds of Change, you’ll recall, quintessentially bad 80’s pop-metal band the Scorpions wail out for a time ¨when the children of tomorrow<br />
dream away,” and do it all over a German accent.  Sex, drugs and social reform?  Good heavy metal should never dare pine for such lofty ideals; mega hair-band Warrant knew this, instead (appropriately) waxing lyrical about “Cherry Pie” and other crude metaphors for sex.  </p>
<p>The perpetrator of this most inhumane offense was none other than my neighbor, who lives one floor down from me in my crumbling 30’s era apartment building.  I’ve never spoken with the guy and I’ve only caught glimpses of him in passing, yet I feel like I know his story.  You see, in Buenos Aires, like most places, there is a fairly well defined social structure based strongly upon music preferences.  This neighbor happens to fall easily into the group known as the “<strong>metaleros</strong>” – the metalheads. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Consider: not only does he blast <em>Monster Ballads</em> whenever the feeling moves him, he also drives a motorcycle – a beat-up, skeletal hunk of metal that he straps down to the lamppost in front of our building each night – and even rocks ass-long hair and a leather jacket to boot.  Thus is the prototypical “metalero;” though my neighbor, who’s in his mid-late 30’s, probably falls on the older side of the clique, having listened to Megadeth back when they were actually cool as opposed to a gawky adolescent now. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The metaleros are far from the only quasi-social group here defined by music taste and style; ones I’m familiar with include: <strong>rappers</strong>, <strong>rollingas</strong>, <strong>chetos</strong>, and the <strong>cumbia villeros</strong>, perhaps the most authentically Argentine of them all.  Considering Buenos Aires is part of Argentina, of course there’s a glaring omission here – the Tangueros, or people into the tango scene.  Because there’s already been so much written on this topic and I’m far from an expert on it anyway, I’m not going to touch on this.  But what I will do is elucidate on some of Argentina’s lesser known scenes.     </p>
<p><span id="more-104"></span></p>
<p>  </p>
<p>Cordoba, Argentina’s 2nd city, sits smack dab in the middle of the country, giving off the vibe of even further isolation from home than Buenos Aires, which is already 6,000 or so kilometers away from it.  So imagine my surprise when, after living there for a month, I show up to a party and see a bunch of dudes sporting Chicago Whitesox hats and XXXL NFL Jerseys as they breakdance to Lil’ Jon.  Not to be left behind, another guy was proudly flashing his gold crowns all night.  While they may be a year behind on what’s hot and what’s not, these guys, known as the <strong>rappers</strong>, can still move.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A lot of things strike out about the rappers, none moreso than the obvious fact that probably none of them understand a single word their idols are saying, save for the odd “bitch” or “fuck.”  Practically raised on the likes of Snoop Dogg and Dr. Dre, even my friends and I sometimes struggle to comprehend the complex patois that makes up the gangsta rapper’s flow; I’ve little doubt to some guy who can barely speak English it might as well be ancient Indian Sanskrit.   </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Even more intriguing, lots of rappers are really into the “skating” scene as well. When they’re not busting a move on the dancefloor – more often than not the living room in an old converted house – they just may be busting one out on the half-pipe.  Hard to imagine some dense southern California skateboarder type going home and putting on anything other than Sum-41 (or anyone else who’s main preoccupation in life isn’t high school angst), but in Cordoba after a day of jumping and grinding apparently nothing helps you unwind like a rousing verse of “Back dat Ass Up.”  </p>
<p> </p>
<div style="text-align: center"><img id="image105" style="width: 350px; height: 262px" height="262" alt="rollinga.bmp" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/rollinga.bmp" width="350" /></div>
<div style="text-align: center">Photo taken from <a href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/wp-admin/www.whatsupba.com" target="_blank">whatsupba.com</a></div>
<p>As fortune would have it I also live in the same apartment building as a bunch of <strong>rollingas</strong>, perhaps Buenos Aires’ most recognizable youth movement.  Dubbed rollingas because of their steadfast allegiance to the famed British band, nary a member would be caught without an oversize tongue stamped on their shirt or patched onto to their backpack.  Other <a href="http://www.fotolog.com/rollings/" target="_blank">trademarks</a> include hair cropped short in the front (often in infamous ¨bowl¨ fashion), a scarf around the neck, and Topper brand shoes, the local cheaper version of Chuck All-Stars. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The rollinga movement is so all-encompassing it defies easy categorization; everyone from working-class kids to disenchanted college students can claim membership in its ranks.  Going through a rollinga phase is a fairly typical experience of growing up, akin to the alternative rock phase of my generation where the likes of Nirvana, Alice in Chains and the Offspring gave us a voice, and a pissed off one at that.  In fact just a few weeks ago one of my students, now a most upstanding professional, recounted his glory days as a rollinga a few years back.   </p>
<p> </p>
<p>While Buenos Aires may have its rebellious anti-establishment proclaiming they Can’t Get No Satisfaction, it certainly has its traditionalists bent on keeping up the status quo too.  Known as the <strong>chetos</strong> (“snobs”), some of the middle and upper classes concentrated in the affluent northern parts of the city roughly parallel the “socs” (as in “social”) from 1950’s movies and books, like <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0086066/" target="_blank"><em>The Outsiders</em></a> and <em>Rebel Without a Cause</em>.  In The Outsiders, you’ll remember, the lower-class black leather jacket-clad “greasers” are always fighting with the Varsity letter-jacketed, T-bird driving socs with names like Buffy and Patsy.   </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Cheto is a much more general classification than rollinga, rapper or metalero and essentially refers to any arrogant social climber, but they too have defining characteristics.  In terms of music, chetos love pop and MTV, often shunning local bands in favor of their imported counterparts. No weekend would be complete without a night out to the club, where 25 peso covers are often the norm.  For many of them shopping is a pastime revered almost to the same degree as soccer, while trips to the gym follow closely at second.  As you can imagine the “bowl cut” is not the haircut of choice amongst this set, who instead prefer just well-coiffed enough do’s and a good clean shave.  </p>
<p><a class="imagelink" title="pibes_chorros_000.jpg" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/pibes_chorros_000.jpg"><img id="image107" style="width: 243px; height: 211px" height="211" alt="pibes_chorros_000.jpg" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/pibes_chorros_000.jpg" width="243" /></a>                        <a class="imagelink" title="cumbiavi2.jpg" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/cumbiavi2.jpg"><img id="image106" height="208" alt="cumbiavi2.jpg" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/cumbiavi2.jpg" width="208" /></a></p>
<p>At the complete opposite end of the spectrum are the <strong>cumbia villeros</strong>.  First, “cumbia” refers to the quintessential Latin American music genre originally from Colombia.  With its tropical, slow-and-steady rhythm it gives off a folksy, native vibe, explaining why it’s probably less popular in unapologetically Eurocentric Argentina than in the rest of Latin America, where it’s largely accepted.  Next, “villera” is an adjective referring to the slums, known in Argentina as “villas miserias” (misery towns) or just “villas” for short.  It’s worth noting here that immigrating Bolivians, Paraguayans and Argentines from the poorer northern provinces make up a considerable percentage of villa dwellers.  Regular cumbia – while varying in style from country to country – is warm, lively and rarely strays from familiar music themes like romance and fiestas.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>In contrast cumbia villera is gloomy, haunting and often downright dirty.  Killing cops, easy girls and drugs are the subject matter in many songs – as is the obligatory ode to a fallen comrade – making it largely analogous to gangsta rap in the U.S.  Though while in the States gangsta rap is enjoyed by all social classes and many of its artists have achieved household-name status even in surburbia, cumbia villera superstars’ celebrity pretty much ends where the villa begins.     </p>
<div style="text-align: center"><img id="image108" style="width: 482px; height: 349px" height="349" alt="10.jpg" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/10.jpg" width="482" /></div>
<div style="text-align: center">You don´t see this in the glossy brochures &#8211; Villa 31, just across from BA´s Retiro bus station. Photo taken from <a href="http://www.hernan.ameijeiras.com/">http://www.hernan.ameijeiras.com/</a>             </p>
<p> </p></div>
<p>Like in the States, in Argentina the debate goes on, questioning whether this type of music is little more than depraved rubbish or is actually the (angry) voice of the disenfranchised.  I’m not at personal liberty to pass judgment, but what I can assert is that cumbia villera, like or not, certainly isn’t going away anytime soon.  In fact on Monday, July 10, there was a front-page article in La Nación – one of Argentina’s most important dailies – reporting that within the past four years the villa population of Buenos Aires <a href="http://buscador.lanacion.com.ar/Nota.asp?nota_id=821963&#038;high=villas" target="_blank">has gone up by 30 %</a>. Until the abject poverty in these cities-within-a-city is effectively addressed, groups like Yerba Brava (“Tough Weed” – use your imagination), Damas Gratis (“Girls for Free”) and my personal favorite, <a href="http://www.muevamueva.com/grupo/lospibeschorros/index.htm" target="_blank">Los Pibes Chorros</a> (“The Robbing Kids”) will undoubtedly have a captive audience. </p>
<p>For more info. on this theme, The Guardian has a good, albeit graphic, article on the movement dated from 2002: <a href="http://arts.guardian.co.uk/fridayreview/story/0,12102,803625,00.html">http://arts.guardian.co.uk/fridayreview/story/0,12102,803625,00.html</a>; also, local journalist Cristian Alarcón, who writes for leftist paper <em>Pagina/12,</em> spent years living in the villa and wrote a book about his experience in 2003, ¨Cuando me Muera Quiero que me Toquen Cumbia.¨   </p>
<p><a class="imagelink" title="foto08.jpg" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/foto08.jpg"><img id="image111" style="width: 350px; height: 242px" height="242" alt="foto08.jpg" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/foto08.jpg" width="350" /></a></p>
<p><strong>Cumbia Villera group Repiola breaks it down&#8230;ya errd</strong><br />
In terms of style, disciples of cumbia villera often synthesize with the rollingas and the rappers.  For example, in the Pibes Chorros song “La Colorada” (the Rude One), the chorus rhymes about a delinquent who never showers and always wears “una remera de los Rolling Stone” (a Rolling Stones t-shirt).  Solid Nike hats pulled over tight or sideways, oversize sports shirts and cornrows all reflect rappers’ influence too.    </p>
<p> </p>
<p>But as much as they may crossbreed with other groups, nothing affects the cumbia villera scene like soccer.  Opportunities are few and far between in the villa, but soccer offers a ticket out, and if you’re good enough, one to superstardom as well.  Right now one of the biggest celebs in the entire country is none other than <a href="http://www.carlitostevez.com.ar/" target="_blank">Carlos Tevez</a>, who plays for the Argentine National squad and has his mug pasted across the city in Nike billboard ads.  From the Fuerte Apache villa in the Buenos Aires province, Tevez is already being alluded to as the next Maradona (who himself came from very humble surroundings) by some.  “Carlitos,” as he’s affectionately known, easily represents the rags-to-riches dream of a boy in the villa, just like ‘Melo does for a boy in West Baltimore.  It’s of little surprise then that soccer jerseys, jackets or any type of apparel are by far the most common gear in any cumbia villera fan’s dress.  </p>
<p>Throughout this entire rambling commentary on music tango was mentioned only once.  Quintessential Argentina it may symbolize, but to easily dismiss the significance of other music on the country would be a huge error.  At least amongst the youth, the old rhythms of their grandparents have been traded for the beatbox and the distortion guitar. Though, as opposed to all of the other aforementioned groups - which all are more or less a local interpretation of an already existing music group or theme - cumbia villera, it could be argued, is the most authentically Argentine, having totally created it´s own unique sub-genre at the source.          </p>
<p> </p>
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		<title>When Soccer Ruled the USA</title>
		<link>http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/when-soccer-ruled-the-usa.html</link>
		<comments>http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/when-soccer-ruled-the-usa.html#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 06 Jul 2006 16:57:39 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>adam R</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Travel]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[soccer]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[World Cup]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[  Taken from ESPN.com Getting a little bit more into the fútbol theme, I´d like to direct your attention to a fantastic article that &#8211; believe it or not &#8211; actually graces the frontpage of America´s pre-eminent on-line sports journal. Soccer on ESPN.com &#8211; fancy that. Though I suppose with every professional sport out of season except for baseball [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><a class="imagelink" title="wahol.bmp" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/wahol.bmp"><img id="image102" style="width: 317px; height: 429px" height="429" alt="wahol.bmp" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/07/wahol.bmp" width="317" /></a> </p>
<p><strong>Taken from ESPN.com</strong></p>
<p>Getting a little bit more into the fútbol theme, I´d like to direct your attention to a fantastic article that &#8211; believe it or not &#8211; actually graces the frontpage of America´s pre-eminent on-line sports journal. Soccer on ESPN.com &#8211; fancy that. Though I suppose with every professional sport out of season except for baseball they needed something to fill the space.  At any rate this a piece about how a bunch of worldwide soccer legends came to NYC in the 70´s and, for a time, made the sport glamorous. Known as the <em>Cosmos</em>, they hobknobbed with Andy Warhol and Cher, to name just a few.  At the forefront of it all was the Brazilian ultrasuperstar Pelé, who to this day is widely considered the best soccer player of all time, though considering the players´ ¨second locker room¨ was Studio 54, I´ve little doubt <a href="http://canf.org/2004/1in/noticias-de-cuba/2004-ago-20-Mexican-newspaper-publishes-photos-of-Maradona.htm">Maradona</a> would have fit in just fine, were he around to partake in all off-the field festivities.</p>
<p>Before diving in, two other points:</p>
<ul>
<li>If Italy wins the World Cup (they play France in the finals), the only team not to have lost to them would be the US. Ain´t that something. I don´t particularly care for either team, but I do think if Italy cared as much about soccer as they do about <a href="http://www.heraldsun.news.com.au/common/story_page/0,5478,19678164%255E11088,00.html" target="_blank">their hair</a> they´re bound to take the title.</li>
<li>I´m actually a bit surprised at how calm Buenos Aires was after the loss.  Nothing (important) got smashed, and as far as I could tell people were doing OK, especially after they stopped crying.  Even the bus drivers &#8211; the local equivalent to the lumberjack, in terms of symbolic machismo - let the tears flow.</li>
</ul>
<p><a href="http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/eticket/story?page=cosmos" target="_blank"><strong>When Soccer Ruled the USA</strong></a>.   </p>
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		<title>The World Cup</title>
		<link>http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/the-world-cup.html</link>
		<comments>http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/the-world-cup.html#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 28 Jun 2006 16:05:08 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>adam R</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Travel]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Argentina]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Buenos Aires]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[soccer]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[World Cup]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[For those who haven&#8217;t been keeping up with the World Cup and Americans, Argentina beat Mexico 2-1 yesterday with a dramatic goal in overtime, advancing to the quarterfinals. Though the match was too close for comfort, Mexico playing so well turned out to be a blessing in disguise. You see, the more dramatic a game [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div style="text-align: center"><img id="image93" style="width: 450px; height: 330px" height="330" alt="BA 005 (Small).jpg" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/06/BA%20005%20(Small).jpg" width="450" /></div>
<p>For those who haven&#8217;t been keeping up with the World Cup and Americans, Argentina beat Mexico 2-1 yesterday with a dramatic goal in overtime, advancing to the quarterfinals. Though the match was too close for comfort, Mexico playing so well turned out to be a blessing in disguise. You see, the more dramatic a game is, the more excited people get, and the more excited people get, the greater the chance of interesting/dangerous things happening (like shooting flares in the street and blocking traffic to dance), so I really can&#8217;t complain.</p>
<p>Of course, in Latin America <em>fútbol</em> is not to be taken likely &#8211; after the 1969 World Cup match between Honduras and El Salvador hundreds of people died, sparking what would be known as the &#8220;<a href="http://www.country-data.com/cgi-bin/query/r-4211.html" target="_blank">Football War</a>,&#8221; which included military airstrikes. And I thought Michigan &#8211; OSU was intense.</p>
<p><span id="more-91"></span></p>
<p>After a long night out on the town Friday night I wasn&#8217;t so keen on the prospect of leaving the couch to watch the game, and my roommate, Nico, didn&#8217;t want to leave either. I watched all 3 of Argentina&#8217;s qualifying matches in bars or at work (when I went to class at a multinational corporation downtown last Friday it was during a match; the entire company shuts down and everyone from the secretary to the CEO heads up to the conference room on the last floor to watch the game on a projector screen), because the best way to feel the vibe, I think, is to watch the game with the locals. At half-time with the game tied 1-1, Nico looks at me and says, matter-of-factly, &#8220;this isn&#8217;t working -I need Argentine blood.&#8221; Ostensibly, my unworthy Yankee heritage just isn&#8217;t helping Argentina&#8217;s chances, nor his enjoyment of the match. So at half-time we zip through the city &#8211; which is deserted now at 5 on a Saturday afternoon, stop to pick up his girlfriend in Recoleta, and arrive downtown in record time.</p>
<p>We went to a hostel owned by his friend because 1) it had a big screen and 2) there were a bunch of other Argentines there to share in the &#8220;blood solidarity&#8221; that Nico so craved. The match was an experience, with &#8220;hijo de puta!&#8221; being dropped with unprecedented frequency, but even better was after the match when we walked 3 blocks away to the Obelisco, BA&#8217;s most famous landmark, right in the center of the city, where thousands of people were celebrating. Below are some pics from the hostel and from the Obelisco&#8230;I think it should convey the vibe fairly well. I don&#8217;t dare imagine what will happen if Argentina wins it all.</p>
<p>Argentina plays Germany on Friday at 12 PM Buenos Aires time (11 am US Eastern Standard time), and people here are very, very nervous. Rightfully so &#8211; aside from the fact that the game&#8217;s in Berlin, the German squad has been looking pretty unbeatable. Last world Cup Germany came in second place, losing to mega-power Brazil. Which brings up another good point: potentially, every ensuing stage of the World Cup could pit Argentina against some sort of political foe. Can&#8217;t you guys play nice?</p>
<ol>
</ol>
<ol>
</ol>
<ol>
<li><em>Friday.</em> Argentina vs. Germany. As the owner of the internet café next door just mentioned to me when I walked in (I&#8217;m probably his best customer by now so he&#8217;s always more than happy to chat me up), the head of the International Monetary Fund, under Argentina&#8217;s grand debt default &#8211; the largest in history at over <a href="http://www.globalexchange.org/campaigns/wbimf/925.html" target="_blank">$100 <strong>billlllllllion</strong> dollars</a> &#8211; was a German, Horst Köhler. Many Argentines and the government blame the IMF for being primarily responsible for the country&#8217;s bankruptcy in 2001, so Köhler is a pretty hated guy. After the obvious anti-US propaganda spray-painted throughout the city, anti-IMF graffiti runs a close second. (Getting off track for a second, I actually just finished up a great book on recent Argentine history, from the 90&#8242;s onward, that describes its economic implosion pretty well. It&#8217;s written by Washington Post reporter Paul Blustein, so if you&#8217;re keen on this subject I recommend you check out the book, <a href="http://search.barnesandnoble.com/booksearch/isbnInquiry.asp?z=y&#038;isbn=1586483811&#038;itm=1" target="_blank">And the Money Kept Rolling In (and Out)</a>. Be forewarned though: sometimes it feels like you need a doctorate in econ to understand just what he&#8217;s talking about).
<p /></li>
<li><em>July 4</em>. Argentina vs. England. I won&#8217;t dwell on this for long because it&#8217;s an especially sensitive topic in these parts, but in 1982 Argentina and England fought a war over the Falklands (&#8220;Malvinas&#8221; in Spanish ), a group of tiny islands in the south Atlantic where sheep outnumber humans. Argentina invaded, or arrived to &#8220;liberate&#8221; the islands from British rule, depending on who you ask. At the time, if you&#8217;ll recall from previous posts, Argentina was being ruled by a dictator, so some see the invasion as a last-ditch effort to conjure up support for his failing regime&#8230;though some say the same thing, to a lesser extent, about Britian &#8211; Margaret Thatcher&#8217;s popularity was plummeting so she sent a fully-equipped battleship 2,000 miles away to a sheep&#8217;s paradise for the same reasons. At any rate, what this has translated to is perhaps the biggest political rivalry in all of soccer. Again, I&#8217;m American, so I apologize in advance to any soccer historians who beg to differ on this. The important thing is that Argentina defeated England in 1986, almost entirely by the efforts of Argentine god (soccer, and otherwise) Diego Maradona, whose (in)famous first goal of the game, the &#8220;<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hand_of_God_goal" target="_blank">Mano de Dios</a>&#8221; is one of the most controversial moments in World Cup history.
<p /></li>
<li><em>July 9</em>. Argentina vs. Brazil. This isn&#8217;t so important for political reasons, but Brazil and Argentina have a love-hate relationship like no other. <strong>Hate</strong> because Argentines say Maradona is the best soccer player of all-time, while Brazilians say it&#8217;s a no-brainer, Pelé is. Also, each claims to be the rightful king of South American soccer, so their games are no trifling matter as they decide who will have bragging rights for the following year. <strong>Love</strong> because the Argentines think the Brazilians play amazing, fun soccer, and have huge respect for their superstars like Ronaldhino, who sells alot of jerseys here considering he plays for the sworn enemy.
<p /></li>
</ol>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>So that&#8217;s it. You can feel something in the air here &#8211; it&#8217;s like there&#8217;s this sort of tension that just won&#8217;t let people relax. At any rate, Va-mos Va-mos, Argentina!</p>
<p><a class="imagelink" title="BA 001 (Small).jpg" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/06/BA%20001%20(Small).jpg"><img id="image92" style="width: 474px; height: 319px" height="319" alt="BA 001 (Small).jpg" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/06/BA%20001%20(Small).jpg" width="474" /></a></p>
<p><img id="image94" style="width: 476px; height: 316px" height="316" alt="BA 008 (Small).jpg" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/06/BA%20008%20(Small).jpg" width="476" /></p>
<p><img id="image96" style="width: 478px; height: 304px" height="304" alt="BA 010 (Small).jpg" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/06/BA%20010%20(Small).jpg" width="478" /></p>
<p><strong>They don&#8217;t do this in the EEUU</strong></p>
<p><a class="imagelink" title="BA 012 (Small).jpg" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/06/BA%20012%20(Small).jpg"><img id="image97" height="359" alt="BA 012 (Small).jpg" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/06/BA%20012%20(Small).jpg" width="296" /></a></p>
<p><a class="imagelink" title="BA 013 (Small).jpg" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/06/BA%20013%20(Small).jpg"><img id="image98" style="width: 308px; height: 400px" height="400" alt="BA 013 (Small).jpg" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/06/BA%20013%20(Small).jpg" width="308" /></a></p>
<p><strong>Damn I&#8217;m getting fat&#8230;just too much beef to resist</strong></p>
<p><a class="imagelink" title="Imagen 054 (Small)1.jpg" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/06/Imagen%20054%20(Small)1.jpg"><img id="image99" style="width: 486px; height: 354px" height="354" alt="Imagen 054 (Small)1.jpg" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/06/Imagen%20054%20(Small)1.jpg" width="486" /></a></p>
<p><strong>The friendly neighborhood Irish pub, showing Argentina vs. Holland</strong></p>
<p><a class="imagelink" title="BA 020 (Small).jpg" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/06/BA%20020%20(Small).jpg"><img id="image101" height="386" alt="BA 020 (Small).jpg" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/vivaBarca/files/2006/06/BA%20020%20(Small).jpg" width="299" /></a></p>
<p><strong>El Superhincha</strong></p>
<p>If you´ve made this far, check out this article, which has the great distinction of being listed in the ¨Oddly Enough¨ news section of Reuters: <a href="http://go.reuters.com/newsArticle.jhtml?type=oddlyEnoughNews&#038;storyID=12687409&#038;src=rss/oddlyEnoughNews" target="_blank"><strong>Argentine Tax Man Hits Soccer Fans Where it Hurts</strong></a></p>
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