Buenos Aires Story #1

One of the bigger attractions of Buenos Aires (BA) are the various weekend ferias (arts and crafts markets), which can range from small to large, depending on the neighborhood. One of the biggest, and most famous, is the one in San Telmo. It is geared more to tourists and is mostly tango and antique oriented. It is held on Sunday. On our first trip to BA 2 years ago, we didn’t get to go because I went to futbol (soccer) matches on the 2 Sundays we were there (C shopped on one; the other she also went to the soccer match with me). The feria spreads from the main square in San Telmo outwards, mainly going down the major E-W street of the district. This is the “official” feria, with booths and what looks like permits from the city. Once you get to the intersection of the main E-W street and the main N-S street, the “unofficial” feria starts – mainly young people with blankets on the ground with the stuff they are selling. It was packed (people as far as you could see) and it got rather warm in the afternoon – at least warm enough for us to stop in at a local heladeria (ice cream shop). Even though C and I have mastered the ordering technique, it is still obvious to all that we aren’t Argentine. The following is the exchange we had with the counter people as they were making our cones:

Counter person #1: “Ah, you are American, yes?”
Me: “Yes, we are.”
Counter person #1: “Where are you from?”
Me: “Texas, Dallas.”
Counter person #1: “Oh, Texas….George Bush. I don’t like George Bush.”
Counter person #2: “Me either. I don’t like him.”
Me: “Well, that’s OK. I don’t like him much either.”
C: “Many Americans don’t like him. But we are having elections next year and he will not
be President any longer, so that will make those who don’t like him happy.”
Counter person #1: “Who will be the new President?”
C: “We don’t know – it’s too soon to tell. We don’t even know who our choices will be.”
Me: “Thank you – gracias.”
Counter person #1: “Good day – enjoy your time here in Argentina.”

As C and I walk out of the shop, she comments that my cone has twice as much ice cream than hers. I hadn’t really noticed and look and sure enough, mine is huge. I ask C why and she laughs and says it was because I told the girl that I didn’t like George Bush. And she was probably right. As we walk down the street looking at the booths and what they are selling, I notice a booth selling t-shirts. They have the usual blue and white striped Argentina shirt (modeled after the soccer jersey of the national team), the “Che” shirt and then I notice another. It says…..”KILL BUSH” with a drawing of GWB. I was shocked. I mean, that is pretty extreme. I thought about buying one, not to wear or to condone the message, but to have. But then, I worried about the possibilities if it was seen by US Custom agents upon our return. We did take a picture of it (as proof of its existence). I wanted to ask the seller how many she sells, but I was afraid of the answer. You see anti-GWB graffiti all over the place. To say that he is not well liked down there is an vast understatement