Monday morning Natalie and I were standing in the elevator struggling with the lock when suddenly her keys slipped from her hands. We stared at each other in disbelief as we listened to them plummet eight floors down the elevator shaft. Of course we were running late and decided to rescue them later.
Our Madre had drawn us a map where to catch the
colectivo (city bus) to take it to campus. It picked us up and we sat patiently as the bus took us in the complete opposite direction. Hoping it would turn around at some point we waited almost twenty minutes before finally giving up and getting off.
When we got home that afternoon Natalie unsuccessfully attempted to fish her keys out from the elevator shaft with a bent wire hanger. She admitted defeat and confessed to our Madre what had happened. Ana laughed as she heard Natalie reluctantly admit she had dropped the keys down the elevator and told us our doorman, Alfonzo, could get them for us.
That’s when our Madre told us, “You’re not in the United States anymore. Argentina is a third world country.” Although I would argue a country with Wi-Fi at every café is probably not third world, it can definitely be a difficult city at times.
For starters I have been in this country for three months and still haven’t completely figured out the public transportation. Throughout the city there are extensive lines of
colectivos, the
subte (subway), trains, and taxis when all else fails. Literally hundreds of
colectivos run the streets 24 hours a day daring any car to compete for space on the road. To figure out which
colectivo you need to take there’s a guide of streets and grids where you match bus numbers. But for every bus number there are numerous different variations that take similar paths, but never quite the same. To say the least I get lost. A lot.
Then there is not only the language barrier, but the
porteño language barrier. People from Buenos Aires, or
porteños, speak
castellano, a completely different form of Spanish than anywhere else in South America. Instead of
tu they use a varied form,
vos. To add to this their accent sounds more Italian than South American and their pronunciation is completely off. When I first arrived I couldn’t understand a thing. I was worried I had lost all of my Spanish after not taking classes for almost four years. Turns out it wasn’t just my bad Spanish.
Although this city is difficult at times, I absolutely love it. The most important thing to understand about Buenos Aires is that a
porteño is completely different than anyone else in Argentina. Even if you talk to someone from Rosario or Cordoba or Mendoza they’ll tell you how stuck up
porteños are. The more I experience it though the more I realize they’re not stuck up, just incredibly proud.
