Wiphalas are raised high as the march of the Otro Bicentenario arrives at the Argentine National Congress on May 24, 2011

On the 24^th of May 2010 the 16 lane avenue 9 de Julio was teeming with boisterous manifestations of national pride as hundreds of thousands of Argentines celebrated the Bicentennial of the May Revolutions. Meanwhile, 6 city blocks up the Avenida de Mayo, on the far side of the Plaza del Congreso, the Argentine flag was replaced by the vibrant rainbow colors of the wiphala and a crowd of hundreds rather than thousands were gathered in a counter celebration: The Other Bicentennial. I found myself in the middle of this plaza surrounded by protest banners and artisans’ stalls asking myself: ‘Where am I and how did I get here?”

I was about a month into a folk singing workshop at the University of Buenos Aires school of Philosophy and Letters when my friend and teacher Santiago invited me to sing on the stage of the Other Bicenntenial. Having a curious, anthropological mind, I enthusiastically agreed and took in the sights and sounds of the event with fascination. Banners spoke of the 33,000 people that had been disappeared under the dictatorship, an indigenous woman chained herself up in heavy cast-iron chains as she shouted into her megaphone about the situation of the Wichi peoples in the northern region of Chaco, and the general tone of the event spoke to why Argentina’s two hundred year history might not be something worth celebrating just yet.

Singing Coplas on the Stage of the Other Bicentennial

After I sang, I was informed that there was to be a march and I decided to stay. It was then that I was introduced to the sikus, the Andean panflute, and heard, for the first time, “Cinco Siglos,” the protest anthem of the ubran sikuri in Buenos Aires. In that moment, as an outsider, I followed the march, fascinated by the jubilance of the protest, the sense of community, and above all the music. As the march came to a close, my friend and future bandmate Santiago, came to me and asked, “So, what did you think?”

All I could muster in response was an awed-stare and a “Wow!” Since I had returned to Buenos Aires, where I had first lived as a study abroad student in 2007, a few short months before, as a Fulbright Fellow intending to study the relationship between opera and Argentine national identity, I had never experienced anything like the vibrant expression of resistance and solidarity in which I had just participated.

Sikuris playing sikus in the march

The march ended and the participants embraced, laughed and conversed with one another, clearly demonstrating a much deeper connection than this one moment, connection greater than this one cause. In the excitement of the moment I couldn’t find the words in English or Spanish to express my fascination to Santiago, who, seemingly disappointed, turned and said to me, “I just wish more members of my band had come.” Those words would alter the course of my time here in Argentina.

A week later I found my self standing at the doorstep of a massive industrial factory at the heart of Almagro, a neighborhood at the geographic center of the city of Buenos Aires, waiting for Santiago to arrive and take me to my first rehearsal with the Banda de Sikuris de IMPA. The Fabrica IMPA (Industrias Metelurgicas y Plasticas Argentinas) is one of the approximately 200 factories and companies whose workers, faced with the impending loss of their jobs at the hands of intentional corporate mismanagement and bankruptcy during the crisis of 1999-2001, took over their respective facilities and began operating as workers cooperatives. The movement, known as the Recuperated Factories movement, maintains that the right to work is paramount above the corporate right to profit and property. As a method of preventing police eviction, many factories, IMPA among the first, opened cultural centers offering popular education workshops that kept the factory occupied during non-working hours. It was there, in 2000, the Band of Sikuris de IMPA was founded and there that they continue to rehearse today.

Rehearsing in the patio in IMPA

When Santi arrived he accompanied me to the second floor patio of the massive factory where I was introduced to the guias (guides), handed an instrument and began what would become the most interesting journey of my life. A journey that has taken me from the most rural parts of northern Argentina, to the bustling Santiago de Chile. One that allowed me to participate in the Fiesta de la Candelaria, one of Peru’s largest celebrations of Folklore. And, most importantly, one that has shed an entirely new light on the idea of Buenos Aires as the “Paris of Latin America”.  As a part of La Vida Idealist, I will be sharing some of these experiences with you all, talking about the many sites and, above all, sounds that are seldom experienced by the average tourist or English speaking ex-pat, and hopefully giving some attention to the social causes in which I have been involved for the past year and a half.

Lauren Deal is currently a Fulbright Scholar and Program Assistant at Sustainable Horizon. To hear more about her experiences, check out her blog.

It is a cold, overcast morning when we begin our day in Recreo. First on our list is Monica, the owner of a local kiosk. We loudly clap our hands outside of her adobe colored house and wait (in this part of Argentina, it is a cultural norm to clap your hands outside of the house of a stranger instead of knocking directly on the door). My brigade partner, Nicole, and I are both slightly nervous. We hope that the Monica will let us into her home despite our muddy shoes and the unannounced nature of our visit. Sure enough, Monica takes pity on us and invites us in to her home. Nicole begins to brief Monica on the new payment system and check her contact details while I shuffle papers and smile. Soon it’s picture frame time. I do a comical “Taaa-daaa” to cover up the uselessness of the gift, but there is no need. Monica lets a small grin unfold upon her face and her eyes soften with pride. She graciously thanks us for the gift and then calls to her son to come and see what we have brought. I am relieved and at the same time, surprised. This situation will play itself out several more times over the next two days, with families crying, getting goose bumps and beaming with confidence. All this because of a wooden picture frame?

As with most things in life, it is not about the picture frame itself, but what it represents. It is a giant gold star.  Families immediately place the picture frame amongst the family photos prominently displayed in their living rooms. The picture frame shows everyone who enters the home that this family is on the path to financial independence. This is not an easy task, especially in Argentina, where the unofficial inflation rate hovers around 25%, and these families are making significant sacrifices to fulfill their loan obligations. Their emotional reactions make it obvious just how much it means to these families to own their own home.

After two days of carefully balancing our steps on the muddy roads, navigating with homemade maps and local landmarks, we have reached all the families on our list. It has been a great opportunity to meet the families, reemphasize why I am volunteering and perhaps most importantly, to remind myself to never underestimate the power of pride.

Megan Kaseburg is currently the International Volunteer Coordinator with Habitat for Humanity Argentina. To hear more about her experiences, check out her blog.

Volunteers at a Build

One organization I’ve been hearing about is Un Techo Para Mi Pais.  Their overall aim is to eliminate poverty in Latin America, specifically by focusing on the eradication of slum housing settlements and homelessness.  Some of what they do is very similar to Habitat for Humanity: hosting builds in which volunteers construct emergency housing.  Through a process of surveys in neighborhoods with large poor populations, the organization determines the areas most in need.  During their ‘construcciones masivas,’ a large number of volunteers get together for a specific amount of time (like a weekend) to complete an assigned building project.  At times Un Techo Para Mi Pais uses ‘construcciones con familias’ in which they link families up with beneficiary families for construction.

But UTPMP’s efforts don’t stop with the completion of the houses.  Simultaneous with the building efforts, volunteers work to unify the community and empower it’s residents through a ‘Mesa de Trabajo,’ a community committee focused on combating local issues.  These issues could be anything from installing lights to getting sexual education classes to organizing a local futbol tournament, all in the name of serving the needs of the neighborhood.

With organizations in 19 countries, UTPMP has a widespread presence in Latin America.  But the final stage of their neighborhood involvement has only been reaching in Chile, where the organization began.  Once the ‘Mesa de Trabajo’ is well established, including elected officials and a system of voting rotation, UTPMP sends in a combination of paid employees to develop definitive housing in place of the temporary.  Together with these architects, engineers, legal advisors, and other employees, the neighbors can help determine what will suit their community best.

One of the best things about Un Techo Para Mi Pais?  It’s found throughout Latin America and often needs volunteers for just a weekend—an easy way to get involved in helping communities.

Becca Mondshein recently finished her time as a student with NYU Experience Buenos Aires. For more about her experiences in  Argentina, check out her blog.

La Casa Rosada in Buenos Aires

I’ve been in Argentina long enough to run through my whole supply of clean underwear. In this time, I’ve formed some strange impressions. Buenos Aires is a city full of beautiful trees. No one picks up the caca de perros. And they really, really like their steak and beets.

My adjustment, mind you, is not average. Of the last six months, I’ve spent four living in Shanghai and one traveling Southeast Asia. My two weeks in the United States was more like a brief stop-over than adjustment period. So here I am, reintroducing myself to Western life in a South American city and trying to get the Chinese language out of my head.

Not that everything is so different here. In Shanghai and Buenos Aires, people drive like they have a death wish. I can buy fresh fruit on every other corner, though it was oranges in China and huge, juicy peaches here. And the man behind the counter of my local convenience store still finds my difficulty with local currency a source of mirth.

But like anything else, practice makes perfect. I find the more time I spend living out of a suitcase, the more comfortable I feel wherever I go. Last week I stopped at my neighborhood chino, a type of small, independent supermarket generally owned by an Asian family. She handed me my change, and to my surprise I blurted out “Xiexie.” She smiled and replied “muy bien.” In some strange, mixed up way, I felt perfectly at home.

Becca Mondshein is currently a student with NYU Experience Buenos Aires. For more about her experiences, check out her blog.

Since my last post I’ve been kind of busy.

I lived in a hostel, had my passport stolen, made 20 new friends from around the world, got robbed by transvestites, chased transvestites and recovered stolen property, went to Cancun, moved into an apartment with an Argentine, became addicted to Mate, had a traditional Christmas asado in a small Argentine town, and learned about seven words that no Spanish speaker outside of Buenos Aires would understand. Yeah I know my life has been a quilombo.

I spent Christmas and New Years with my roommate Leandro in his hometown Chivilcoy.

Chivilcoy is a beautiful farming town in the north of the Buenos Aires Province inhabited by about 65,000 people.

After living in Buenos Aires for three months I forgot how amazing it was to be in a place surrounded by trees and green things. The air is fresher, the people calmer, and everything smells so much nicer.

Christmas in Argentina is muy tranquilo. It pretty much consists of a relaxing dinner with family and a few presents exchanged afterward.

It was a nice change of pace compared to the consumerism orgy that is Christmas in the States. At midnight we all toasted with champagne and went outside to watch as fireworks exploded overhead in all directions.

A week later I was lucky enough to be invited back to Chivilcoy t0 celebrate New Years with Leandro and his family.

New Years was pretty much the same as Christmas, just with more family and friends, more fireworks, and much more champagne.

I finally realized that I was immersed in Argentine culture when I wasn’t surprised that at 5 a.m. both 85-year-old grandmas were still up drinking champagne, and partying with all us youngins.

But hey enough of me bragging about all the hotties I party with. Until next week, keep it classy, and if you’re ever approached by transvestites outside of WET bar at 6:30 AM, don’t think, just run.

The people: Argentines are some of the warmest people I have ever met. Whether you are lost on the street, confused about the subway, or even need a place to sleep I have found most of the people in Buenos Aires to be helpful, accommodating, and very friendly. I think that the reputation of porteños being stuck up is wrongly deserved and misrepresents some really amazing people.

The food: If you like steak, empanadas, and sweet things there is no better place to live in the world than Buenos Aires. The best part is that its all dirt cheap. Most people from the States can’t imagine getting a pound of rib eye for under ten dollars. Here you get it with eight side dishes and a bottle of wine.

The Bad

Diaper pants

Petty crime: While most big cities have problems with crime, I think that the occurrence of theft in BA is unusually high. In the past month I know three friends who have either been pick-pocketed on the subway or someone attempted to do so. When on the subway or bus always keep your bag in front of you, and keep all of your valuables in tight pockets.

Dog poop and garbage: For some reason most people refuse to pick up after their dog in Buenos Aires resulting in stinky landmines all over the sidewalk. Be sure to keep one eye on the ground whenever walking the streets of BA. Another problem here is that there is no infrastructure for waste disposal. In the U.S. we take things like dumpsters and trash cans for granted, but in BA they are almost nonexistent. Most of the time, bags of overflowing trash are put on the street for pickup.

The Ugly

Mullets: The 80’s are alive and well in Buenos Aires. There are tons of people rollerblading in the parks, punk rock clubs are abundant, and 80’s synthesizer pop blares out of black and yellow taxis. While I enjoy these 80’s throwbacks, the mullets I have seen here can only be described as gloriously horrifying.

Diaper pants: A picture is worth 1,000 words.

Noah Sidman-Gale just recently moved from California to Buenos Aires and is volunteering at El Sol de San Telmo newspaper.

This past week, crowded subway rides to and from San Telmo coupled with bipolar weather was more than enough inspiration for my girlfriend Erin and I to get out of the city. On the recommendation of a friend we decided to take the ferry to Colonia del Sacramento, Uruguay for the day.

Colonia is a small beach town of about 20,000 people on the Rio de la Plata. To get there from Buenos Aires, hop on the Buquebus ferry and you will be there in 50 minutes flat. Colonia is a tiny town with a ton of character, so to get the most out of your time there be sure to rent a form of transportation when you get off the ferry. Erin and I decided to get bicycles, which only cost $10 each for the entire day. You can also rent motor scooters and golf carts, but they are a little bit more expensive and we wanted to get some exercise on the bikes. On our bicycles we were able to ride down the entire four-mile long coastline at our leisure and stop at the deserted beaches whenever we pleased.

For lunch we headed into the Barrio Historico and explored it’s 17th century cobblestone streets. It is a truly beautiful neighborhood, and was named a World Heritage Site by UNESCO. While eating lunch outside on the street, Erin was surprised by a Labrador that decided to come and lay down next to her feet. We looked for an owner, but no one seemed to be looking after our new lunch guest. I asked the waiter about the dog, and he told me that there are over 500 homeless dogs that live in Colonia and that they are all really happy. I feel like this is unheard of in the U.S., but it turned out to be a lot of fun to be approached by random dogs during lunch and on the beach. They were all very friendly and really just wanted some attention. These street pups were truly man’s best friend.

If you are in Buenos Aires and want to escape the city I highly recommend doing a day trip to Colonia. I guarantee that you will leave with a smile, some great pictures, a tan, and maybe even a new puppy.

For more on Buenos Aires, check out posts by Jon Brandt and Curtis Fox. For more on Uruguay, read up on Flora Lindsey-Herrara’s insights and adventures in Montevideo and beyond.

The upcoming issue of El Sol De San Telmo is about understanding “public space” in San Telmo. “Public space” includes many issues from taking responsibility for dog poop on the sidewalk to graffiti on the side of buildings to discussing the creation of public forums that help people communicate with the government. My job is to interview the residents of San Telmo and get their opinion on all these aspects of “public space.”

Talking to a stranger on the street about political issues if pretty scary, especially in another language. I was shot down during my first few embarrassing attempts. Luckily, I found a perfect solution. What follows is a foolproof way to start a conversation with anyone in a foreign language.

Step one: Go to a bar or café and order a drink. Be friendly to your waiter and learn his or her name (Everyone loves the sound of their name, so when you ask your question later you must remember this).

Step two: When your waiter brings you the check, ask him or her if they have a minute to give their opinion on something. Ask your question (using their name) and let them talk for as long as they please.

Step three: Ask anyone the question, because by talking to the waiter and knowing his name ,you have proved yourself. Now everyone should be willing to talk to you.

I hope this helps you meet people and make friends during your travels. ¡Buena suerte!

Noah Sidman-Gale just recently moved from California to Buenos Aires and is volunteering at El Sol de San Telmo newspaper. For more on speaking Spanish with locals, check out “Do I Even Speak Spanish?” by Sebastian Kindsvater.

El Sol de San Telmo is a nonprofit newspaper that is published every two months. It is run by a small group of people who execute everything from writing stories to discovering advertisers. The paper’s goal is to celebrate the neighborhood of San Telmo and create an open forum and dialogue for the community. As I leafed through the pages I knew one thing for sure — I was going to be spending a lot of time in San Telmo. If I could make it there, that is.

San Telmo is one of the most colorful neighborhoods in Buenos Aires. Historically, it was Buenos Aires’s first industrial area that eventually became inhabited by the well-to-do. However, in 1871 a yellow fever epidemic swept through Buenos Aires and the rich of San Telmo moved north to Recoleta, Palermo, and Belgrano.

Today artists, poets, young travelers, and working class families inhabit San Telmo. Its historic cobblestone streets lead to antique shops, boutique bookstores, and tasty local bakeries. San Telmo is perhaps best known for its local antiques fair every Sunday that attracts tourists and locals alike. I mean seriously, who can say no to a free tango show, delicious food, and some marvelous antiques?

As I took the bus from my Recoleta apartment to San Telmo, I was engrossed by Buenos Aire’s amazing architecture and the everyday hustle and bustle on the street. I was so distracted by the city’s magic that I missed my bus stop and was stranded about 20 blocks from where I was supposed to meet the director of El Sol de San Telmo. I was scared, mad, anxious, and embarrassed. The only thing I could do was walk.

Tune in next week to find out if I made it to my meeting, or decided to spend the day tango dancing with a stranger named Bob.

Noah Sidman-Gale most recently moved to Argentina from California. For more on Buenos Aires, check out posts by Jon Brandt.