Travel Blogs

Travel and the Financial Crisis: What Argentines Have Taught Us About Survival

Here I sit in the patio of a café in Buenos Aires’s small but vibrant Chinatown, dunking a biscotti into a cup of espresso, an indulgence enjoyed underneath the simple pleasure of a tree’s leafy shade. Life is good. The smells of cocina asiatica waft through the air, and the Spainese mix the cooks speak drifts out through the window. It is hot, hot-hot-hot, but the waiter has brought me two glasses of sparkling water and an extra biscotti as a treat to beat the heat. And it’s working.

At my feet lay the shopping bags holding my boyfriend Nick’s Christmas present: spicy curry powder, dried basil, ground paprika, whole wheat flour, chocolate, home-made granola, and micro-brewed beer. So much less than I would like to give him—our careers here as English teachers do not leave us flush with cash.

But I am lucky—Nick is not the material type. He doesn’t flinch at the things we have been doing to save money, such as not taking taxis, cooking all of our meals, and splitting bottles of wine on our terrace rather than at the bar. He doesn’t even flinch at the most ridiculous peso-pinching endeavors we have taken to, such as sharing a pillow, washing our clothes in the bathtub rather than at the laundromat, or spending a total of five hours commuting in one day in order to chase down any class that we can teach.

But the one thing Nick values materially is good, home-cooked food. Nick should be a chef. He not only loves food, but loves creating it, putting together combinations of curries, cumin, and turmeric that will make everyone who tastes it—including the chef himself—simultaneously sweat profusely and eat as though his or her life depended on it. But lately, with a squeezed purse, we have not felt at ease buying such culinary extravagances at the supermercados here. And I have seen Nick wilt a little along with his palate. So perhaps this petite present de Navidad will mean more than its modest monetary value.

Without a doubt the world is suffering, but fragile economies like Argentina’s have begun to spin out of control.

I think about how much our mindsets have changed. When we arrived in Argentina back in August, Nick and I imagined that we would be spending Christmas in Patagonia, drinking wine at a hostel on Lake Nahuel Huapi, enjoying a scenic vacation after working hard for four months. Such a mindset seems silly now after experiencing an Argentina deep in the grips of its own financial crisis and reeling further from the shock of a global financial crisis. Without a doubt the world is suffering, but fragile economies like Argentina’s have begun to spin out of control.

For us, hard economic times mean that fewer people are willing to invest in an extracurricular, even a luxury, such as learning English. Our work now is very much week-to-week. We run around the city trying to procure assignments at whichever language institutes we can find, but sometimes it is out of our control. It can be tiring, and it is always scary.

Through this change in life, we have realized that much of what we considered necessities while living last year in Washington, DC is superfluous to most. We lived primarily paycheck-to-paycheck due to the cost of living, but we never wanted for anything. Things like buying plane tickets home to the Midwest and buying nice gifts for family and friends over the holidays were never an issue. We went out to bars every weekend night, and occasionally during the week. We went to concerts at the 930 Club, wine tastings during embassy week, and even performances at the Kennedy Center once in a blue moon. True, we never took cabs, rarely ate out, and went clothes shopping maybe twice over the course of a year. But all of our priorities could be paid for…And we certainly never panicked.

For Americans, until quite recently, these unstable, unpredictable finances have been largely unheard of since the Great Depression.

For Americans, until quite recently, these unstable, unpredictable finances have been largely unheard of since the Great Depression. But for Argentines, they have grown resigned to a life filled with unpredictability and instability. In the past thirty years alone, Argentines have experienced four financial crises and a brutal military dictatorship. It is a different world, one in which citizens have had to arm themselves against an uncertain future, and have become intensely self-reliant because of it. Of course Argentines fear for their future, and do all they can to protect themselves against further instability, taking such measures as seeking out European and American residency and citizenship, working for American companies, selling their pesos for dollars or Euros. But such dizzying economic and political shockwaves have become the norm to Argentina, and the culture seems to accept this reality.

But despite the challenge, floating atop the struggle is the mantra, “make like a good Argentine and survive.” And survive they do. Resiliently. It is these resilient survivors that have shown us the other Argentina, the one that no guidebook could portray. These people have changed our lives, taught us how to confront challenge and still be grateful, taught us how to trust in an untrustworthy society, taught us to appreciate all we are blessed with, taught us that relationships are more valuable than any and all things material. These people—who have every reason to be bitter, untrusting, and angry—have opened their hearts and their homes for us extranjeros to whom they owe nothing. We have been given so much, and so often by those with very little to give. Along the way we have been taught such unforgettable lessons in resiliency, and in kindness.

Nothing about our lives in Buenos Aires is the way Nick or I imagined it would be. The constantly hovering economic crisis is terrifying in and of itself, and also leads to crime, corruption, and class division. The crisis and its scary companions make living in Buenos Aires much harder and much more unpredictable than we could have thought.

In our little way, we too are learning how to become resilient survivors, who don’t forget about being kind along the way

But the lessons in kind resiliency from these Argentine “survivors” make it the most beautiful choice of our lives, for in our little way, we too are learning how to become resilient survivors, who don’t forget about being kind along the way. And it is with these thoughts and with its ensuing gratitude that I hand over ten pesos to the sweet waiter.

“Gracias, chica,” he says to me with a smile.

“De nada, gracias a vos,” I reply, meaning it.

I take my shopping bags full of spices, and head home, past the paper lanterns and signs for sushi rolls, out of Chinatown. I hail the 113 bus, climb on, and open the window to watch the scenery pass by: Belgrano and its Spanish style mansions, their red shingled roofs a striking contrast to their white stone foundations; Villa Urquiza and its heladerias artesanales; onto the autopista and past the veterinarian school, its horses and cows an odd sight in the middle of this cosmopolitan city; and finally to sleepy and tranquilo Paternal, our home in Buenos Aires, our sanctuary within these heart-breaking, heart-warming, and life-altering lessons.

Subscribe to TravelBlogs Posted by Sarah Maxwell from Palabras de Portenos. on February 10th, 2009 in Articles.
Tags: Argentina, Buenos Aires, financial crisis