Los viejitos y yo (The old people and I)

I had quite an action-packed weekend. And, interestingly enough, about 50% of my weekend was spent with the over 70 crowd. Let me explain...

Thursday night: My friend Diana found an open mic night at a Cafe in a nearby barrio, Bodeo. My roommate Christine and I successfully planned a bus route to the cafe. When we entered the cafe, however, the first thing I noticed was that in the small, intimate environment, about 95% of the patrons were over 70 years old. Not only that, but the cafe was a TANGO cafe. Meaning that all of the singers (and there were about 20, a long night) were going to be singing Tango. (Most people think that Tango is a dance, and it is, but it is also a style of music involving guitar, and very dramatic, emotional sounding music). Everyone, that is, except our friend Diana. So, in the spirit of not letting awkward situations getting the best of us, we waited until it was Diana's turn, then cheered her on through her indie song choices. It was a little bit of a strange setting, but yet another cultural experience in this lovely city. The old folk were completely amused by us American youngins, and they definitely enjoyed Diana's set (we did too)!

Friday: On Friday, I volunteer at Hogar Numero 4 (Home #4), which is a center for daytime activites for active seniors (ha that sounds like a brochure). The program is run through the Social Services sector of the Argentine Government, which funds multiple Hogares. My program, ISA has a relationship with Hogar #4, so another girl, Amanda and myself go once a week to volunteer. First, let me say that "volunteering" is a very loose term, because volunteers don't exist in Argentina. People don't have the free time to work without getting paid. Volunteering is a very American concept because many people are fortunate enough not to have to balance a full time job and school. Also, in the US, you "have" to put some volunteering on your resume, to get to your next level of schooling, or to your next job. In that sense, volunteering in the US can be very contrived and just part of the "getting ahead game." On the whole though, volunteering does produce that idea of social consciousness, which is a good thing.

So, anyhow. My friend Amanda had let me know that the Hogar was having an excursion on Friday to, in her words "some Evita museum" from 8 am to 6 pm. Although the excursion started at that ungodly hour, I was willing to go. I thought that Amanda was referencing the Evita museum that is near my house, so I thought I would be able to leave early and just go home when I needed to. We got up very very early in Friday to make the trip to the Hogar. When we arrived, we saw a tour bus outside and climbed aboard with about 30 senior citizens. Amanda and I still had no idea really where we were going but when we woke up 2 hours later, we were clearly far outside of BA. Amanda was clearly mistaken about the Evita Museum.
We finally arrived at Una quinta (a farm) and the old people were so cute and excited to get off the bus and explore the little farm/banquet hall/outdoor area where we would spend the rest of the day. We met up with another Hogar, to total around 70 senior citizens, and about 6 30-somethings that were in charge. Our first activity was a breakfast of medialunas and coffee, and then we had time to explore the outdoors for a little bit. Amanda and I tried to socialize with the seniors, and they were more than willing to hang out with us, but the people in charge of the Hogares had us hang out with them- which was really fun! Our next activity was to board this open-air party train (sorry, but that is the best way I can describe it) to drive to another quinta- where the Perons spent their time when not in BA (this is where Amanda got "Evita museum" from) and that was now a museum. We started driving there- the old people standing up and clapping, dancing and waving to the people on the streets. Interestingly enough, we were in a very rural area- most of the houses were made of cement, with curtains for doors. It was quite a striking contrast from BA.

Once we got to our destination, we waited outside of the museum, only to be told that it was closed during the week! One of the old ladies sniped to me, "Esto es bien argentino!" Translation: This is SO Argentine! And it was very Argentine to plan an extensive outing to a museum that wasn't even open! But, for the most part, the seniors didn't care. They just loaded back onto our party bus to head back to the quinta, to lunch.
Lunch was a traditional asado. And by this, I mean a glorified meat parade. There are four courses of meat: chorizo (sausage), blood sausage (the NASTIEST looking thing I have ever laid eyes on), chicken, and pork ribs. I ate salad. And I had some delicious flan for desert. The afternoon was spent in the sunshine, drinking mate, speaking Spanish and playing cards. I half-learned a new game, called Truco (trick)! Again, the 30-somethings wanted us to hang out with them instead of the old people, so Amanda and I just spent time speaking in Spanish and enjoying ourselves. Not too bad for a day of volunteering!
Around 6 pm we boarded the bus to go home. The one downside of the day was the combination of bussing that I need to get home ended up taking about 4 hours (rush hour in the city).

I was exhausted, but it was really a great day, full of Spanish and it made me feel really very Argentine.