Hay por todo: Hombres y Mujeres

I have been spending more time with immigrants lately.  What a funny sound that has! It conjures up an image I am sure grandma Brown would rather I not be part of.  But that is what I am.  An immigrant.  There is a difference in mind sets between immigrants and ex-pats.

My English students asked me last week "What is the difference between an immigrant and an ex-pat?" I remember the explanation or most of the explanation my friend Frank gave. (Sugar and Spice) An immigrant is someone who moves to a country with the intention of staying.  They become a part of society.  The give back.  They don't just take.  They learn the language. (Hopefully) An ex-pat doesn't usually come for the long haul. Maybe they are transferred for work. Maybe they come for an extended period or they have an apartment and come and go.  There is no commitment to stay.  Many live in a bubble.  Keeping their same lifestyle, type of friends.  Probably I am getting this all wrong and Frank will probably kill me.  Probably not, but no more free chocolate chip cookies.

There is nothing wrong with being an ex-pat. Nothing at all.  I just find more often than not, I have nothing in common with them.  I don't go back and forth to my native country.  I don't have the money to travel all the time.  Sometimes Spanish overtakes my English.  (I find lunfardo so much more colorful to swear in)

The say after living a few years in a country you start to float and find your weight.  Now I am finding the people from the US I feel most comfortable with.  Most are married to Argentines, but not all. Most are here for the long haul with businesses. My friend Samy ( Good Morning BA ) who does everything from websites to personal vegan chef and Gina (Buenos Aires Style ) who has a marketing company. 

A group of us got together to go walk the street of Chinatown.  No plural because Chinatown is really just one street here.  On weekends some of the stores cook "street food."  Amazing stuff.  Almost dim sum.  For those of us that remember "way back when" it is great.  And the sauces!!!   Gina has a shopping list. She is on the hunt for Tree-T oil.  She has the Argentine name for it.  Yanqui Mike (Yanqui Mike ) wanted beans, and me nothing special. Oh yeah, Samy wanted bulk tofu. We don't really care about what we can't have anymore, because we know why we live here.

We meet on the corner of Juramento and Arribeños.  All of a sudden Mike disappears with this other guy.  Alicia his wife goes across the train tracks to find him.  He and Dave are sitting and having a beer.  The rest of us soon follow.  Not my idea of Chinatown on a warm Sunday afternoon.  OK.  Fine.  I end up next to Matthew.  We are drinking diet coke.

Matthew has been here a little over two years.  He is working here.  His work in the US was remote.  He realized he could work anywhere and somehow he ended up here, liked it and stayed.  He has been here over two years.  He is working on his Spanish.  We talk a lot about his observations and his experiences. They are very parallel to mine.  It is interesting because he is easily 20 years younger than me.  He doesn't dance tango.

He tells me he loves it here, but he is not going to go out with Argentine women anymore.  This leads to a discussion about relationships here.  I tell him how last Sunday I was talking to a friend of mine in the milonga.  I thought he said to me I must have a "cola de novios."  (a line of boyfriends) when he actually said something else.  I told my friend "No, los hombres aca no les gusta una Norteamericana con un caracter fuerte como yo tengo." My friend laughed and said "Darling, you are in a country that is pretty machista."  I went on to tell my friend how in my country sometimes men look at me and think I am not so smart based on looks, but when I talk they comment "Wow, how great, you are really smart, and funny."  Where here it is the opposite "They tell me how pretty I am and when I talk they get irritated by how intelligent I am." 

Matthew laughed. It's not just about the cultural differences of how women are supposed to act.  It is the difference of being foreign in another culture.  Americans act as a team.  Argentines are very individual.  We are used to making decisions together.  They don't do that here.  People go off and do things on their own and then argue about it later or not and carry a grudge or just ignore it.  We aren't used to that.  We are not used to engaging in arguments over things that just don't matter or arguing about things we think we are going to argue about before we are going to argue about them because that is normally what happens.  Or how you get told you said something you never said you said because the other person does not want to be wrong and they will argue to the death over it. Once you have been here awhile and have been in a couple of relationships you learn these things so they don't come out of left field and hit you over the head.  Histerica - Vuelteros...no thank you. 

Then there is the other side.  I see it in the milongas all the time.  The men and women who prey on the foreigners.  The gatos. Vividors.  I  did not know that it seeped over into other sides of life as well. In the milongas it is normal - almost.  Matthew tells me the foreign men get worked over with a finesse.  Most of them have no idea they have been had.  The stories are the same. 

We laugh because the men and women actually use the same stories.  The sad face.  The depressed attitude. Then finally the story comes out.  The mother who needs medicine.  The child who needs school books.  Always someone in the family that is in need.  Never anything that is a lot of money just little bits here and there.  I remember on my first trip here a "friend" playing this game with me. On his third meeting he was really sad.  He told me how his ex-mujer was driving him crazy.  They had no money to pay for the school for their daughter.  He went on and on about how smart their daughter was and what a shame it would be if she could not continue at her school. Always the sad face.  Same at the next meeting.  He did not expect me to be so smart.  I found out there was never an ex-mujer nor an hija.  Boludo. As the saying goes I was more vivo than he was.  But how many times had he used that story with foreigners to get money?

The guy actually cracked me up.  He had a terrible reputation, but he still drew the women and money.  I hung around him because he was funny to watch in action.  I remember another night when he invited me out to eat in a cheap tenedor libre. When we walked in he talked to the owner for a second.  Nothing suspicious about that.  But then about 15 minutes later the owner comes to him and tells him he is getting a ticket.  He runs outside.  He comes back.  Same long face with a paper in his hand. Same misery.  Impossible to eat with.  Now along with the phantom daughter whose school he cannot pay for he has a parking ticket for 100 pesos.  Sigh...pobrecito.  Parking tickets in 2000 were not 100 pesos.

Matthew tells me his experiences have been parallel with the women.  It is why he is done dating the Argentine women.  He now dates women from any other country but here.  His life is much more relaxed.  I tell him about the hate mail I get from Americans when I write about things like this on my blog.  He laughs.  "They don't get it."  he says to me.  "They just have the memories and then they are gone."

In one batch of emails I had an American man refer to me as a "Jaded self made bitch", among other things. In the same batch I had two Argentine men telling me that they were amazed at how well I had adapted to the culture, how fast I had learned, and one who had told me he was falling in love with me through my blog. (Really a sweet guy through his emails.)  What I find most interesting is how the greatest percentage of my hate mail comes from American men. They call me names, tell me I have no idea what it is like here.  How dare I write about Argentina and tango the way I do.

From Argentines, I receive incredible emails. I am always amazed at the warmth.  Even when I write about controversial topics like this. Most are proud that I have tried to understand and want to live in their country not as a Norteamericana, but just like them. Even when I have these frustrating problems with the men, they always tell me to have faith, that most of the men are terrible, but yes, there are some good ones out there. Alicia, Mike's wife tells me all the time, "Hay por todo."  What these Americans do not understand is the Argentine culture is more than just going to a milonga and eating asado.  But then, they are the ones who have probably paid for a few school books, or medicine for mom, and maybe a 100 peso parking ticket.

Comments

[Frank Almeida]

Hi Fred, I am right there with ya. I have just found pricey Pho, and wouldn´t mind finding some cheaper version.

Hi Deby! You probably remembered what I said better than I could remember it; it sounds about right.

Although, I don´t see anything wrong with expats either. It´s up to everyone that bumps into a different culture to try and take/give something positive from the experience.

I do love it here, problems and all, and I love Chicago (problems and all) and miss it so, as well.

[Fred]

Hi

Dang, sorry to have missed the Chinese Street food fair,there's nothing like good, cheap street food. I'd like to find a cheap Vietnamese shack, for a nice cheap bowl of Pho. I'm married to an Argentine, and am still getting used to the cultural differences, it's a learning process. Lotsa time with family here, that's for sure.
Fred

[El Paparulo]

Hay por todo, otro delicioso error que atrapa mas y mas y mi corazon:D.
Bombon, no le das bola a esos imbéciles, bue, no creo que lo hagas.
Jejejej, vos sos de las nuestras, si allá no te supieron cuidar, problema de ellos, que se jodan, que manden todos los mails que quieran, y si por Helena ardió Troya, vamos a la guerra con usa por Deby, si!!!.
Perdón no, pero cada día me convenzo más y más que que el norteamericano medio es Homero Simpson, así que, no te calentes. Bueno, sigo laburando, el posteo da para rato, ósculos:)