Buenos Aires: Futbol Game!

February 28th, 2015

Guess who went to a professional soccer game on her last night in Buenos Aires?!

IMG_5094I was so excited to get a ticket! The home team, San Lorenzo, is one of the top five teams in the league. Their colors are red and blue stripes, so my Airbnb host let me borrow his Barcelona jersey (where Messi currently plays). I love dressing the part and needless to say, I fit right in!

Buenos Aires has more professional teams than any other city in the world, and they take their soccer very, very seriously. In the past, there was so much violence between the fans of opposing teams that four years ago, the president of Argentina restricted attendance to only fans of the home team. Therefore, it’s almost impossible to purchase tickets to a game if you aren’t already a “member” of the home team because they don’t want fans from the opposing team to “sneak” into the stadium using tickets they purchased off the streets.

Harry’s cousin Ellen, her husband Amin, and I ended up buying tickets through a tour company. Although we paid a lot for our tickets, the benefits were well worth it. Our guide was fun and energetic, and he told us all about the politics of soccer in Argentina. It’s pretty mind-blowing to learn how the hooligans — the actual name of the obsessed, crazy, and, at times, violent fans — control a lot of things around the city (think of the mob). The tour provided transportation to and from the stadium, so we didn’t need to deal with public transportation and the other 30,000 rowdy attendees. Additionally, we felt safe and it was nice having someone else deal with all the logistics for a change.

The stadium was rocking and the hooligans sang/chanted for the entire match. Unfortunately, San Lorenzo lost to San Martin (a lower-ranked team) 1-2. We felt pretty lucky when our guide whisked us out of the crowded stadium into the safety of our van.

What a rush! I will never forget this experience!

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Buenos Aires: La Policia

Here’s a funny story that happened to us a month ago. Keep in mind that we’d only been in Buenos Aires for two weeks and our language skills were lacking significantly.

The Buzzer 

One morning the loud buzzer to our apartment rang, announcing a visitor. We ignored it. We weren’t expecting anyone, we didn’t even know anyone! It rang again, and again we ignored it. The buzzing stopped. Five minutes later it started again, persistent and loud. I should note that the buzzer is loud enough to be heard throughout the ten-unit apartment complex so it wasn’t just annoying, it was embarrassing.

I nervously pressed the talk button, and immediately, a man’s voice flooded the speaker with rapid Spanish. I sort of explained I couldn’t understand him and promptly hung up. The buzzer rang again. I said hello and goodbye in one mumbled breath and hung up. Buzz! Buzz! I ignored it but it kept buzzing, seemingly louder and angrier. I yelled at Harry to get out of the shower because I needed his slightly more advanced language skills to save me.

The Building Manager

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Through the peephole, I could see a man standing there! Of course, I assumed it was the angry buzzer-pusher from downstairs, so I cowered in the corner.

Harry jumped out of the shower, quickly got dressed and opened the door, half expecting to get punched in the face. He managed to decipher that Vincente, who lived in the apartment upstairs, was the building manager. He explained that the police were downstairs on the sidewalk, waiting to talk to us. We could tell that he was super annoyed by all the buzzing.

La Policia 

We followed Vincente downstairs with our minds racing and hearts pounding, and sure enough, there was a policeman standing on the sidewalk waiting for us. That’s when I realized that I had been repeatedly hanging up on the police officer! Oops. When he reached around his back, Harry was sure he was going to get handcuffed, but instead, he just wanted to shake hands and introduce himself.

The Crime

So what did we do wrong, you’re wondering with bated breath? The crime was that our 2nd story air conditioner unit wasn’t in proper working order. The drain hose was hanging down out the window, dripping water in front of the shopkeeper’s doorway. She was furious about the puddle of water, so she called the police. I’m not making this up!

The funny thing is that there are air conditioner hoses coming out of windows on every building all over town. We get dripped on everywhere we go. In fact, walking on sidewalks is quite the risky undertaking: you have to look down to avoid stepping in dog poop and tripping over broken concrete while simultaneously looking up to avoid the big drips of water.

The gathering crowd appeared amused, and the officer seemed embarrassed. We apologized and did our best to say we’d get it fixed. To our credit, at least we knew how to apologize in Spanish.

Epilogue 

The air conditioner was fixed the following day, which made the shopkeeper happy. Now she waves to us as we come and go. We see “our” officer occasionally on our block, and we always exchange friendly greetings. I’m pretty sure he was secretly tickled pink to have his picture taken with Harry.

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