IIIIIIIIIIIIIIt's.... FACT TIME! (with additional Pictures)

Time to get serious, yo. It occurred to me that I've been absorbing all these background facts and that they might be Usefully and Pertinently collected here. So I've dug some stuff up.

Argentina is the 8th largest country in the world in area, though the 31st in population. The population of the Buenos Aires is about 3 million, though the population of the "metropolitan area" is about 12 million, making it the third (or second, depending on how you count) largest city in South America.
Montana's entire population is nearly 1 million. MT=380,849 sq km, and BsAs=203 sq km. That gives Montanans about 5600x more space per person than porteños. Someone check my math; I don't think I can handle that absurd of a difference!

The population is mostly white (of Spanish/Italian descent) and mostly (nominally) Catholic, although Buenos Aires has a notable Jewish population. According to the Mexican poet Octavio Paz (that's right, I have a quote!), "Argentines are Italians who speak Spanish and think they're French."
Truth, from what little I know.

The country is arguably the most progressive in Latin America in the area of gay rights, as civil unions are permitted in the capital and some of the provinces, and in 2009 it became the site of the first gay marriage in Latin America. Since the couple was married under special legal (judicial) circumstances, I wouldn't say gay marriage here is legal per se, though.
Abortion seems to be nearly impossible to obtain legally.
The president is Cristina Fernandez de Kirchner, and the political system is a many-party tangle I have yet to figure out (and probably won't, since I'm studying flighty surrealist authors instead of politics or history). The former dictatorship(s) still has a marked influence on politics - at least one political party still bears the name "Peronist."

People always seem to be marching for one thing or another near the Congreso building, which is also my Subte stop to get home from FLACSO (where I take four of my five classes). It's difficult to figure out what the Spanish political slogans mean sometimes, especially over the drumming, but at least one was for the Partido Obrero (Worker's Party) and another, on the national Dia de la Mujer, women's rights. It seems to me like there is more political involvement here than in the US on the part of the people, but it's hard to tell. In any case, the marches make walking home exciting.
I've also heard rumors that the Subte will be on protest next week. (But I dun wanna take the bus to school!) We'll see.

For those who don't know, Juan Peron - and his wife, the famous Evita, whose tomb is still covered with fresh flowers daily - controlled the government from 1946 to 1955, and for another year in 1973. Argentina wobbled under dictatorships from 1943 to 1983, and suffered a massive economic collapse in 2001 (bank runs! defaulting on foreign debt! 25% unemployment! huge devaluation of currency!), which it's still coming back from. One of the more common stencil-graffiti signs scattered across the city says "LA DEUDA EXTERNA MATA," which means "the foreign debt kills."

Speaking of, I love the graffiti. At least half of it is political ("Ninguna mujer nace para ser puta!") - some of it stenciled and copied in the strangest places, some of it obscure slogans, some of it blogspot web addresses for opinion-pressing. Stenciled portraits and caricatures, declarations of love, and the occasional tag on a Subte.
"Fuck the Police" it says, on a building that's been standing since 1831. "POETAS DE NADIE ROCK" says another. "Pink Floyd," "Bad Religion," "JETS."
Then there's the straight-up murals, which are extremely variable and all very interesting. This one is not too far from my apartment, on the outside of an art school.

Don't even get me started on the inside of the IUNA (art university) building. Patchwork-y, spontaneous-looking artwork explodes on random walls and classrooms and stair landings; it makes me itch to add to it. The place is kind of spartan and not terribly clean, but oh, the smell of paint. Even though it's in La Boca, which is far away and which the Subte is apparently afraid to enter, I am rather excited to take a class there.

One final historical anecdote I found amusing: in 1982, Argentina attempted to nab the Falkland Islands from Britain, which has claimed them as a territory since at least the 1830s. This failed utterly and in doing so finished off the dictatorship, but Argentina still insists that "las Islas Malvinas" are in fact Argentine, despite the Falkland Islands' government absolutely ignoring them after Britain kicked them out. Hence, "Las Islas Malvinas" must be named as such, and counted as Argentine, on every map printed here, and the nearest cross street to mine is named Malvinas Argentinas. Because naming a street after something proves it exists.
Honestly, I'm not quite sure why Argentina is in denial about this, because though the islands are close geographically, they are also small, full of sheep, and insistently British. Must be that famed Argentine pride.

And thus ends the research portion of the program.

Let us now debate the relative merits of sunsets viewed from my balcony here:


Versus sunsets viewed from my balcony in Montana:


Hmm. I give BsAs full marks for effort, but MT's just got this undiluted gorgeousness...
(that is, a lack of smog and buildings blocking out the mountains).
Well, BsAs, you have six months to change my mind. Give it your best shot.

Next time I will have more to say about ice cream, bureaucracy-fail, and how I am absolutely fed up with aggressive Argentine men (whinnying like a horse? Not an effective mating call, thank you). I do not want to bore anyone with an absurdly long post, however, so I will just add the obligatory food comment and be done: I don't think my host-parents understand that prodding me to "Come tranquila! Come tranquila!" (Eat peacefully! Eat peacefully!) every ten minutes is not having its intended effect. I EAT SLOW, OKAY?

Viva el Partido Obrero!
Or something.

-Lindsey