I am peering into the darkness of the Subway–the green line from “Cathedral” to “Congresso.” It’s the line I take to class in the morning. The subway is relatively safe. It’s tight in the morning, but no different from the DC Metro. Riders keep their wits about them–the norm in any city. A ride is 30 cents U.S.
I must balance the last entry’s kind sentiments about Buenos Aires with the cold realities of the city. There are dark sides to the lovely vida here.
There is dog sh*t everywhere. It’s almost impossible to enjoy your surroundings when you have to survey every inch of the sidewalk. On every street. No matter where you go.
The people of the night are called “cartonerros.” Because of the economic hardships of the city, low income and poor people from the suburbs enter the city at night to rifle through the garbage for recyclables in order to earn their living. This is a veritable source of income; however, the feeling of despair from seeing complete families searching through garbage without gloves is palpable.
Drivers are crazy and pedestrians are moving targets.
Children are overly doted upon. They have the stereotypical Latin angst–they scream and flail more than any other children I’ve ever encountered. Yet parents seem to have a high threshold; they don’t spank or correct the behavior until all of my nerves have frazzled beyond repair.
I’ve been keeping more positives in reserve. Please don’t think this is indicative of my entire experience.
On a happier note, I still have a few ounces of courage left after starting Spanish class today–completely in Spanish. Still trying to remember to breathe.