Disco-Ball Debate...

A Rainy Sunday in September

WARNING! THIS BLOG POSTING CONTAINS A POLITICAL OPINION!

I warned you. (Smiling). Politics are part of my life and this is where I write what happens in my daily life, how I see it, what it all means to me. I hope you’ll read what I have to say with an open mind, but no matter what, I hope you’ll vote.

On Friday the Presidential debate between McCain and Obama was televised here at a local bar and Jimmy and I went to watch. Mauricio, our friend from Mexico is visiting for a few months and Friday was his birthday so we invited him to come with us. We saw a bunch of friends there and we sat and talked about politics, watching the two men who would lead us into the next 8 years each trying his level best, from his own perspective, to convince us that he is what we need.



I already know who I will vote for. I made up my mind a while ago. I read and research and choose the candidate who will most effectively, in my view, govern with the issues I value in his heart. I choose the candidate who seems to care most about the things I care about. The things I care about are the environment, the economy, health care for all, inclusive policies that promote all family choices (not just the ones that fit with a straight Christian world-view), the end to American involvement in foreign wars, protection of our civil liberties, education for the future and freedom from unnecessary government regulation of our private choices. That candidate this year, as you may imagine, is Barack Obama. There, I said it. I know, it’s not polite any longer in American society to talk out loud about politics unless you’ve checked to be sure the person your talking to feels the same way you feel already.

Excuse me, but I think that’s bullshit. How can we learn from one another and make sensible choices if the only people we’ll listen to are the ones who already think what we think? If you want to talk to me, I’ll listen and I’ll share my thoughts with you. I like to talk about what I think. But you could’ve guessed that. (Smiling again).

So off I went to the debates to watch my chosen candidate try to convince the people who have not yet made up their minds that he is the candidate who can take us where we need to go. It was surreal being here in Argentina and watching the debate streamed from home. I looked around at the 350 or so people, mostly Americans but not all, who showed up to watch as they sat staring at the screen with the twinkle of disco ball lights glittering across their faces (I said a bar, I guess I meant more like a dance club). The psychedelic walls held a room full of hope and frustration and even a dash of “intellectual arrogance” thrown in. We are world travelers after all and, yes, like everyone, we think we’re right. There were all kinds of people; young and old, all colors and all levels of income, gay and straight. There were tattoos and piercings, there were married people and single and there was some flirting in the room too. There were people who have always voted democratic, people who’ve never voted before and people who have been on both sides of the fence. Most of the people in the room were democrats. The event was sponsored by Democrats Abroad Argentina and so the energy in the room was definitely strong on support for Obama.


I listened to what Senator McCain had to say. I didn’t hear anything that would change my mind, but I think it’s likely that my bias is now too strong, still, I listen. I thought Senator Obama could have hit a little harder. I know he’s trying to run an issues campaign. I respect that. It’s just that I wish at some point, while he looked at his opponent, spoke to him directly and made his points, he’d simply said, “Look at me John. Look at me when you speak to me. You may not like me. You may not like my politics. You may not like being here. But look at me and let’s talk about these things because they matter to people. Other than that I thought Senator Obama spoke clearly and intelligently about the issues that are most pressing for most Americans now. We took a cab home and as we rode the 3 of us discussed what we thought. We think he’ll win, our Obama. We think he has what it takes to lead our country back to greatness. It’s been a rough 8 years for America. I am holding the dream that there is enough hope left to trust that things can be better.

Remember to vote. Your voice matters. If you aren’t registered, you can do it online. If you are in Argentina, Africa, Russia, Iraq, Scotland, you can vote. Do it. It may never have been more important.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder...

September 24th.

My concept of beauty is changing. I still don’t know what everyone is talking about when they say that the city is beautiful. Sorry, that’s the truth. It’s very dirty, and there are some beautiful buildings but some of them are surrounded by very ugly buildings. Still, I am beginning to learn to look beyond certain things and focus my attention on others. A few nights ago I saw stars in the sky for the first time over Buenos Aires. The city is so bright and dense and the air so dirty you can’t usually see the stars, but I also miss them a lot. I don’t look. This time I did and I saw them there, stars in the sky over the city I live in. Somehow, in ways I may never completely understand, that made me feel a certain warmth toward this place.

It happened again today. I looked out the window at dusk and I saw, over the pink building next door, which I’d never noticed before, that the sky was a lovely pink as well.

I passed a store the other day which for days had displayed a truly ugly pair of pants in the window. The pants were out of the window and onto the lanky looking dark haired Argentine standing in the doorway. They were grey and black and had this weird sort of Goucho thing going on (I know, Goucho). Still, on a tall, slender, dark haired, young girl they looked sort of becoming and somewhat cool.
I suddenly see more people smiling. I don’t know if it is because I’ve got the chip off my shoulder and am smiling more gently myself, inviting people in, or because, I’ve got the chip off my shoulder, and so I see people smile more often than I noticed before, or both.

I am calmer. I am easier to be with (don’t check that fact with my lawyer and we’re not talking about real estate today) and I manage the pace better. I am learning to go between “on” and “off” at the switch of a button and that helps. It helps to be able to let things go at the end of the day.

I still see the dog poop. Today I passed a woman on the street and gave her what for when she threw garbage on the street. In perfect Spanish I asked her why she threw her garbage in the street 5 meters after a trash can. She didn’t answer, but I clearly got to her, and that’s all I can hope for.

Business As Usual - In Buenos Aires

September 21st, Sunday

Someone once told me that a property owner here would rather let a space sit empty for years rather than sell it or rent it for less than they believe it is worth. And that what they believe it is worth is often based on some very subjective variables. At the time I heard that I didn’t really quite believe it was true. Now I do. Sometimes. Sort of.

Jimmy, Don and I found a space for our business, made a good offer on it, made a good showing as potential renters and waited patiently to hear back. The answer we received back was significantly inflated. We passed. We haven’t completely given up on that space, but we are actively seeking another. If they call before we sign on something else, we’ll talk to them. We aren’t waiting. We found another space and will begin negotiating with them on Monday. So here’s the trick: I want to carry forward the learning from the last negotiation without assuming that the new owner we are dealing with will do the same thing.

I suppose the trick is to remember that no one deserves to pigeon-holed. I can definitely see how people might say what was said to me about Argentine property owners. I hate being pigeon-holed though, so I will avoid doing to others. I want to step into our negotiations on Monday with an open mind. I want to assume that the people we will be dealing with want a win for both us and themselves and that they will be ready to work with us to create a great business that everyone involved can be proud of. We are going to be great tenants. We know there is a great owner out there with a great space that will be a match for us.

I was talking a few days ago with my friend Gabriel about some of the differences I notice about doing business here. He asked me if I didn’t think people are the same everywhere. I answered that, no, I don't think they are. Oh sure, I get that there are things about all people that are the same. We all love and laugh and cry and hope and want things for ourselves and our loved ones. But if I believed that people everywhere were the same, why would I have moved to another country to experience another culture? I came for the differences. I came to learn what things are the same and what things are different. And to adjust. There are some very significant differences. Some of them are not easy to get used to, or accept, but in all I am happy to be here and I am relishing the opportunity to be shaken out of my comfort zone. I am having to learn on the fly and to lean in to my partner in life and my partners in business, as well as the people we rely on for advice and help. I am also learning to trust myself, my gut instinct, and Jimmy’s and Don’s as well. We are smart, intuitive people and we are doing well managing the differences and figuring out what is next. When we don’t know, we figure out quickly who to ask.

As we move into this week I am excited about the conversation we are opening up on Monday. I’ll keep you posted. It should be interesting. It should be fun.

A Mexican in Buenos Aires...

Friday, 12 September, 2008

Yesterday my friend Mauricio arrived from San Diego. Well, technically, from Tijuana where he lives. He’s staying with us for a few months to help us put our new home together. Today we closed escrow on the apartment. Once more we went to the Casa de Cambio (change house) and collected money from a wire transfer, over $100,000 this time. We sat with our stack of money counting it out, almost 1000 $100 bills, until we had satisfied our escrow officer (escritura) that the full amount promised for our small apartment with a big view had been paid. It was a strange experience for me, coming from a technically advanced country where I didn’t often touch my money, not even for a $3 cup of coffee. Sitting at a table and handing over almost $100,000 was a very sobering experience. I watched as the man who sold us our apartment stuffed the bundles of cash into his pockets and socks and headed back to his office to finish the week’s work. He did not go to a bank. I don’t know what he’ll do with the money, but he won’t deposit it in an Argentine bank. That wouldn’t, for reasons I still don’t completely comprehend, be wise.

Tomorrow Jimmy will take Mauricio over to the store and they will begin to equip him with the things he’ll need to get started working at our apartment. When he leaves in December we hope we’ll be living comfortably in the space he’s remodeled. Jimmy, and sometimes I, will be his crew. We’ll work exclusively on that, when we aren’t working on our new studio space, or coaching, or teaching yoga, or painting, respectively.

Today we crossed a line of demarcation. There have been many moments in the past 9 months when we’ve passed points of no seeming return, but finally, today, we really crossed over. We now own a piece of property here that is worth more money than we can afford to abandon. We are here to stay, at least for the foreseeable future. During the weeks leading up to this day I have become more comfortable here. I have gotten used to doing things differently than I did in San Diego and have come to be more cautious about making assumptions. I ask more questions, am more patient with explanations and more ready to be flexible to get around things when they seem insurmountable. Still, there are things that I will never like about doing business here. There is a rigidness that I see in the way people work that stops the free flow of ideas, money and other forms of energy.

I have come to understand that there are ways, quiet ways, to move the mountains that stand in the path of progress in this strangely backward country filled with forward thinking people. Companies like Microsoft, Siemens, and 3M didn’t set up shop here for nothing and there are people in Argentina who are hungry to step firmly and surely into the 21st century. They trod about in illegal boots because walking a path of change here is often illegal, or simply “not done”. While this is not the place I want to spend the rest of my life I have come to believe that if I simply work hard, keep my smile stubbornly in place and insist on my own way of thinking, if not my own way of doing things, I will make a difference here. Buenos Aires has lots of brick walls. It also has lots of pathways under, over and around them if I am just patient enough to look and tuned enough to ask the right questions.

We ate our celebration dinner tonight at a local Mexican restaurant. We intended to go to the typical, very acclaimed, Argentine place just down the block. We didn’t go at 8 when we were all hungry because we thought it wouldn’t be open yet. Instead we waited patiently until 9:15 to leave only to arrive there at 9:30 and find it packed, no more tables. Just when you think you’ve got the thing figured out, a new twist appears. I’ll have to ask around about this tomorrow. Meanwhile, the Mexican food wasn’t bad. There will never be any danger that San Diego will be replaced by Buenos Aires as a hotspot for great Mexican cuisine, but it was a warm and friendly dinner among friend beginning a project together tomorrow and that is all we really wanted anyway.

Inspiro. Exhalo. Inspiro. Exhalo.....

The Second of September, a Tuesday

I am still breathing deeply after a relaxing weekend in Uruguay. Just across the Rio de la Plata is a small town called Colonia del Sacramento and Jimmy and I spent this weekend there. A friend of Jimmy’s, when he heard we were going said, “It’s boring.” and I remember thinking, “Yay!” It is a very quiet little seaside resort town with well preserved 60 year old cars and horses that pull loads along the roadways. There are restaurants and shopping, mostly for hand made Uruguayan art and craft, wool, wood, Jewelry, ceramica...

The town is a peninsula so almost any direction you head you’ll soon hit water. You can walk all over town in an hour or at a stroll. There is seafood there! Jimmy and I both ordered big hunks of fresh white tuna with grilled vegetables for lunch both days. We were so excited to see fresh fish on a menu other than salmon. Decadence! It wasn’t cheap but I didn’t even care.

Both days we walked along the coast, rocky shoreline studded with trees and dotted with grassy areas where we lay in the sun and listened to the water move. We walked on the cobbled streets and had our hearts warmed by the friendly smiles of people who stepped aside to let us pass. We walked over to the jazz bar near our hotel and listened to some Uruguayan musicians play Middle Eastern music. It was lovely all around. We sat and talked to one another with no pressing demands on our time. Even though we knew we were coming back here to that this week it was wonderful to just sit. No computers. No television, nothing we’d watch any way. No phones. Just the air and the small town and us. We befriended a town dog, a German Shepherd, who we met again later, wagging his tail at finding us again.

On the way back we talked about when we might go again. We know that this city, big enough for our dreams, will wear us down if we don’t get away once in a while. Today as I moved through another sun up to sundown non stop day I calmed myself with the knowledge that peace and quiet are only a one hour speed ferry over the river and I can get there. Knowing that makes it so much easier to do what I need and want to do here.