Buenos Ay-ya-ya-res

UPDATE: I added these pictures of my apartment May 1st, 2006. These pictures were taken of my apartment before we had a party, that’s why everything is so clean. I will put more pictures in the future of my pad which has ended up being SUPER awesome and probably the best looking apartment I will ever have. There is nowhere to go but downhill.

Renting an apartment in Buenos Aires is not an easy task, particularly if you’re a foreigner.  The way the system is set up does not take into consideration any outsiders.

In the US, it is difficult to evict someone.  In Buenos Aires, it is literally impossible.  Thus, landlords are very choosy about who they open their doors to.  This explains why they have this ridiculous policy of requiring a garantia from applicants.  "Garantia" translates to "guarantee."  A garantia is a document that one gets when he buys property.  Let’s call our property owner Pepe.  When someone else wants to rent an apartment, she needs to find someone who owns property, who is not currently lending his garantia to someone else, and ask to use his garantia.  We’ll call our renter Matilda.  And Matilda has found an apartment from the Diaz family.  The Diazes need proof that if Matilda doesn’t pay her rent, someone else will be held accountable.  So, Matilda asks Pepe if she can use his garantia.  Now, Pepe needs to trust that whomever uses his garantia won’t screw him, and in the past, he has said no to people because he cannot afford to pay someone else’s rent and doesn’t want to put himself in that position.  Except that Matilda is his niece and he trusts that she will pay the rent.

So, Matilda reserves the apartment owned by the Diaz family.  She pays 300 pesos to reserve the property and gives the inmobiliaria (real estate agency) the garantia that she got from Uncle Pepe.  The inmobiliaria sends the garantia to a government agency to see if Pepe’s apartment has any mortgages, debts, or if he is already using the garantia for someone else.  A week or so passes by, and the inmobiliaria gets news that the garantia is good, Matilda pays one month’s rent in commission to the real estate agency, one month as a deposit to the Diaz family, and her first month’s rent.

Ahh, if only I had an Uncle Pepe.  No.  Nope, no family in Argentina.  Some good friends, but none who own property and, please, who is going to put themselves in danger of debt because I need to rent an apartment?  Not too many people.  Thus, looks like I have to rent an apartment that doesn’t require a garantia.  Ahh, these apartments reserves for foreigners, well, that’s fine, I’m a foreigner, right?  Sure!  So, I’ll take one of those apartments.  Oh, wait, you want to charge me 3 to 5 times what you would an Argentine?  Awesome.

Not to mention the fact that I want to have a studio here (silkscreen printing), so I can’t take a furnished apartment, and there are even fewer apartments available unfurnished for rent to foreigners.

Many people go the route of paying 6 months rent or a year’s worth of rent upfront in order to serve as a garantia.  But a lot of landlords and inmobiliarias simply won’t work with you if you don’t have a garantia.  I think they figure it is too much of a hassle because, legally, a landlord is required to get a garantia from his tenant.  If not, he has even fewer rights should something arise.

Bueno.

So, I bought a garantia on the black market.  I really don’t like doing illegal things, but it wasn’t that expensive and the apartment that I so badly wanted to rent was one of these places that wouldn’t even entertain the idea that I could pay the whole rent up front.

Waiting for the garantia to pass was one of the most anxiety inducing experiences I have had here.  I knew I had to be out of my other apartment by September 1st and there was NO WORD about whether the garantia had passed.  Not to mention the fact that as time went by, I was hearing from more and more people that black market garantias never work.  I was so afraid I was going to have nowhere to go!

And then a week ago the inmobiliaria called and my garantia had passed.  Aah, sweet bliss.  So, I called the place where I bought the garantia and I found out, low and behold, I need to give the guy whose garantia it is, the garante, one month’s rent.  Shit.  Remember Matilda?  Yeah, she paid 3 months rent when she started.  I have to pay 4!  Great.

All this was compounded by the fact that I lost my wallet a month ago and I have no credit cards or bank cards to get money out.  Thus, I am best friends with the workers at Western Union.  But that is NOT the best way to get money in this country since they take such a large cut.  Some friends they turned out to be, right?

But in the end I got an amazing apartment in the neighborhood I wanted with Susannah, my roommate from the previous apartment.  It is gorgeous.  And I am pleased as punch.  So, you should come over and we’ll drink mate.

It is obvious that I am a foreigner here, but for some reason people are unwilling to guess that I am from the United States.  I have gotten a lot of Irish, some British, one day a cab driver asked me if I was Russian or Croatian, and the other day, Susannah (my roommate, from Chicago, blonde hair) and I were asked if we were Brazilian!  I wonder why this is.  And at times I find the confusion very flattering, which concerns me a bit.  At first stab, possibly my flattery stems from the fact that I am speaking with less of an accent and it is harder and harder to distinguish where I am from.  Or maybe it is the way I dress.  I do love being a fashion enigma.

But what I really think is at the heart of it is that people assume that they don’t like Americans.  Or rather, they have such a strong idea about what American travelers are like, and when I don’t do the things they expect, they eliminate USA from the list of possible countries.  So, should I be flattered that I am not thought to be an American? 

It is not the easiest time in the history of the US to be outside the country.  Our international reputation is not doing so hot.  And while most people I have encountered do not hold the choices of the US government against me, there is a lot of prejudice against Americans to combat.

Nonetheless, I am not comfortable lying about who I am.  I understand why people pose as Canadian when they are abroad–not because they are ashamed of where they are from, but rather because they are not treated like the rest of travelers, they are refused from hostels, given bad service at restaurants, or made to debate American policy at every social gathering, making a vacation anything but relaxing.  I get it.  I don’t condemn anyone who makes that decision.

I just can’t do it.  With all great privilege comes great responsibility; if I was lucky enough to be randomly born into the US, I am unlucky enough as well.  So, if I am upfront about my American-ness, why would I be flattered by someone guessing I am from elsewhere?  I guess there is a part of me that hopes I am giving a good impression and that when people assume I am not from the US and then they learn I am that maybe our reputation will improve.

Or maybe we have to stop occupying countries for our reputation to really improve.  I am probably putting too much stock into my diplomatic finesse.

Hola amigos!

So I moved to Buenos Aires.  Came here as a backpacker in February, stayed for 2 months, and moved here in June.  The city just felt like home.  Well.  No.  Providence is my home.  But the city felt so liveable and as though I needed to live it, so I made my decision.

I am really enjoying my time here.  It feels like even a day when I do close to nothing is a huge adventure.  Never being much of a language person, I am very proud of the strides I have made with my Spanish.  Sure, I sometimes tell people I am horny when I mean to say that it is too hot outside, sure I sometimes tell people I love them when I mean to say I believe them.  Sure, I sound like a 2 year old.  But people understand me and I understand them.  Oddly enough, they think it’s cute.

As a first post, I feel like I need to rehash everything that has happened in the five months I have spent here, but that is just so boring.  It will come out in future posts.  In short, it looks like I will be here for 2 more years.  Plenty of time to make everything clearer.

So, yeah, here goes my Internet diary.  The word blog makes me nervous.  I hope I keep this up.  Ok.  Yeah.  That’s it.