Why Is This Strike Different From All Other Strikes

In the United States, we aren’t politically active.  We are passive, we like to sit, make angry Facebook posts about problems (slactivism), whine about how bad the government is and then not vote…the list goes on.  When the U.S. government shut down in October, I had the hardest time explaining the shutdown to Argentines.  “Why is there no government?” they’d ask.  “What does this mean?”  One of the coordinators of our study abroad group asked why there was not “fire and riots in the streets.” 

When Argentines strike, they go big.  So on April 10, they shut down the entire country.  The strike was announced a few weeks ahead of time, to allow for preparations.  Here is a list, by no means exhaustive, of what was shut down:

·      Subways

·      Trains

·      Buses

·      Gas stations

·      Truck drivers (which meant no deliveries to restaurants, grocery stores, cafes…)

·      Unionized restaurants

·      ATM restockers (banks were open, but when they ran out of money, they were done)

·      Free public bicycles

·      Flights within Argentina

·      International flights going out of Argentina (anything flying in was allowed to land)

·      Schools (technically open but not taking attendance)

·      Universities (University of Buenos Aires closed, Catholic Private University open but not taking attendance)

·      Trash collection

·      Ports

·      Courts

·      Butchers/stores that only sell red meat…

…And so on.  One of the news stations had a segment where people could tweet in their questions about the strike and what was going to be open.  (You used the hashtag #quierosaberdelparo, or I want to know about the strike.)  All day on Wednesday, the day before the strike, the news was constantly updating this list, adding in the groups that decided to participate.

The question that was most difficult for me to figure out was what the strike was about.  My understanding of strikes is that you shut down something as a negotiating tactic – we stop working at the auto plant until you raise our wages, for example.  After asking almost every Argentine I know to explain the strike, I finally got at least a small grasp of it. 

Screenshot from TV - on the left is Avenida 9 de Julio, allegedly the world's widest street, on a normal day, and on the right is the street the day of the strike.

To understand the strike, you have to understand the labor dynamics of Argentina and their relationship with the government and the economic reality of the country now.  Almost everything in the country is unionized and sub-unionized—there’s a union of bus drivers, but each bus line is its own union as well.  Each union wants to be the biggest to gain the most sway with the government to guarantee better pensions, more subsidies to their industry, and more influence with legislation.  They do this by fighting over groups of people; for example, there was a fight a few years back about whether people who deliver food to restaurants are part of the restaurant union or truck driver’s union (they went with the truck union).  There are different dynamics between leaders of different unions, too.  In economic terms, the Argentine peso devalued significantly at the beginning of the year, but workers’ wages did not increase accordingly.  The inflation in the country is incredibly high, preceded in the region by only Venezuela.

The essence of the strike was for a wage increase to ARS $9000 a month (about $900 a month using the black market pesos conversion rate), better guarantees of pensions, and the abolition of labor taxes (an income tax just on what you make working—remember Argentines hate taxes).  However, between the date the strike was announced and the strike, more demands started to be added.  I saw signs that said the strike was against “low minimum wage, inflation, and insecurity” and another sign how the strike was against “hunger.”  There was even a commercial on television a few days before the strike proclaiming the workers’ demands. 

It became clear to me that these demands are not something that the Argentine government, even if it were the best and most capable government in the world, would be able to fix quickly.  The strikers were upset about structural problems in the Argentine economy and daily realities of life.  The strike served to flex the political muscles of everyone involved—the union leaders were able to show their power to shut down the government, and the government threatened to cut off subsidies to the industries that participated in the strike.  Everyone wins?

In terms of what I did on this Thursday, my day was not drastically changed.  The gym was open, my favorite ice cream place was open, and I did homework in the park.  To me, it felt like a Sunday minus all the noise from traffic.  The woman I live with, Delfi, works at an international school and they cancelled classes as a precaution.  My boyfriend skateboarded to work because he didn’t want to “let the strikers win.”  His employer made lunch for all the employees who came and let them leave early. 

It’s too soon to tell what, if anything, has been achieved from the strike.  There’s still insecurity, hunger, and inflation for a great percentage of the Argentine population.  But in the nation’s political theater, maybe, just maybe, the tectonic plates of control have shifted, showing the new power in Argentina may lie with those working to keep it running. 

I Am In Love With the McDonald’s Girl

McDonald’s, a classic American mainstay, has always been a fun place to go when traveling in other countries or even in other parts of America.  I had a cone-cup at the McDonald’s in Poland, McFalafel in Israel (don’t try it), and even McCrab Cakes in Maryland.  But McDonald’s in Argentina is a sight to behold—it might have started out as an American restaurant, but here, the chain has several distinct Argentine twists.  I knew coming in that some things would be different, like having to ask for ice and not having bucket-sized Diet Coke (oh how I miss the $1 giant drinks), but I wasn’t prepared for all the ways the McDonalds would reflect local culture too.

The counter of McCafe inside of an Argentine McDonald's.  It's a cross between Starbucks and the usual McDonald's coffee offerings.  

First, Argentines love their coffee and pastries, particularly eaten in the late afternoon.  The “meal,” called merienda, is to tide you over until dinner around 9 to 11 p.m.  McCafe, which is just its own panel on the menu in the states, is its own separate mini-restaurant within the larger McDonald’s.  On its website, which has uncomfortable theme music, you can see the various offerings—lots of pastries, various specialty coffees in real glass cups, newspapers and magazines at your disposal, so high-class you might forget you're in the world’s largest fast food chain.  Related in the layout of the stores is the window facing out that sells the ice cream products; you don’t even have to go inside to grab a 70 cent cone or other cold snack. 

On the linguistic side, going to McDonald’s can be quite the challenge for an English speaker.  The majority of the foods have the same name, but if you go and ask for a McFlurry or Big Mac in an American accent, you will be served with a confused look.  The trick is to say the English word in an Argentina accent.  Big Mac becomes “Beeg Mah-k,” McFlurry “Mik Flurrrrrrri.”  I try to avoid ordering the McFlurry because I still can’t do the double r- sound and opt for the basic cone to avoid embarrassment. 

Argentine economic policy even comes into play.  It is actually cheaper to buy a Big Mac than a plain quarter-pounder here—that doesn’t make much sense?  When you go into the store, a Big Mac isn’t advertised, or at least, its price isn’t.  It is much easier to see the values of a quarter-pounder (yes, they still use that term even though Argentines have no idea how much a pound is) or any other food item.  When I was at McDonald’s last week, a Big Mac combo was ARS 40, and my quarter pounder (I didn’t even bother to ask for it plain, the equivalent of asking the workers to serve the burger on a gold plate here) combo was ARS 60.  What gives? 

The Economist magazine has something called The Big Mac Index – the logic is that a Big Mac is roughly the same around the world, and you can compare the price of Big Macs to see larger economic trends about the value of currencies around the world.  Many debate the usefulness of this tool, but we can be sure that the Argentine government takes it seriously enough to manipulate the price of a burger.  It’s a well-known fact that government officials have meddled in the McDonald’s pricing scheme.  (You can read more about the Big Mac Index and its influence in Argentina in an article in Slate from a few years ago.) 

There are more little differences I can point out.  The uniform for the workers is a jean or denim outfit (“j-outfit”), including McDonald’s-specific jeans with the signature “M” on the back pockets, efficiency in moving the line along is not as important, and condiments are kept behind the counter.  I try not to go too often, but sometimes McDonald’s can be just the thing to keep me from missing home.

And, just for fun, my favorite song about McDonald’s.  Hope you enjoy!

What’s for lunch/dinner/snack? The Empanada

Many people in the United States have the misconception that everything south of the border is the same—all of Central and South America is just a continuation of Mexico.  And since we know what “Mexican food” tastes like, it is safe to assume that all Spanish-speakers eat spicy food and have chips and salsa with every meal.  However, I cannot being to express how wrong this is; you’d be hard pressed to find an Argentine who can handle anything picante, and I’ve been searching to no avail for more than six months for tortilla chips.  I did just find Mexican salsa a few weeks ago to my surprise in Buenos Aires’ Chinatown.

One food that most countries do have, albeit with their own special take, is the empanada, a baked or fried pastry filled with any assortment of meat, vegetables, or cheeses.  Think of it like a baby calzone that you can eat whenever you want.  Empanadas are super easy to find and usually cost about a dollar.  In Argentina, they’re the go to social food and easy to grab for a snack when you’re running somewhere, or can even be an appetizer at a regular dinner or asado, a big barbeque.  At my house, my host Delfi will make 30 to 40 empanadas and put them in the freezer, and we cook them as needed.  They’re so prevalent in my diet that in November, I documented all the empanadas I ate, and at the end of the month it averaged out to one per day. 

Loyal readers of this blog may remember my ill-fated attempt last summer at making empanadas myself.  Thankfully, the real thing is a lot better.  I’ve had empanadas now in Argentina, Chile, and Brazil, and while all delicious, it’s easy to see each country’s character in the recipe.  Brazil has big fried empanadas filled with gooey cheese, think grease coming off on your napkin (or is it paper?  Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference.)  In Chile, the empanadas are a lot bigger, and the one I tried was fried and had goat cheese and raisins.

Beef empanada and caprese (cheese, tomato, oregano) tostada in Buenos Aires.  A tostada can be thought of as a bigger empanada in this case.

A sample empanada fold diagram.  You use the images to help you determine what is in each empanada.  (Image from http://www.matiasmoreno.com.ar/ box/repulgues.jpg.)

I have the most experience with Argentine empanadas, which are different depending on where you go in the country.  In Buenos Aires, you can find most different types.  The fold of the empanada is different depending on its filling, and sometimes the pizza-style boxes they come in have diagrams on the side of the box to help differentiate.  There’s carne (beef, olives, hardboiled eggs, sometimes raisins, spices), pollo (chicken, usually tomato-type sauce, hardboiled eggs), jamon y queso (ham and cheese), verduras (usually spinach, creamy cheese thing), humita/choclo (corn niblets and creamy cheese), among others.  When I was in the Northern part of Argentina, I tried quinoa and llama (yes, you read that right) empanadas. 

I eat my empanadas with a fork—ideally, my empanada is hot and greasy, and I don’t want that on my hands.  This is sometimes viewed as pretentious by Argentines, but in my defense, even in the United States I eat pizza, brownies, and other traditional finger foods with a fork and knife.  My new meal staple might not be the healthiest of foods, but I can’t think of something else more integral to my Argentine diet.