Argentina v. Iran: What I Did During the Soccer Game

It’s not secret that Americans aren’t known for understanding nor appreciating soccer.  In the spirit of the World Cup, I’m trying to watch more soccer and figure out why this sport is so beloved around the world.  Now that our cable finally works again (it was out for a month because the cable company never came to fix it), I decided to sit at home and see if I could figure out what the fuss is all about.  Here’s what happened: 

1:00 p.m. – The game starts on time.  This always surprises me because nothing in South America runs on time.  Maybe the World Cup is the only exception.  I had already started making oatmeal cookies, so I put those in the oven.  We don’t have a timer so I am using the clock on the game to know when to take the cookies out.

1:03 p.m. – Eating cookie dough and watching Messi.  Both elements of a good afternoon.

1:15 p.m. – Curious about how hard the skulls of soccer players are.  They hit that ball with their heads a good deal, and I am sure after a while that has to hurt.

1:20 p.m. – Still no goals scored.  I take the cookies out of the oven, bottoms are burned, middle is not fully cooked. 

1:21 p.m. – Argentina almost scores a goal, but the Iranian goalkeeper knocks it out.  Still 80+ minutes of play to go.

1:27 p.m. – I start folding my laundry in front of the TV.

Cute Argentina fan (hincha in Spanish) Facebook sticker.

1:31 p.m. – This game is very boring.  I really don’t understand the appeal of soccer.  I have discovered soccer Facebook stickers, and these are infinitely more exciting than the game.

1:32 p.m. – Messi (the only player whose name I know) missed what I think is a penalty kick.  The commentators call him pulga, which means flea.  I cannot imagine he likes that nickname.

Sabella, looking sad.

1:38 p.m. – I really like when they show shots of the Argentine coach, Sabella.  He always looks like he is about to cry, like a sad teddy bear or something.

1:45 p.m. – End of the first half.  There are two minutes of extra time.  I also don’t understand why the refs can’t stop the clock when nothing is happening. 

1:46 p.m. – Someone has kicked someone else, so now Iran has a penalty kick (I think).  They don’t get it in, and so the first half of the game ends 0-0.

1:48 p.m. – There is only a break at the middle of the game, which is my favorite part because there are ads.  Think Superbowl ads but all about how great Argentina is.  There’s an ad for YPF (National Oil/Gas Company), and it is comparing the oil workers as they start their day to the soccer players in the locker room.  We are a team or we are nothing, the ad says. 

1:49 p.m. – There are a lot of ads that feature the mothers of the players, particularly for food products.  The one showing now features Messi’s mom and is for milk.  There’s a lot of interesting gender stereotypes at play here—the mother as the nurturer and caretaker.  Interestingly, the woman then would be the person who is responsible for the Argentine team.  In all of the ads I have seen and of shots of fans at the game, there is a notable absence of women. 

1:50 p.m. – Political ad with candidate saying how much he loves the Argentina team.

1:51 p.m. – Ad comparing life to a soccer game.  The most important is to leave everything on the field.  Of course this is a Coke ad. 

1:52 p.m. – Quick recap of the game’s highlights.  It’s a little weird because they have no goals to show.

1:53 p.m. – Oh this really cute dog food ad where the dogs are singing and playing soccer for the team.  I love this one.

1:54 p.m. – Another ad with the mom of a player.  Where are any other women??

1:55 p.m. – Wait, just saw an ad that had girls and boys playing soccer together.  Ok, brings grand total of women in this broadcast to three. (Four if you count them playing the official World Cup song where Jennifer Lopez sings.)

1:58 p.m. – Another mom ad.  Women count: 5.

2:03 p.m. – Game is starting again. 

2:06 p.m. – The Wikipedia page about the Argentina team shows its different uniforms over time.  This is more interesting than the game.

2:09 p.m. – I just realized that the goalies changed sides during halftime. 

2:11 p.m. – Wondering what language the referees use when they talk to the players?  Do the refs for this game know both Spanish and Farsi? 

2:14 p.m. – Almost one hour in and still no goals.  I can feel myself getting sleepy.  Time to break out the Coke Light.

2:17 p.m. – Even the announcers are annoyed that no one has scored.  Argentina has been close a bunch of times, Iran just a few.

2:25 p.m. – Why do the coaches always wear suits?  They’ve got to be really hot, it’s Belo Horizonte, Brazil.

Sabella, not looking like he is going to cry, but still perplexingly wearing a suit.  (http://www.rpp.com.pe/pict.php?g=-1&p=/picnewsa/965839.jpg).

2:26 p.m. – Iran is just the closest it has been to scoring.  Argentina is a much better ranked team, I am unsure why they have been unable to score.

2:31 p.m. – Messi misses another penalty kick.  28+ minutes left.

2:39 p.m. – Seriously this is really not interesting.  Getting up to do the dishes.

2:43 p.m. – Back in front of the TV.  Thank goodness no one scored without me.

2:47 p.m. – Amigo, this is all bad, all bad, says one announcer to the other.

2:48 p.m. – Extra time, four minutes.  Still 0-0.

2:49 p.m. – I hear screaming, this is troubling, oh wait, my TV has a two second delay, we finally scored, GGGGGOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL.  (I too let out an audible yell; I waited almost two hours for this.)  Good work, Messi!

2:53 p.m. – Game ends, and Argentina wins!  Sabella says, All is possible with Messi.

(http://news.bbcimg.co.uk/media/images/75546000/jpg/_75546705_messi2.jpg)

What did you think of the game?  Do you have a favorite World Cup memory?  Leave your story in the comments below!

Bus Drivers Behaving Badly

The bus was, and continues to be, a constant source of humor and frustration for me in Buenos Aires.  I learned how the bus worked (where I’m from in the States has a bus, but it doesn’t go anywhere near my house nor have I ever taken it in the city), which actually took quite some time to get the hang of.  I figured out the different branches of the bus routes—a bus line (say, the 60) may have more than one branch within the same bus, so you have to make sure you are on the correct one or you may end up somewhere you didn’t intend.  The 60 is the bus I take to school, but there’s one branch of maybe ten that doesn’t go past school and goes a completely different way.

Now that I know how to get around, I can appreciate the fascinating behavior of the bus drivers.  I cannot imagine this is a fun job, but the drivers do all sorts of things to pass the time.  I have seen bus drivers smoking, singing along to the radio, eating, reading the newspaper at stoplights, and talking on the phone.  My favorite of the bus driver activities is when the driver stops the bus in front of a kiosko (small store that sells candy, soda, other snacks), gets out, goes in a buys something, and then returns to the bus.

The bus drivers also like to stop and chat with each other.  When there are two buses of the same company together, they’ll try to get in adjacent lanes to talk.  When it is two buses of different companies, they might be saying bad things about the other bus or yelling at the guy for cutting him off. 

Two drivers chatting while stopped at a red light.  Photo from Wikimedia.  

All riders of the bus also have the pleasure of talking with the driver every time they get on the bus.  In Buenos Aires, there are different fare rates depending on how far you are going.  You have to tell the driver where you plan on getting off to pay the correct rate (however, no one ever checks this, so I’m not sure how good of a system this is).  (Additionally, this rate is not necessarily fixed—sometimes I am charged different amounts depending on the driver, and sometimes if I am wearing a skirt I get charged the lowest fare rate.)  This, as a non-native Spanish speaker, provides the opportunity for the bus driver to offer his opinion of my accent, ask where I am from, or other invasive question.  I have heard the following within the last month: “Aw, what a cute accent,” “What a cute American,” “You’re not from here, are you?” 

The bus drivers also have to manage the sometimes angry porteños (people from Buenos Aires) on the bus.  There is a lot of yelling about a variety of topics, including bus rerouting due to strikes or construction, and the driver has to calm the situation while still driving the bus.  This past Saturday when I was on the bus, an older woman pushed the button for a stop, but the driver didn’t stop in time or didn’t hear the tone to stop.  The following exchange occurred:

Woman: Why didn’t you stop! I pushed the button!
Driver: Sorry, ma’am, I’ll let you off at the next stop.
Woman: I am old, I can’t walk that far.  You are very rude!
Driver: Excuse me, ma’am, I can’t always be perfect.  And I am not rude!
Woman: You are rude, when I got on the bus and said good morning you didn’t say anything back!  That’s very rude!
Driver: Ma’am, if I was rude I would have not charged you the senior citizen bus fare.

All in all, I think the bus drivers are pretty friendly (in both good and bad ways).  In my first months here, I would timidly show them the index card where I had written the address of where I was going, and they would always tell me if I was on the wrong bus or going the wrong direction.  I even had a driver take me to the next bus stop and explain to someone else waiting what bus I needed to take so I wouldn’t get lost.  I was also on a bus one time when a woman started having a medical event and needed to be taken to the hospital.  The bus driver got off the bus and summoned the paramedics, and then drove the bus into the ambulance entrance of the hospital so they could get her.

My last remaining question about the bus is what the drivers do if they have to go to the bathroom—I still have a couple of months left to figure that one out.  

University of Buenos Aires- First Impressions

This semester, I have one class at the University of Buenos Aires, a public institution.  I am still taking classes just for exchange students but taught in Spanish as well as a class at the private university; this semester I have a more challenging course load as I am taking two “direct enroll” classes at Argentine Universities.  My experience at UBA has, all things considered, been going really well, and I wish I had taken a class there last semester.

Outside of the UBA building where I take classes.  There are two locations for the School of Social Sciences, located about a twenty-minute bus ride apart.  (Photo Wikipedia).  

UBA is a massive institution- I was told there are upwards of 300,000 students, and there’s no centralized campus.  Argentines, per the Constitution, have a right to universal education and healthcare, so by extension, the UBA undergraduate experience is free.  You have to complete and pass a year’s worth of introductory courses called Ciclo Básico Común (Basic Cycle) for the school you want to go to, and then you are allowed to declare your major and begin study.  Most majors take six years; however, the majority of Argentines work while studying, so the degree process can take a very long time if you’re not a full-time student.  There’s a joke here that almost everyone you meet is a student at UBA, since it takes so long for people to finish and get their degrees.

My class is called Communications Practices with Focus on Gender and is a seminar in the Communications school.  A seminar is a small discussion-based class that has a final paper instead of a final exam, and usually every student has to take at least one to graduate.  For me, this type of class is very similar to my classes at IU—the professor knows my name, I am expected to speak in class, and the students generally give presentations or apply the concepts learned in class to outside examples. 

Employee at the UBA fotocopiadora smoking.  Sincerely hoping that the place filled with paper (!!!!) does not catch on fire.

To understand the dynamics of the class, it helps to know that UBA has a reputation for being pretty leftist and in some schools, radical.  Che Guevara studied at UBA’s Medical School and is a major inspiration for many of the students.  My class is in the extension campus of Social Sciences, which is not as bad as the Philosophy and Letters building.  However, there are still painted signs everywhere calling for support for various causes, the students occasionally “take” the school over and shut it down for the day, professors will strike because they don’t get paid enough, the list goes on.  You can smoke in the building (despite the frequent signs saying it’s illegal per city law.  It appears that Argentines have a right to free education but not to a free toilet paper in the bathrooms—you have to provide your own.

Our professor is a well-known Argentine journalist who focuses on gender equality for women and also those with “diverse genders.”  All of the students in the class are very conscious about gender topics and many work in schools, therapy centers, or other locations where the topics we discuss are part of their jobs.  The majority are female, and there are a couple male students who sheepishly admitted they were in the class because the other seminar they wanted had filled up.  I am without a doubt the youngest and least experienced in these topics.  This puts me at a disadvantage not only thematically but also linguistically, as a large part of our class focuses on sexism in language.  Every noun in Spanish has a gender (dress is male, chair is female, window is female) and adjectives have to agree with gender and number with the nouns.  If you have a group of people (or objects) that is comprised of at least one male, then you use all male adjectives.  This frequently makes women invisible in texts. 

Cristina Kirchner, the president, is well-known and ridiculed for her efforts to use non-sexist language.  In Spanish, you use the word "todo" to describe everyone (Hello, everyone = Hola a todos).  Cristina will often say, "Hola a todos y todas," which is widely ridiculed by many Argentines because it sounds very out of place in a formal speech.

There are different ways to remedy this, as we learned.  Usually a word that is masculine ends in an “o” and feminine words end in an “a,” so some people use the @ to show both.  However, in my class (radical? Unsure) that @ is too limiting because it does not respect individuals who many not identify with a male or female gender.  Instead, we should use x, e, *, or / to include everyone in language.  A big critique of this is first, that there’s no way to reproduce it speaking and second, that it makes the language very clunky and strange looking.

We have had homework assignments where we have rewritten news articles to remove the sexist language—any readers who know Spanish will know how difficult of a task this was.  As a non-native speaker, I’m aware of the inherent sexism in Spanish but not to the degree of the other students.  Many of the other topics too—Argentine laws to help women (which are all referred to by number, someone help me!), different media personalities, and prominent gender violence cases from the last ten years—are totally new to me.  I understand what is being said in the class, but I don’t have the context to necessarily understand the nuisances.  I spend a lot of on Wikipedia and asking around after class to figure out who all the people are. 

The best part about UBA is how friendly everyone is!  At UCA, the private university, I might as well be invisible.  In my class in UBA, I have gotten multiple offers for help for words or ideas I don’t understand, and during class all of the students are willing to help me when I might not have heard of someone.  We talk before class, they ask me about America, and they help me explain ideas in class when I don’t know the words.  It’s such a better atmosphere and a much more organized class than what I had last semester.