Category Archives: Living Abroad

This blog post is brought to you by the letter ‘P’

Overall

The three P’s of Argentina are: persuasion, persistence and patience. My epiphany came while searching, pleading and eventually signing on my new apartment.

First Persuasion. I don’t have a garantia. I’ve explained this before, but briefly it is when a family member puts up their property as assurance rent will get paid. Typically you need a garantia to rent in Argentina, which makes it very difficult if you’re a foreigner looking to have a more permanent, or simply your own, place to crash. Because of this for the first year, I lived in three different places.

The first place or as I remember it “The Scary Bathroom and Getting Wet at Breakfast” place, was in Colegiales, a bit too far from the city center. I probably could have dealt with that, but the green and black mold growing in the combination shower/sink/toilet room freaked me out and because it was a PH or propiadad horizontal it didn’t have a roof over what was the living room area. So when it rained, I would get wet sitting at the kitchen table.

The second place was much nicer with great red walls, a decent tub and shower and good roommates. The two-room apartment, upstairs from the owner was in San Telmo. The rooms were rented out separately, so unfortunately my roommates would change and it just takes too long to get in sync with someone elses bathroom needs. I didn’t want to do that every two months or so.

The third place was located in Villa Crespo, or as the adfolks are spinning it these days Palermo “Queens”  (don’t ask). Again, good roommate, non moldy bathroom, good location. Perhaps I would have stayed here, but I started to get itchy for my own space, to decorate it as I wished and besides, the couch was hard as rock. I kid you not. You’d go to plop yourself down and it would be like smacking your rear end down on concrete.

So the Persuasion began: how to convince someone that I, a perfectly upstanding, very nice, mostly organized photographer from the USA, would pay rent. The tactic is not to say you’re going to pay rent, but to offer the whole years worth of rent up front. It is as if you’re one-upping the situation. “Yeah I’m gonna pay. And just to prove it to you, here take the WHOLE thing right now!” My mutual funds were languishing anyway, so I decided I could better invest in my sanity here in Argentina and secure my own 33 square meters.

Even paying for a year does not guarantee agents will help. Having a friend, who has a friend, who works in a inmobilaria (rental/sales agency) is what gets agents to listen. Having the money means they’ll actually entertain the idea.

Second Persistence. Now the agents are listening, showing me places, and not just ignoring my phone calls made in Spanish with a bad US accent. Quickly I found a wonderful place: new building, only 4 floors high, with garden in the back, parilla, tub, enough space for me and a cat and even with a balcony. I looked at the agent and trying not to sound too excited, I said “yes, this place might work,” all while wanting to jump up and down. But it wasn’t to be that easy because the agent looks back and says, “you have a garantia right?” Um, no. I’ve already told you that.

Here begins the persistence. I ask if the agent can talk to the owner. She thinks she can do that. I give her a day. I call back to ask. I get forwarded to the architect of the building and owner of the inmobilaria. She says she will talk with the owner. I give her two days. I call back. They are still thinking about it. Will I pay for the year up front. Yes. One year contract okay. Yes. She says she’ll ask again. I give her several more days. I call back. The owner gave a tentative yes, (woo-hoo), but has to check with her husband. Okay. I wait a few more days. I call back. YES, for one year contract and I pay upfront. Okay, no problem. I go in and put down my deposit. We have 15 days to finalize the deal. She is going to email the contract. One week goes by. I call back. Right, the contract. Well, how about a 2 year contract. Huh? Um, okay, why not. What’s the increase. 20% up rent for next year (here’s hoping the dollar stays strong). Set Thursday morning to sign the contract and pay. Wednesday night about 6pm no contract. I call back. Contract emailed.

I arrived Thursday at 11am with a years worth of rent in a brown, nondescript envelop in my purse and with my recently laundered passport. It felt like a deal out of a B-movie. Rent was folded up, 1,000 pesos at a time and I counted out the rent as both the owner and architect watched. We agreeded it was all present. I payed the commision, signed my name on each side of the contract and left with a set of keys to my first apartment in Buenos Aires.

And finally Patience. Patience is what I don’t have some days. Okay, many days. I blame it on some odd Irish heritage. But it is a trait that can be learned. And I am going, without fail, to learn it in Argentina. The country moves at its own pace. Not necessarily a slow pace, but a personal pace. Every clerk at the kiosko, supermarket, mozo at restaurants, cafes, they all have their own pace. Patience means accepting that in Argentina things don’t get done at your pace, but theirs. I chafe with this and can be found occasionally standing on the street with my hands out, palms up, thumbs to ring fingers, arms about waist level… chanting Ohm.

What’s next? I arrive back from Christmas in the states and will have to change the name on the gas and electric bill and find a fridge and maybe a mattress, so I don’t have to sleep on the floor, and a shower curtain definitely, and maybe a pot or pan to cook in and then I’d need utensils, and light fixtures, right light fixtures. There are none in the apartment right now. So after a 25 hour trip from Boulder to Buenos Aires, through NYC with a cat, I will need to buy light fixtures.

ohm…

Magellan, @8y.o. now

UPDATE (Dec. 1, 2008): Yeah! Thanks for the vibes. I just received a call from the architect that the owner of the apartment has decided to a one year contract. Normally contracts in Argentina are two years, but part of sweetening the deal, I offered to pay a full year up front and I my attempt to compensate for lack of garantia apparently worked. This is a good thing about Argentina: rules and standards are negotiable. This is hard for someone from the states to come to terms with actually. I keep wanting to follow the rules and Argentines keep looking at me like I’m nuts. Being flexible is good. Roll with it.

UPDATES (Nov. 27, 2008): Crossing fingers, I should find out today if I have the apartment I wanted and the cat issue may after all be solveable. So here is to good vibes and HAPPY THANKSGIVING.

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What the heck, I thought. Might as well post and see if someone has a stroke of genius because I’m not getting anywhere…

I have two cats. They live with a friend of mine in Southern California right now. I live in Buenos Aires. I am making this move more or less permanent and staying for the foreseeable future (I used to say I was going to stay for 3-5 years until someone told me it sounded a lot like a prison sentence).

This is a two fold dilemma:

Problem 1: first an apartment. I found a place I love. It is small, but all mine and the cats would be fine in it. But, I don’t have a garantia, which is throwing the process for a loop (for those not from Argentina a garantia is when a friend or family member puts their property – which they must own and be inside the province of Buenos Aires – up as collateral that you won’t flake on paying rent.) I’m trying to convince the architect and owner of the apartment that that renting to a very responsible, highly respectable, freelance photographer from the USA, and who is willing to pay a year’s rent up front in a two year lease… is all OKAY…

Solution: A saint comes out of the woodwork and offers to be my garantia… or all your good karma and vibes convinces the owner I am worth renting to. The second seems most likely so vibe away.

Problem 2: Cats will be flying with me out of Denver, through NYC, in winter and because there are two of them and one of me, they must go below the plane. However (always a catch), if the temps are below 20 degrees F then the cats can not fly. Did I mention it was winter… I’m flying out of Denver on January 31.

Solution: I take my chances that the temps won’t be in the danger zone and if they are I’ll have to rebook my ticket until I get lucky enough with the weather or May rolls around, or I find another saint who wants to fly from Denver for a vacation in Buenos Aires. In addition, someone who is willing to go the same flight as me so I can sherpa one of my two cats under their seat and thus spare the kitties from turning into furry popsicles.

Problem 3: (wait… I think I said this was only a two part dilemma) Actually, it is. This problem has nothing to do with apartments, garantias nor cold cats… just thought I’d complain about the nitpickiness of the Argentine visa process: my name on my birth certificate does not have my middle name… my passport does… this is a MAJOR problem… getting it fixed is proving to be a pain in the a.. It’s a long story, but involves line 4, letter F of my divorce document, multiple and rather fruitless phone calls to the County of San Bernardino Supreme Court, the County of San Bernardino Clerks office, and the recorded message on the Boulder County name change line. And, so, here I am, with an unofficial, official middle name.

Ah, venting… Gotta’ love it. On the plus side, I’m looking forward to heading back for xmas… and I’m even looking forward to my 12 hour layover in Atlanta… which reminds me, any recommendations on what to do for 10 hours or so in Atlanta?

cheers.

I have decided to admit the unpopular.

I like Starbucks. Not just the coffee, but the vibe, the lifestyle… the whole marketing kit and caboodle. I am a marketers dream customer.

My coffee addiction aside, the reason why I decided to come here today comes down to the chairs. The big, comfy armchairs. Wide backed, plump cushions in pleasing dark hued tones of black and midnight blue, offset with groups of chaise, lightly patterned in alternating green and beige. These are without arms, but offer the same low to the ground, well padded construction of its brethren.

The matching ottoman, on which I currently support my feet, allowing me to use my legs as my computer desk and rather lazily type from a semi-reclined position often reserved for Sunday afternoons and not mid-day Monday, is a circular shape with pale wooden legs, adding yet more depth. The square chairs, rectangular couch and round ottomans are subtle elements of design complimenting the primary colors in the wall mural. Cleverly avoiding becoming gawdy, or too maudlin, the whole ensemble is set against larger walls of soothing, even ‘coffee’ colored, earthy brown, clay, and rich black accents you expect out of the most proper coffee.

These chairs: armchairs in crushed black velvet, in washable fiber woven together, create a sense of ease and give me a comforting embrace as it envelops my body. The chairs are security and relaxation and ooze a welcome that calls out, “take a moment. have a seat. step outside the hum of the world and watch it pass by for a time.” Indeed, no need to rush. Even when the muffin is done, the last sliver of a walnut fished out of the bottom of the bag, the coffee sipped clean from the cup leaving a few faint remnants as I tip the cup back a few times, higher, head back, going for the last drop, even now, with no more business in this establishment, I can sit in the wide, agreeable armchair.

Lounging as I am, I watch customers speed through, such as Pablo who, with his girl, downs his tall, vanilla latte (as indicated on the side of the trademark white cup) in the span of 10 minutes and hustles out of the armchair across from me. Others in dark suits, customary business white button down shirts, reminding me of the Mormons that used to knock on my door in California, sit knocked kneed, pigeon toed, too straight, with computers heating up their laps. These chairs are not built for business. They are built to repel business. Never would they pass OSHA recommendations.

“A chair that is well-designed and appropriately adjusted is an essential element of a safe and productive computer workstation. A good chair provides necessary support to the back, legs, buttocks, and arms, while reducing exposures to awkward postures, contact stress, and forceful exertions.”(OSHA)

I can claim with authority that I am experiencing no forceful exertion, my legs continue to be fully supported by the ottoman, the wonderful padding below my buttocks is molding to the necessary shape quite easily and I am doing my best to avoid any awkward positions that mimic work. As far as stress, well, I’ve had my coffee (after a day of self-imposed coffee abstinence – and you’ll note it only lasted a day), so the monster headache that was brewing has been averted and I know the world is thankful, although unaware of the danger from which I saved it.

In the science of ergonomics I can’t see how my armchair passes the test for proper popliteal height or buttock popliteal length.  The arm rests are too high and when my feet are on the ground, my knees are higher than the seat. But that does nothing to deter my comfortableness and I am determined to see only the good in this armchair.

For example, if ergonomics tries to find the proper fit between people and their needs at work then perhaps I should consider a career change to something more appropriate. It does not seem neighborly to force the furniture to fit my every need, perhaps instead I should consider the untapped potential of the seat. I could, with little additional education, strive to become an armchair quarterback, an armchair general, an armchair diplomat, an armchair blogger, an armchair psychologist, or an armchair president (I hear that job is opening shortly). In the end however, I am stymied in figuring out how to become an armchair photographer.

Guess it is time to stand up. At least these people will be happy when I do.