A word about garbage - and cartoneros

Garbage is a problem for urban areas around the world. City governments burn the stuff or haul it many kilometres away (it's always better in someone else's backyard). Many cities encourage composting and recycling and Canadian cities are often seen as star players in that field. In BA, they tried recycling a few years ago. It didn't work.


In some areas of this city there exists wealthy neighbourhoods where garbage is not a factor. By that I mean that there is some level of discreet removal of garbage from the neighbourhood.







Throughout most of this wonderful city however garbage collects on the streets. Usually at intersections, but not always. In front of cafes, restaurants, apartments, churches and businesses; it doesn't matter. Some areas have large dumpsters which eliminates some of the unsightliness of the whole thing, except for the dumpster itself of course.











In other areas, like our neighbourhood for example, and ours is not a poor barrio by any means, refuse is usually left at corners, or along the street. Portenos are not unruly or messy with their garbage; most often it is deposited neatly kerbside in plastic bags.







Garbage trucks seem to roam the city at all hours of the day and night, picking up garbage left by individuals and businesses alike. But for much of the day, and this goes on nearly every day, the garbage collects.




As the sun sets thousands of cartoneros (literally: cardboard persons) descend on the city, from poorer barrios in the Province, and sift through the garbage. These cartoneros are displaced from the economic life of the nation. In some instances they were middle class and educated people, perhaps former teachers, factory workers or business people, who have fallen into a desperate poverty. Cartoneros look for anything of value. They open the garbage bags and sift through them, sorting the garbage into categories: plastic drink boxes for example, glass and cardboard for another. They work at night, quietly and efficiently, filtering the garbage, taking what they can use or sell, and, for the most part, neatly leaving the rest in the original plastic bags for the official garbage trucks.





The large canvas bags are used by cartoneros to haul their stuff to various middlemen or depots to be sold. The canvas bags are placed on carros (wagons on wheels).









Cartoneros exist around the world and are known by different names. In Canada we have binners, dumpster divers and bottle collectors (which seems a gentler and less offensive term, though the work is the same).





Here in Buenos Aires, their numbers have been estimated to be as high as 40,000. Recent estimates suggest a number nearer 10,000 but no one knows for certain. In BA cartoneros usually work in family groups, including young children, which is a serious concern for the government. Efforts have been made by Federal and City governments to formalize the process and improve conditions for the collectors, but progress has been slow. Some now work in a cooperative and that has improved situations remarkably. No one doubts the value cartoneros provide the city through their recycling efforts, and residents in my neighbourhood certainly seem respectful, but this is dangerous and difficult work, and it is disturbing to witness. No one should have to sift through my garbage.

Honouring writers

Throughout Buenos Aires, and indeed across Argentina, there are many statues of important persons. Some are famous leaders of a military, political or religious background. Some are quite large and imposing.
















In el Rosedal, the famous and wonderful rose garden in Palermo, there are fifteen busts honouring writers: poets, authors and playwrights from around the world.






There are a number, including, Casona and Shakespeare, among others.













































And she isn't even dead yet.

Pope Francis is a hands-on kind of guy

According to La Nacion, the Pope cancelled his newspaper subscription, personally.

Archbishop Bergoglio was a regular patron of a newspaper kiosk in central Buenos Aires. Six days a week he picked up his copy of La Nacion early every morning, usually before six.

Around 1:30 p.m. on March 18, Daniel Del Regno, the kiosk owner’s son, answered the phone and heard a voice say, “Hi Daniel, it’s Cardinal Jorge.” He thought that maybe a friend who knew that the former archbishop of Buenos Aires bought the newspaper from them every day was pulling a prank on him. He reprimanded the caller.

“Seriously, it’s Jorge Bergoglio, I’m calling you from Rome,” the pope insisted.

“I was in shock, I broke down in tears and didn’t know what to say,” Del Regno told La Nacion. “He thanked me for delivering the paper all this time and sent best wishes to my family.”

Daniel Del Regno said he had asked Cardinal Bergoglio before he left for Rome if he thought he would be elected in the secret conclave.

"He answered me: 'That is too hot to touch. See you in 20 days, keep delivering the paper.'

The former archbishop had booked a return ticket to Buenos Aires where he was expecting to lead Easter services next weekend.

The Pope is also reported to have demanded he pay his Rome hotel room in person, rather than have Vatican staff do it for him. It's a nice touch, this humble man-of-the-people, hands-on thing, and great imaging. Future book sales will be fantastic.

Photos from La Nacion 

The junta takes control: March 24, 1976

On this day in 1976, a military coup took place in Argentina. The democratically elected Peronist government headed by Isabel Peron was deposed and a military junta installed. The coup had been in the planning for about six months and American agencies had advance knowledge of the event.

At one in the morning, on this day, the President was arrested. By three in the morning all broadcast media were under the junta's control and marching music was played until the official communique was read:

People are advised that from this date, the country is under the operational control of the Joint Chiefs General of the Armed Forces. We recommend to all citizens the strict compliance to the provisions and directives emanating from the military, security or police authorities, and to avoid all individual or group activities that will precipitate drastic intervention from the operating staff.

 (signed) General Jorge Rafael Videla, Admiral Emilio Eduardo Massera and Brigadier Orlando Ramon Agosti.

                                                                                             

People awoke to the news later in the morning. On the front page of Clarin, Argentina's most popular newspaper, people were advised that everything is totally normal. The banner headline reads: The military has taken the government.

Although political repression began before the coup, it gained momentum in the months and years following. At the end of the dictatorship in 1982, over 30,000 citizens were disappeared. In addition, perhaps as many as five hundred children, born to disappeared women, who were kept alive only for the purpose of giving birth, were adopted by members and friends of the military junta.    

In 2002 the federal government declared March 24 the Day of Remembrance for Truth and Justice. The day  became a national public holiday in 2006 and is marked by major official events and massive demonstrations throughout the country.                                                   

Policia - always nearby

Many years ago I visited Colombia. In fairness it was a different time and Colombia was a different place, then. In Colombia I came to fear the police. They were young and arrogant and always fingering the triggers on their sub-machine guns. And they liked to hassle young gringos, like me, then. That fact and witnessing a bunch of uniformed police storm into a bar and take a man into the street and beat him senseless, turned me off South American police for a while.

Here in Buenos Aires, the presence of the police is now comforting to me. To have a police officer walking the beat every block or two throughout this large city is refreshing and appreciated. In Buenos Aires there is almost always an officer nearby. There are problems, and indeed I have heard stories of corruption and brutality, but I have also seen the almost-friendly face of the same officer on my street corner for nearly three months. There is a comfort in that consistency. Once in a while we greet each other, and sometimes he smiles. When there is a problem of some sort, usually for a local shopkeeper, he is involved, and as near as I can tell, in a helpful manner. He was not keen to have his photo taken. Nor was the Riot Squad, but that's another story.

Policing in Buenos Aires is in transition, from a Federal force, to that of what we would call a municipal or regional force. The Policia Federal Argentina, or PFA, operates throughout the entire country, but mainly in the Federal Capital. Its ranks include over 25,000 officers. The Policia Metropolitana de Buenos Aires, was created in 2010 after lengthy political discussion and argument between the Federal and  City Governments. It is slowly taking over the policing responsibility for Buenos Aires Ciuadad. Today there are about 1900 in its ranks, and that number will reach about 17,000 when the transition is complete. The model for this new force is Britain's Metropolitan Police, and it is expected to be, if the funding is available, a well trained force using the latest in technology and adopting a zero tolerance policy for abuses within its ranks. The PFA will apparently continue as a national force, albeit a reduced force, possibly along the lines of the American FBI.

While there are many officers, both male and female, walking the beat in Buenos Aires, others sometimes appear on horses, some on bicycles or motorcycles, and of course, in cars. For reasons unfathomable to me, and to my queries unanswered, police cars always have their blue lights flashing. It seems to be standard police procedure in Argentina. They aren't in a hurry and they don't seem to be going anywhere in particular. There certainly aren't any donut shops in this city. It's as if they want to warn people, perhaps even the very people they might actually want to apprehend or catch in some kind of illegal activity, of their approach. Or maybe this is another example of walking the beat; showing a presence, being accountable and available. And if that's the case, it's a good thing. It might even be good policing.