A Lighter Look At Argentine and Chilean Culture
Alright, enough with the Armchair Anthropology and attempts at serious cultural observation. I've been traveling in Argentina and Chile for nearly a month now, and the following are some of the funnier observations, situations, and actual conversations that I've encountered in that time.
* Below is an actual conversation between me and a Maitre d' at a restaurant on Cerro Florida in Valparaiso, Chile (translated from Spanish).
Me: Hello.
Maitre d': Hello.
Me: Is it possible to eat dinner here?
Maitre d': No. I'm sorry. It is not possible.
Me: Oh. Okay. (Awkward pause) But I see other people eating inside.
Maitre d': Yes.
Me: But you are not open for dinner?
Maitre d': No.
Me: But it's 6:00pm.
Maitre d': Yes.
Me: And you're telling me you are closed?
Maitre d': No. We are open.
Me: So I can eat here.
Maitre d': Of course. It is a restaurant.
Me: But I just asked you if I could eat here.
Maitre d': You asked if you could eat dinner. We are only serving lunch now.
Me: May I eat lunch?
Maitre d': Certainly. Right this way, sir.
(Moments later)
Waiter: You are here for lunch, yes?
Me: I just want to eat.
*Chileans are known for being bad at giving directions. In Chile, if someone tells you a place is two blocks away, it is surely between four and 10 blocks away. When trying to locate a particular establishment, you are best served to ask about five different people, and then cross-reference the directions against each other, and find the common ground. Like the way sailors used Dead Reckoning at sea. It is an imprecise science, but eventually you get somewhere near where you wanted to go.
*Argentines are the same way with time. Everything in Argentina seems to happen "Every 20 minutes." When does the bus come? Every 20 minutes. You get the idea... However, that same 20 minutes can be anywhere between two minutes and not at all, but it will surely arrive the minute you turn your back.
*Change is a big problem in Argentina, and by that I mean coins, or what they refer to here as "moneda." For some strange reason, which literally no one seems to understand, there is a shortage of coins in Argentina. Meaning you are always encouraged to have exact change when making purchases. The cashiers at stores with lots of traffic, like big grocery stores and retail stores, will usually let you off the hook with a brief "huff," and a droop of the shoulders. However, at convenience stores, magazine kiosks, some restaurants and bars, and especially taxis, you will encounter a great deal of resistance if you do not present exact change. It is so bad, that sometimes you cannot even pay for a $2.50 purchase with a $5 peso bill. And forget trying to pay for anything under $10 peso with a $20.
This is especially a problem for foreigners, because the ATMs all dispense the larger bills, like $100s (which is only about $35 U.S.). A $100 peso bill is so big it is almost worthless. This means anytime you go to an ATM in Argentina, you have to take out three separate transactions of $90 pesos each, that way you get a variety of bills, instead of just three $100 peso bills, which will basically render you as broke as if you had no money at all.
*You will never be asked to leave a café or a restaurant, and usually you will not even be prompted to pay. This seems to apply to both Argentina and Chile. I have sat at outdoor cafés until my ass went numb, sometimes just to push the limits of this theory, and still, I was never asked to leave. It was never even suggested. Nor was I even asked to pay. The most the waiter did was put the bill on my table, but nothing more. In Santiago I was seated alone at a six person table at a busy pizza restaurant. There were groups of other diners sitting at smaller tables, some even waiting around for seats to open up, and still I was not asked to change seats. I even suggested it, and was met with a polite refusal. Yes, here there is respect for the customer.
*Here they love sports, and the sport they love best is soccer; otherwise and perhaps better known as futbol. This is taken very seriously. If you think we are loyal to our sports teams in the U.S., come down here and you will see true loyalty. In the U.S., there are cities in which you will be sometimes be mildly at risk if you go to a game with the visiting team's jersey on. Down here, you are absolutely warned against wearing the colors of either team if you are a foreigner. Best just to wear some kind of neutral grey or brown or something.
Most club games take place on Sunday afternoons, but you can't watch them on T.V. unless you have Pay-per-View. If you do turn on your T.V. set you will be treated to a play-by-play announcement of the game, while the camera shoots only the crowd. So you will be watching the crowd while listening to the game. I discovered this strange phenomenon the hard way, by tuning in to the Boca v. San Lorenzo game a few weeks ago, and watching the camera pan over the crowd for about 20 minutes, making a survey of all of the more ample-breasted female attendees. Maybe for that reason it took me a few moments to realize the actual game wasn't coming on, but when I did, it was disappointing.
Because of this, instead of watching at home most men here go to cafés to watch. There they sit in almost complete silence, sipping on a beer or a coffee or whatever they have in front of them. Their attention is focused completely on the game. When the half is over, they rise, smoke, and return to their seats. When the game is over, they hustle out the door and the place is cleared within 30 seconds.
* Below is an actual conversation between me and a Maitre d' at a restaurant on Cerro Florida in Valparaiso, Chile (translated from Spanish).
Me: Hello.
Maitre d': Hello.
Me: Is it possible to eat dinner here?
Maitre d': No. I'm sorry. It is not possible.
Me: Oh. Okay. (Awkward pause) But I see other people eating inside.
Maitre d': Yes.
Me: But you are not open for dinner?
Maitre d': No.
Me: But it's 6:00pm.
Maitre d': Yes.
Me: And you're telling me you are closed?
Maitre d': No. We are open.
Me: So I can eat here.
Maitre d': Of course. It is a restaurant.
Me: But I just asked you if I could eat here.
Maitre d': You asked if you could eat dinner. We are only serving lunch now.
Me: May I eat lunch?
Maitre d': Certainly. Right this way, sir.
(Moments later)
Waiter: You are here for lunch, yes?
Me: I just want to eat.
*Chileans are known for being bad at giving directions. In Chile, if someone tells you a place is two blocks away, it is surely between four and 10 blocks away. When trying to locate a particular establishment, you are best served to ask about five different people, and then cross-reference the directions against each other, and find the common ground. Like the way sailors used Dead Reckoning at sea. It is an imprecise science, but eventually you get somewhere near where you wanted to go.
*Argentines are the same way with time. Everything in Argentina seems to happen "Every 20 minutes." When does the bus come? Every 20 minutes. You get the idea... However, that same 20 minutes can be anywhere between two minutes and not at all, but it will surely arrive the minute you turn your back.
*Change is a big problem in Argentina, and by that I mean coins, or what they refer to here as "moneda." For some strange reason, which literally no one seems to understand, there is a shortage of coins in Argentina. Meaning you are always encouraged to have exact change when making purchases. The cashiers at stores with lots of traffic, like big grocery stores and retail stores, will usually let you off the hook with a brief "huff," and a droop of the shoulders. However, at convenience stores, magazine kiosks, some restaurants and bars, and especially taxis, you will encounter a great deal of resistance if you do not present exact change. It is so bad, that sometimes you cannot even pay for a $2.50 purchase with a $5 peso bill. And forget trying to pay for anything under $10 peso with a $20.
This is especially a problem for foreigners, because the ATMs all dispense the larger bills, like $100s (which is only about $35 U.S.). A $100 peso bill is so big it is almost worthless. This means anytime you go to an ATM in Argentina, you have to take out three separate transactions of $90 pesos each, that way you get a variety of bills, instead of just three $100 peso bills, which will basically render you as broke as if you had no money at all.
*You will never be asked to leave a café or a restaurant, and usually you will not even be prompted to pay. This seems to apply to both Argentina and Chile. I have sat at outdoor cafés until my ass went numb, sometimes just to push the limits of this theory, and still, I was never asked to leave. It was never even suggested. Nor was I even asked to pay. The most the waiter did was put the bill on my table, but nothing more. In Santiago I was seated alone at a six person table at a busy pizza restaurant. There were groups of other diners sitting at smaller tables, some even waiting around for seats to open up, and still I was not asked to change seats. I even suggested it, and was met with a polite refusal. Yes, here there is respect for the customer.
*Here they love sports, and the sport they love best is soccer; otherwise and perhaps better known as futbol. This is taken very seriously. If you think we are loyal to our sports teams in the U.S., come down here and you will see true loyalty. In the U.S., there are cities in which you will be sometimes be mildly at risk if you go to a game with the visiting team's jersey on. Down here, you are absolutely warned against wearing the colors of either team if you are a foreigner. Best just to wear some kind of neutral grey or brown or something.
Most club games take place on Sunday afternoons, but you can't watch them on T.V. unless you have Pay-per-View. If you do turn on your T.V. set you will be treated to a play-by-play announcement of the game, while the camera shoots only the crowd. So you will be watching the crowd while listening to the game. I discovered this strange phenomenon the hard way, by tuning in to the Boca v. San Lorenzo game a few weeks ago, and watching the camera pan over the crowd for about 20 minutes, making a survey of all of the more ample-breasted female attendees. Maybe for that reason it took me a few moments to realize the actual game wasn't coming on, but when I did, it was disappointing.
Because of this, instead of watching at home most men here go to cafés to watch. There they sit in almost complete silence, sipping on a beer or a coffee or whatever they have in front of them. Their attention is focused completely on the game. When the half is over, they rise, smoke, and return to their seats. When the game is over, they hustle out the door and the place is cleared within 30 seconds.
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