I haven’t posted at all this week, mainly because I haven’t really done anything postworthy, but something happened last night I wanted to tell you about. In its way it was kind of funny, but I know you might also be a bit uncomfortable about it, so I thought I’d explain.
You may know (or you may not, because the rest of the world doesn’t really pay much attention to Argentina), but this country is currently going through difficult times. The economy is in shambles and the currency is worth a fraction of what it was a year ago. This, of course, results in hardship for many, and there are more homeless and hungry people than before. I live in a fairly ritzy part of town, and I think they must feel more comfortable here, so you often see people sleeping on the street.
Argentina seems to go through this every ten years or so, and always gets through it. So we all hope for the best and try to be patient.
What I wanted to show you, though, was the difference in society’s attitude towards these less fortunate souls. I know that in Canada, for example, if anyone were to sneak into an ordinary family restaurant and try to sell pencils or something, they would quickly be shown the door. Not so here though. As long as they are not bothering people or being obnoxious, they’ll be allowed to do what they can to make a few pesos. Some patrons won’t buy, but many do. I’ve often bought tissues or small notebooks this way. I’ve even seen waiters buy things from them. (I always buy my socks from a guy on the train when I’m going to Olivos to visit Cecilia!)
Another thing you’ll see is when someone (usually kids but not always) walks by an outdoor eating area and sees leftover bread or such, they will often ask if they can have it, and people inevitably say yes. So that’s the background to what happened to me last night.
I had gone out for dinner to a local parilla, or steak house, and was given a table at the front of the outdoor area, overlooking the street — great for people watching. I ordered medallions of lomo (filet mignon) and, as usual, there was far too much food for me. I ate the first medallion and part of the second one, but I just couldn’t manage any more. I might have taken it home, but it wasn’t done quite as well as I’d like for that, so I left it on my plate, together with some potatoes, and pushed it away. I planned to sit for a while and enjoy the rest of my wine.
Along came a young man, probably in his thirties. He didn’t look exactly homeless, but obviously pretty close. He was quite pleasant looking though, and when he eyed my plate and asked if he could have the leftover, I nodded. He took a roll out of the bread basket, split it and put the piece of steak in it. I thought he would walk away, but no! When he saw there was more food on the plate, he pulled it over and sat down! “OK,” I thought, “now I have company for dinner!”
He vacuumed up the food hungrily, but funnily enough with quite nice table manners. I asked him if it was good and he nodded enthusiastically. Then he began to chat. Asked me the usual question about where I was from, and told me he hated his country and wanted to go to America, but had no money.
When the food was almost done, he leaned towards me conspiratorially and said, “Do you want to come to my bed?”
I leaned forward and politely replied, “No, thank you.” He shrugged and carried on mopping up the sauce with the last roll. I think he just felt he had to offer something in return and that’s all he had!
Finally, he finished the food, while I was still drinking my wine. He placed the cutlery correctly on the plate, wiped his mouth with my napkin, stood up and pushed his chair in. He thanked me very politely and wished me goodnight. As the people at the next table were watching with interest, he wished them goodnight too and went on his way.
I have no idea what his story is or how he came to be hungry, but somehow having him share my table and my food was quite an Argentine moment. Neither of us was the least bit uncomfortable, and I’m glad I could fill his belly at least for a wee while.