CD?

So, yesterday I went to a "chino" (this is what they call supermarkets here because almost all are run by asians. It isn't important that most of the asians aren't Chinese. Calling them Chinese is just a super easy and convenient stereotype. Oh, also, all the crime is caused by Peruvians, because, hell, there is another easy scapegoat. My host dad tells me to watch out for Peruvians because they are crazy and will rob me blind. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I don't have the cultural sensibility to tell Peruvians and Argentines apart by sight, let alone accent.) Anyways, back to the chino. I went to one down the street to buy a card to recharge my cell phone. The phones here are like track phones in the US, just much much more expensive. I walked into the place and there was nobody at the counter, seeing as how the owner, a "chino" was outside smoking a cigarette. Well, he took his sweet time to return and sat down at the register. I asked him, in Spanish, "si tiene una tarjeta de Claro para cargar mi movil," that is, if he had a Claro card to charge my cell phone with. He turns around and opens up a carton of CDs and places one on the counter. He asks me if I want a case. I tell him that I don't want a CD, I want a card to put money on my cell phone. He looks at me confused and then with a look of great surprise says "Ohhhhhh, una tarjeta!" Yes, a card. CD and Tarjeta sound quite drastically different in Spanish. Maybe he is just learning too.

Either way, I hopped on a bus and went to the Feria de los Mataderos yesterday. I giant cultural fair in the southern part of the city. When we arrived it was, of course, closed. As my luck getting into events here is quite poor. But we found this busy little pizza joint nearby that had no tables, just a bar, and a very pleasant and talkative old man named Rodrigo behind the counter. My friend Lauren goes up to the counter and orders us a pizza, some faina (a polenta like substance made out of chickpeas in the shape of a pizza) and a litre of beer. Halfway through the meal the owner sends us another leader of beer on the house. He proceeds to talk to us about the "golden days" of Argentina when there was little crime and the city was beautiful. He said that those days are long gone and crime and filth are rampant. Sounds like the diatribe of an aging man trying to cling to the past. However, I think him comments have some truth to them. Apparently this city used to be very very safe. You could walk the streets alone at night at 6 or 7 AM and be just fine. They don't recommend that anymore. The Peruvians will getcha.

Anyways, Rodrigo tells us that he hopes that we don't think all Argentines are bad people, that the employees and himself are not bad people, and that we have a good experience here and leave with a good impression of the place. So, upon leaving, we go to pay (which would be a roughly 37 peso meal) and he shows us what we owe him on a calculator by typing a zero on the screen. We are, of course, confused at first, until he tells us that we owe him nothing, because he wants us to return to the US and tell everyone about the beauty of Argentina. He says all of this with tears in his eyes. Gives us all the traditional kiss on the cheek. We say goodbye and leave dumbfounded. I read that Argentines were extremely friendly and welcoming of strangers. I guess I just saw one at his best!