“The police are more dangerous then the protestors” Luciano said to me as we walked through the streets of Buenos Aires that night in the pouring rain. It never letup, my waterproof jacket helped, I kept the hood tight around my head. But my pants were totally soaked. We should have taken a taxi, but the taxis disappear when it rains. We realized that after waiting 15 minutes on the corner of Florida St.
As we walked to his friend’s cigar shop that was 20 minutes away. Luciano seemed immune to the rain; he didn’t have a hat, and didn’t use the hood on his Jacket. We bobbed and weaved between the wide streets ducking through a mix of gothic and European architecture, it seemed like a ghost town in some areas. People must stay inside when it rains Buenos Aires.
We walked past the congressional building, where only a few days earlier a drunken congresswoman crashed her car into a taxi. A few blocks away from congress a group of about 200 people had gathered to rally in the rain. They were far away from Luciano and I. To far to count and figure out why they were screaming and shouting in the pouring rain. I couldn’t believe it. We paused for a second to watch and I thought out loud, “they must feel passionately about whatever it is…who should I fear more the protestors or the police?”
Luciano turned to me, squinting to keep the rain out of his eyes, slightly hunched over the way people do in the rain “The police are more dangerous then the protestors, protestors have died, police have not.” Then we hustled away. Everywhere you look you see the signs of a revolution a desire for some sort of drastic change.
Later that night Ivan and I met to have dinner. Argentineans have dinner pretty late, this night we sat down at a bar restaurant at 10:30 pm and were eating dinner around 11:00 pm. Ivan introduced me to the bartender who was a fairly attractive young lady, his future ex wife he said. After dinner and during the course of the three of us talking I jokingly said to her “you should come with Ivan to Boston next time” It was really an attempt to hook Ivan up with this girl, but she took it as an opportunity to tell me her “opinion” of America.
Everyone wants to tell me their opinion of America whenever I travel abroad as if I can write down a list of complaints to deliver to the president. What really upset me with this girl and most people who have shared their “opinions” of America with me is that they are truly “blinded” by their hatred for America that a discussion becomes a protest for them. So blind that they are unable to explain why they really dislike America, and that upsets me. Not that they dislike America, hell I see Americas problems everyday of my life. But that they don’t know why they dislike America.
I keep hearing “there is never a reason to go to war” but that is a weak statement. I know enough history to know that while war is always horrible, it is sometimes unavoidable. Had it not been for war I would be a slave today.
This is why I prefer to not get into debates about politics when I travel abroad. I used to joke that when I traveled outside of America I would tell people I was from Canada. It wasn’t really true until Saturday. And I quickly regretted the small lie when I was invited into the cult meeting…
Continue reading ‘I’m not American…’
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