Good Air
As flight AA961 began its descent into Buenos Aires, the captain spoke to his tired passengers the words we had been hungry to hear, ¨We´ll be landing in approximately 18 minutes in Buenos Aires.¨ Then he added, ¨Where the current temperature is about 70º and the weather is...well, smokey.¨ Smokey? We asked ourselves. He must mean polution, smog like Los Angeles, the haze produced by the traffic of any big city. Looking out over the city it was clearly think gray the color of the sky when it is about to pour rain. But these were not rainclouds, this was a thick, massive smoke that engulfed Buenos Aires, which translated literally means ¨good air¨in English.
We landed. Stepping off the plane onto the tunnel to the gate I immediately oticed the heat and could feel the smoke in the air. Thick and warm, it reminded me of traveling in Nepal and India. Then we waited in the long slow line for non Argentine citizens, showed our passports, scribbled out names, addresses, reasons for travel, make and model of our cell phones, and declared any goods over $300 (in our case nothing). Outside of customs we met our contact from the 5 Cool Rooms Hotel, a pretty, big boned, friendly woman, with big cleavage and a confidence that showed she was in charge and was there to take care of you. It was comforting in this big unfamilar airport to meet her next to a sign on a tall pole that said ¨Ashley Welch.¨ I went back and forth to the bank teller and another window exchange window and finally figured out the exchange rate (1 dollar equals 2.76 pesos) and then to the ATM to get 200 pesos for our one night stay.
Our driver was a man in his late 60s in a gray suit. Well dressed and friendly like a working class grandfather. Much like my grandfather actually who was a Cambridge bus driver. ¨Blah blah blah fumar blah bñah,¨ said Ashley to the driver, which apparently meant, ¨Where does all the smoke come from?¨ ¨Blah blah blah campos blah,¨ replied our grandfather driver. And then he added the insightful, ¨blah blah blah blah.¨ If there was any doubt before it was now painstakingly clear that my wife is much smarter than me. Somehow she figured out that famers outside of the city were burning the fields where they grew corn. But why?
We drove on from the airport. Big tall buildings to our left that looked like high rise projects, but quite shabby. They looked like slums you might see in Chicago or Nuevo York. Dirty, clothers hanging out of windows, not the romantic image of Argentina I held in my mind, but of course poverty is everywhere. I mentioned to Ashley that it would be interesting to spend some time in each country we visted to meet with people addressing homelessness. I had studied homelessness extensively in Hungary, the Netherlands, and Belgium in 2002 as part of an Eisenhower Fellowship I had received. It was a great learning experience for me to see what about homelessness was common to the western (and central Europe) world and what was uniquly American. I noticed what influence the United States had in those countries some of concerning and some worth celebrating. On one hand, there was evidence of American culture: MTV in Hungary for example. Music and blue jeans and an appreciation of the dream of freedom and openness in the U.S. On the I saw influence of a market economy in Hungary, who was going through political change after economic change for a people who were hungry fro stability. The inluence of the America economy was evident, as it also was at the European Union where I met with members of parliament and some EU mid level administrators. Promte private business, help Europe compete globally, less public assistance <>. When the ¨political change¨came to Hungary, that is after the fall of the Soviet Union and the resultant change in government in 1989 in Hungary to a market economy and democratically elected government, change came fast. Housing owned by the government was bought for a song by the communist local government leaders, and rented at market rates which were quite expensive. Government factories often had worker housing, both of which were closed down the result being a lack of low skilled labor and housing. Housing prices--for sale and for rent--was at a premium. Combine this with no history of homeless services (homelessness was illegal in communist Hungary so there was not tradition of non government associations )NGOs) or a civil sector. That has changed ince 1989 but there was a lot of catch up and homelessness exploded in Budapest. Yet despite the explosion and remarkable conditions that contributed to such homelessness, the rates of homelessness (the percentage of homeless people inthe general population) were alost identical to that of my home city, Boston. Boston is one of the cities historically ¨better¨at dealing with homelessness. And yet the same rates of homelessness as Budapest with all of its change. Budapest had no homeless veterans. In the U.S., 1 in 4 American homeless men are homeless-- a sober reminder in present wartime America as more and more Iraqi War veterans come home with post traumatic stres disorder (PTSD), which can lead to isloation, detachment, depression, ubstance abuse, and homelessmess. The U.S. military is much better at identifying PTSD than during the Vietnam War, yet still war permenantly marks soldiers and their families and the results can include homelessness.
We checked into our boutique hotel in Buenos Aires, ¨5 Cool Rooms.¨ (We like ¨boutique¨ anything. Interaction Associates where Ashley works is described as a boutique training and consulting firm. Its supposed to imply really high end but not so tacky as a huge soul-less corporate culture firm, or a huge hotel. No. Clearly we are more sophisticated than other people, but not pretentous. The term reminds me of David Brooks´s book, Bobo´s In Paradise. Aanyway, there are more than 5 rooms here and they are only cool if you are into what I liek to call East German chic circa 1980. That is sparse, cold hard floor, nothing on the walls, and in the corner--this says it all I think--a tall glass vase with a dead tree coming out. Not exacyl warm and inviting to my taste, but clearly modern and hip.
After a shower, a little frisky time--hey we haven´t been away alone for more than 3 days in 10 years--and a quick nap were out to explore the neighborhood of Palermo and then meet Beth and Bob at their apartment and dinner out.
We exited the 5 Cool Rooms and took a left down Honduras Ave. towards the Plaza. The air was warm and thick and the pace was slow everything was comfortable and inviting. Every street vendor seemed to have cool handmade items that said things like one world, or>. We picked up a T shirt for my 9 moth old nephew Jack that reads, "El Mundo...." . (His mother, my sister Kathleen, has speant 6 months in Buenos Aires in 2000 so we thought it was perfect.) But perhaps more striking was the people. Every 2 out of three women looked like models. Healthy, friendly, cool, dressed really sexy but tasteful. The guys too. They all looked like cool artist, bohemians, good looking, friendly. Mrs. C would have loved this place, not to mention the Fonz. Every open restaraunt we passed looked more hip and inviting than the previous. Nothing pretentious, just cool.
We got some flowers and took a cab to our Bob and Beth´s and arrived on time at 7pm. We met Bob and Beth through Ashley´s father Wilford and his Carole. They new the couple in northern California through the Institute of Noetic Sciences, a new agy, global looking outdoorsy group that Beth´s dad used to lead in San Francisco, and through Barbara and Galen Rowell. Barbara and Galen are renowned photogaphers and expedioners. Bob is Galen´s brother. I had known the name Galen Rowell for some time because of Wilford. When I first met Wilford, when Ashley and I started dating, he was recently divorced from Del, my mother-in-law, and living in an apartment in Cambridge on the corner of Fairweather and ____ Streets>. It was a great apartment that we stayed at when he was away. The first thing one noticed when you walked into the apartment was a giant, stunning, photograph of K2, the decond tallest mountain in the world. Wilford was proud to sahre that it was print just for him from his good friend, Galen Rowell. The name time in my life, the unique name, and the powerful photo all mixed to leave a surreal impression in my mind whenever I heard the name Galen Rowell. But I knkew little of him.
We checked in with the security guard, and took the elevator up to the 7th floor to Bob and Beth´s apartment. Instantly likd them. Down to earth and very welcoming. From Trucke, <> CAlifornia, they decided to go with their two daughters to Argentina for 1 years. Its now become 4.
As flight AA961 began its descent into Buenos Aires, the captain spoke to his tired passengers the words we had been hungry to hear, ¨We´ll be landing in approximately 18 minutes in Buenos Aires.¨ Then he added, ¨Where the current temperature is about 70º and the weather is...well, smokey.¨ Smokey? We asked ourselves. He must mean polution, smog like Los Angeles, the haze produced by the traffic of any big city. Looking out over the city it was clearly think gray the color of the sky when it is about to pour rain. But these were not rainclouds, this was a thick, massive smoke that engulfed Buenos Aires, which translated literally means ¨good air¨in English.
We landed. Stepping off the plane onto the tunnel to the gate I immediately oticed the heat and could feel the smoke in the air. Thick and warm, it reminded me of traveling in Nepal and India. Then we waited in the long slow line for non Argentine citizens, showed our passports, scribbled out names, addresses, reasons for travel, make and model of our cell phones, and declared any goods over $300 (in our case nothing). Outside of customs we met our contact from the 5 Cool Rooms Hotel, a pretty, big boned, friendly woman, with big cleavage and a confidence that showed she was in charge and was there to take care of you. It was comforting in this big unfamilar airport to meet her next to a sign on a tall pole that said ¨Ashley Welch.¨ I went back and forth to the bank teller and another window exchange window and finally figured out the exchange rate (1 dollar equals 2.76 pesos) and then to the ATM to get 200 pesos for our one night stay.
Our driver was a man in his late 60s in a gray suit. Well dressed and friendly like a working class grandfather. Much like my grandfather actually who was a Cambridge bus driver. ¨Blah blah blah fumar blah bñah,¨ said Ashley to the driver, which apparently meant, ¨Where does all the smoke come from?¨ ¨Blah blah blah campos blah,¨ replied our grandfather driver. And then he added the insightful, ¨blah blah blah blah.¨ If there was any doubt before it was now painstakingly clear that my wife is much smarter than me. Somehow she figured out that famers outside of the city were burning the fields where they grew corn. But why?
We drove on from the airport. Big tall buildings to our left that looked like high rise projects, but quite shabby. They looked like slums you might see in Chicago or Nuevo York. Dirty, clothers hanging out of windows, not the romantic image of Argentina I held in my mind, but of course poverty is everywhere. I mentioned to Ashley that it would be interesting to spend some time in each country we visted to meet with people addressing homelessness. I had studied homelessness extensively in Hungary, the Netherlands, and Belgium in 2002 as part of an Eisenhower Fellowship I had received. It was a great learning experience for me to see what about homelessness was common to the western (and central Europe) world and what was uniquly American. I noticed what influence the United States had in those countries some of concerning and some worth celebrating. On one hand, there was evidence of American culture: MTV in Hungary for example. Music and blue jeans and an appreciation of the dream of freedom and openness in the U.S. On the I saw influence of a market economy in Hungary, who was going through political change after economic change for a people who were hungry fro stability. The inluence of the America economy was evident, as it also was at the European Union where I met with members of parliament and some EU mid level administrators. Promte private business, help Europe compete globally, less public assistance <
We checked into our boutique hotel in Buenos Aires, ¨5 Cool Rooms.¨ (We like ¨boutique¨ anything. Interaction Associates where Ashley works is described as a boutique training and consulting firm. Its supposed to imply really high end but not so tacky as a huge soul-less corporate culture firm, or a huge hotel. No. Clearly we are more sophisticated than other people, but not pretentous. The term reminds me of David Brooks´s book, Bobo´s In Paradise. Aanyway, there are more than 5 rooms here and they are only cool if you are into what I liek to call East German chic circa 1980. That is sparse, cold hard floor, nothing on the walls, and in the corner--this says it all I think--a tall glass vase with a dead tree coming out. Not exacyl warm and inviting to my taste, but clearly modern and hip.
After a shower, a little frisky time--hey we haven´t been away alone for more than 3 days in 10 years--and a quick nap were out to explore the neighborhood of Palermo and then meet Beth and Bob at their apartment and dinner out.
We exited the 5 Cool Rooms and took a left down Honduras Ave. towards the Plaza. The air was warm and thick and the pace was slow everything was comfortable and inviting. Every street vendor seemed to have cool handmade items that said things like one world, or
We got some flowers and took a cab to our Bob and Beth´s and arrived on time at 7pm. We met Bob and Beth through Ashley´s father Wilford and his Carole. They new the couple in northern California through the Institute of Noetic Sciences, a new agy, global looking outdoorsy group that Beth´s dad used to lead in San Francisco, and through Barbara and Galen Rowell. Barbara and Galen are renowned photogaphers and expedioners. Bob is Galen´s brother. I had known the name Galen Rowell for some time because of Wilford. When I first met Wilford, when Ashley and I started dating, he was recently divorced from Del, my mother-in-law, and living in an apartment in Cambridge on the corner of Fairweather and ____ Streets
We checked in with the security guard, and took the elevator up to the 7th floor to Bob and Beth´s apartment. Instantly likd them. Down to earth and very welcoming. From Trucke, <
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