Sometimes people ask me how I would describe the Argentine people, and I would definitely say “warm” (besos, anyone?). I would also say “vocal.” The reason I say Argentinians are vocal is because they aren’t afraid to share their opinions and stand up for what they believe in. I’ve seen this many times throughout the year through two common occurrences here: calle cortada and paro.
“Calle cortada” means “cut street” and is used to refer to when traffic cannot get through because of some blockage or another. Sometimes this is due to road work, but more often than not, it’s because there’s some sort of demonstration in the street. These demonstrations can be about any number of things. While I’ve been here, there have been demonstrations for femicide and legalizing abortion, for example.
I don’t know how many times I’ve run into this over the course of my year, but it’s been enough that it’s no longer surprising when it happens. As you know, I live in La Plata, Buenos Aires’s little sister. When Buenos Aires became the federal capital, they had to choose another city to be the capital of Buenos Aires province, and La Plata was the lucky winner. This means La Plata has a lot of government and bureaucratic buildings. Because of where I live in La Plata, the route I have to take to get to and from Compartiendo un Sueño, if there’s a demonstration, I almost certainly can’t avoid it; I have to take Avenida 7, one of the main thoroughfares of La Plata, past Plaza San Martín, the main plaza of La Plata, and many government buildings (in other words, prime sites for protests). Just a few weeks ago, I was walking to the bus stop to go to CuS when I had to turn around and go home because it was calle cortada and there was no way for me to know where to go to pick up the bus on its route avoiding that stretch of Avenida 7. If I’m on the bus coming back from CuS, and we run into calle cortada, I just have to get off on the next street over and walk a few extra blocks.
“Paro” means “strike.” The most common strikes I’ve seen are in transportation (as is the case in many parts of the world). In March, however, many public schools began the school year a few days late because teachers were on strike fighting for better pay. Below are pictures from when we talked about the importance of the teachers’ strike with the kids at CuS and made signs for the CuS founder to take with her to the protest:
Marco: Teachers should make more because they work a lot. Their work is important because they teach.
Magno: Teachers are important because they teach children.
Ariana: Teachers are teaching us even while they’re in the streets protesting.
Gabi: Fighting for teachers is fighting for the future.
Fiorela: Teachers’ time isn’t irrelevant; it matters.
Agus & Male: We support teachers fighting for their rights.
I don’t necessarily think the rate if paros is higher here than in other places throughout the country, but I do think it has a higher rate of calle cortada (although not higher than in Buenos Aires capital) due to all of the young people from the university mobilizing. In fact, La Plata has a history of social activism along with Buenos Aires capital as it was one of the places hit hardest by the military dictatorship (1976-83).
I’m not going to lie, calle cortada and paro interrupt my life. They’re another thing about my life here that make it nearly impossible to keep a “schedule” (#subjecttochange). I used to get so frustrated when I’d have to get off the bus on an unfamiliar street an extra five to eight blocks from home because it was calle cortada and the bus couldn’t get through to my stop. My frustration was partially due to the fact that I was generally overwhelmed and exhausted by everything and craving the safe, quiet solitude of my bedroom where I could replenish my severely depleted energy reserves and partially because I felt I’d been robbed of yet another moment of feeling “in control” when those moments were so few and far between to begin with. Not to mention the panic I would feel in those days when I was still learning my way around and the thought of having to navigate a previously uncharted route home sent my sympathetic nervous system into overdrive. Just the other week, I was at CuS when my co informed me that there might be calle cortada when I got back into La Plata because there was supposed to be a demonstration. On the bus home, as I made a plan for how I was going to get the rest of the way home safely in the dark, I thought about how glad I was this was happening now when I’d developed the skills to handle it instead of earlier in the year when I would’ve been terrified. Needless to say, I’ve now grown accustomed to this as a fact of life and now, most of my frustration comes from the fact that I always feel like I’m the last to know: like feriados, unless one of the girls I live with or someone at CuS or San Timoteo mention it, I have no idea it’s coming!
But if I’m being honest, at the beginning of the year, calle cortada and paro had the power to make me hopping mad. Like, “I don’t have time for this shit” mad. When I realized that my frustration was coming from a place of feeling inconvenienced, I also realized I needed an attitude adjustment. Yeah, I was being inconvenienced. That’s the whole point: the peaceful protest is meant to cause a disruption to draw attention to issues that matter and hopefully spark change. But this whole time, my American value of efficiency was rearing an ugly head. I don’t think efficiency is inherently bad, but I definitely saw that part of my cultural iceberg crashing up against a value that is antithetical to my own and had to deal with the aftershocks of that crash.
Now that I’m more used to calle cortada and paro and have evolved to sustain more fluidity and flexibility in my day-to-day life, I can see both calle cortada and paro as beautiful expressions of social activism. They are signs that the people of Argentina believe in justice and a better life, and they are willing to raise their voices and fight for their rights and beliefs. Sure, I’m still not thrilled that my day and my plans get disrupted, but I am thrilled to see such social consciousness here. Having my day interrupted by calle cortada and paro is a reminder that we are all connected. Sometimes I have the privilege to disconnect and not worry about certain things because they “don’t affect me personally” while others have no choice: they cannot look away. When my day is interrupted, I am jolted in my privilege, and even if just for a few minutes, I cannot look away either. Calle cortada and paro remind us that when we take care of one another, we all live better.
❤ Gabriela
We Are the Dreamers of Dreams 