Grown weary of those cliché articles about traveling to South American cities, the stylized descriptions of snazzy hotels and restaurants imitating trends elsewhere? A highly regarded publication out of Virginia, though much under read compared to its glitzy New York counterparts, offers another perspective on the texture of life in South America through an issue devoted entirely to South America in the 21st Century.

The Virginia Quarterly Review consistently publishes some of the best writings around. True to its subheading of being a journal of literature and discussion, this special issue presents both fiction and non-fiction as well as poetry. Note that this special issue is available entirely on the Web and includes six additional online articles not included in the print edition.

This issue, however, does not seek to explicate the first half millennium of the continent’s modern existence, but rather to assess its place now and look toward the future. The essays cover a broad spectrum of topics”“from the scrap cardboard collectors of Buenos Aires to the drug wars and political corruption of Colombia, from the soy farms of the Brazilian Amazon to the riot-seized streets of Caracas, from the boys of Suriname who dream of becoming European soccer stars to the transsexuals of Lima who dream of life on the streets of Paris. In selecting work for this issue, we chose the pieces that compelled our interest and rewarded our repeated readings; in the process, we’ve tried to gather the multiplicity of experiences and voices and histories that comprise this part of the world. Not a complete picture, of course”“such a thing couldn’t be assembled, not in three hundred, or three thousand pages”“but the beginnings of one. We wanted to challenge anachronistic, outdated notions about the continent, offer some insight into the complexity of its nations and peoples who live there.

Co-edited by the Peruvian-born writer Daniel Alarcón, the issue includes some articles originally appearing in etiqueta negra, a wonderfully designed publication out of Peru; those who read Spanish should certainly explore the writings in etiqueta negra, too.

Albinos and the White Train

Readers of this blog may be particularly interested in two articles involving Argentina: Aicuña Is Not an Albino Town and The White Train.

Toño Angulo Daneri, along with photographer Paola de Grenet, traveled to a remote village of three hundred people in La Rioja known for its high rate of albinism. But what they find is something much more revealing, a factor that characterizes many small communities throughout the continent:

Trade, communication, globalization, and other facets of the modern world pose frightening hazards to a village that wants only to be left alone. Aicuña, as I have found it, with boys riding donkeys through the dust, with its lone taxi and its communal telephone, will not survive this century unscathed.

Everyone residing in Buenos Aires or have visited the Argentine capital should be familiar with the struggles of another group of people, the cartoneros. J. Malcolm Garcia takes a ride on The White Train and, along the way, takes a few timely jabs at Macri: “Macri, whose family has a city sanitation contract, has vowed to find \”a definitive solution to the problem of the cartoneros.””

Does Macri want to create a more efficient and humane system for the cartoneros or is he instead protecting the interests of companies with sanitation contracts”“companies such as his own? So far, no cartonero”“or anyone else for that matter”“has demanded answers to this and a much larger question: Is it Macri’s hope to eliminate the cartoneros all together?…

There is one factual error to the article when it refers to Macri’s campaign posters: “He smiles beside his smiling wife and promises va a estar bueno buenos aires.” The unmarried Macri was next to his vice-mayoral candidate Gabriela Michetti. Update: See comment below from the VQR editor explaining how this error came about and that it will be corrected in the online edition.

Included with the article is an excellent documentary The Ghost Train by Gabrielle Weiss that I encourage everyone to view. Even if you live here in Buenos Aires and see the cartoneros out on the streets every night, this little film provides a glimpse into their lives.

Read on

There is much more to this issue of VQR, including a segment on cartoonist Liniers as well as a selection from the late Roberto Bolaño’s Nazi Literature in the Americas. Those interested in Bolaño or literary translation might want to read this interview with Chris Andrews, who also has translated Argentine writer César Aira.

I write this post to the sounds of drums just outside my apartment building on Av Caseros. (It’s not the first time that I’ve been awaken to the sound of drums in the morning). The residents and friends of the building right next door are protesting the high rents and eviction from their homes.

The protest was organized by the Asamblea de San Telmo (part of the larger Asambleas del Pueblo), an organization that often puts up signs around San Telmo describing the living conditions of the neighborhood’s working class residents and the harsh treatment by some landlords.

According to a piece of paper posted to the front of this building, residents were paying $900 pesos a month rent for a 12 square meter apartment. That’s a lot of money for such a small space. Also, the landlords of the various hotels in San Telmo and Barracas that cater to immigrants are referred to as a mafia, even threatening violence against some residents.

These types of practices are really deplorable. For the past couple of years I’ve seen the people who live in this building. They’re obviously not the typical residents of Av Caseros, (journalist Luis Majul lives on this block) and apartments in neighboring buildings are selling for a lot of money. But I’ve never experienced any problems from the people who live in this building.

Are they treated fairly? Their rent ($900 pesos) is the same as what one would pay for a nice apartment in the neighborhood but, I assume, that residents of these hotels do not have the garantías needed to rent a real apartment. Where is affordable rental housing for the working class residents of Buenos Aires? Where is the current housing for the masses? Those are not rhetorical questions. I really don’t know but seemingly there must be housing problems for this class of city residents or otherwise they would not be living in these hotels. And who is behind this mafia controlling the immigrant hotels and taken buildings?

Mixed Feelings

Despite my concerns for the plight of the working class, I certainly understand why the owner of this building wants the residents to leave. It could be a really nice building and is sandwiched between two very nice apartment buildings. With renovation the owner stands to make a lot of money from the apartments. While I’ve not been on the interior, the building actually seems to be in better shape than a lot of similar buildings.

And I assume that the building is historically protected and cannot be demolished for a modern tower. (But, I’m not sure since this side of Av Caseros is actually Barracas and not San Telmo). I don’t want to enter this building in my city that fades away series.

So, I hope that these people can find a decent place to live and that this historic building will be saved, renovated, and find a new set of tenants.

Cutting the street

The protesters decided to move from the front of the building and block the intersection of Bolivar and Caseros, a fairly busy corner. The buses had to turn around but otherwise no one really seemed to have noticed this morning’s demonstration on Caseros. The police arrived, stood by quietly, and redirected traffic….just another Thursday morning in Buenos Aires.

Update, January 2008: Nothing has changed. The tenants are still living in this house. No more protesting but the banners still hang wearily from the windows.

…against the side of the Cabildo before a march to mark the disappearance of Jorge Julio López one year ago.