Cocalero

SUNDAY MOVIE MATINEE

"Si la piedra cae sobre el huevo, mala suerte para el huevo. Si el huevo cae sobre la piedra, mala suerte para el huevo..."

Eloísa Cartonera

/elo-iza kahr-ton-e-ra/ (f) noun

1. a publishing cooperative in La Boca (a working class barrio in Buenos Aires) that produces hand-painted books covers from cardboard that Cartoneros collect.

2. ‘Eloisa’ from the name of a founders’ crush; ‘Cartonera’ from or belonging to cartón~ tb, persona que hace o vende cartones u obras hechas en cartón.

3. see Cartoneros; ~individuals/families who collect recyclables from trash on the sidewalks at night and sell it for a living esp. after the 2001 economic crisis in Argentina, when the price of paper and carton increased drastically.

4. “literatura latinoamericana de los autores más bellos que hemos conocido en nuestra vida de trabajadores y lectores…”

5. 3x más de lo que les pagan a los cartoneros en otros depósitos.

6. “El trabajo como transformación social”~Washington Cucurto, Argentine writer & one of the founders.

7. $5 pesos/libro; $30 handmade shirts; $10 notebooks; $20 libro especial (1 U$S = Arg $ 3.7)

8. a challenge to neo-liberal political and economic hegemony.

9. catalyst for the creation of other publishing houses throughout América Latina (See: Sarita Cartonera: Lima, Peru. Est. 2004; Animita Cartonera: Santiago, Chile. Est. 2005; Mandrágora Cartonera: Cochabamba, Bolivia. Est. 2005; Yerba Mala Cartonera: El Alto, Bolivia. Est. 2006; Dulcinéia Catadora: São Paulo, Brazil. Est. 2007; Yiyi Jambo: Asunción, Paraguay. Est. 2007; La Cartonera: Cuernavaca, Mexico. Est. 2008.

10. Literature to the people

Origen:
2003; See Eloísa Cartonera.

Image Credits: Anne Johnson

Me Enamore

Cruzando la cordillera de los Andes hacia el oeste, me enamore y sé que regresare algún día.
Casas coloridas sentadas en olas de cerros, mirando hacia el mar, frio, pacífico:
Amarillas y verdes, rojas y azules, desde el ascensor se acercan, quieren llegar hacia la cumbre.
Valparaíso, Cinderella de mis ojos —facha y mugre-
Eres linda aunque a los gringos asustes con tus callejones de serpiente muralados,
tus vendedores de herramientas y calzoncillos ajustables, tus milagros que nadie recoge,
tus barros locos de carne, papa frita, queso y grasa pura.
Paseando por los sueños del pasado y del presente
Prometí volver algún día y entenderte.

Aires de America Latina

I’ve been living and studying in Buenos Aires for one month now, and in this short time I’ve come to learn so much about this land and its people, dispelling many myths and preconceptions about Argentina and its so called ‘Paris of Latin America’.

At first it was hard getting used to hearing and seeing light-skin, hair and eyes in Español. And little other people of color in general. Pretty much all the indigenous populations were wiped out in Argentina and the (now) romanticized gauchos, cowboy-like mestizos and criollos were as well.

Like its creators intended, the myth of Buenos Aires as the ‘Paris of Latin America’ is kept alive by the post-independence desire of its ruling elite to integrate European culture, architecture, and people into its essence- to choose “civilization” over “barbarity”, in the words of one of its founding fathers, Sarmientos. That said, most porteños (what people from the city of B’s A’s call themselves to distinguish each other from those in ‘el Interior’- aka the rest of the country) are descendants of mostly working class Italian and Spanish immigrants from the 1800s.

Today, wrought iron balconies overlook green and orange kioskos, papelerias, cafes as uneven sidewalks have you tripping over, forcing you to look down or risk stepping on dog poop. The city feels incessantly under construction, a chaotic order amidst chic boutique shops, McCafe’s and condos in certain neighborhoods, reminiscent of México D.F. It craftily hides its class conflict and its marginalized. These are pushed to the outskirts of the city and the country, written on its walls, and felt in the remnants of Peronismo and its ongoing impunity for its desaparecidos.

A good portion of Buenos Aires’ recent (and undesired = Paraguayan, Bolivian, Peruvian) immigrants today live in villas miserias, barrios on the outskirts of the city where little to no infrastructure exists even though they’re situated next to large media corporations. The spread of Paco, a residue drug of cocaine and glass, is affecting the lives and safety of these communities and has been compared to the crack epidemic of the ‘70s. While a few amazing people are doing much-needed work, it’s an uphill battle with very little government interest and resources.

I didn’t really know what to expect, and I still don’t know what to make of it all sometimes – but like many big cities, B’s A’s paradoxes are more stark and force one to rethink government, ‘development’, dignity, life and pueblo. This is not a Paris (or whatever that means). Buenos Aires, if anything, is an extreme example of the consequences of colonization, indigenous extermination, extreme Western ‘modernization’ and of course persistent US econ-military intervention, in and properly of America Latina.