The wit of the porteño and politics as unusual
I’ve been staying staying with the Fleitas family for the first 10 days. On July 19, I’m going to moving into a flat in San Telmo. For now, I’m enjoying spending time with the Fleitas family, who are friends of my good friend Laureano. The members of the Fleitas family who live in an early 20th century four story house in the middle of the Congreso neighbourhood of Baires include the mother and two sisters. A third sister is married. A traditional Peronist family, the middle daughter has more activist leanings and we talk about the recovered factory movements and Argentina’s other social movements into the night.
People come and go in the Fleitas family home; it is a hub for the social activity of a group of twentysomethings whose members include cousins and schoolmates. On my first night at the home a lively discussion breaks out peppered with much porteño slang. I understand everything but the terms are all new to me; local slang changes monthly here it seems. I feel frustrated because I can’t contribute to the conversation in the same way – I’m relegated to the living room castellano I speak with my parents back in Canada. This makes me feel fractured, split into many pieces. What is my identity? Argentinean? Argentinean-Canadian? Does it matter? I too want to break into the porteñoisms at the same verbal speed, but I can’t.
So I decide to remain quite and listen. The conversation quickly meanders into politics. Whenever Argentineans talk about local and national politics the conversation is, although often sarcastic and auto-critical, always interlaced with humour. Sometimes, Argentineans make a concerted effort to find some good in all of the political chaos that is infused in Argentinean socio-political history. Political or not, conversations are more often than not interlaced with much wit and double entendres. When discussing politics, no major politician is spared from the wrath of the converationists. The humour tends to keep the contradictory state of Argentinean politics in perspective. One thing that is never referred to in a humours way, however, is the last bloody and repressive dictatorship that Argentina suffered between 1976 and 1983.
People come and go in the Fleitas family home; it is a hub for the social activity of a group of twentysomethings whose members include cousins and schoolmates. On my first night at the home a lively discussion breaks out peppered with much porteño slang. I understand everything but the terms are all new to me; local slang changes monthly here it seems. I feel frustrated because I can’t contribute to the conversation in the same way – I’m relegated to the living room castellano I speak with my parents back in Canada. This makes me feel fractured, split into many pieces. What is my identity? Argentinean? Argentinean-Canadian? Does it matter? I too want to break into the porteñoisms at the same verbal speed, but I can’t.
So I decide to remain quite and listen. The conversation quickly meanders into politics. Whenever Argentineans talk about local and national politics the conversation is, although often sarcastic and auto-critical, always interlaced with humour. Sometimes, Argentineans make a concerted effort to find some good in all of the political chaos that is infused in Argentinean socio-political history. Political or not, conversations are more often than not interlaced with much wit and double entendres. When discussing politics, no major politician is spared from the wrath of the converationists. The humour tends to keep the contradictory state of Argentinean politics in perspective. One thing that is never referred to in a humours way, however, is the last bloody and repressive dictatorship that Argentina suffered between 1976 and 1983.
posted by Marcelo Vieta at
2:02 PM
