Buenos Aires is like a dirtier version of New York City. There are similarities such as a convenient subway system, skyscrapers and streets yellowed with taxis. Many places in the city with fascinating architecture, parks and sculptures make me completely forget that Argentina is considered a third world country. But today’s column is not about the things that remind me of home. I want to talk about the aspects of the city that make it seem so weird. The core metropolitan area of Buenos Aires seethes with a population of about 3 million, and about one in every six people in the city owns a dog. These urban dogs are well adapted to city life. You realize this the first time you notice one waiting patiently on the corner for the traffic to change. Yesterday, I saw a Golden Retriever riding on the lap of a man driving a moped. These friendly dogs add personality the city, but there is one major side effect of their presence. This side effect is brown, smelly and mushy, and I once tracked it all the way up to the third floor of my host family’s house. Dog poop is everywhere. My daily 30-minute walk to the subway is like one long game of hopscotch. While this is far from life threatening, one aspect of the city has made me pray, and I am not a religious man. I will probably die in a taxi here in Buenos Aires. On my first taxi ride, I thought my driver was drunk because of his total disregard for traffic lanes. I soon realized every taxi is driven like this here. The street is like running water, fluid with cars shooting gaps and filling empty space across four traffic lanes often occupied by five cars. Even more terrifying is the lack of signage and right of way in all but the busiest streets. Drivers simply slow down and flash their lights to alert the still-invisible drivers traveling the perpendicular street of their presence. Because yielding is a choice and not an obligation, every intersection can become a game of chicken in which each driver presses his luck to gain the right of way. I do not want to give the wrong impression. This city is great. And if I survive another week of taxi rides, I will write about more positive aspects than dog poop and bad driving in next week’s column.
—Contact David McCoy at [email protected]