La embajada norteamericana

Hola todos,

Yesterday my friend Fede showed me all around Palermo, one of the neighborhoods in Buenos Aires. We saw a bunch of stylish shops and tall buildings, ate Mexican hamburgers (yay!), and got delicious ice cream (dulce de leche all the way!) at a mall. He asked if I'd seen the American embassy, and I hadn't, so he took me there to show me.

When we walked past a building with lots of tall, black, iron gates and security guard booths behind them, he asked if I recognized it. I didn't. It looked like a jail, and if that were the embassy, I thought it must be the back entrance or something — the ugly side behind the colonial, Greco-Roman-style front. I'd been to the Spanish embassy here: a medium-sized, inviting building with regular cultural events (that's where I saw the discussion about Arab Women in Film), and had seen the Korean embassy: a bigger building than the Spanish one, that did look less inviting, but nothing like a prison. But what we were looking at wasn't a jail or the back of the embassy — that was it!

I looked at the big embassy building (indeed colonial and Greco-Roman-style) from a distance through the gates and saw some men and women chatting, wearing stylish businesswear, through the windows. There was a sign that said something like "American citizens and special guests only" on one of the gates and a ribboned-off section on the sidewalk where you could stand to wait for an American visa. An older guard with some missing teeth patrolled outside. I wondered if he were American or Argentinian, but Fede told me without my asking that they were private security guards.

I wanted to take a picture of the place to show you all how grand, intimidating, and exclusive it is. When I took my camera out, Fede said, "You can't take pictures here. This is the American embassy! I don't want the guard to bother us." My concept of what embassies were like was still almost entirely based on the Spanish embassy I'd visited, so I thought for sure he was joking (it really sounded like a joke...), and started to take the picture. When I saw the guard walking in our direction, though, I put my camera down.

He said (in Spanish), "There are no photos allowed here. There are no photos allowed here. Did you take a picture? Don't you see the signs?" (Signs on the gates — I hadn't read them, because I'd been too impressed by the gates themselves and the building!) He looked at my camera, and I showed him that I hadn't gotten a picture of anything except my purse — I'd moved my camera down when I saw him coming. "This is the American Embassy!" he said. I said "Lo siento! No me di cuenta." I'm sorry, I didn't realize! I wondered if he could tell that I'm American, or if that would matter to him at all. I was glad when he walked away!

Fede said, "I told you you can't take pictures! This is the American embassy!" I said, "I'm sorry! I thought you were joking!" He told me it makes complete sense why you can't take a picture: you could use the information for a terrorist attack. "If you want to take a picture you have to stand over there (on a hill) and just zoom in."

After the embassy Fede showed me the embassador's house. Another grand, gated palace with guards. It had the American seal in the middle and an American flag flying high. It was at the intersection of Avenida Del Libertador (Liberator Avenue) and John Fitzgerald Kennedy.

Fede said that every 4th of July there's a huge party (either at the embassador's house or the embassy, I can't remember), where only very important people are invited, and someday he wants to go.

The exclusivity of it all reminds me of Aladdin and the palace and guards in the movie. I wish our embassy were more friendly-seeming, in a country where we are generally known as "American imperialists." The gated, policed, imperial palaces don't help us to challenge that image!

It's less of a wonder to me now why some people here think it's so great to live in America (when, at least in Buenos Aires, it's very similar, cheaper, and safer to live here!). The symbols of America here are so rich, important, and huge (American embassy, American restaurants and stores, American concerts and shows).

Again, though, it's a similar atmosphere, cheaper, and safer (than Chicago, Chicago suburbs, even Galesburg) to live right here. America's real asset, I think, is freedom: freedom of speech, choice, action. That's what we've got that is special, and that's what we need to defend. The other things — cost of living, people's general well-being (health care, stress levels, happiness), and safety — are things that are lacking compared to small- and big-town Korea and the capitol of Argentina in my own experience, and many other places according to what I've read. My personal project for America is to advance equality opportunity (which unfortunately needs advancing in most places). I hope we can shape ourselves up!

Today I'm going to do a bunch of homework and go with another friend (the receptionist!) to a different area, Recoleta.

Hasta luego!
Kaeli