It’s “Semana Santa” here in Argentina, or the Holy Week, and it’s one of the various new four-day weekends President Cristina Kirchner added this year. Any reasoning beyond gaining popular support for the upcoming election is beyond me. But whether or not a sensible decision, I guess you can’t complain about more holidays. In March we had two four-day weekends – one for Carnivale and the other for the anniversary of the last dictatorship’s coup – and now we are in the midst of another new long weekend for Holy Week.
For Semana Santa it turns out I am here in Salta, in the Northwestern region of Argentina, in the midst of the two-week excursion to NW Argentina with the SIT study abroad students. This region of the country is the most Catholic and the place is packed to capacity. Religious processions sporadically pass around the central plaza and the city’s beautiful cathedral (located on the plaza).
The days are beautiful and winter has yet to set in here, while the news shows Buenos Aires cold and dreary and rainy.
Last semester I didn’t accompany the students on the two trips they take (to the Northwest/Bolivian Border and Patagonia) but because of changing dynamics it turned out that this time I’m taking both trips with them. While the trips can be beyond exhausting because of the constant need to be “on” and available for students’ needs, I cannot but appreciate this opportunity to see these contrasting zones of Argentina one last time before I move back to the States.
Yes, I am moving back to the States.
The time has come because of both internal and external factors.
First, there are all the issues of the “migrant worker experience.” Most people – from Americans in the States, from Americans travelling around Argentina, to Argentines – never know the difficulties of actually living in Argentina as a non-MERCOSUR resident. And, since according to the Direction of Migrations in Argentina, there are only 3,000 North Americans living in Argentina, it makes sense that no one seems to know.
It is incredibly difficult to get a worker’s visa. It requires the company to do all sorts of extra work for you, registering the company with the Direction of Migrations, providing you with a real contract, signing that contract in front of an official at the Direction of Migrations, etc. that in most situations these steps are not taken.
In that case, you can either continue to live off the 90-day tourist visa, letting it expire or going every 3 months to Uruguay to renew it, or you can do the steps to get a student visa where you can work but never in a salaried position with health or retirement benefits.
On the pragmatic level this means that you (or I) do not have access to:
1) A DNI (The National Identity Document for Argentina) and because I can’t have a DNI even though I am an Argentine resident I can’t get….
a. A cell phone contract
b. A bank account, nor can I deposit my funds in American accounts without exorbitant fees
c. Any services – house phone, cable, internet – under your name
Being a foreigner, or from the Argentine provinces, you also do not have access to affordable housing, one of the most prominent social problems in Argentina, partially responsible for the growth in shantytowns in Buenos Aires. (In almost all cases to rent an apartment you are required to demonstrate that someone who owns property in the city of Buenos Aires vouches for you on the lease. Meaning those without relatives in the city are forced to live in shantytowns, rent rooms in pensions, or in the case of well-off foreigners they pay exorbitant rents for temporary apartment rentals – receiving an Argentine salary you cannot afford those prices).
After almost two years, I am tired of the day-to-day realities of these difficulties born of my migratory status. It is impossible to build roots here for me, establish myself, without giving birth to a child or marrying (neither of which are on the coming agenda!).
Beyond the migratory situation, there is the job situation. They are all tied together, but it means, at the end of the day the incredible difficult of ascent in the labor market and the stagnation of the desired socioeconomic mobility. I.e., I am a program assistant. All the North Americans and Europeans I know are in similar positions – English teachers, etc. there are zilch avenues for advancement in the work we receive. If I stay here five more years, I will still be an assistant.
And beyond the migratory and job situation, there is the personal level. Very few people with similar backgrounds to mine (my age group, my sociocultural background, English-speakng) stay in Argentina for more than a year. I have made many good friends and they have almost all left. There is a turnover rate which is important to mention. Every friend I have in Argentina who isn’t Argentine has left or has an expiration date. And I recognize that I cannot sustain myself with my Argentine friends alone; it is important to for me to have people close to me who are experiencing the same issues that I am living here.
All these things roll together to mean for me that it is time to go home. When I leave in July it will be three years that I have passed in Argentina, two continuous since graduating from Vassar.
In the fall I decided to apply to PhD programs in the United States and after the horrid GRE, applications and sending of transcripts, etc. I was lucky enough to get into various schools and in the end will be going to UT-Austin in pursuit of a Sociology PhD. It was hard for me to decide if I wanted to be a geographer or a sociologist but a variety of factors led me to choose that program.
So that’s that. I’m moving back.
For the next five years I will be a TEXAS RESIDENT. I never thought I would say those words!!
And I am so excited. SO EXCITED. I feel so lucky to be able to spend the next five years dedicated to my PhD program and that I will be able to do it without getting into debt. I’m really ready for this next step in life and
