Mariela

So, I was having a tough time even figuring out exactly where this blog post should go. While I think it's important for all the UF study abroad-ers to read this, I don't really know if I wanted to put it up there. Perhaps I'll move it over once I finally get it on to "paper."

Here we are...a month and a half into my BsAs stay and the greatest deal of culture shock I have yet to experience can be summed up in one word "Mariela."

Mariela is the young woman who comes to my homestay FIVE DAYS A WEEK and cleans the house...yes you read that correctly...I am living in a home with a maid. Mariela does all of the laundry, washes the floors/windows/bathrooms, makes my host mother breakfast in bed, makes lunch more often than not and does all of this while referring to my host parents as "senor" and "senora."

I've always felt a little uncomfortable around Mariela, mostly because our interactions have never consisted of more than the following:
Mariela: "Hola buen dia."
Me: "Hola, como estas."
Mariela: "Muy bien, y vos"
Me: "Muy bien, gracias."
Cue SILENCE while she goes about cleaning the kitchen/bathroom/etc. It's very much a "don't speak unless you're spoken to" kinda of relationship...one I feel I have no authority to change.

A week or so ago, the topic of Mariela was brought up at dinner (still don't remember exactly how we got there) but my house mother was sympathizing for her because Mariela recently moved to Gran Buenos Aires (aka the 'burbs...but not in the wasp-y, swanky sense) changing her commute to work from a 20 minute bus ride to a bus ride of 2 HOURS. She arrives every day at 7:30 a.m. and stays at the house until 2:30 p.m. This must mean she gets up around 4:45 a.m. and doesn't get home until at least 5 p.m. or so.

As sick as this made me feel...the kicker was when I inquired whether she had children (I just assumed that this would be the reason/motivation behind this kind of work) to have my house mother inform me that she does not have children and is, in fact, only 23 years old....and has been working since she was 13.

The situation with Mariela illustrates a few issues I have with BsAs...though really is a pandemic around Argentina and South America as a whole. Having somebody who works in your house...as a maid or what have you...is not a sign of the upper class as it is in the US. In fact, it pretty much marks the beginning of the middle class because, as an acquaintence from Venezuela told me, human labor is very cheap. Without even going into the whole "human labor is very cheap" rivaling modern day slavery debate...the words uttered from Maria Isabel were nonetheless chilling. My friend Veronica (from the States) told me about a family she knew that was too poor to buy a washing machine...but could afford to pay somebody to come and do the laundry/cleaning. Which means, the maid was washing the family's clothes BY HAND. As much as I try to push my ethnocentrism aside...things like these are simply beyond my comprehension.

Also, as much as Argentina claims to be a country without racism...it simply isn't true. One of the biggest dividing factors between Mariela's socioeconomic status and that of the majority of Argentina is that she is from Paraguay and, therefore, automatically has a lower standing in Argentine society. Not that people will admit to it...but it's the way I've seen things happen here. Manual labor is done by people with darker skin tones....people with darker skin tones are either indigenous Argentines (from the northern parts of the country) or Paraguyans or Peruvians. End of story.

The construction workers I pass on my way to school every day simply stand to confirm this as I overhear their conversations in Quechua/Guarani/some other indigenous language I don't recognize.

I guess what really gets me is that my house parents are wonderful people. Andres and Maqueca are incredibly loving and they both either work or worked really hard to give their five children good lives. Maqueca cooks fantastic dinners, and Andres always helps her clear the table. However, when he eats the breakfast Mariela prepares for him he leaves everything on the table for her to come clean up.

Ultimately, it is the quintessential case of culture shock. Something I don't understand simply becase I am not from here. I just never thought my culture shock would be something like this. Argentina, you never cease to fill me with shock and awe.