A little about George and Martha. They were in their early 40’s and had both lived their entire lives in Buenos Aires. Their daughter was close to Paul’s age. George was the head accountant for Portland Cement Argentina. He’s very nationalistic and protective of Argentina as are most Argentines. Even though he worked for Portland Cement (a US firm) he insisted that all US companies should stay out of Argentina. Martha imported bulk spices, picked them up from the docks, brought them home, separated them into portions and sold them wholesale. They were really great to us all the time we were parked in front of their apartment. In fact when Paul turned 10 they gave him a surprise birthday party. George was still kind of old fashioned and set in his ways. He had trouble comprehending that women bought cars in the US. The advertisements for autos in magazines like Good Housekeeping and Redbook amazed him. American women were just too independent for his liking. They shouldn’t be doing a man’s job. George had a rather distinguishing feature - his nose nostrils were enormous! He could stuff half of a handkerchief in one nostril. I always felt better talking to him if I was standing up and he was sitting down, otherwise my eyes kept shifting to look up his nose.
A few other people in the apartments weren’t so happy with us though. In fact one day we were visited by the police who told us that there was a complaint that we were contributing to the smog in the city by running our generator. And another time someone complained that we were selling drugs. Both times the police were very professional and treated the complaints like nuisances they were.
Another time though a visit from the special police was a little unnerving. Two men in suits came in an unmarked car with no license plates to talk to Bill. They wanted him to go with them to their office. About then I came out of the motorhome with the camera and took a picture of them and their car. Bill said “No, I’m not getting into that car. And do you see my wife? She is taking pictures of your and your car.” After some discussion it was decided that Bill would have to go to the headquarters to register the motorhome, but he did not have to go with them, as long as he did it that day. Once he got there everything turned out fine. One of the administrators was someone he had gone to university with.
Nestor and Nellie belonged to a famous social club “Ferrocarril Oeste”. It was about two blocks from where we were parked. Bill and all the boys immediately became temporary members. The club has a very nice restaurant, several tennis courts and of course soccer fields. Most of the well known tennis players from Argentina played at Ferro. It also had a well known soccer team. John, Paul and Gil took tennis lessons. And Paul pestered the tennis pro into teaching him how to restring tennis rackets. Paul could be a real pest when he wanted something. Usually he got what he wanted because he wore people down. He actually got pretty good at the restringing. Randy and John Mc made friends with a couple of the tennis players and hung out with them while we were there.
Also while we were in Buenos Aires the 1978 World Cup finals were held at River Plate Stadium. And Argentina won. Talk about a celebration. The streets were crowded with energized fans. Singing, dancing and shouting prevailed. No riots, no arrests, no drunks. Just plain joy. Bill and the boys had gone to watch the finals at Nestor’s apartment. I stayed home to enjoy the privacy and quiet. As I type this I remember that I had done something (can’t remember what) to offend George our neighbor and he wasn’t speaking to me. So thinking about doing some kissing up I walked over and knocked. When he answered the door I held up a package of jello and asked if he could translate the directions for me. Good move on my part. He carefully explained what was written down and gave the box back. I thanked him with vigor and went back to the motorhome to fix the jello. I guess it showed him I was a dutiful wife and not so independent - I needed him for something so simple.
During the last couple of games in Buenos Aires we had a visit from Paul Perez, one of the guys from the soccer van. A knock on the door and there he stood. Don’t know how he found us. He caught us up one some of the other’s activities. Robert, Mark Maynard and Klaus were in La Paz, Bolivia. Maynard had sold the Volvo and was taking a vacation. Frenchie had gone to Cochabamba, Bolivia and was working as a bar tender. Paul came to town to try to get into some of the games. That was the last news we had of any of them.
A few other people in the apartments weren’t so happy with us though. In fact one day we were visited by the police who told us that there was a complaint that we were contributing to the smog in the city by running our generator. And another time someone complained that we were selling drugs. Both times the police were very professional and treated the complaints like nuisances they were.
Another time though a visit from the special police was a little unnerving. Two men in suits came in an unmarked car with no license plates to talk to Bill. They wanted him to go with them to their office. About then I came out of the motorhome with the camera and took a picture of them and their car. Bill said “No, I’m not getting into that car. And do you see my wife? She is taking pictures of your and your car.” After some discussion it was decided that Bill would have to go to the headquarters to register the motorhome, but he did not have to go with them, as long as he did it that day. Once he got there everything turned out fine. One of the administrators was someone he had gone to university with.
Nestor and Nellie belonged to a famous social club “Ferrocarril Oeste”. It was about two blocks from where we were parked. Bill and all the boys immediately became temporary members. The club has a very nice restaurant, several tennis courts and of course soccer fields. Most of the well known tennis players from Argentina played at Ferro. It also had a well known soccer team. John, Paul and Gil took tennis lessons. And Paul pestered the tennis pro into teaching him how to restring tennis rackets. Paul could be a real pest when he wanted something. Usually he got what he wanted because he wore people down. He actually got pretty good at the restringing. Randy and John Mc made friends with a couple of the tennis players and hung out with them while we were there.
Also while we were in Buenos Aires the 1978 World Cup finals were held at River Plate Stadium. And Argentina won. Talk about a celebration. The streets were crowded with energized fans. Singing, dancing and shouting prevailed. No riots, no arrests, no drunks. Just plain joy. Bill and the boys had gone to watch the finals at Nestor’s apartment. I stayed home to enjoy the privacy and quiet. As I type this I remember that I had done something (can’t remember what) to offend George our neighbor and he wasn’t speaking to me. So thinking about doing some kissing up I walked over and knocked. When he answered the door I held up a package of jello and asked if he could translate the directions for me. Good move on my part. He carefully explained what was written down and gave the box back. I thanked him with vigor and went back to the motorhome to fix the jello. I guess it showed him I was a dutiful wife and not so independent - I needed him for something so simple.
During the last couple of games in Buenos Aires we had a visit from Paul Perez, one of the guys from the soccer van. A knock on the door and there he stood. Don’t know how he found us. He caught us up one some of the other’s activities. Robert, Mark Maynard and Klaus were in La Paz, Bolivia. Maynard had sold the Volvo and was taking a vacation. Frenchie had gone to Cochabamba, Bolivia and was working as a bar tender. Paul came to town to try to get into some of the games. That was the last news we had of any of them.
More about living in Buenos Aires
We did some tourist things while there like visiting La Boca a very colorful part of Buenos Aires. The buildings are all painted in vibrant colors and the street is only for pedestrians. Many artists display their wares there and often there is impromptu Tango dancing. There was a vendor selling hot roasted peanuts out of a metal drum, the kids couldn’t get enough of them. We bought a small oil painting of the area to bring home with us.
I know I mentioned a long time ago that we left California because Bill wanted to move back to Argentina. By now the situation had changed some. He remembered why he’d left in the first place. When we were first in Mar del Plata we looked at a few homes for sale. So different from the US. The walls and floors are mostly cement. Of course paint and carpet would help that. It is just that nothing was as comfortable as we are used to. The kitchens had no garbage disposal, no dishwashers and not enough outlets. The water came from tanks on the roof and there were no large water heaters like we were used to. The water was only heated as you used it. In all the houses had a very cold feeling. Now I am talking about what we could afford. There are beautiful homes and condos there - just a little out of our price range. That’s when we started talking about going back to the US.
And I want to get back to the comforts of life that I am used to. Little things like paper towels, soft toilet tissue, and meat not cut from a hanging carcass. I was also missing books, magazines and TV in English or without subtitles. Totals for grocery receipts that didn’t look like the national debt.
Like toilet paper in the restrooms. While in South America we all learned to carry tissue in our pockets for that time when we needed it. Some restrooms had ladies working in them who would sell you tissue if you didn’t have any. But you had to remember to buy it before you went into the stall. We joked about how it would be cheaper and softer on your parts to use a peso note then to buy the scratchy paper. Just probably not as sanitary. For a couple of months after we got home if we put on something we hadn’t worn since Argentina There would be tissue in the pockets.
Post office - Since coming back I have never complained about our postal service - it is marvelous! We couldn’t buy stamps in advance for mailing letters so every time we wanted to send a letter or postcard we had to make a trip to the post office. The money was devaluating so fast any stamps you had from before were no longer usable. The lines were always very long and the clerks make the ones in the US seem like angels. Later in the year at Christmas time, my Mom sent some gifts for the boys. Just nonsense stuff - Star Wars figures and small toys. We had to take her word for it as we never saw them. All of our correspondence went to Nestor’s address so there was no reason for it to be lost in delivery.
I know I mentioned a long time ago that we left California because Bill wanted to move back to Argentina. By now the situation had changed some. He remembered why he’d left in the first place. When we were first in Mar del Plata we looked at a few homes for sale. So different from the US. The walls and floors are mostly cement. Of course paint and carpet would help that. It is just that nothing was as comfortable as we are used to. The kitchens had no garbage disposal, no dishwashers and not enough outlets. The water came from tanks on the roof and there were no large water heaters like we were used to. The water was only heated as you used it. In all the houses had a very cold feeling. Now I am talking about what we could afford. There are beautiful homes and condos there - just a little out of our price range. That’s when we started talking about going back to the US.
And I want to get back to the comforts of life that I am used to. Little things like paper towels, soft toilet tissue, and meat not cut from a hanging carcass. I was also missing books, magazines and TV in English or without subtitles. Totals for grocery receipts that didn’t look like the national debt.
Like toilet paper in the restrooms. While in South America we all learned to carry tissue in our pockets for that time when we needed it. Some restrooms had ladies working in them who would sell you tissue if you didn’t have any. But you had to remember to buy it before you went into the stall. We joked about how it would be cheaper and softer on your parts to use a peso note then to buy the scratchy paper. Just probably not as sanitary. For a couple of months after we got home if we put on something we hadn’t worn since Argentina There would be tissue in the pockets.
Post office - Since coming back I have never complained about our postal service - it is marvelous! We couldn’t buy stamps in advance for mailing letters so every time we wanted to send a letter or postcard we had to make a trip to the post office. The money was devaluating so fast any stamps you had from before were no longer usable. The lines were always very long and the clerks make the ones in the US seem like angels. Later in the year at Christmas time, my Mom sent some gifts for the boys. Just nonsense stuff - Star Wars figures and small toys. We had to take her word for it as we never saw them. All of our correspondence went to Nestor’s address so there was no reason for it to be lost in delivery.
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