This morning, I came across striking workers on my way to class. They’d taken over the building, closed it down, barring the door shut with a piece of wood. Being here for just a few days, I wasn�t entirely capable of getting the full story, but I snapped a few pictures and talked to some people to get a gist of what was going on.

For the record, no one at IES was surprised when I told them this. From what I understand, strikes are a common thing in Buenos Aires.

Regardless, I think they worked for Obra Social para la Actividad Docente (OSPLAD), or a health insurance company for teachers. They’ve been requesting a raise of 300 pesos to their salary of about 2000 pesos a month, as well as an additional 2% increase related to seniority. I’m still catching my bearings on a lot of things, so the details are unclear.

I do know that nurses and doctors were on strike, and that they’ve been trying to negotiate since April. What was also clear was that the workers aren’t satisfied with their conditions. The people  I spoke to said that there’s a shortage of nurses – they need about 50 more than their current 213 to run the hospital properly – that there aren’t enough beds for patients and that the four administrators at the building unjustly earn 10,000 pesos a month, five times the amount of an average worker.

Claudia — a nurse who wouldn’t give me her last name because her husband is a police officer or something and she doesn’t want to get him in trouble — said that once she was the only nurse on a floor where there should’ve been four.

This is all entirely subjective – I only have one side of the story, broken and incoherent at that because of my developing Spanish. Even so, this made me think about a few things more in-depth throughout the day.

In my time at Buenos Aires, I’ve felt slightly better about myself as a human being. By that, I mean that I enjoy living with less – smaller house, shorter showers (small water heater), less food (you don�t get served unreasonable amounts at restaurants), more walking. In a way, I don�t feel so guilty living here.

Oftentimes, I feel that the lifestyle at home is simply too much. It doesn�t feel right to me that people in the United States, and a lot of industrialized nations, have more than other people in the world just by virtue of where they live. I don�t work any harder than those everywhere else. Why should I be so entitled?

All that said, I bought a guitar today, and it left a bad taste in my mouth. It felt excessive to throw down 400 pesos for petty self entertainment. On the surface it might not seem so bad, but that didn’t stop me from having a bloated feeling in my chest, as if I didn’t rightfully deserve to own it.

A lot of classes here are at night here because a majority of students work full time during the day. And I feel like a bum, wandering around and taking photos everyday like I’m on some grand vacation.

Later on in the day, I met with a friend of my uncle’s at a cafe, we’ll call him Gomez, who works as a professional journalist. I asked him a lot about journalism, what he’s learned from the field, etc., and I keep hoping that maybe journalism will give me an edge to do some kind of productive work I believe in. For some reason, simply earning my way while so many other people can barely get by doesn�t feel right to me.

The two things he�s learned from journalism, which are the same things that I�ve heard from a lot of journalists:

1. He�s had opportunities to meet lots of interesting characters, and he�s found out that the similarities between people are stronger than the differences.

2. No matter what he does, nothing is ever going to change.

In any case, after the chat I went to a restaurant for dinner,  mulling these thoughts over and trying to find some exigence. I haven’t even been here a week yet, but I think being in Argentina is already helping me out.

Location: 888 Avenida Puerreydon, Buenos Aires, Argentina