(or “How Bariloche Caught the Economic Crisis Flu”)
It’s temporada alta- high tourist season - here in Bariloche. It’s during these winter months that the majority of the citizens here earn the majority of their annual income. And while one would expect to hear exclamations of joy and optimism in these early days of July, the onda on the street is whispering quite a different tune.
What is the cause of all these melancholy murmurings? From the chatter on the lurching, coughing colectivos to the contagious 4pm mate gossip. Why is it just one bad story after another? And why are all the mouths turned into a downward frown?
For Bariloche, a small Patagonian city whose economy is almost solely based on tourism, I can point my finger at two culprits (both of which I’ve been hoping to avoid here in Argentina): the economic crisis and the H1N1 (aka. Swine) flu. Or rather, the accompanying media-catalized frenzy that has consumed the world.
The CRISIS
This whole economic “crisis” has been a mystery to me from the beginning. Maybe because I was never given the opportunity to see it first hand. Just as it was gaining momentum, I hopped a flight to Panama to begin my South American country crawl. Or perhaps it’s the fact that I can’t make any sense of it. All this “invisible” money in the forms of stocks and shares, shifting hands and changing values always did seem counterintuitive to me. Or perhaps it’s the fact that all of a sudden there’s no money to be found. But where did it go?
And what do you mean there’s no money to pay the employees? And what do you mean I’m out of a job? And what do you mean half a million jobs were cut last month? Don’t you know that each of those people depend on that money to survive?
But as I’d mentioned previously, I was thousands of miles away from all the economic turmoil. What I wasn’t able to see wouldn’t be able to affect me, right?
What we sometimes forget is that we had developed a very intricate and very complex international economic system. The economy of one country will (directly or indirectly) affect the economies of all the other countries. When the United States wavers, the world rocks.
It seems that Bariloche, as previously stated, is a rather touristic city. The beautiful summer sun illuminates the Andes and the treks through the countryside are lush. The winter creates the wonderland conditions for South America’s largest ski resort. Free-spending tourists happily descend on the trendy chocolate shops and luxurious cabañas in both the winter and summer temporadas and locals are happy to oblige.
Now, when rich deep-pocketed gringos start feeling the economic strain they are quick to clutch their pennies and rock out to a perfectly acceptable stay-cation. They won’t, por ejemplo, fly down to the southern hemisphere to buy knick-knacks and flimsy souvenirs, as they would have previously.
When a city’s economic fuel runs dry, the citizens scramble to make ends meet. From the tour guides to the five-star hotel valet parking staff, from artisan sweater makers to the overpriced multilingual restobars. And when these people start skimping, then other businesses start feeling the strain: veggie stands, hardware stores, and pastelerías. To name only a few.
To make matters worse, the snow isn’t falling. We should have had a nice cover of snow on our precious Cerro Catedral by now, but it’s just not coming. Global warming?! Call it what you will, but without snow you cannot ski. The extravagant resort was going to open in June… then the first of July… Now they say July 13th… Until then, tens of thousands of people are jobless.
No tourists means no income. No tourists means Nate’s hostel wasn’t able to pay the electricity bill or any of the employees. With unhappy employees and no income, the hostel was forced to close. Nate has been out of a job for over a month. And while we are gringos with Washington Mutual bank accounts, most Argentinians live temporada to temporada. They don’t have the luxury of dipping into their savings to feed their children. Everyone’s pockets are hurting.
SWINE FLU
Now there’s something else that has been looming on the front pages of newspapers and on the headlines of the evening news. Unfortunately (or fortunately) I have buried myself in an impermeable bubble owning neither a TV nor internet. And I have only made false promises to faithfully buy the local newspaper to enhance my vocabulary and current events knowledge.
Swine flu or H1N1 or GRIPE A has swept through Bariloche. Within days every single school has closed (institutes included), all other clubs and sports have been canceled, and winter break has commenced over two weeks early. Joyful children have taken to the streets, at least those who aren’t at home sneezing into their hot lemon tea with honey. And adults are left scratching their heads wondering where their jobs went. From school bus drivers to yoga instructors; from school lunch caterers to (ahem) yours truly.
I showed up to work on Thursday morning for a pre-classes paperwork session. I was met with glum countenances and the even glummer news of our institute’s suspension of classes. And that we would only get half of July’s paycheck as a result.
That day I walked around in shock. I knew very well that the institute’s directors hadn’t had any other choice. We would have gotten a lot of flack if we were the only institute open. But why is the whole city all of a sudden in hysterics over this flu?
I don’t claim to know anything about it, but it does seem to have made the public go a little out of control. It’s a flu. True it’s a worse strain, true it can be deadly, true it is something to take seriously and educate ourselves about. But let’s not be hysterical and paranoid. Let’s remember to wash our hands and to not cough on each other. Let’s remember to get lots of rest and, above all, eat well and stay hydrated. I’m going to repeat that last part because it is something that we as a species often don’t pay attention to: EAT WELL (with plenty of veggies and variety of grains) and STAY HYDRATED (and NOT with sugary syrupy soft drinks).
With Bariloche in a standstill, everyone with or without a job is finding life a little harder. Tourists are canceling their holiday reservations to flu-ridden Bariloche by the thousands. For a city that depends mostly on its winter tourist season, it looks like it might be a hard year to come.
So where does all of this leave me? It leaves me two weeks al pedo in Bariloche, which it turns out is exactly what I needed. I will use all this new free time to cook and read everything I can find. I’ve developed the uncontrollable and inexplicable urge to devour new information in all forms. Call it an intellectual rampage if you will.
On the 18th, we leave for the Northern Hemisphere.
