Know Argentina, no discretion

My American friend met an Argentine at a bar who invited him to a party the next day. The dude… My American friend met an Argentine at a bar who invited him to a party the next day. The dude and his friends picked up my friend the following night. On the way to the party, my friend said, “I’m excited, ’cause I’ve really wanted to get to know Argentina for real, not just tourist stuff.” Anyway, it turned out there was no party, and the guys robbed him and emptied his bank account. But after the Argentine pistol-whipped him and left him tied up on a street corner in a ghetto, or “village of misery,” the Argentine said, “You wanted to know Argentina? This is Argentina!”

It’s probably hard for you to read this sentence, because you’re rolling your eyes so hard. It’s a throwback to when Will Smith punched the alien and said, “Welcome to Earth.”

In fact, the pibe had a point. While crime is everywhere, there’s a lack of subtlety particular to this country. This is Argentina, where people say, “This is Argentina,” when they rob you, where people sign up for every Facebook application, where someone named his Internet cafe after national literary hero Jorge Luis Borges:

7UP has an ad campaign here that shows young people having fun beside a 7UP logo. That’s pretty standard. What’s original is the text beside the picture that says, “Que bueno es vivir como esta gente!” or “How great is it to live like these people?!”

Usually that kind of message is only implicit in advertising. But 7UP decided not to take any chances. I think these ads still leave too much up to the public, though, because it’s still not stated outright that a soft drink is the hand behind the happiness. I propose ads with complete syllogisms, in this case stumping for a Dr. Pepper imitation that my great-grandfather invented and sold at his grocery store:

Similarly, I saw a woman wearing a dress that had writing on it. It was the first time I’ve seen a dress with this much text, and the writing ran all the way down from the top to the bottom, even on the skirt part. It was in English and said, “I’m just all about fashionable clothes, having fun and being outgoing.”

Girls have always dressed to communicate these very sentiments, but usually resort to the cut or the colors of their clothes. “That dress is high and has hot blue on it.” I think, “She must be confident.” Even the brand can help you deduce, “Man, I saw in the catalog that people wearing American Eagle will pull the jalopy over at any old spot and lay down in reeds with an acoustic and their sandy-haired best friends in early fall, ’cause their free spirits moved them, that’s all. I suppose I can expect a lot of the same from her.”

I wonder how many people have been confused about the message I’m trying to put across when I put clothes on.

The other day, I was talking to an Argentine, and he told me about a funny lawn gnome he saw. For lawn gnome, he said “enano de jardin,” but “enano” is also the word for “midget.” I asked him how the dwarfs in El Senor de los Anillos – “The Lord of the Rings” – got translated. It turns out they are midgets, too. To me, this situation is confusing and politically incorrect:

“What’s that in your garden?”

“Oh, they’re just my lawn midgets. I think having midgets on my lawn is enchanting.”

“We need to enlist that race of the mountains, the ones who are strong and skilled at metallurgy.”

“You must be talking about the midgets. Yes, they’re invaluable in combat.”

In a way, using the same word for midget, dwarf and gnome implies a different way to see reality, or in this case, fantasy. Maybe Argentines think the mythical people in novels are regular little people, but who happen to all have abilities anyone could with effort.

In truth, if the little people in the real world all decided to bulk up, live in caves and take up smithing, it’d be just like “The Lord of the Rings.” Maybe to Argentines, what’s magical about “The Lord of the Rings” isn’t a race of dwarves, but a widespread coincidence of hobbies among the little people, who are, in our world, as varied in their tastes, aspirations and talents as the rest of us.

Call me American, but it’s hard adjusting to a culture that’s so cliched, condescending, obvious and, worst of all, insensitive. Call me American, but advertisers have to use soft pastels and indie pop to make me buy something. And call me American, but speaking of little people, I call the show “Diff’rent Strokes,” instead of “Blanco y Negro” – awful!

In fact, discretion is just the type of strong, American value all nations should and will, under bombardment, adopt. After all, like the song says, “Diff’rent strokes to rule the world.” And like I can’t wait to say when we do, “This is America!” Call me American.

E-mail Lewis at ljl10@pitt.edu.