|
Buenos Aires, Argentina November
2019 John Lisbeth
(c) Copyright 2026 by John Lisbeth
|
|
After a successful hunt for Blackbuck and wild boar, my hunting buddy Mike and I were staying in a hotel in Buenos Aries, planning two guided tours around town the following day. Mike was pretty pooped and I wasn’t, so I decided to take a walk and look over the main drag. We had been warned that, due to Argentina’s horrible economy, runaway inflation and the fact that over a third of the population was unemployed, living in abject poverty and desperate, the streets weren’t what you’d call safe. The first day, we hadn’t walked a block before two people cautioned us not to show an expensive camera or watch or a cell phone. Apparently, street robberies were common.
That night, “The Broadway of Buenos Aries” was busy and working hard to live up to its name with very limited success. Walking back to the hotel, I wanted to check Google Maps on my phone to be sure I was going the right way. The street I was on was almost deserted, with only one young couple on the other side walking toward me. I pulled out my phone and had just confirmed my route when the couple separated, the man crossing the street ahead of me and the woman moving rapidly until she was past me and then crossing the street and coming toward me. “Can I help you?” she asked in surprisingly good English. It didn’t take exceptional intelligence to see that she was hoping to get me to turn toward her, putting my back to her partner. I quickly pocketed my phone and put my back to the nearest building. “No thanks,” I said while looking back and forth at the pair. “I’m fine.” Seeing me looking her in the eye and obviously aware of the couple’s intentions dramatically changed her attitude. They were perfectly willing to push or knock down the white-haired Gringo, grab his phone and whatever else they could and run, but when they saw they’d have to fight me, that was more than they wanted. They re-crossed the street and went on their way.
As
a vacation spot, I don’t recommend Argentina.
I
was born in Tennessee and raised in New Jersey. I
went to college in South Dakota. I
was drafted upon graduation and made a career of the military,
retiring in 1995. I
wrote product review and how-to articles for sporting magazines from
1976 to 1984 and began writing fiction in 2016. I’m
married with one daughter and one grandson and I
play bass trombone in several groups in and near Rapid City, South
Dakota. I'm 80 years old.