The Day of the Census 27th October 2010

It was to have been a strange day. The whole of Buenos Aires would be shut - schools, offices, shops, industry, everything and everyone had to stay at home waiting for the Census person to come so they could fill in the form together. I asked why they didn`t do it through the postal system and one of the replies, after asking several people, was that the Portenos just wouldn`t bother to do it otherwise! So there was no school and I had thought to go to Colonia, in Paraguay, for the day but decided to save my money for tango this coming month. So on the way home I bought sandwich/picnic material to keep me going on Wednesday. It was an opportunity for me to catch up on a few irregular verbs so I studied in the morning and then joined Rita with my picnic. She told me in a shocked voice that the ex President had died of a heart attack during the morning and Argentina was reeling from the news. His wife Cristina is the President but he has been the power and support behind her since she took office. He was president before her so between them they have been in government for nearly 10 years. I decided to go to the Plaza de Mayo, which is like our Parliament Square. It became a focus for the people during the day as the Census was completed and people were free to move. Nestor, the ex President, died while they were in Calafate in the South so neither he nor Cristina were in Buenos Aires but people came to share their sadness, to post notices on the surrounding fences and to leave flowers. They waited patiently in the queue - young and old, some wrapped in the Argentinian flag, some waving bandieras, some holding messages "Fuerza Cristina, Gracias Nestor". They were in everyone`s hearts - at least everyone who were there - he was not loved by the opposition party. The only flower seller there must have been thanking his lucky stars that he had flowers to sell on the Day of the Census when BA was `cerrado`.

The parakeets still screamed overhead regardless of the gravity of the moment - they remind me of the birds in "Island" by Aldous Huxley. Is this their role in BA to keep me conscious, to keep me awake - I wonder. I don`t think anyone else even notices their noisey calls.

It felt a privelege to be in the Plaza de Mayo on such an historic day. I met some wonderful people. A young Dutch lass who was studying here and was completely in love with BA - it had unwittingly slipped into her heart. I had a long chat with an older portena and had my first Molvinas conversation - she was very political, probably a Progresista, married to a lecturer. I said I`d have a chat with David Cameron when I got home. I realized how poor my history of Argentina was and also how different our paths have been in England and here. They have only had a democracy for about 25 years. How was life under a military coup? I can only imagine how awful it was but when I think of the Madres de Mayo and their sons who were disappeared and to this day they do not know what happened to them. My heart warms to these people who are learning to grow up in a country with so many problems. I also have a certain sympathy with this need to demonstrate and to speak out about their difficulties. The next step, as the Dutch girl said, is also to take action and do something, not just paint banners and march. But maybe this is where you start.

We now have 3 days of mourning. Because of the Census the streets were empty and it was with a sense of freedom that I walked down the centre of the Avenida de Mayo. The rollerbladers also took advantage of this emptiness. This was a day of gentleness and a certain tranquility maybe brought about by the Census.

Today has been utterly different. Nestor`s body was flown back to BA and the general public were able to view him in state. The queue wound its way round the city and people came in their hundreds. I think they will still be queuing at midnight. Helicopters circled overhead constantly. The atmosphere of quiet tranquility had gone completely. All the hawkers were out in force - flowers, banners, hot dogs, burgers, drinks, flags, whole families were queuing with little ones asleep on parents shoulders. The bands, the drums, the clapping and singing - it felt almost like a festival - and the rubbish, of course. It was good humoured and the police force were having no trouble making sure it was a trouble free day funnelling people as they got closer to the Plaza. A huge blow up version of Cristina hung over the square along with other huge balloons carrying messages of support.

No-one could have predicted what an unusual historic day Wednesday would turn out to be. The funeral will be near Calafate which is where he was born. Apparently he died at the same time that he was born and he was only 60 years old.

It`s my last day at school tomorrow which is unbelievable and sad. I have so enjoyed trying to learn spanish and to always have someone to check in with if I need some help and generally mixing with so many different nationalities and it will be strange having a month of English with Elsa. But the joys of a whole of month of tango with Elsa is a whole different thing and I am certainly looking forward to that and I am sure we shall continue to explore the city.