Typical telo customers

The range of sex hotels runs from low-end, basic and frequented by prostitutes to full-blown luxury suites with two floors, a kitchen, garden and a pool table — there is a telo out there for everyone.

Ask any group of Argentines, and a deluge of telo stories about their ‘friends’ soon arise.

“I had a friend who was there with her boyfriend when they were teenagers. As they were leaving they bumped into the girl’s dad’s friend, with a woman who was not his wife. They exchanged a look — she, ‘don’t tell my dad’ and he, ‘don’t tell my wife,’ ” says Majo, a 29-year-old teacher who did not want to give her surname.

This story is typical of an embarrassing lobby encounter and highlights the two groups of main users — young people who live with their parents, and older married adults having affairs.

For many patrons, the telo is the only place they can get some privacy. “Many young people go to telos because they’ve got nowhere else to go. When I was younger I used to live with my parents, grandma and shared a room with my brother,” says Gustavo Guntren, 28.

“It’s bad enough having to explain who a girl is the next morning to your parents, but imagine having to introduce her to your grandma! There was just no way I could bring anyone back.”

Officially, those under 18 aren’t allowed in, in fact, the only time ID is required is to check the couple are of age. In practice, many teenagers have their first sexual experience in a telo and tend to be let in unchallenged.

The privacy of a telo also provides the perfect hideaway for cheating couples. Telos located downtown are those that tend to attract this type of regular. Suited-workers pop in for lunchtime quickies with their secret office-sweethearts.

Another group of users are faithful couples who have their own space yet choose to go to a telo to spice things up.

“It’s a way to get away from the daily routine. Some think that married couples don’t need to go because they can just have sex at home. But often with the children, and the problems of day to day life, it’s good to escape,”says Luis, 55, a married long-time telo patron.

As with regular hotels, frequent telo guests can collect vouchers, promotions and loyalty cards.

History of the Telo

Telos have been around in Argentina since the government officially closed whorehouses in 1937. It wasn’t until the 1960s that telos were formally classified alongside other ’normal’ hotels and got the name albergue transitorios.

At the time the establishments did not have the best reputation and were primarily used for those having affairs. Partly thanks to the 1963 film, ‘La Cigarra no es un bicho’ shot in famous ‘La Cigarra,’ telo, sex hotels have since hit the mainstream. In the 1970s middle class couples looking for a place to relight their relationship’s fire began turning to increasingly sophisticated telos.

Until 1997, telos were exclusively for male-female pairs. Today it is illegal for telos to refuse entry to same-sex couples. All couples — whatever their sex — must arrive and leave together, and it remains prohibited for more than two people to enter a telo room at once.

An Argentine experience?

Telo rooms often feature Jacuzzis photo: Jessie Akin

Telos are not unique to Argentina. Similar hotels can be found in Japan, Mexico and Brazil. For many Argentines, the concept of a telo is so normal, that they find it hard to believe that they don’t exist everywhere.

‘You don’t have them in Europe? What do you do?!’ asks Jimena Suarez a 27 year-old medical student upon discovering that this Argentine institution does not exist in Europe.

Overall, a rendezvous at a telo is as much an essential part of a trip to Argentina as a tango show with a glass of Malbec. After all, where else can a quick romp in a Jacuzzi be put down to cultural experience?

-Rosie Hilder

Five telo myths uncovered:

← continued from: Telos, an Argentine Institution

Legal, non-taboo and as much a part of Argentine daily life as the national drink mate, football and family barbecues, there are approximately 180 sex hotels in Argentina’s capital, boasting an estimated 5,000 rooms and 3 million yearly clients.

Commonly known by their lunfardo (slang) name telo —hotel backwards without the silent ‘h’ — telo rooms are rented by the turno, or turn. Turnos usually last three hours during the week and two hours during busy times such as Friday and Saturday nights. Late night guests can opt to stay the whole night and even get breakfast the next day.

Telo Rooms

photos: Jesse Akin

Couples can act out their fantasies in themed rooms such as, ‘Secrets of the Emperor,’ ‘Oriental’ or ‘Batman’s Cave’ and get it on in mock Roman chariots, strip clubs or even the gynecologist’s chair.

Jacuzzis, large mirrors on the ceiling, and porn channels on TV are common. The more features a room has, the more it will cost.

Most have a control panel allowing visitors to set the mood via lighting and music. The telo soundtrack is usually limited to cheesy ’80s hits or a romantic mix of Latin tunes but may be necessary to drown out the carnal screams and grunts coming from nearby rooms.

Room service is delivered through a two-door cabinet under or next to the door. Possible delivery options include drinks, snacks and sex toys — thankfully to buy, not to rent ­— and camcorders in case the porn channels inspire a home video. In all rooms, a complimentary condom lies waiting by the bed.

There have long been rumors about hidden cameras in bedrooms secretly filming the action, but these have never been proven and are likely telo myth.

Hygiene freaks shouldn’t be put off, rooms are normally meticulously clean, and always have a private bathroom with a ‘disinfected’ seal on the toilet seat. By law they should be ‘in a perfect state of hygiene.’ In general, the pricier the room, the cleaner it will be.

Entering a telo

To the untrained eye, telo entrances are difficult to spot. Officially, telos are called albergues transitorios, and they are obliged to display a sign advertising this name. Other dead giveaways are dim red lights, blacked out or mirrored windows and clandestine-looking entrances.

Legally, a telo must not be within 100 meters of a school or place of worship and has to have a minimum of 15 rooms.

Although it is usually possible to enter on foot, over 60% of telos have parking lots. Some even have cocheras privadas (private parking) where users can go directly from car to room to ensure maximum discretion. The entrance may be different from the exit; those on foot might enter via the garage and leave through a separate door a few meters away. The focus of the telo is on anonymity; no ID is required to enter.

At peak times, guests may literally have to wait their turn. By city law, there should be no common waiting area but on weekend evenings several couples are often clustered in the lobby, nervously trying to avoid eye contact and desperately hoping they won’t run into anyone they know.

→ continue reading: Telo History & Myths 

I made the whole world talk, their hearts beat.

I made them see that everybody has blood.

–Leon Gieco, Puño Loco

The exemplar of calculated aggression in the boxing ring, Carlos Monzón was at times a blazing, uncontrollable menace out of it. He was Argentina’s über-celebrity of the 1970’s. He dated the most famous movie stars, even if he happened to be married to someone else at the time.

He began as an unassuming provincial kid who went on to star in films, dress like a dandy and repeatedly beat many of his long line of glamorous girlfriends. His early life was blighted by crime and after gaining fame and adulation as one of the world’s finest athletes, he wound up being sent to prison for murdering the love of his life. He died at the age of 52 after crashing his car returning to prison after a day’s furlough.

In Argentina Monzón is revered as one of the greatest sportsmen the country has ever produced, alongside names like footballer Diego Maradona and Formula 1 legend Juan Manuel Fangio. Folk singer Leon Gieco’s tribute, Puño Loco (Crazy Fist) achingly remembers the boxer and his profound effect on the Argentine people despite the darker aspects of his personality.

In the boxing world he is widely regarded to be in the top three middleweights of all time. Mike Tyson, a devoted student of boxing history while training under Cus D’Amato, has repeatedly professed his veneration for the Argentine.

“I always loved Carlos Monzón. He was a tough guy, for real, a guy from the streets,” Tyson told sports daily Olé.

“He didn’t talk much. He didn’t need to. The ring belonged to him,” he said.

Beginnings

While many boxing champions from the U.S. or Europe come from tough inner-city neighborhoods, most of Argentina’s finest fighters punch their way out of the grim frontier provinces to make their way to the bright lights of Buenos Aires in the hope of earning fame and fortune. This is the story of Carlos Roque Monzón. He was born in the desolate town of San Javier in the Santa Fe province on August 7, 1942 where he lived in a humble home with his parents and four siblings.

He dropped out of school in the third grade and immediately started working to support his kin. He toiled through a range of odd jobs such as newspaper delivery boy and milkman but later he found he could also make a little money from his new hobby of boxing. Monzón would earn up to 50 pesos by winning loosely organized backstreet bouts. He began working his way up through the amateur ranks and came across the trainer who would shepherd him through the rest of his career and become a father figure and lifelong companion, Amilcar Brusa.

Career

Monzón turned pro in 1963 at the age of 20, winning his first fight with a second round knockout. The six foot tall, hard-as-flint middleweight battled his way through 19 fights over the next two years. He lost three times in that period in what was a merciless trial by fire for the still-developing boxer. Never would he taste defeat again in the ring. Most importantly, he was taken under the wing of fight promoter Juan Carlos ‘Tito’ Lectura, patron of Buenos Aires’ boxing coliseum, Luna Park.

Revered boxing journalist Carlos Irusta first met Monzón at that time. Like many fight experts, he was not initially blown away by the Santa Fe pugilist’s aura.

“He was a very polite guy, but he didn’t talk much,” says Irusta. “He wasn’t charismatic. At that stage Monzón was just another boxer. He didn’t give you the impression that he would go on to reach the heights that he did.”

Despite his weak first impression, Monzón’s professional reputation grew on the back of some fine victories in Lectura’s arena which were broadcast on national television. Eventually he was given the chance to fight for the title of Argentine champion. He surprised almost everybody by beating the highly regarded Jorge Fernandez to become champion of Argentina on 13 September, 1966. From there his steady progress continued until he earned a shot at the world middleweight title against the great Italian boxer Nino Benvenuti in Rome on 7 November, 1970. Once again, nobody thought he had much of a chance of victory.

“It was a more romantic time,” remembers Irusta. “We [the boxing community] all got together to give Monzón a farewell dinner in Luna Park. There were a lot of us, and nobody except for Brusa, Lectura and one veteran journalist, Simón Bronenberg believed in Monzón.”

The Argentine public at the time were drawn to more charismatic fighters, including Benvenuti himself, a suave boxer-cum-movie star whose face could be seen on giant billboards around Buenos Aires, recalls Irusta.

“Carlos could walk along Corrientes Street in a suit and nobody would recognize him,” he says.

“All eyes were on Benvenuti. I got the feeling that the average spectator was thinking: ‘Who is this guy Monzón, who’s going off to fight the champ?’”

The world title bout was broadcast on a Saturday afternoon in Argentina.

“Buenos Aires stopped to watch,” says Irusta. “The next day everyone was talking about Monzón. If he’d lost, though, it would have been just another fight.”

Fight fans were in for a shock. The brilliant Benvenuti was made to look obsolete. His punches failed to land while Monzón was precise, flawless. The final round is part of boxing folklore.

Monzón battered and shattered the champion in the twelfth before peddling oblivion with his crazy right fist. It was one of the purest knockouts in the sport’s history, but equally striking was the way the Argentine nonchalantly turned and strolled back to his corner after delivering the brutal blow, as if he had just punched off work at a factory rather than punched out the revered middleweight champion of the world. Those three minutes were pure Monzón – mechanical, calculating, clever and merciless. Benvenuti would get a rematch the following year in Monte Carlo but this time he only lasted three rounds. Monzón had gone from laconic provincial hardman to international idol.

He would defend his title 14 times without loss, a feat never matched before or since in the middleweight division. He ended his career with a professional record of 100 fights, 87 wins, 10 draws and only the three losses early in his career. Aside from Benvenuti he would clean up future Hall of Famers Emile Griffith and José Nápoles as well as every other highly rated contender of his era.

Monzón ruled the middleweight division with magnificent impunity before showing the astuteness to declare his retirement on July 30, 1977 after a tough victory against Rodrigo Valdez in Monte Carlo. Upon seeing his tattered face in the mirror after the bout, Monzón knew it was time to walk away from the sport.

The Enigma of the Ordinary Boxer who was Invincible

I was one more magician, hard as a rock to break,

I was the king of that dark club.

–Puño Loco

Even under the intense exposure that comes with being world champion, no opponent was ever able to solve the riddle of Monzón. His style was neither flashy nor flawless. Numerous contemporaries would echo Carlos Irusta’s sentiments on first catching sight of Monzón in the ring — a sound boxer but nothing extraordinary.

Brusa, his trainer and fellow inductee into the Hall of Fame, recalled with amusement this typical reaction to his charger in an interview with Gente magazine.

“After he won his ninth title defense, Mantequilla [Jose Napoles]’s trainer, Angelo Dundee – who has been in the corner for Mohammed Ali and Sugar Ray Leonard, no less – said to me, ‘Brusita, how practical this guy is! He destroys you little by little,’” said Brusa.

Monzón was able to use his lanky and seemingly ungainly physique to its full advantage, confusing his opponents with an upright stance and an array of defensive twists and grapples gleaned from Brusa’s experience as a wrestler.

Add to this the granite toughness of his frame and a deceptively destructive punch from both close range and distance, and Monzón’s opponents must have felt they were scrapping with a hellacious beast scrambled out of some unfathomable Pampas backwater.

Violence, Celebrity, Prison and Death

Like so many athletes who emerged from tough, violent backgrounds, Carlos Monzón did not have the capacity to fully submit himself to the comfortable life of fame and fortune which he had earned. In his early days as an amateur fighter he often found himself in trouble with the law. He served brief stints in prison for inciting a football riot and brawling. Rumors, often backed up by physical evidence, of abusive behavior towards the women in his life pursued him throughout his life. He was shot twice by his first wife in 1973 but recovered to continue his career.

Carlos Irusta attempts to explain the anomaly of a man so controlled within the ropes of a boxing ring and yet so wild out of it:

“He drank a lot, and you could say he was a violent drunk,” says the long time El Grafico journalist. “I believe that when he was unable to express himself with words he would respond with violence. The difference in the ring was that it was his work, and he analyzed all his aggression. He had an extraordinary coldness,” he said.

Monzón with a young Susana Giménez in the movie, La Mary

An explosive temper and gruff demeanor did not seem to make the boxer any less attractive to high-profile women while at the peak of his fame in the 1970’s. Appearing in movies only made his star burn brighter, explained Brusa in the Gente interview.

“When Carlitos made the movie ‘El Macho‘, women went crazy. They threw themselves at him,” he said.

“The actress Ursula Andress came from Los Angeles to look for him,” Brusa said, “I told him to forget about girls while he was in the ring. And he understood.”

Argentina was both scandalized and enthralled when the middleweight champion began an affair with the country’s most famous actress, Susana Giménez after the two of them had starred in the movie, La Mary together in 1974.

Monzón was still married at the time, but the relationship would continue right up until his retirement in 1977. Giménez reportedly encouraged him to quit the sport and this, along with his increasingly decadent lifestyle caused a falling out between the boxer, Brusa and Lectura. The diva, today one of Argentina’s most popular chat show hosts, was another of Monzón’s lovers whose face sometimes bore the bruises of his violent domestic outbursts. It was her rumored affair with singer and actor, Cacho Castaña that was blamed for the breakup though.

Monzón with Alicia Muníz, who he would later murder

A year after splitting with Giménez, Monzón met Alicia Muñíz, the woman who would become his second wife and mother to his child, Maximiliano. Once again the relationship would turn out to be a tumultuous one, but this time it ended in tragedy.

Though officially the pair had separated, they were together in a Mar del Plata condo in the early hours of the morning on February 14, 1988. They fought and Muñíz ended up dead, thrown from the second floor balcony. Forensic evidence showed that the ex-boxer had also strangled her before her fall. He was sentenced to 11 years in prison for murder.

“People were stupefied when it happened. It was a Sunday during summer, when there is not much news happening. Everyone was talking about how Monzón had killed Alicia. There was no talk of it having been an accident,” says Irusta.

Six years later, Monzón too was dead. Given a day’s leave of absence from prison for good behavior, he was returning by car alone in the evening of January 8, 1995 when he lost control of the vehicle. It rolled several times and Monzón died before help could arrive. Public reaction in Argentina was mixed, says Irusta.

“On the one hand, there was a group who considered him a murderer and they crucified him,” he says.

“There were others who, on the sporting side, saw him as a great champion, and as someone who looked after his family and cared about them. He always maintained that he couldn’t remember what had happened that night with Alicia. When I went to his funeral in Santa Fe, people sang, ‘dale campeon’ (Come on champion).”

“For the people of Santa Fe, he isn’t a murderer, ” says Irusta. “Aside from those horrendous events, he is Monzón, the world champion.”

I made the heavens fall, I stopped the winds,

I made them cry with just one crazy fist.

–Puño Loco

— by Dan Colasimone

A trip to McDonald’s may not be the first item on a Jewish traveler’s to-do list when arriving in a new city. But there is something special about Buenos Aires: it is home to the only kosher McDonald’s outside of Israel.

The kosher version of the golden-arched fast food chain is found in the Abasto shopping mall, in the ethnically diverse neighborhood of the same name. There are long lines on a Saturday evening following the end of the Sabbath as Jewish groups and families alike hustle for the famous burgers and fries.

Today Argentina is home to around 250,000 Jews, making it the sixth largest Jewish community in the world, and the biggest in Latin America. The number of Jewish inhabitants in Buenos Aires is equal to the combined Jewish populations of Brazil, Chile, Mexico and Uruguay.

The vast majority of Argentina’s Jewish population is now located in Buenos Aires, though smaller communities can be found in other parts of the country, especially Rosario, Córdoba and Santa Fe.

Templo Libertad in Recoleta

Buenos Aires’ Jewish community is active with synagogues, schools, youth groups, kosher restaurants and other Jewish organizations that one would expect to find in other world hubs of Judaism such as London or New York.

Much of Buenos Aires Jewish life centers around the garment district of Once and Abasto. The briefest walk through this area gives a good impression of the Jewish presence.

Among some of the most spectacular synagogues here are the Grand Temple of Paso, considered one of the most beautiful in South American and Yesod Hadath, a large Sephardic synagogue dating to 1920. Another famous synagogue is Recoleta‘s beautiful Sinagoga de la Congregación Israelita (commonly called ‘Libertad’).

Eighty-five percent of the Jews in Argentina are Ashkenazi, descending from France, Germany and Eastern Europe. The remaining 15 % are Sephardic, descendants of those from the Iberian Peninsula, the Middle East and North Africa. The majority of the Sephardic Jews in Argentina are Orthodox.

Jewish Immigration to Argentina

A smattering of Jewish settlers came to Argentina very early on, to evade the Spanish and Portuguese inquisitions. During the 16th, 17th and 18th centuries some came as ‘conversos’ or secret Jews, those whose families had converted — or feigned conversion — in the face of religious repression.

After Argentina gained independence from Spain 1816, there was a spike in Jewish immigration, mostly from France, with others coming from England and Germany.

Jewish immigration to Argentina began en masse at the end of the 1880′s with groups arriving from Eastern Europe. This period in time gave rise to the mythical Jewish gaucho: Jewish cowboys, who earned their living as farmers working the land.

In 1889, 824 Jews piled onto the SS Wesser bound for Argentina from the Ukraine. The predominately Polish group suffered a similar fate to some large groups of Irish arriving around the same time. They languished in Buenos Aires upon finding the original lands promised were not available. When they finally headed north, malnutrition and a Typhus epidemic caused the death of 67 community members, mostly children.

When the group landed in Santa Fe in 1890, the weary settlers set up the colony of Moisés Ville. The intended name for the colony was in Hebrew, Kiryat Moshe (‘Town of Moses’) but the name was Hispanized in official documents. The former city dwellers continued to struggle, living out of abandoned train wagons, and reaping little from the land.

Jewish settlers: The Trumper family

Upon learning about the retched living conditions, the wealthy German philanthropist Baron Maurice Hirsch set up the Jewish Colonization Association to help the pioneers buy land and tools. At one point the association owned 600,000 hectares of land. This enabled Moisés Ville to grow, and in turn the community built four synagogues, Jewish schools, and Argentina’s first Jewish cemetery. Today 250 Jews still reside in the town.

The next year, another Jewish colony, Colonía Mauracio was set up in Buenos Aires province. Today the sizable Algarrobos Cemetery and the simple Moctezuma synagogue are still visited by curious travelers. Entre Rios is another province that Jewish settlers established themselves in, with 11 Jewish colonies in total.

At the turn of the 20th century another wave of immigration diversified the community, with Sephardic Jews arriving from Turkey and North Africa.

In the 20th century Jewish immigration to Argentina peaked following both world wars and the Holocaust.

By the mid-1930’s the 120,000 Jews in Buenos Aires made up 5% of the city’s population. In the same decade there were Nazi Rallies held in Buenos Aires historic stadium, Luna Park.

Despite the Antisemitism of the time, by the early 1940’s Buenos Aires had a thriving Yiddish publishing industry and theater scene.

The Effect of Peronism and the Military Regime

Juan Peron’s rise to power culminating in 1946 was a delicate time for Argentina’s Jewish community. Following the Second World War at least 180 Nazis were permitted to enter Argentina. As can be evidenced at Buenos Aires Holocaust Museum, the only of its kind in South America, Argentina essentially closed its doors to Jewish immigration beginning in 1938 and stamped the passports of Jews with the Star of David.

Publicly, Perón also expressed sympathy for Jewish rights. He was the first Latin American leader to acknowledge the State of Israel, with diplomatic relations beginning in 1949. He was also the first Argentine leader to seek out Jews to act as government advisers and permit them to hold office.

According to the 1960 national census, there were 275,913 Jews living in Argentina, though it is believed that this figure was more like 310,000, representing the peak of the Argentine Jewish population in the 20th century.

Since that time the population has declined. During the military regime of 1976 to 1983 borders were once again clamped and Argentina was a particularly hostile destination. Some Jewish activists fled the country.

A study carried out by the National Commission on the Disappearance of Persons suggests that of the total of 30,000 people ‘disappeared’ under the repressive regime, 1,900 were Jewish.

Amidst the economic and industrial developments of the 20th century, the main change in Argentine Jewish life is the urbanization of the community. Today, 90% of Argentine Jews live in Buenos Aires. There are 90 synagogues in Argentina, with 35 located outside the capital.

Tragedy Strikes

The most shocking events to have affected Jewish life in Argentina took place in the early 1990s when the community was the target of the country’s two largest terrorist attacks of the last century.

On March 17, 1992 a suicide bomber drove a pickup truck loaded with explosives into the Israeli Embassy in Buenos Aires, completely destroying it and other buildings nearby. Overall, 29 people were killed and hundreds were injured. Islamic Jihad claimed responsibility for the bombing and stated that it was in retaliation for the assassination of Hezbollah Secretary General, Sayed Abbas al-Musawi. When evidence emerged in 1998 suggesting that Iran orchestrated the attack, arrest warrants were issued for six Iranian diplomats who promptly left Argentina.

Then, two years later, in July 1994, a truck loaded with explosives drove into the seven-story AMIA building (Argentine Israelite Mutual Association), a focal point of the Jewish community in Buenos Aires. Eighty-five, mostly Jewish people died and around 300 were injured.

Although the government and society at large demonstrated its support for the Jewish community in the aftermath of these events, no one has ever been held responsible for the crimes. Tehran continues to deny any Iranian involvement. A possible link has been established with Syrian millionaire, Monzer al-Kassar, an arms dealer known as the ‘Prince of Marbella’ who is serving a 30-year sentence in a US medium-security prison for his association with the Colombian militant group, FARC. In Argentina, he has only been charged with falsifying documents to obtain Argentine citizenship, which he says was facilitated by ‘unmentionable’ former Argentine President, Carlos Menem.

Jewish Life Today

Memorial at the AMIA building

Events like the terrorist bombings have had a galvanizing effect on the Jewish community. Today a powerful memorial sits at the former embassy site and the AMIA building has been rebuilt. While security has become a focal point at both buildings, the city’s synagogues, and Jewish community organizations, the events have led to improvements in the occasionally strained relationship between Jews and the population as a whole.

Anita Weinstein, Director of the Federation of Jewish Communities at AMIA, says the community has shrunken in the last 50 years due to smaller family size and a higher level of assimilation than in the past.

Emigration to Israel is another factor.

“Many ideologically-involved Argentines chose to go to Israel to help build the country,” says Weinstein.

After Argentina’s economic crisis of 2001, 25% of the Jewish middle class community fell into poverty, further motivating some to relocate. Since Argentina began diplomatic relations with Israel in 1949, an estimated 45,000 Jews have permanently relocated there.

Despite Argentina’s shrinking Jewish population, Weinstein says, “Judaism can be felt and lived in so many ways and that is still the case today. Jews feel very strongly about having played a part in building the country.”

Most practicing Jews in Argentina today are  Orthodox and Conservative, though there are a few Reform synagogues. There is also a large secular community: according to a 2005 study by the Center of Studies for Latin American Jewish Communities, an arm of the Joint Distribution Committee (JDC), the world’s leading Jewish humanitarian assistance organization, 61% of Argentine Jews today have never belonged to a Jewish organization. This growing secular group typically embraces their culture heritage, including the food, music and literature of Judaism while leaving the religious aspects aside.

“Jews understand that there is now legitimacy to their being part of Argentine society,” says Weinstein. To see the evidence, one need only to cruise through Once, take a trip to a Jewish colony such as Moisés Ville, or, — as strange as it may sound — the Kosher McDonald’s on a Saturday night.

—by Oliver Buckley

→ Jewish Sites of Interest in Argentina

Argentina’s Lionel Messi has once again won the Ballon D’Or, the ‘Golden Ball’ award given to the best footballer in the world over the past 12 months, yet one gets the feeling that the humble, self-effacing Messi would have been just as happy to pass the baton to another player.

This is the third time Messi has received the honor. Messi has made the final shortlist for the past four years and also won it in the 2009 and 2010 editions. Argentina crashed out in the Quarter Finals of the 2010 World Cup, which should have dented Messi’s chances of individual honors at year’s end. Yet ‘The Flea,’ as Messi is affectionately known, was just so good that he managed to buck the trend.

Everything points to this run of success continuing, and it won’t be a surprise if Messi wins half a dozen of the awards before his career is out.

Football fans, regardless of club or national affiliation, are often stunned by the things Messi is able to do with the ball at his feet. When watching him embark on one of his jinking, wriggling attacking forays, reactions can range from open-mouthed silence to incredulous laughter. Perhaps the most amazing thing about him, though, is that he is still only 23 years old. The peak years for a footballer are generally considered to be between the ages of 28 and 30. If this pint-sized maestro can continue on his current trajectory, by the time he retires he will no doubt be regarded one of the greatest footballers the game has ever seen, alongside mythical players like countryman Diego Maradona and Brazil’s Pelé. There are those who already consider him to be part of the pantheon:

“Messi is out of this planet, I would say he is so far ahead of the rest of the players playing right now and I would say historically as well. There are not words to describe him,” said 1978 World Cup player, Ossie Ardiles on BBC Radio 5 live.

A look at his list of achievements at such a young age helps to explain the sense of awe that surrounds him. Aside from a list of individual honors about as long as Messi is short, he has won titles with the Argentina national team at junior level and, most notably with his club side Barcelona. Apart from representing Argentina at two senior World Cups, Messi has also won an Under-20 World Cup and an Olympic gold medal in national team colors. With Barcelona he has already notched up four league titles, two European Champions League titles, one Spanish cup and the FIFA World Club Cup, as well as many more minor cup titles. He is fifth on the list of Barcelona’s all time top scorers and is the prestigious club’s highest scorer in European competition.

“His speed is astonishing, ” said Argentina teammate, Carlos Tevez. “It’s amazing how he can go 1 to 100 in just one second. I’m constantly around great players like Cristiano [Ronaldo] and [Wayne] Rooney, But this guy is just a step up above every other great footballer out there at the moment, Not only is he quick, determined, and extremely intelligent on the ball, but his movement off the ball is just as fantastic – ‘unbelievable’ to sum it up in a word.”

Little Lio

Messi’s career could have been over before it even began because his small stature once meant that no big clubs in Argentina were willing to sign him up. These days, Messi’s diminutive stature is often seen as an advantage on the field. His low center of gravity is pinpointed as one of the reasons he is able to stop on a dime and change direction instantly, sending less agile defenders reeling clumsily past like novice ice skaters.

Lionel Messi was born in Rosario, Santa Fe on 24 June, 1987 to a lower-middle class family. At the age of eight, he was recruited into Rosario club Newell’s Old Boy’s youth teams, where his considerable skills drew the attention of several big clubs. The tiny attacking midfielder suffered from a growth hormone deficiency though and Argentine teams like River Plate could not afford to pay for his treatment. Fortunately, Barcelona scouts had also spotted the talented youngster, and offered the 13-year-old Lio a trial in Spain. Barcelona’s coaching staff were impressed with what they saw, and the club offered to pay the medical bills for Messi’s family if they were willing to uproot to Catalonia. They accepted the deal and Barcelona have enjoyed the player’s loyalty ever since.

“Unstoppable”

Messi debuted in the Barcelona first team in 2003 at the remarkable age of 16-and-a-half  in a friendly match, making him the youngest ever Barcelona player at the time. His competitive debut came less than a year later when he established himself as a club superstar by scoring three goals against arch rivals Real Madrid in the 2006-07 season. Since putting early-career injury worries behind him, Messi has soared to success. His Barcelona team is regarded by many as the greatest team in history, and Messi is the jewel in the crown. The year 2010, at club level at least, was statistically his best yet. He scored an astonishing 42 goals, made 15 assists and completed 166 dribbles in the Spanish league, putting him at the top of the pile in all categories.

“He made the impossible possible. He has something exceptional. He is unstoppable. He is the best player in the world by some distance. He’s (like) a PlayStation player,” said Arsenal coach Arsene Wenger after Messi scored four goals against his team.

Messi and Argentina

Internationally, accolades for Messi have been flooding in for years but strangely, despite his talent, good-looks and affable manner, the Argentine public has taken longer to warm to him. A common gripe amongst media commentators and Argentina fans was that Messi never performed as well for the national team as he did for his club side. The theory went that he moved overseas at such a young age that he felt more Catalan than Argentine and therefore gave more to Barcelona.

Messi was often compared unfavorably to the man many in Argentina regard as a demigod, Diego Maradona. Messi, shy and retiring off the field, was said to lack the spark and leadership qualities of ‘El Diego.’ This attitude may have a lot to do with the fact that Messi never played senior football in Argentina. Most Argentine players who go on to play for big teams in Europe earn themselves a rabid fan base back home by spending a year or two with Boca, River or one of the other big teams in local football. Less talented players like Martin Palermo or Ariel Ortega, who failed to make an impression in Europe’s powerful leagues are in some ways higher profile in Argentina than Messi because they have spent years playing in the national league, and are therefore highly visible to local audiences.

Messi has gradually won over Argentine fans, though, basically because he keeps performing at a phenomenal level. Comments from Maradona himself anointing Messi as his successor have helped to convince the general populace. Although he was unable to score for Argentina at the 2010 World Cup, he was instrumental in almost all of the team’s goals, and was named by FIFA as one of the 10 best players of the tournament. Since then, he has scored a delightful goal against world champions Spain and, most importantly, won a ‘friendly’ international match against hated rivals Brazil in the last minute of the game with a breathtaking solo effort.

Since most Argentines under 30 years of age won’t remember first hand Diego Maradona’s heroics at the 1986 World Cup, and are perhaps even tiring of hearing older generations eulogize the man, Messi is becoming more and more of a next generation idol.

The only thing missing from his trophy cabinet is a World Cup. At 23, he probably has at least two tournaments left in him before he retires.

Whether he manages to pull off that feat remains to be seen. Even if he doesn’t, it’s likely that a lot of grandchildren in 50 years time will get bored to tears listening to stories of Lionel Messi, he who mesmerized the masses. Even the man who is most in love with the cult of Maradona, Diego Maradona himself, has crowned Messi as his successor:

“I have seen the player who will inherit my place in Argentine football and his name is Messi. Messi is a genius and he can become an even better player.”

—by Dan Colasimone

The Argentina World Cup 2010 team

The most famous man in Argentina has not been able to settle down to a quiet life of retirement since leaving football. Drug and weight problems have continued to dog him. He underwent gastric bypass surgery in 2005 and has been to rehab on numerous occasions, most notably in 2000 and 2004, on both occasions suffering severe damage to his heart. Despite quitting drugs since, Maradona’s most recent trip to hospital was in 2007, after a binge of drinking, smoking cigars and eating to excessive levels saw his body collapse once more. He has also publicly supported Fidel Castro (and has the tattoo to prove it) and controversial Venezuelan leader, Hugo Chavez. He declared on the latter’s TV program, “I hate everything that comes from the United States. I hate it with all my strength.”

On a less serious note, he has continued a running battle over the years with the other ‘greatest player of all time,’ Pele. The two trade insults regularly through the media, although the highlight (or lowlight) was probably when Pele fired a few barbs Diego’s way about his moral standards, and Maradona responded by telling Marca, “What do you want me to say? He lost his virginity to a man!”

In spite of all the controversy, Maradona remains immensely popular in Argentina. Argentinian psychologist and author Gustavo Bernstein wrote in his book, Maradona: Iconografia de la Patria (Icon of the Nation), “No one embodies our essence more. Argentina is Maradona. Maradona is Argentina.”

A group called ‘The Church of Maradona’ claims to be an official religion and boasts 100,000 members. For them, year zero is the year their idol was born— 1960.

For a few months in 2005, he even hosted his own talk show, “The Night of 10” (after his playing number) which scored sensational ratings throughout its run of 13 episodes. Guests included Fidel Castro, Mike Tyson and even Pele (the two were remarkable civil, even chummy, on this occasion).

It is this very popularity that earned Diego Maradona, an almost completely inexperienced trainer, the unlikely opportunity to coach his beloved Argentina at the World Cup. With the team struggling in qualifiers, and previous coach Alfio Basile deciding to quit his post, Argentinian Football Federation members decided to pander to popular will and name Maradona as the next coach. The decision was met with disbelief throughout the footballing world, and even among a lot of Argentina fans. They were prepared to love him as a player, but could someone whose behavior could be described as, at best, erratic, actually lead the powerful national team to success? In the end, despite the talent of the Argentina team, the answer was no.

Maradona has overseen a typically unpredictable qualifying campaign, which saw the team suffer heavy defeats to the mighty Brazil, and the minnows Bolivia. Eventually in the preliminary rounds the crucial games were won, though, Diego once again courted controversy by telling critical journalists that they could, “Suck it, and keep sucking it!” Before naming his, of course surprising, final squad to take to the tournament in South Africa, Diego managed to run over a cameraman’s leg in his car. Rather than stopping to apologize, he drove off shouting, “What an asshole you are! How could you put your leg under the wheel, man?”

Whatever happens after the World Cup, if it involves Maradona, it is guaranteed to be entertaining. He will no doubt continue to surprise the world. He probably even surprises himself sometimes.

In a grainy interview in 1975 with a pubescent Maradona, he comes across as shy but determined. “I have two dreams,” he says with self-assurance that contains none of his later braggadocio. “My first dream is to play in the World Cup. And the second dream is to win it.” Even that shaggy-haired teenager, already confident in his own talent, probably didn’t dare to imagine that one day he would be entrusted to lead Argentina to the World Cup, not as a player, but as the guy in the suit: the coach.  The tournament in South Africa proved that greatness on the field does not necessarily translate to greatness off it, however.  Maradona, who constantly claimed that God was on his side during Argentina’s campaign, was demoralized to the point of tears after his team’s loss to Germany in the quarter final.  After calls by many for Maradona to step down as coach, the Argentinian Football Federation chief, Julio Grondona refused to fire him, saying, “The decision depends on Maradona.  The only person in Argentina who can do whatever he wants is Diego.” Yes, that sounds about right, actually.

—by Dan Colasimone

Diego Maradona’s life, like others who have fought their way out of extreme poverty to stand with the world at their feet, has followed a story arc that has included many profound lows to go along with the highs. Daniel Arcucci, sports editor of La Nacion told the Associated Press, “Everything about Maradona is exaggerated — the good and the bad. As a player he was number one. He can be charming, but in his private life he broke all the rules.”

During his career, he certainly found himself in trouble with the authorities often enough. From the time he arrived in Europe to play with Barcelona, his cockiness and refusal to back down from a fight saw him clash with the club’s management. It was at this time that Diego began to take cocaine on a regular basis, although the problem would become more apparent later. His tenure at the club ended in disgrace after Barcelona lost the 1983 Cup Final. After the full-time whistle he was the main protagonist in an all-in brawl with almost the entire Bilboa team. In footage of the incident, he can be seen launching fly kicks into numerous opposition players like a miniature martial arts expert in a 70’s kung-fu movie, afro and all. He received a lengthy ban for his violent performance, and decided he would rather quit Spanish football than serve out his suspension, thus facilitating the surprise move to Napoli.

At the Italian club, Maradona found that though he was a god on the pitch, in real life he remained a man. His marriage to his childhood sweetheart, Claudia Villafane (whom he would later divorce) was starting to turn sour and his cocaine addiction began to get out of hand, earning rebukes from club directors. Rumors of close ties to the Neapolitan mafia, The Camorra, followed him, and he also found time to father an illegitimate son, Diego Jr., whom he later admitted– with much insistence– to being his own. Paternity payouts and tax evasion claims still hang over him in Italy from those days.

Towards the end of his time at Napoli, Maradona’s performance suffered due to his drug problems, and weight gain. Eventually, in 1991, he was busted in a drug test, and received a 15-month ban, ending his days in the Italian league. He would never return to complete his contract with Napoli, but he did continue playing, albeit with a little less magic than before. He was still good enough to make the Argentinian team for the 1994 World Cup, despite being found guilty of firing an air rifle at journalists outside his home in the meantime. That tournament would prove to be his last at an international level, however, as he was again caught for doping, testing positive to ephedrine and promptly kicked out of the World Cup.

After scoring a superb goal in a game against Greece in the first round, he famously celebrated by running towards a TV camera screaming with elation, eyes bulging out of his head. The image has become an iconic one in Argentina, and serves as a reminder to many there about how many times Maradona, despite being the people’s hero, has also frequently disappointed a great many of his fans. Argentina failed to recover from the loss of their star, and were soon bundled out of the tournament.

→ cont. reading: Maradona — Life After Soccer

The only positive to come out of Argentina’s humiliating 0-4 loss to the Germans in the 2010 World Cup Quarter Finals is that at least the nation’s citizens didn’t have to undergo the ordeal of seeing once great footballer, Diego Maradona run through the streets of Buenos Aires naked, as he had promised to do if the Argentina team he was coaching won the tournament. He may be off drugs but outrageous behavior is nothing new for this one-time street urchin from the shantytown of Villa Fiorito whose life and career have been decorated with almost as much controversy as brilliance.

In the end, the 2010 World Cup ended in tears for ‘El Diego’, but who would have imagined that such a rule-breaker would even end up in such a distinguished position as national team coach? Who would have thought that a man who has spent his entire adult life fighting against the establishment, would one day become a part of it?

The guy who once sported dinky little shorts and an afro as he scored the infamous ‘Hand of God’ goal with his clenched fist now wears a dodgy gray-flecked beard as he paces the sidelines, looking like someone who has been forced to put on a suit for a court appearance. He may have been to rehab countless times, but adoring fans all over the world prefer to focus on his on-field triumphs, which have led many to consider him the greatest player of all time, and earned him the nickname ‘God.’

His Career

Diego Armando Maradona learned to play soccer on the dusty streets of the villa miseria (slum) known as Fiorita. It was there that, as a slightly tubby ten-year-old, his dazzling ball skills won him a place in the local junior team, a feeder for first division club, Argentinos Juniors. His prodigious talent meant that it was not too long before people realized that he was something special.

His first coach, Francisco Cornejo, describes the first time he saw young Diego doing tricks with the ball. “I looked at his parents, and said ‘He’s strange, right?’ And they looked at me and said, ‘Yep, he’s strange.’”

At the ridiculously young age of 16, Maradona made his debut in the Argentinian top division for Argentinos Juniors. His star shone brightly for the next five seasons, and he managed to rack up 143 goals and earn himself a dream move to his favorite club, Boca Juniors. He only spent one year in his first stint with the team he is most associated with in Argentina, as the big European clubs came knocking on Boca’s door.

In 1982, Maradona transferred to Barcelona, of Spain, but he most famously starred in Europe for modest Italian team Napoli, leading them to two championships in 1986/87 and 1989/90. His status for Napoli fans, and many Italians in general, is on a par with the adoration he receives back in his homeland. With his personal life spiraled out of control, Diego eventually returned to Argentina and his beloved Boca Juniors (after one season with Newell’s Old Boys) to play out his remaining years.  His brilliant career was acknowledged in 2000 when he was awarded the title of ‘Player of the Century’ (to be shared with Brazilian great, Pele) by the sport’s governing body, FIFA, after topping a worldwide internet vote.

→ cont. reading Dan Colasimone’s: Maradona: Goal of the Century

In the bleak Buenos Aires neighborhood of Chacarita, in a tree-lined plaza just outside the country’s largest cemetery, a cluster of bright red clearly marks the location of a Gauchito Gil shrine. Old women come to place flowers in front of the glass-encased statuette of Gil. A youth in his late teens sits drinking wine from a cardboard carton, talking solemnly with his girlfriend. Every few minutes she limps over to the shrine to relight a candle, revealing a tattoo of the gaucho on her calf. A man cleans the glass front of the shrine, and scrapes away the red wax that is forming a puddle on the ground. His name is Juan, and he is in charge of keeping the shrine neat, he explains. “People come here because Gauchito Gil has a gift,” says Juan. “He cures people and he protects them. They come here to ask for his help.” Asked why people believe in Gil, he is frank. “Because he is miraculous. They see evidence of what he does and they have to believe. Truck drivers ask for safe passage; it’s even common for robbers to ask him for help before they go thieving. The important thing is that if you ask for something, you do something for him in return.”

Fabian Amarillo, who has come to the shrine with his wife and small children, doesn’t entirely agree. “I don’t ask for anything from the Gaucho,” he says. “He is a friend. He’s always by my side. He gives me help without me asking for it. I say hello to him, and pay tribute to him with little shrines in my house. I have him here on my chest.” Fabian reveals a large tattoo of Gil covering his chest and stomach. “I don’t believe he helps the thieves when they ask him. He helps people to move forward with their lives. He helped me to move forward.”

In a strongly Catholic country, it may seem unusual that a figure not endorsed by the church could be so widely revered as a Saint. Firstly, it is worth noting that many Catholics don’t buy into the Gauchito Gil cult at all, sticking to the official church line. There are even doubts as to whether Antonio Gil was a real person, as there is little historical evidence to support the story. But the fact that so many choose to believe in his powers is not so surprising when one considers that in Argentina, and Latin America in general, Gauchito Gil is just one of many folk saints that are worshiped by large sections of the populace without regard to the official church position. Niño Fidencio, for example, is a healing folk saint who commands a huge following in Mexico and southern Texas, performing his miracles through earthly mediums.

The one pagan saint in Argentina to rival Gauchito Gil for popularity is Difunta Correa, whose cult emerged several decades earlier in the province of San Juan. Her story is another of resilience in the face of corrupt authority: When her sick husband was forcibly recruited into the army, she set off after the troops with her infant baby in order to save him, following their tracks through the desert. She was overcome by the elements, however, and died, but miraculously her baby survived for several days by feeding on her still-full breast, until he was found by roaming gauchos.

Gauchito Gil shrine

Frank Graziano, Professor of Hispanic studies at Connecticut College and author of ‘Cultures of Devotion: Folk Saints of Spanish America,’ explains via email the three main reasons why so many people become devotees: “They believe that folk saints are more miraculous than canonized saints (folk saints get the job done, sometimes after request to catholic saints fail); freedom of devotion, which is to say without the mediation, restrictions, and cost of priests; and what they call ‘lo nuestro,’ meaning that the saint is ‘one of us,’ part of their community, and therefore has shared their social situation and understands their requests. Remember too that folk saints supplement Catholicism rather than replacing it,” he says.

In a way, the anti-authoritarian image of Antonio Gil makes it irrelevant to his followers whether his saintliness is acknowledged by the Church or not. Like the other folk saints, his popularity stems in part from his image as a rebel who was killed by — but never subservient to — the powers that be. It’s clear he belongs to the people, not the Church or the State. He is as relevant to farmers and peasants in the poor provinces who feel ignored by the centralized government as he is to the residents of the Buenos Aires slums who reference him in Hip Hop and Cumbia songs, and also feel like they too, are no part of the establishment.

“We believe in many lies in this world, we even believe in politicians,” reasons Fabian at the shrine in Chacarita. “What does it matter to me what they say about Gauchito Gil. I see what he does every day with my own eyes. My faith is limitless – I feel it in my soul.”

—by Dan Colasimone

Argentina is home to South America’s largest Irish community and the world’s fifth largest among the Irish diaspora. The true number are Irish descendants is unknown due to poor record keeping during the early immigration wave. The fact that the Irish were counted as English until 1920 only further confuses things.

When the Irish first arrived in Argentina they retained a strong cultural identity but after a couple of generations most integrated with Argentines and many average citizens lost touch with their Irish roots, but in recent years there has been a surge of interest in Irish culture. For visitors, this can be most noticeably witnessed on Saint Patrick’s Day and among the young people in Irish pubs of the Retiro neighborhood of Buenos Aires, where the Guinness and Irish whiskey flows and U2 cover bands play late into the night.

Irish Immigration to Argentina

Beginning with the Great Potato Famine in 1845, Irish looking to escape hunger and English oppression often faced the choice between emigrating to the United States or Argentina, both economically promising countries at the time. The more adventurous chose Argentina. Argentina presented a better option economically and a less discriminatory atmosphere, but Irish immigrants to Argentina would have to contend with a new culture and  language.

Argentina courted Irish immigrants because of their reputations as hard-workers with experience in agriculture and sheep herding. The Irish who dreamed of life on the Argentina Pampa were looking to escape famine and religious persecution and Argentina was a Catholic country with plenty of land.

In the late 19th century Irish immigrants founded the Hurling Club, playing their first tournaments of the hockey-like sport in what is now known as Plaza Irlanda in the Caballito neighborhood. When it became impossible to import Hurling sticks during World War I many moved over to hockey and rugby, but currently an effort is underway to revive the sport in Buenos Aires.

Of course wherever there are Irish there are bound to be priests and nuns, and they founded some of Buenos Aires’ most established schools including Collegio Fahy, San Brendan and Santa Brígida. The Southern Cross, a Buenos Aires-based newspaper originally published in English, Spanish and Gaelic and founded in 1875, is still being published today.

The Dresden Affair

As with every Irish story, there is tragedy woven within the rather complex story of Irish-Argentine history. In this case it’s the 1889 ‘Dresden Affair.’

Some 2000 poor Irish, mostly from the counties of Dublin and Cork, were shipped in terrible conditions to Argentina – many didn’t make the 19-day voyage. Once they arrived, the country was ill equipped to handle the remaining passengers, especially because the formally profitable sheep industry was in decline. At first the immigrants were housed in stables in the Retiro neighborhood. Children who had been separated from — or lost — their parents were left to fend for themselves and lone girls were forced into prostitution in the red-light district of Constitución. Around 800 remaining were send to Bahia Blanca to set up the Irish Colony of Napostá, but it is one of the few areas of the country that is unfavorable to agriculture and after such a terrible journey and rough start in Argentina, within a year those who could went back to Ireland or emigrated to other countries.

The Dresden Affair effectively ended Irish immigration to Argentina. In 1889, Archbishop of Cashel, T.W. Croke wrote in a Dublin newspaper:

“I most solemnly conjure my poorer countrymen, as they value their happiness hereafter, never to set foot on the Argentine Republic however tempted to do so they may be by offers of a passage or an assurance of comfortable homes.”

Lasting Influence

Irish immigration has had a lasting effect on Argentine culture even though immigration dropped off after the Dresden Affair. The ‘Latin’s of Northern Europe’ share with Argentines traits of friendliness, passionate self-expression, sometimes hot tempers and love of spirits, music and gatherings.

Irish-Argentine, Alejandro Perry, a student of Irish Step Dance at the Fahy Club in Belgrano typifies the renewed interest in Celtic culture among Irish descendants here.

“When I turned 40 I begun to have an interest in my Irish roots. I started to read about the Druids, Irish mythology and history. The culture interests me because of the music, the dance, the love of poetry, the values and respect for nature. It all coincided with a spiritual journey — I began to discover who I am and why I am the way I am.”

Perry, like many Irish-Argentines, has a family story that stretches between Ireland, the United States and Argentina. His grandfather was born in the United States of Irish parents but came to Argentina in the early 19th century. “My grandfather became a professor at the University of La Plata and married the university director’s daughter. He was able to establish a good life here.”

When Perry first walked into the Fahy Club he says, “I felt right at home. Even the style of the house and the garden remind me of my grandfather’s house and I feel comfortable there. My biggest dream is to go to Ireland one day.”

Ireland’s unprecedented economic growth in recent decades and the exportation of Irish music such as U2 and the Chieftains may have had a hand in the increased interest in Irish culture in Argentina.

“I think the Irish are open-minded and creative. The best example of this is how they built up their economy in the 90′s while a lot of other countries like Argentina were going down the tubes,” says Perry. “They used creativity to develop the country economically without sacrificing their culture, something that, with globalization, a lot of other country’s have not been able to do.”

— Click here to read about 2012 St. Patrick’s Day Celebrations in Buenos Aires

Rodolfo Walsh Plaza in the Buenos Aires neighborhood of San Telmo

Famous Irish-Argentines

The recently deceased Maria Elena Walsh with President Kichner