As someone who has never stayed in a foreign country for more than four consecutive weeks, I made the decision to study abroad for a semester with the hopes of becoming immersed in a completely new culture. Argentina seemed like the perfect place for me, as I’d have the opportunity to hone my Spanish-speaking skills while also taking advantage of big city life in Buenos Aires.
Though I haven’t been here for too long, I can already tell that the semester will exceed all of my previous expectations. However, amidst the honeymoon phase where everything feels new and exciting, I’ll admit that some aspects of Argentine culture took some getting used to. Having to hail down buses, kissing someone’s cheek with every greeting and wearing my backpack on my chest to protect my belongings all felt a little strange at first. But once I got used to all that, everything else seemed to fall into place fairly quickly. I started feeling more at home, and in a global city like Buenos Aires, there is not much you won’t be able to find, except for one thing. The one tiny thing that the city is missing happens to be the one thing I need to get through the day: coffee, on the go.
I have yet to see a single person walking down the street holding a cup of coffee, and it is alarming. While this may sound dramatic, you have to understand that coffee cups are practically an extension of my arm at this point. I’ve become so accustomed to getting coffee in Brody before my 9 a.m. class and then getting coffee at Gilman after lunch and then making coffee in my Keurig to take with me to my descent into C Level. Cafés in Argentina simply do not have the option of taking coffee “para llevar” or “to go,” which is distressing.
It’s not just me, and it’s not just Hopkins students who are so used to running around and getting caffeinated at the same time. Americans are used to rushing, to following a schedule. The only reason I’ve noticed this is because I am now studying in a country with an incredibly relaxed atmosphere, which is something I’m experiencing for the first time.
For an Argentine, getting coffee means taking a break. It means you are forced to sit down, drink your coffee, relax and then carry on with your day. Never is it something that is on the go or that overlaps with other errands of the day. Cafés don’t have lines to order; you simply sit down and wait for the waiter to come to you, eliminating the possibility of rushing out the door as soon as you get your hands on a latte. It is a nice feeling to order an espresso at a café and continue to sit for the next four hours reading a book. There’s no pressure to vacate your seat as soon as you’ve paid the bill, and waiters never come to “check-in” on you. Here, your time is your own.
It now doesn’t surprise me that other countries tend to perceive Americans as uptight and overworked. Not that it’s a fault in our culture or that we should work to completely change it, just that the stark contrast of going from such an academically demanding university to a country where people take three-hour coffee breaks is a welcome change.
Still, it seems highly unlikely that we will completely abandon the American work ethic over the course of the semester. An American friend of mine went to a nearby café this past weekend to do some homework, and the waiter approached her to ask if she’s from the U.S. When she asked him how he knew, he responded, “Only an American would work on Sunday.” Oh well, I guess we’ll never totally fit in.
One of the only major coffee places in Buenos Aires that serves coffee to-go is Starbucks, but I’ll probably go there only in my darkest hour of desperation. Until then, I look forward to embracing the Porteña life by moving a little slower, exploring a little more and sitting down and enjoying my coffee because hey, it’s not like I have anywhere to be.
