martes

As the subway train pulled in, the entire station was shaking in time, as if we'd been transported into the ventricle of a thudding heart. The rhythm made whatever was going on up above seem both enormous and ominous. Would I be crushed to death at the top of the stairs, or would I just be confronted with extravagent violence? But in the streets, though the drums were closer and louder, the streets were cleared of traffic, and the labor syndicates--and their bands--seized the boulevards to march toward the Plaza de Mayo under the blue sky. Chanting, shouting, singing, flags a-waving, they streamed into the square. Deposited into the churning throng, the rainbow eddied and bled, and the cacophony increased.

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I hung back, not wanting to get mixed up in anything I didn't fully understand. I'd been having lunch at the neighborhood deli when the television announced, to wrinkled old men and children on their lunch hour, that everyone should come to the Plaza at four that afternoon. I obeyed. In many countries in the world, mass demonstrations are held in protest of government policy. In Argentina, they manifest in support of the government. Cristina had raised export taxes on many agricultural products; the middle class, industrial farmers had responded by blockading the roads so that no fresh meat or produce was reaching the capital. The labor class supported the higher taxes, however, on the theory that the revenue would be redistributed and that family farmers would be at an advantage. Cristina called the protest to show how broad her support base was, to pressure the farmers to lift the blockade.



In atmosphere, the Plaza resembled a carnival on the verge of anarchy. Cracking shots echoed as fireworks exploded; smoke drifted between the balloons tethered to the fountains and monuments. Vendors sold fried sweets from carts piled high, and old friends greeted each other with ferocious embraces. Men climbed trees for a vantage toward the Casa Rosada, where the stage was set for Cristina's address.



News helicopters choppered overhead, nervous and frantic as they swooped in and out. They disturbed flocks of birds resting on the roof of the cathedral, who added their own shrieks to the din, pushed and jostling just like the people below.











Leaflets littered the gutters and blanketed the asphalt. The government had prepared well, providing water trucks for thirsty unionists.