Today I gathered with thousands of pissed off citizens in Republic Square, primed to march to the Labor Ministry, demanding free and democratic unions, and the reinstatement of fired Kraft workers.
It was huge. Just when I thought everyone was here and we were ready to go, I looked over the hedge, and saw this gang coming down the street:
And look! It's actually the media, right where they should be:
(Now please don't put me on the news; my boss would flip.)
Then, at the starting line of the best protest I'd ever been to, it happened -- my camera battery died. Now I'm left trying to describe, in less than a thousand words, what my camera does in the flash of a shutter. Ahhh! The pressure! Okay. (Here are some photos of the setup, if you prefer).
The energy was off the chain. The march was so loud I couldn't hear myself chant (which is fine, since I didn't really know the words). There were trombones and trumpets and fireworks. Every tenth person had a drum, and when they coalesced, my insides would shake. There was juggling... and peanuts! At one end of the march there were workers with their arms thrown over each other's shoulders, at the other, groups of grown men chanting and jumping in unison, and all throughout, lines of people linked arm-in-arm that spanned the width of the street. Old curmudgeons couldn't wipe the grins off their faces.
This is clearly something that they do here, and they are damn good at it.
The array of organizations and contingents was overwhelming. Even my very own subway line (I live here now, it's mine) was represented. Solidarity among subway lines was demonstrated with signs like Ni mejores ni peores; diferentes; La "D" and Uno es todo; Somos uno; La "A" while one contingent claimed to be La loca banda; La "E" and another simply declared that they were here: La "H" presente.
Without permits or other bureaucratic nonsense, we cut (took) the streets. With no regard for traffic, we completely shut down Avenida Corrientes, a six-lane vein in the heart of the city center, and we swarmed restaurant patios with impunity. The banks on the street were all gated off (with a cute little hole for customers to crawl through), and I'm pretty sure I saw envy on the faces of the suits standing behind the gates, watching.
The best part of the day? Practically pigless! No riot gear, no tear gas, no belligerent machismo for miles. I counted SIX cops on motorcycles that blocked traffic as we rounded a corner, but while a demonstrator spray-painted pro-worker slogans on the street, yards away, they chatted. I also caught a glimpse of a horde of riot police lurking behind the gates of the Labor Ministry waiting for a showdown, but unlike riot cops in the states, they only played defense.
Though the largest protest in the city today, it was not alone. Elsewhere, Kraft workers blocked a highway; nightclub owners blocked streets in protest of a government-imposed 5:30 AM closing call; pensioners, former inmates, and port workers protested other things at other places. Just another Wednesday in Buenos Aires, Argentina.
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