Hooligans

Sarah and I spent all day last Sunday walking around, checking out the sites and shooting video. It was a prefect day, sunny in the mid -70s. Not a care in the world as we strolled the safe-ish avenues of Buenos Aires.

Then we got to the district called La Boca. It's a working class neighborhood south of downtown, home to Buenos Aires' most popular soccer team, the Boca Juniors. It's not really a bad neighborhood, it just can be dangerous in parts. We actually went to a game a few weeks ago without incident. We paid some guy to take us and a bunch of other tourists to the game and back, but this Sunday, we were on our own.

As the cab driver dropped us off, he gave repeated instructions to be careful with our camera. I shoot with a somewhat expensive video camera. It also looks expensive, which never helps. The helpful cab driver then proceeded to give us detailed instructions (which neither of us could understand) about taking this road, and not that one, and then making a left on this street, and blah blah blah. He was trying to keep us safe, which got me worried. We look like tourists carrying expensive video equipment in our backpacks. You might as well put a bulls-eye on my forehead.

Trying to look inconspicuous, we passed four shirt-less guys talking to each other in the middle of the street. I thought they looked pretty drunk, especially for two in the afternoon, but what the hell, I thought, it's game day. Then suddenly, we heard a loud boom right behind us. I turned and saw the fat shirtless guy on the ground. Apparently, long-haired shirtless guy had just thrown him into an unsteady garage door. And now long haired shirtless guy was kicking the other guy repeatedly, in the face.

"Oh my God. Oh my God." Sarah had broke into a speed walk.

"Come on honey, let's get out of here."

We hustled up the the street as the other two "buddies" yelled obscenities in Spanish at each other. I'm pretty sure that argument also ended up with someone getting kicked in the face.

We reached a corner where hundreds of guys had congregated. Apparently, they were just hanging out before going into the stadium. But it wasn't your average "have a few beers, throw the football around" kind of tailgate party. These guys we're moving in packs. Plus, all the low flying smoke from the homemade grills made the scene look like a refugee camp. And here I stood right in the middle of the action deciding whether or not to take out my camera. Since everyone seemed to be leering at us, I decided to keep it in the bag.

"I think we should go," I said.

"So we're NOT going to shoot anything?"

"I don't think so."

"But we came all the way down here."

"Yea, I know, but I just really don't feel safe here." Did she not see that whole face kicking thing?

"All right, but it just feels like a waste, you know?"

Yea I know, I thought. But I was also thinking that all one hundred lbs. of her weren't going to help when it was my turn to get kicked in the face.

"We'll come back during the week, when it's a little more quiet."

"Fine."

"Thanks for understanding hon."

-Brendan

Comments

holly shit! girls just don't think about getting their ass beatup!

Scary!

I found a blog today about another couple on an around the world honeymoon. They are in Buenos Aires right now, too.

http://bradanderintravel.blogspot.com/index.html