From the Comunas to the Villas

Argentina is a city of immigrants.  Of course it all began with Spanish colonization in the 1500s, but what many people do not realize is that there was a huge wave of immigration from Europe in the 19th century.  A large percent of people in this era arrived from Italy; however, there is a sizable number of Jews and Germans that sought refuge in Argentina before and after World War II.  In fact, Argentina has the largest Jewish population in all of Latin America.  Lately, immigration has still been relatively steady with most of the influx coming from Bolivia, Peru, and other Latin American countries as well as Asia.  Because of these waves of immigration, Argentina has the second largest population of immigrants behind the United States.  Now where do all of these immigrants settle? None other than the port city of Buenos Aires, of course.

All this to say, Buenos Aires is home to a wide variety of people.  It is because of this diversity, that I, thankfully, do not stand out, at least at first glance.  If someone were to see me sitting on the bus(keeping my mouth shut) I would pass quite easily for a Porteño. 

Buenos Aires, however, is not necessarily a melting pot.  Each immigrant has brought an ingredient to the table that has retained its unique flavor.  This uniqueness is obvious in the very geography of the city.  Buenos Aires is made up of fourteen different "comunas" or neighborhoods.  Each comuna has a different flavor of sorts, and these past few weeks I have had the honor of  taste testing each of them.   

I have nearly seen it all, from tangoes in the vibrant comuna of La Boca to an orchestra concert in the distinguished comuna of Palermo.  However, the place that has awed me the most does not belong to either of these.  In fact, it is does not belong to a comuna at all.  On the outskirts of the city, immigrants have "squatted" and built their own houses with whatever materials are available.  This is called a "villa" or a slum. 

Villas aren't even given names because they aren't recognized as neighborhoods.  Instead, they are given numbers.  I had the opportunity to not only see but walk up and down the muddy avenues of a villa called Villa Veinte or Slum Twenty.  Stepping over dogs and people and rubble, I made my way into another world. 

I may forget the color of the dress of the tango dancer in La Boca and what the orchestra played in Palermo, but I will never forget the faces of the people of Villa Veinte.  I don't think you can ever forget something like that, and I don't think we should.  My visit to the villa reminded me of how wealthy I am, not just in the financial sense, but the spiritual as well.  I have more to offer these people than just money.  I have Christ who is worth more than all the riches in the world.