"The Rain in Spain," or Notes about Language

The portenos (occupants of Buenos Aires), when they speak, are frequently all but impossible for me to understand. Yesterday, I struggled to communicate with this very simpatico young student. I would pick up on the occasional word, but I just couldn´t follow his train of thought. I think if I stayed in B.A. long enough and listened to enough portenos, I would begin to understand them. They seem to have no trouble understanding me and I have no trouble understanding those who can switch to "high Spanish." This includes almost every one that deals with tourists. However, bus drivers, people on the street, etc., are a different story.

For example, the phrase " 2 calles en la villa" usually sounds like:
dos cah-yays en la bee-ya.
In porteno, it sounds like:
dosh cah-zhaysh en la bee-zha.
For those that have experienced what I´m talking about you know exactly what I mean and may have had to suppress laughing out loud.
Actually, this example would be relatively easy to understand, especially in context. However, they also use expressions which I just haven´t heard before but which I could piece together and figure out if I could see them in print. Speaking of print, in every newspaper article, there are at least a couple of words which I can´t find in my dictionary.
One of the reasons why this bugs me is that B.A. has a great number of live performance theatres ( as in several dozen!!). I would LOVE to go to the theater often, if I could be sure I could understand it.

Having spent one whole week in B.A., I´m going to leap into the ether and make some broad generalizations regarding portenos. I apologize in advance for those much more knowledgable than me and ask your indulgence.
The portenos remind me a little bit of New Yorkers. At first contact, many of them have this gruff sort of in-your-face presentation. Some gringos say they are just arrogant. I don´t agree. Some examples. When I first walked into the little hotel I stayed in for a week, the owner greeted me at the desk in his narrow entryway with a curt sort of "What do you want?" There I stood, with my backpack, standing at the desk of the hotel. Why else would I be there if I didn´t want a room?

A couple of days ago I asked about a book in a bookstore. The young salesperson found it, held it up for me to see with a grunt, and said very confrontationally "9 pesos." I realize you´re thinking that doesn´t sound confrontational at all. However, the way he said it, and the way he continued standing there, continuing to hold onto the book, indicated to me that this remark was intended to goad me into responding, maybe even in a semi-argumentative way, so that we could launch into a discussion of the merits of the book. I´m afraid I let him down because I just can´t keep up in porteno Spanish.

The irony of all this is that when that initial "attitude" is broken, the portenos can turn out to be very warm. On my second day in the hotel, I asked the owner where I could find a laundromat. He very gruffly pointed in some vague direction and said "2 blocks away." About half an hour later, he called me in the room, again very gruffly, to say that he had called the laundromat and , because it was Sunday, they would be closing early at 6 p.m. He thought I would want to know.

By the time I left, after a week, he was shaking my hand, wishing me a good journey, and hoping I´ll return soon.

Many of the bus drivers fall into this pattern too. I´ll ask them to tell me when the bus gets to my stop and they act like they´re ignoring me. Then, sure enough, as the bus is screeching to one of its stops, he yells to me "your stop!"

My conclusion: Buenos Aires is a wonderful place to visit but......

Tomorrow: Uruguay!