The Cordilleras rolled out like centuries from one end of the horizon to the other. In front of them, clouds veiled the snowy caps. The rain rushed down off the mountain range and into the irrigation channels. The water rose by the minute and the sound of the rushing water could be heard from all over the posada. Dark patches on the sides of the adobe buildings would slowly grow larger from absorbing the cold rain. The wind also came down from the mountain range, every day at four in the afternoon. Like clockwork. The locals called the wind conchabado, which means hired, because of its taste for punctuality. We had to shut the windows and the doors before the conchabado came, else our…
Fiction & Opinion by Jeff Campagna
Posts tagged “argentina”
In a small room above a funky little shop in San Telmo, a meeting is about to begin. One by one, members of The Net Party filter in. They kiss each other on the cheek and help themselves to beer in plastic cups. I get swept up in the cheek kissing. After thirty or forty kisses, I start to wonder how many members are in The Net Party. It feels a bit like a receiving line at an Italian wedding. Eventually, the room fills up and those in attendance take their seats along the green leather banquette, or on the bar, or on the floor, or anywhere there is space, really. It’s the party’s first meeting since last year’s election and there is an…
“Walter Gropius,” I say to the doorman who looks a bit like Mike Ehrmantraut from Breaking Bad. We’re standing in a dark, closet-sized antechamber just off a quiet street in Palermo Hollywood, Buenos Aires. Outside, there is a big black door with a discreet sign that reads, simply, “Franks.” Satisfied with the password, Mike Ehrmantraut nods his head for me to proceed into the next room. “Adelante,” he whispers. In the next room stands a beautiful woman in a black dress with a pearl necklace and Ferrari-red lips. This is Victoria. Behind her, at the back of the dark room, is an old NYC telephone booth. Victoria gives me a cliff-notes history on speakeasies and then tells me that when the phone rings I…