Berkley Center

When I moved to the other end of the world, I expected to encounter my own privilege as a US American, but I did not imagine it would come in the form of a menu. In Argentina, menus rarely have prices printed on them; rather, there are blank spaces where prices are scribbled on. If a restaurant was actually foolish enough to print prices, they are taped over and replaced. The reason is simple: no one can expect costs to be stable for very long. Last year inflation hovered around 30 percent, and in the mere month I’ve been in Argentina it has risen by about 4 percent.

That level of inflation is worrying in and of itself, but the government’s refusal to accurately report it is almost as problematic. Famous for fudging numbers, INDEC, Argentina’s official statistics bureau, under-represented inflation by 20 percent last year. Beyond making it look incompetent to the rest of the world, it means workers’ salaries did not rise with real inflation, and ordinary Argentines can buy less and less with their pay checks every month. Protests by workers demanding fair pay increases are a frequent occurrence. After a particularly loud one disturbed one of my classes at Universidad Católica de Córdoba, I asked one of my Argentine classmates to explain it and he acted as if it was as normal and inevitable as a summer storm. Similarly, most Argentines I’ve spoken to have no faith that their government will prevent an impending economic catastrophe. One of my professors even told us that he was prepared for the whole currency to collapse, probably around 2015, and that it was fine because, as an Argentine, he was used to it.

I and other US American exchange students have certainly noticed the markup in prices, the taped up menus, and social media complaints of our new friends, but we are still shielded from the uncertainty Argentines face. Some of this is due to the relatively short-term length of our stay; after all, no matter what happens in Argentina in the next few months we will go back to our generally price stable country. More immediately, we benefit from the illicit currency trade. The blue market is driven by the government’s restriction on the ability of Argentines to legally change their pesos to US dollars as an investment to mitigate the risk of rising inflation. The black market for currency that has emerged gives American tourists twelve pesos per US dollar, rather than the seven we would get through official channels. This rate more than makes up for inflation, so we are able to easily absorb rising costs. However, this does not help those receiving paychecks in fragile pesos.

Despite Argentina’s history of financial trouble and its people’s lack of trust in their government and currency, there is a new sign of hope. While at a downtown café last Friday morning, I noticed many Argentines, who are typically immersed in their newspapers, were focused intently on the television. Political pundits were describing how the day before, the Argentine government had released its first somewhat accurate assessment of monthly inflation in years, reporting that for inflation for January reached 3.7 percent. According to the Miami Herald, private economists put it closer to 4.6 percent, but for Argentines this still represents the first time Cristina Kirchner’s government has actually recognized the problem. Perhaps it is a sad sign of the times that this simple acknowledgement causes hope and excitement, but without better accountability from the Argentine government, the country will never reach the privilege of printed menus that I and other US Americans thoughtlessly enjoy.