It’s time to have a serious talk.
Lend me your ears people of the world, emerge from your Netflix binge of House of Cards, pull yourself away from Kim Kardashian-West’s nude selfie, Kanye’s latest Twitter rant, Beyonce’s glorious Instagram, because dangerous times are ahead in Estados Unidos.
Yes, I’m talking about the deeply alarming rise of the slawjacked walrus that goes by Donald Trump, whose soul, along with his hair and jawline have apparently gone missing and who may one day make it to the White House. But what to do? What to do?!
Well, Cape Breton in Canada has offered refuge to US residents who no longer want to live in their nation once it stops being the land of the free and home of the brave and the Statue of Liberty is sent to her watery grave faster than you can say “Bye Felicia.” But also, for all the people who will be kicked out once he ascends the iron throne. Yes, I know that it’s not a throne, we don’t have those. But does he know it? DOES HE??
What’s that you say? Canada? Is Canada really the only choice? You are making me choose between Donald Trump and Canada? Why don’t you just drop me off between Scylla and Charybdis.
That’s why we have… Argentina. Step right this way kiddos. As one who fled the USA not from a dangerous demagogue but on a white girl Eat, Pray, Love quest due to an ex-boyfriend… I’m totally qualified to be your spirit guide.
So here you have it. The Bubble’s Politically Incorrect Guide to Fleeing Donald Trump to Argentina.
HOW TO PREPARE
Step 1: Learn Spanish. You don’t need Spanish to survive in Argentina. But you need Spanish to thrive in Argentina. Argentines tend to be great with language and finding people that speak English isn’t hard to do but there’s no beating connecting with people in the language of the country you’re in. Caveat: learning Spanish in the United States may be illegal by the time Trump is elected, so make like Harry Potter and start storing those textbooks in the cupboard under the stairs.
Step 2: Book yo’ ticket. Fun fact: you don’t need a visa to enter Argentina. I have done it many times, I would know. (Dear Editor if I am kicked out due to this article you have to come and bail me out at Ezeiza) Now then where were we? Ah, yes. You need to pay a reciprocity fee. It’s 160 dollars. A small price to pay to escape seeing this face every single day, framed in your foyer, which will probably become the law, Soviet style, the day after he is sworn in. See point 4 for a caveat in this almost too good to true system.
Step 3: Research the free stuff. Healthcare here, if you have a DNI (aka your papers) is free! Even without your paperwork in order you can access emergency and preventive care without paying. It’s in the Constitution. Sure the free healthcare can be disorganized and take a long time, but even paying for things out of pocket as an uninsured immigrant is cheaper than most premiums in the States. So burn that latest insurance bill and buy your ticket already, the revolution was not televised and it already happened in Argentina. Other things that are free: your college education. Still haven’t bought that ticket? What is wrong with you? It’s true, as a citizen of Mercosur, university here is free. So you can burn your student loans also. Try not to start a fire with that enthusiasm, let’s not add arson to your problems.
Step 4: Know your rights. You only have to leave the country every 90 days. Off you go to Uruguay! Smile nicely at the man at customs! Back into the country you are. Yes, that’s right, in Argentina unlike America under Trump, immigrants are allowed. Sort of. It’s a grey area. We don’t talk about it. It’s the first and second rule of
fight club Argentina.
Leaving the country every 90 days to renew your tourist visa is growing increasingly frowned upon. But there are many legal pathways to laying some roots in the Argentine republic, they just require dealing with the moderately friendly and extremely bureaucratic immigration department. But at least there’s no wall here. Okay well there was that one time a wall was built on the Paraguayan border. We don’t talk about that either. Never mind. It’s still better here. Okay. Also there is not irrational hate for people from Mexico. Only thing more loved than a taco in Buenos Aires is a mural of Frida Kahlo and her #browsonfleek. The more the merrier. In summary Mexicans, Muslims and girls named Tiffany who just broke up with their boyfriends, welcome.
ONCE YOU’RE HERE…
Step 1: Make yourself at home. We have the best meat in the world. Just thinking about it makes me want to cry. That could be the meat sweats though, I’m not sure anymore. We have a beautiful sprawling, seemingly empty mosque. We have tinder. We have an expat hub. Sure, it’s run by an oberführer called Dave who will shout at you if you ask where to get a haircut (just kidding Dave’s a champ, but I’m not kidding) but take a look, it could be a lovely place to make friends. Just come an sit down at any bar and refuse to leave until 6 AM and accumulate asado invitations from people named Fede and Facu.
Step 2: Find your favorite coffee-shop. Hang out there all the time until the baristas are forced to be your friends. Drink coffee and eat all their bagels and become a regular and feel like you are part of the Friends cast. People take their time in Argentina, and lingering in a coffee-shop is just part of the beauty. You have lots of places to choose from to make your home, mine happens to be Lattente. They have puppies there and an owner who yells at you if you try to drink tea. It’s terrifying.
Step 3: Get a Hobby Already! Put down Netflix, watching Narcos does not count as improving your Spanish. You will end up with a Portuguese accent. Join a soccer league. Learn to call it fútbol. Your team will probably be very international because again, our president is not Donald Trump. They’ll teach you to drink mate and how to pronounce the name of your new novio Facu that you met at that asado and generally how to not walk down the street revealing your inner yanqui.
Step 4: Find your favorite boliche. Dance your little heart out. Go back there every weekend until the bouncer just looks at you like you need to sort out your priorities and waves you in. Stay until dawn.
Argentina’s president is not named Donald Trump. In fact, he is called Mauricio Macri. Sometimes he sticks his foot in his mouth and says machista things like: “Basically, all women like to be told compliments… Even though you’ll say something rude, like ‘What a cute ass you have’… it’s all good.'” But then his daughter yells at him and he takes it back. Unlike Donald Trump, who just hits on his daughter and makes us all very very uncomfortable. Argentina! Not hitting on their own children since 1810.
The Final Step: Find your favorite breathtaking view. Tell all your friends at home that this is the most beautiful place in the world, but you can’t describe with words the feeling in your heart when you walk out of the boliche on the Costanera at 6 AM and see the sun rise out of the sea. Make them think that you’ve totally lost it with your jabber about sunrises, no matter, you kind of have to be here to understand.
So come on down, experience the the real magic of Argentina, which is that our President (say what you will) isn’t an omen of the coming apocalypse. I know, the jealousy hurts so good.
So there you have it. Your guide to GTFO of the States and coming to the land of Malbec and honey. But honestly, who cares what we think. In the words of Trump himself: “You know, it really doesn’t matter what the media write as long as you’ve got a young and beautiful piece of ass.”