The 3 P's of Buenos Aires: Renting My First Apartment

by Caitlin M. Kelly | 2008

This blog post is brought to you by the letter 'P'

The three P's of Argentina are: persuasion, persistence and patience. My epiphany came while searching, pleading and eventually signing on my new apartment.

First Persuasion. I don't have a garantia. A garantia is when a family member puts up their property as assurance rent will get paid. Typically you need a garantia to rent in Argentina, which makes it very difficult if you're a foreigner looking to have a more permanent, or simply your own, place to crash. Because of this for the first year, I lived in three different places.

The first place or as I remember it "The Scary Bathroom and Getting Wet at Breakfast" place, was in the barrio Colegiales, a bit too far from the city center. I probably could have dealt with that, but the green and black mold growing in the combination shower, sink and toilet room freaked me out and because the typical architecture of a propiadad horizontal, or PH, it didn't have a roof over what was the living room area. So when it rained, I would get wet sitting at the kitchen table.

The second place was much nicer with great red walls, a decent tub and shower and good roommates. The two-room apartment, upstairs from the owner in the barrio San Telmo, were rented out separately, so unfortunately my roommates would change and it just takes too long to get in sync with someone elses bathroom needs. I didn't want to do that every two months or so.

The third place was located in Villa Crespo, or as the adfolks are spinning it these days Palermo "Queens". Again, good roommate, non moldy bathroom, good location. Perhaps I would have stayed here, but I started to get itchy for my own space, to decorate it as I wished and besides, the couch was hard as rock. You'd go to plop yourself down and it would be like smacking your rear end down on concrete.

So the persuasion began: how to convince someone that I, a perfectly upstanding, very nice, mostly organized photographer from the USA, would pay rent. The tactic is not to say you're going to pay rent, but to offer the whole years worth of rent up front. It is as if you're one-upping the situation. "Yeah I'm gonna pay. And just to prove it to you, here take the WHOLE thing right now!" My mutual funds were languishing anyway, so I decided I could better invest in my sanity here in Argentina and secure my own 33 square meters.

Even paying for a year does not guarantee agents will help. Having a friend, who has a friend, who works in a inmobilaria (rental/sales agency) is what gets agents to listen. Having the money means they'll actually entertain the idea.

Second Persistence. Now the agents are listening, showing me places, and not just ignoring my phone calls made in Spanish with a bad U.S. accent. Quickly I found a wonderful place: new building, only four floors high, with garden in the back, parilla, tub, enough space for me and a cat and even with a balcony. I looked at the agent and trying not to sound too excited, I said "yes, this place might work," all while wanting to jump up and down. But it wasn't to be that easy because the agent looks back and says, "you have a garantia right?" Um, no.

Here begins the persistence. I ask if the agent can talk to the owner. She thinks she can do that. I give her a day. I call back to ask. I get forwarded to the architect of the building who is also owner of the inmobilaria. She says she will talk with the owner. I give her two days. I call back. They are still thinking about it. Will I pay for the year up front? Yes. One year contract okay? Yes. She says she'll ask again. I give her several more days. I call back. The owner gave a tentative yes, (woo-hoo), but has to check with her husband. Okay. I wait a few more days. I call back. YES, for one year contract and I pay upfront. Okay, no problem. I go in and put down my deposit. We have 15 days to finalize the deal. She is going to email the contract. One week goes by. I call back. Right, the contract. Well, how about a two year contract. Huh? Um, okay, why not. What's the increase. 20% up rent for next year (here's hoping the dollar stays strong). Set Thursday morning to sign the contract and pay. Wednesday night about 6pm no contract. I call back. Contract emailed.

I arrived Thursday at 11am with a years worth of rent in a brown, nondescript envelop in my purse and with my recently damaged passport. It felt like a deal out of a B-movie. Rent was folded up, 1,000 pesos at a time and I counted out the rent as both the owner and architect watched. We agreeded it was all present. I payed the commision, signed my name on each side of the contract and left with a set of keys to my first apartment in Buenos Aires.

And finally Patience. Patience is what I don't have some days. Okay, many days. I blame it on some odd Irish heritage. But it is a trait that can be learned. And I am going, without fail, to learn it in Argentina. The country moves at its own pace. Not necessarily a slow pace, but a personal pace. Every clerk at the kiosko, supermarket, mozo at restaurants, cafes, they all have their own pace. Patience means accepting that in Argentina things don't get done at your pace, but theirs. I chafe with this and can be found occasionally standing on the street with my hands out, palms up, thumbs to ring fingers, arms about waist level... chanting ohm.

What's next? I arrive back from vacation in the states and will have to change the name on the gas and electric bill and find a fridge and maybe a mattress, so I don't have to sleep on the floor, and a shower curtain definitely, and maybe a pot or pan to cook in and then I'd need utensils, and light fixtures, right light fixtures. There are none in the apartment right now, so after a 25 hour trip from Boulder, Colorado to Buenos Aires, through NYC, with a cat, I will need to buy light fixtures.

ohm...

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