October 28, 2025 . Crisis Averted . New Crisis Emerges .

All photos courtesy of M. Pyatok… read below to find out why.

What a day. We set out after breakfast —first to the bank to get some cash (Argentina doesn’t accept credit cards for lots of things, most notably taxis). Then we went back to the hotel to get warmer clothes as the temperature really dropped last night and today–in the 50s. And then we finally headed out. We wanted to go to a very “marginal” neighborhood that is called Padre Mugica (named for a slain priest who dedicated his life to helping those who live in the slums). We can actually see this slum from our hotel window—about a mile away.. we see the tops of the building. Anyway, we went on our way, walking (we had figured out that it was on the other side of the railway station and we could probably walk in less than an hour). First we made some dumb mistake in reading the map and wound up going about five long blocks in the wrong direction. We caught the mistake and reversed our course. Then after walking about 3 miles, I decided I needed to use the bathroom, so I ducked into a little restaurant that was packed and found my way to the ladies room. After about 5 minutes, I thought my purse felt very light so I looked inside and couldn’t find my wallet. Went back to the restaurant but it wasn’t in the bathroom and no one had turned it in. I was freaked. Passport, credit cards, cash, and god knows what else is in that wallet. We went back along the same route all the way to the hotel… and then there was the wallet —in the hotel room. I had taken it out of my purse to take out some unnecessary credit cards and whatever, and I guess I never put it into my purse. Great. Now we could start the day, albeit about 2 hours late. Crisis averted.

In the interest of time, we hopped into a taxi to take us to where we had been when we turned around–at the railway station. It’s actually a grand old station. As we were photographing we saw several young people hop over or crawl under the turnstiles so as not to pay the fare. Made me think about the bus riders union in LA which managed a campaign called “No Seat, No Fare” and of the many turnstile jumpers there are in NYC.

Anyway, just past the railroad station is this neighborhood. Basically it’s clearly a very marginal, low- to no-income area of mostly indigenous people who are clearly living on the edge. It was originally founded by immigrants as a squatter settlement nearly 100 years ago and has probably been transformed and influenced by successive generations of migrants and low income people and families. It’s a squatter settlement that is mostly home-made and grown over the years into 3-5 story self-built concrete structures–constantly under construction. Most have outdoor spiral stairs to connect the different levels. Ground floors are all “businesses” and street vendors—lots of barber shops. The houses are painted in bright colors and the electrical equipment that ties the buildings to the city grid is a web of gerry-rigged connections, much like we saw in Kathmandu and India. I should note that we have visited and photographed in many of these kinds of neighborhoods in South Africa, Chile, Colombia, Mexico, Honduras, Thailand, Guatemala, Kenya, Rwanda, and more—so this wasn’t new to us. That said, things did seem a bit more tense here. Many young men, fewer families (or at least the families weren’t outside), and a fair share of drunk men ambling about.

The “neighborhood” or “colonia,” formerly called Colonia 31, is essentially a linear neighborhood wedged between a sea of railroad tracks that converge at the railway station .. and on the other side are the port facilities stacked with thousands of shipping containers. While the numbers of people who live in Mugica are not really known, estimates say there are 40,000 inhabitants. Most are indigenous from Paraguay, Peru, and Bolivia.

As we walked through the area, several people stopped us to say that it was “muy pelligroso” (very dangerous). But we heard that in every other city where we visited the slums. Still we tried to be extra cautious. I had my purse in the cross-body position and kept my phone in my pocket with my hand in my pocket as often as possible—except while photographing. And I’ve been photographing all of my life, so I’m pretty aware of the surroundings… and the iphone is a lot less of a presence than when I carried multiple 35mm cameras and lenses.

We strolled for about 90 minutes and were about to leave the area when I decided to take “just one more shot.” Mike was to my left… and all of a sudden a young guy, maybe 20 years old, ran from behind and grabbed the phone/camera out of my hand and was running at top speed. Mike screamed “Stop that guy!” although I don’t think anyone spoke English… but everyone knew what happened and a big crowd gathered both behind me and also at the other end of the street. One woman found two policemen and they began to run after the guy, but it was hopeless. Frankly, I was glad it was the phone and not my purse and also didn’t knock me over as he grabbed and ran.

I hope he likes reading the NY Times and some of my books on Kindle and enjoys my music selections!

Now the police were involved. Turns out they have a little substation (a trailer of sorts, about 8’x8′) right in the area where the “incident” happened. They ushered us into this little makeshift set up, where the cops have a cat they take care of. One female and two male cops–all fairly young. Not sure what they do all day, but now they had a project—me! They didn’t speak any English and at this point I think I could barely say anything in Spanish. They kept using Google translate, which worked but also got things a bit confused. They kept taking notes. Kept asking if any jewelry was stolen? any clothes stolen? was I hurt… All the answers were “no”… He only took the phone. “Él solo tomó mi teléfono.” They looked at my passport three separate times and Mike’s too. We kept asking what more they wanted or needed, as we were ready to head back to the hotel. The “incident” happened at 4:01 pm. At 5:15, we all got in the police car (unmarked) and headed to a bigger station. They were determined to file this report. They kept telling me it would help with my insurance claim. And they kept calling different police officials. Initially, I thought maybe they were trainees.

We got out at the big police station and went inside but the guy at the reception desk told these two cops we were with that we needed to go to a different station where we would meet with the “tourist police.” Mike says there wasn’t anyone at the headquarters because it was now after 5:00! So off we all went to this other police station located in a nice neighborhood. It was, I think, a local station. We waited in the lobby area for about an hour or more and finally the guy who is the tourism cop showed up. Actually he’s more of a translator or interpreter. He was extremely nice, although occasionally his English was very funny. Like when he asked me if there were any waitresses? I said “like in a restaurant nearby?” and then he checked Google translator and he wanted to say “witnesses.” But when he asked where this all happened and we said we were in Mugica, he nearly fainted.. and just shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Why?” So we explained (using our academic cred as the easiest rationale) that we were very interested in the living conditions of low income people around the world, including in the US. Again he shook his head.

OK… three hours after the incident, we finally left and thanked the police for their hard work. It was clear the phone was long gone. Probably sold for about $10 to someone who might know how to wipe it clean and who will sell it for $100. Tomorrow morning I will head the the Apple Store in Buenos Aires to get a new phone and also to see if they can connect me to email and other digital needs. Not sure this part can happen here in Buenos Aires. We shall see.

Had dinner at Republica del Fuego.. It was fine.. Not great. That’s it for me.