I'm writing this article from Buenos Aires, Argentina. It's always a relief to escape the sweltering summer heat in Florida. So, I walk through the streets of my city, and while everyone else complains about the cold, bundles up in scarves that cover their eyes, and wears thermal jackets, I go out to enjoy myself.

​

I don't know if you, my readers, feel the same way when you visit your home countries, but I don't like feeling like a tourist in Buenos Aires. I love it when people ask me for directions. And I give them without hesitation. Why? Because I'm more from here than anywhere else in the world. Because in some ways, I feel like I never left Buenos Aires. I know the streets better than most, the neighborhoods, the theaters. I'm missing some current information, I must admit. I pass by a café where I always used to have a drink with my grandmothers, and it's closed. I get a little lost when I want to get downtown, but getting lost in the streets isn't a problem when I don't have a schedule to get anywhere. I enjoy waiting for the bus, or the subway, or the train. I listen to people's conversations, read the graffiti on the walls, and admire the creativity of those urban poets. And it's there, in the murals, in the shop windows, where you can see the World Cup fever that this city has the most.

​

If there's one thing that unites all Argentinians in a single roar, it's the World Cup and the national team, along with the unparalleled genius of Leo Messi. The entire city is plastered with images of the team, Argentinian flags, slogans, and decorations cheering them on. There isn't a bar, supermarket, café, or plaza where photos of the players aren't displayed. There are promises of trips to the United States to see the matches, and lotteries for those who like to predict the results.

 

They've even set up a giant screen in Seeber Park and San Martín Square so people can watch the games outdoors. Of course, many matches are at night and it's freezing here, but knowing the national team's fans, I think those areas will be packed.

​

Being here during the World Cup has brought back memories of other World Cups, other times when we'd get together with friends to cheer on the national team and then go out into the streets to celebrate victories. We cheered for Diego instead of Leo, but with the same passion, with the same hoarse, passionate shouts we make today, the same shouts I hear young and old alike cheering for the national team and, with it, for all of Argentina, as if the very soul of this poor country were at stake in a single match, a country filled with the hope of being champions again, of adding another star to the three we already have, and thus masking, even if just a little, the frustration, the pain, the poverty of millions of Argentinians who still await a better future.

 

Mercedes Soledad Moresco, Writer

IG @mermoresco