As trying to re-cap the last month feels too intimidating, I’m going to start with some snippits from this week. 

I decided to shoot my documentary about trash.  I don’t really how I’m going to tackle the issue, but the topic seems so complex that it calls for a something free from delusions of comprehension.  Dissection is useful sometimes, but unattractive when performed by a foreigner (even worse, a yankee). 

One of the most interesting facets of the issue is that an entire segment of the population depends on trash for income.  Titled “clasificadores,” they clip-clop through every nook and cranny of the city in horse drawn carriages or jerry-rigged bicycles toting along giant sacks of plastic, paper, and cardboard.  Late one night I was startled by a rustling in one of the little green dumpsters that sit on the curb.  In the states, the culprit would be ole’ Ricky (you know, the racoon?), but it Uruguay it’s a person in there, using a headlamp to find not food but sellable raw materials. 

Many look down on the clasificadores not only for their low social position, but also because they often leave the undesirable chaff strewn about the street, giving Montevideo its characteristic “urban charm.”  I could be wrong, but I don’t think there’s a system like it anywhere else in the world.  Shiny BMW’s zoom around horse-drawn carriages in Carrasco, a suburban escape for Montevideo’s upper class. 

I have yet to iron out my focus, but you get the idea. 

On Tuesday I went to el final de la Copa Uruguaya—Peñarol vs. Nacional, traditionally the two most dominant clubs in the country.  My host family is hincha de Nacional.  It’s something you’re born into as both clubs have been around for over 100 years.  So, we have the two best teams playing for the whole shebang, la Copa. 

5 nouns to describe the game—hooligans, flares, torta (frita, it doesn’t count as one of the nouns, just a descriptor), signage (I love that word), and anthems. 

I’ll explain.  The hooligans (or hinchas) sit in the middle of each section and generally “act a foo’,” jumping, singing a plethora of anthems, lighting flares after goals—shenanigans.  There are signs everywhere.  They hang from fences, stretch across gaps in the stadium, wave in the hands of passionate fans, just in case the jerseys/scarves/songs weren’t enough to convince the world.  They declare neighborhoods, cities, entire regions of Uruguay the domain of their team.  (Nacional is “Bolso” and Peñarol is “Mancha”)  Apparently, “Maldonado=100% Bolso.”  Think they took a survey?

I feel like Montevideo is my city.