Through a Kevin Bacon-esque string of people, we were put in touch with BA Planet (http://www.baplanet.com/english/), which in actuality is just two cute guys with laptops and a leggy, coffee-making secretary. But through their patience, connections, and good humor, we found the perfect apartment. A two tiered loft in the pristine Recoleta; large windows, a sound system, balcony, maid-service, bamboo candles, etc.
Renting it was another story…
Problem A: It was entirely out of our (as in my) budget.
Solution A: The landlady and brokers significantly lowered their fees, and subsequently we raised our standards. Oh the compromises of life.
Problem B: The landlady wanted all of the rent, in cash, before any further negotiation could take place. Is this the aroma of a scam?
Solution B: We insisted that we would only wire her a portion of the money, if and when she signed our contract.
Problem C: She had no bank account to wire the money to. How could this be, in today’s day and age? It seemed unfathomable, and visions of a plump Argentine lady tearing through the streets with a bundle of US dollars infiltrated my mind.
Our cute BA Planeteers clarified that not having a bank account is quite common here. After the economy crash five years ago, many porteños grew to distrust banks. “People save under the mattress. It’s more probable that the banks rob you than burglars.” Okay. Then they explained that because of a law created by Perón in the 1940s, landlords have an extremely difficult time evicting tenants who fail to meet rent every month. This is just wonderful for the lower echelon, but Jacey and I had no way of showing Susanna that we’re responsible foreigners who won’t put her in that situation.
At the end of the day, we learned a very important lesson. You cannot make a deal in a foreign country unless you stray from your own standards.
We got the apartment, and now we can celebrate and use our bidet!
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