I can't remember if I posted this previously, but the story's a bit apropos related to your feelings, Nico.
It must ahve been something like 6 months now, maybe even a year (time flies so freaking fast!). I was in my office in my apartment, working. I noticed that there was a flashing blue light down in the street below. I'm on the second floor, with no balcony on the first, so I get to see everything that happens below me.
I went out on my balconey to see what was up and down on the street were two PFA cars parked along the curb and about 6 cops standing around. The next thing I noticed were two pistols and three knives sitting on the trunk of the car most directly below me and a couple of the cops reviewing the weapons and making notes, filling out forms.
Then I looked farther below me, up against the building itself, and noticed nine kids with their backs up against the glass of our building's entry, all handcuffed with their hands behind them, legs out in front, seated on the sidewalk. They were all dressed nicely - expensive sweat pants or slacks, nice shirts, Nike tennis shoes, etc. Each of them had a cellphone on the sidewalk next to them. I saw Blackberries and touchscreen Nokias, a couple of different really nice-looking phones.
The cellphones on the sidewalk would each ring on occasion. The cops picked them up and answered them when it happened.
They must have been down there for about two hours or so. I eventually got tired of watching (although I did take some pictures, just for grins) and went back to work.
Later, after I'd realized they were gone, I chanced to need to go out for something. I stopped by my portero's desk and asked him what had happened.
He explained to me that the police had caught a theft ring, apparently in the act of robbing someone. They don't usually travel in such big packs he said, but as he understood it was a robbery of convenience and they had the bad luck to be all together and get caught.
I asked them why they sat there for so long, and what was going to happen to them.
He chuckled. He told me something like (working from memory), "this is Argentina. They can't prosecute minors for these crimes. They were sitting here so long because they were waiting for their parents to come get them!"
Of course, my first thought is, how convenient. How much you want to bet those parents are in on their kids plans? How easy would it be to send their kids out to steal and plunder, knowing the law won't touch them, and all they have to do if their kids get caught is come by and pick them up?
As an aside, my portero is Argentine born, of German ancestry, fairly recent. His father came over at the end of World War II and settled in Entre Rios. For all I know, his father was a Nazi on the run from justice. My portero himself has a pronounced German accent. He complains about his fellow Argentinos more than anyone I've ever known, even more than my Australian antiques dealer friend who lived here for almost 30 years before leaving late last year to return to Australia.
