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Shrink TankThe enclave of Villa Freud is home to many of Buenos Aires’ 40,000 therapists. A visit keeps the ego – and id – in check.
Soon after I arrived in Buenos Aires five years ago, I discovered that going to therapy was an intrinsic part of the average week for porteños, its famously melancholic residents. Battered by political upheaval, a roller-coaster economy and enough social conflicts to spark a slew of neuroses, they routinely seek solace in psychotherapy. It’s rare to meet a local who has never gone through a few sessions with what are universally known as techistas – slang for “roofers,” or head doctors. Arrange to meet a friend, and the space-in-the-diary conversation inevitably begins with “I can’t make Thursday, I’ve got therapy.” Like their neurotic Manhattan-based counterparts, Argentina’s stand-up comedians regularly begin gags with the line “So I was talking to my therapist…” Although most clients are middle class, counselling cuts across class lines. Trade unions ensure that sessions form part of a regular employee-benefit package, and public hospitals extend a free service to those unable to pay. During the country’s 2001–2002 downturn, when many citizens resorted to barter to bypass the cash economy, I was astonished to meet a therapist offering 10 free sessions to anyone willing to paint his house. |
