“You look prettier today”: The Beauty of Brutal Honesty

There is a common expression in English that is, ‘walking on eggshells.’  The image of a person gingerly treading over these delicate casings accurately conveys the idiom’s meaning: to be very inoffensive; to take great care to avoid making someone angry or upset. During my stay in Argentina, I have become increasingly aware that the United States, or at least the west coast, is carpeted in eggshells, and people are tiptoeing around like crazy.

When I say that people walk on eggshells in the US, I’m not just referring to political correctness. It’s the little things too. More times than I can count, I have come home from a meal in the United States, only to look in the mirror and discover a very large, very green piece of salad lurking between my front teeth. ‘Why had no one told me my teeth were hidden beneath a small plant?’, I often wondered.

In Argentina, this ‘carpet of eggshells’ appears to have been disposed of and/or pulverized. I came to this conclusion shortly after my arrival to Argentina. Only an hour after meeting a bahiense, he pointed toward my face, and oh so casually informed me, ‘Che, you have a booger on your nose.’ As if he were commenting on the weather, and not a very unattractive piece of dried snot arising from the nasal cavity. Horrified, I considered how to discretely remove the booger from my face. (I realized quickly that this is, in fact, impossible).

Surely the situation couldn’t get any more embarrassing. And just then, it did. As if in slow motion, I saw a hand moving toward my face. Toward the booger. I realized that he was actually attempting to aid me in the booger-removal process. Very alarmed, I dodged him and fled to the bathroom. I was aware that Argentina is a more collectivist society, but I had to draw the line somewhere.

After this encounter, I wondered if the booger-incident was an anomaly, or rather, if it was reflective of some sort of significant cultural difference. My question was quickly and decisively answered one evening, when I joined my friend Giulia and her Argentine family friend, Elvira, for dinner. I’d only recently met Elvira, an elderly porteña woman, but she welcomed me into her home, and as you can probably guess, spoke very openly with me. As we chatted over our pasta dinner, Elvira stated nonchalantly, ‘Giulia speaks better Spanish you.’ After choking on my noodle, I attempted to pull myself together, and smiled. She was right. And yet, I wasn’t used to this sort of brutal honestly. I was quickly realizing that I’d need to develop a thicker skin if I was going to survive in Argentina.

It didn’t stop there. One day, I met up with a group of Argentines in Buenos Aires. We had already hung out a couple of times during the afternoon, drinking mate and chilling out in the park. This time, however, we were going out to dinner. Naturally, I dressed up a little, did my makeup, perhaps put a little more effort into my appearance. Nevertheless, I was completely taken aback when they greeted me, and said, “Che, Ali, you look prettier today.” All I can say is that if I had been eating a noodle in this moment, I most certainly would have choked on it.

This directness is very much a part of interpersonal interaction in Argentina. Indeed, los argentinos are always keeping me in check, and they will not hesitate to tell me: “Qué onda? You look tired,” or, “Ali, your hair looks strange today," or even, "Che, I think you have a pimple on your face."

What I have learned, aside from the fact that I perhaps need to check the mirror more frequently, is that to walk on eggshells is to break them. They will inevitably crack. That is, I while I’m not saying I love to hear I have dried snot on my face, it’s almost always less embarrassing to be told this than to find out yourself, five hours later. What then, I have begun to realize, is the point of tiptoeing around?

Moreover, I appreciate the level of sincerity. Argentines are generally very direct and open, so that when they say something good, you know they really mean it. The truth is terrifying, but it is surprisingly refreshing. I have found that with the possibility of offending someone also comes the potential for something very sincere and genuine, and that this perhaps is a risk worth taking. They may crack some eggs, but Argentines keep it real.