'Are there any croissants?' a large, middle-aged woman with blonde hair and heavy make-up asks the waiter behind the breakfast counter of the once-exclusive Hotel Bauen in downtown Buenos Aires.
'Well, if there aren't any it's because people don't appreciate them,' the waiter replies, pointing to the messy tables and chairs in the dining room. 'They throw them around, they tear them.'
'Well,' says the woman glancing at her watch, seemingly uninterested, 'I need three croissants.'
'Yes. I have ordered more and they'll arrive soon,' the waiter says. A few moments later he adds: 'I hope.'
Welcome to Hotel Bauen, a hotel that was 'recuperated' from its owners by sacked employees who now run the place under a workers' co-operative.
Once a symbol of the wealth being bandied about during the excess of the 1980s and 1990s, the tired old hotel of today is far removed from anything that spells luxury. But what it has lost in shine, it has more than gained in charm as people from all walks of life — from the remotest parts of the country, of all colors, origins, sizes and economic status — come and go.
In front of its worn façade you are less likely to see a limousine than a run-down bus pelting out black smoke. Guests are more likely to be poor people from rural areas than to be clad in expensive furs. Some will have left their small village for the first time. They are clearly overawed by the big smoke. Others are guests of the hotel while receiving medical treatment at a Buenos Aires hospital.
The story of the hotel begins in the middle of the last military dictatorship (1976–1983) when entrepreneur Marcelo Iurcovich obtained government funding to build the 20-storey hotel in time for the 1978 FIFA World Cup. Apparently, none of the funding — which included US$5million from Argentina's national development bank — was ever paid back. After later obscure business deals the hotel was sold and declared bankrupt on 28 December 2001.
The timing of the closure could not have been worse for the 60 workers who were the remnants of a once 200-strong workforce. They lost their jobs just as the Argentinian economy collapsed, unemployment reached unprecedented levels, Argentina was embroiled in food riots, general strikes and road blockades, banks closed, and people lost their life savings.
After being unemployed for three years, Marcelo Duarte, a former