"...[A]uthor Luis Majul estimates that one in every 30 Argentines has undergone cosmetic surgery. And with prices plummeting, face-lifts and nose jobs are becoming ‘democratized,’ says plastic surgeon Maria Cristina Zeaiter. But the country’s elite sets the tone; everyone from [soccer star] Diego Maradona to President Carlos Menem has gone under the scalpel."
You’d think that given this apparent Argentine dedication to beauty, gyms in Buenos Aires would be swamped with dedicated porteños sweating it out on a variety of state-of-the-art machines. After all, going under the knife is only half the battle. This, however, is only half of the truth -- the gyms are relatively crowded, but the members and the equipment are a little more lackluster than I expected. My first experience with a Buenos Aires gym was a tri-weekly class of Fight-Do. For those who’ve never been lucky enough to experience the wonder and magic that is Fight-Do, I’ll sum it up for you: Tae-Bo on speed, with moves timed perfectly to a carefully composed soundtrack. After I got over the initial shock of this mindblowingly fast and choreographed workout, I started to notice that everybody in the class knew each other. The instructor, María Jose, would often leave the front of the class to stand beside a flailing, sweaty participant just to chat. When she found out my friend and I were American, she charitably started trying out her broken English during class: "Knee! Knee!" I don’t think she knew the word for ‘kick’.
After a few rousing weeks of Fight-Do, I decided to try the regular workout circuit. I believed this is where the real gym culture could be found, and find it I did. From my gym experience, I’m forced to believe that porteños don’t like to sweat as much as us Americans -- many, women especially, come to the gym decked out in full make-up and jewelry and don’t even bother to put up their hair. Many prefer walking to running on the treadmill and I see comparably few women lifting weights. They drink diet soft drinks while working out -- a practice quickly discredited by even the most nonchalant peruse through any fitness magazine. And though I have yet to actually see it, it wouldn’t quite shock me to see someone smoking while walking at a leisurely pace on the treadmill. Most gymgoers here don’t listen to music and instead chat with friends or trainers, called profesores here, while working out. This all means that like many other Argentine events, going to the gym is a social affair. While the average gym goer in the United States (myself included) tend to tune him or herself out from the world as thoroughly as possible -- picture the typical iPod-listening, magazine-reading, television- watching workout nut -- for many Argentines, working out is just another social event, so why not dress for the occasion? While it’s important to present the impression that one is working out, the number of calories burned or amount of muscle built is fairly irrelevant. So, should we look to Argentine gym culture to temper our collective American obsession with fitness? Probably not. Just because they don’t work out as obsessively doesn’t mean that Argentines are not just as appearance-obsessed as Americans. Putting aside the plastic surgery fetish for a moment, Argentina also has one of the highest rates of eating disorders in the world. According to a study by the Renfrew Center Foundation for Eating Disorders, eating disorder rates in Argentina are three times the amount found in the United States. Things were so bad that the government passed a law requiring clothing stores to carry and display larger sizes in order to emphasize the idea that bigger can actually be better, or at least acceptable. Maybe the reason for porteños’ meek gym efforts lies in their prioritization of appearance over actual physical fitness. Maybe they do embody that ultimate hypocrisy. Or, maybe we should give them more credit. Maybe they value social encounters over personal time in every situation. Maybe at heart they are purely social animals that don’t see a workout as a reason to dress down or stop chatting. Draw your own conclusions, but if you ever come to Buenos Aires, be prepared to make some friends at the gym. 
Leah Sipher-Mann is a senior political science major from Ann Arbor, Michigan.