Free Thursday Night Widows by Claudia Piñeiro Page B

They were undistinguished fish, a sort of bream, brownish-coloured. We put in orange perch, which reproduced and became the new masters of the stream. There are ducks and otters, too. Although recently the ducks and otters are down in numbers. Some say it’s because people are killing them. For food. But that’s very unlikely. Even if someone tried it – the maintenance staff, caddies, gardeners, anyone who dared – it would be impossible for them to smuggle their catch past our security guards. Once they caught a caddie throwing a dead duck over the perimeter fence to a woman on the other side. He claimed to have hit it accidentally, with a killer shot from the fourth tee. But nobody believed him. I mean, the woman on the other side had all but brought her casserole dish. The committees for Golf and for the Environment served him a joint indictment.
    The lakes are, in fact, the sole true remnant of the marsh that was once here. But nobody would know that; there can’t be a golf course anywhere in the world that doesn’t have a lake. We use a system of pumps to drain rainwater collected in the irrigation channels around our community into the lake and thus avoid flooding; the water is pumped in and then the river itself carries it out of the club. The Municipal Government complained once that we were exporting the problem of surplus water to the neighbourhood of Santa María de los Tigrecitos, but there were a couple of meetings between their council and ours and somehow the matter was resolved. It would be like blaming the city of Córdoba for the flooding in Santa Fe. Some sort of inexpensive
alteration had to be made. The last major investment was in chemical toilets, which became a requirement once the ladies took over the course. If a man’s caught short, he can urinate anywhere: behind a tree, in some bushes. Even on a golf course. Not so a woman.
    Our course is re-sown every year. You won’t find that in every club. Most of them only re-seed the tee of each hole. Pencross on the greens and Bermuda on the fairways. The re-seeding, together with the cost of the machines, the staff involved, the irrigation and draining systems, etc., mean that maintaining the golf course accounts for one of the most congested columns in our budget. The tennis players grumble about it. There’s some mutual goading between aficionados of the two sports. People complain that the club spends much more money on golf than tennis and that it all comes out of the same fees and the same pockets. But investment in the course does not benefit the golfers alone. Members of our community can stroll on the links, have a drink on the terrace at the ninth hole (with its enviable views), listen to music while watching the sun set over the fifteenth hole or even go on a photographic safari to take pictures of wild birds. The Environment Committee has provided a great outreach service by placing at each hole a wooden sign with photographs of the birds you can expect to see, showing their markings and characteristics. But, quite apart from the enjoyment that each one of us may take in it, there is an important economic benefit in having a course – as we all know. The value of our houses is directly related (whatever the percentage is, it must be significant) to their proximity to good links. The same house, in a neighbourhood without a course, would be worth much less.

    Years ago, playing golf was an exclusive activity. In other countries it still is. Not so in Argentina. It’s expensive, but the Convertibility Law has narrowed all manner of gaps and “expensive” no longer has to mean “exclusive”. In the golf bar there are wooden shields bearing the names of the winners of the club’s annual tournaments. And over the years, the engraved surnames have become progressively less grand. In 1975, one Menéndez Behety was the champion. In 1985, a McAllister. And in 1995 it was a García.