Three Gun Shots Followed by Clanging Pots and Pans

My second night in Buenos Aires, I enter my hugely overpriced weekly rental for expat suckers and within minutes, three gun shots tear through the air. They seem to derive from the street behind me, confirmed by the many onlookers who've emerged onto their patios in the apartment building across the way. There are no cries of horror, just silent, dedicated stares until a trio of ambulances arrive. As the sirens start to fade, another round of noise takes their place--a steady banging of metal on metal, coordinated hand-clapping and the chanting in unison of "Se-gu-ri-dad." Outside, neighbors are clanging the iron railings of their nineteenth-century patios with big metal spoons. A crowd of people gather in the middle of the street, making a concerted noise that fills the night by banging pots and pans across from a parking garage where apparently the shooting took place as a motorullo, a thief traveling by motorcyle, fired at someone in the garage who put up a fuss about being robbed. "My husband was handicapped in one of these," says one of the many middle-aged people banging an iron pan with a long spoon that seems designed for this very purpose. "This looks like a nice neighborhood but it's becoming more dangerous. We think the police are in on it. Corruptos. We don't want to have to do this but if we don't insist, they won't do anything," she says before rushing into the street in front of an oncoming police van. On her knees: "I'm begging you. Protect us!"