If Puerto Madero isn't really Buenos Aires (see Perfil article where PM residents say they pay high taxes so they don't want to see homeless people in their neighborhood), then all of Capital isn't really Argentina. That is to say, what's outside of the city of Buenos Aires actually feels like South America.
On my way to work from the campo (my pet name for San Andres) I see the things I expected to see in South America: a morning can fire at the bus stop, kids being brought school on the handlebars of their parents' bicycles, sidewalk grills, the Detroit-esque Fargo bread factory, dozens of stray dogs roaming the streets, people collecting recyclables from the trash using horse-drawn homemade carriages and a shrine dedicated to Gauchito Gil (the Argie gaucho Saint, of course!).
Despite the prevalence of private security and the sounds of weekend street racing and passing trains, there are still remnants of San Andres' golden age including neighborhood bakeries (like La Nueva Moderna, seen in the photo below), big houses and vintage retro signs.