Jose has us introduce ourselves and gives us each a welcome kiss on the cheek. The "externed" include seven visiting psychiatrists from France, a documentary filmmaker from Chile, a psychology student from Mexico City, five argentine psychology students, some friends of the interned, a German writing his dissertation, and a few family members Skyped in from other cities.

For the next six hours, we experience "The Crazy Lady." Olivera writes the schedule on the green blackboard, and then disappears into the background. The patients, known as Los Colifatos, run the show. Later, he will edit and cut vignettes to be interspersed on other national radio programs throughout the week.

Maria begins with "Thoughts from Maria." She has shoulder length white hair and sagging cheeks that hang when she smiles, which she does often. I ask later if Maria is her real name. It is. No one seems to worry about confidentiality. A former patient, she still walks the four blocks from her apartment to Radio Colifata every Saturday. She reads from a notebook filled with blue scrawl, sharing her poems and her "thoughts of the week."

Soon after she starts, someone walks across the green and grabs the microphone away. "Green cows run wild," he says, "milk and milk and milk spilling. Green organs spill. Intestines spill." An interned leans over and whispers to me, "That's Dr. Vazquez. He is the only one allowed to interrupt the program. He worked as a surgeon here. His wife, a nurse, lives here too." Doctor Vasquez leaves and his wife, who wears her nurse's uniform, runs after him. Maria returns to her poem.

Later in the week, as I am cooking milanesas in our San Telmo apartment, I hear Doctor Vasquez's Radio Colifata segment on the Argentine radio news hour. With the magic of editing, music intersperses with the repetition of his voice and it turns into a delightful radio piece.

Back in the courtyard we are still live and unfiltered. Ernesto begins his segment by singing tango. He has high cheekbones and closes his eyes when he sings. Later, he draws me a cartoon of Donald Duck on a piece of paper and says, "Put it in your wallet to remember me."

Hugo quickly becomes my favorite. He slaps his legs to make the noise of a horse's hooves galloping and says, "I'm here riding my trusty horse and I will give you the news of the day." Everything about him echoes Don Quixote. He talks about tsunamis and cooks an imaginary Hawaiian luau for everyone.

Later, I get his story. About 22 years ago Hugo's mother died and he had a "nervous breakdown." Worried that people might hurt him, he stopped working as a tailor, stopped communicating with his wife, and slipped away. A suicide attempt and a call to the police by his wife landed him in El Borda. "I hated this place," he says. "The cold rooms, the rain-stained ceilings, the lack of adequate linens." Then he found Radio Colifata. Even though he now lives on the outside, for the last 22 years he has not missed a single Saturday. He also now hosts a community radio program entitled "The Cow."