South American Wonders

Back to Reality

2006-04-26T18:09:00.000-03:00

My Cinderella time in South America has come to a close. I've returned to the U.S. and am now back in Seattle and back to reality. You can check out my adventures in the Pacific Northwest here, though I can't promise you larvae infested dogs and ancient civilizations. This area will bring about stories and adventures of their own kind.

The Sacred Valley

2006-03-19T20:19:00.000-03:00

After such a crazy ordeal getting to Cuzco, once we finally arrived, it was like heaven on earth. The city has a charm and a culture that I hadn´t expected. Cobblestone streets, mountains all around, Quechua families wandering around in their colorful clothes and old buildings. Our hostel was one of the nicest hostels I had stayed at ever at and had views to die for.

After a good night sleep, we decided to take the local bus and head towards the Pisac market to do some shopping and to see another town. I wound up giving up my seat next to Ronald to an elderly Quechua lady who then moved over and gave me room to sit on the arm of the seat. It was totally not comfortable so I decided to brave standing as the crazy driver whipped around corners on switchbacks up mountains at speeds that would make even the adreneline junkies fear for their lives. After we arrived, we were pleasantly surprised that there really weren´t too many tourists, as Lonely Planet had forewarned, and proceeded to barter our way through the market. By the end we were getting pretty good except for the fact that a guy talked Ronald in to buying 2 statues that he hadn´t even picked out for himself. I think he had ¨Gringo Sucker¨stamped on his forehead in that guys eyes.

Visits to Urubamba and Ollaytatambo followed all leading up to our trek on part of the Incan Trail and Machu Pichu.

Lima Airport = Time Suckage

2006-03-14T17:26:00.000-03:00

As most of you know, I´ve just spent an amazing time with Ronald in Peru, no thanks to the lovely Lima airport.

I arrived in Lima a day ahead of Ronald at midnight after a delayed flight and the longest time spent by any one person trying to get through customs. The illogical Peruvians only had 6 customs officials checking passports and had 4 full flights arriving around the same time. This is yet another example of the nonexistent logic that plagues South America. It didn´t help that I had the slowest stamper ever leading my line. After 2 hours of watching hordes of people arrive after me and leave before me in other lines, I finally made it out of there to collect my bag at 2:30am. Note: My stamper averaged 4 minutes per person where as ¨Speedy Man in line 8¨averaged only 1.5 minutes per person. Multiply that times the 35 people that were ahead of me and you can begin to feel my frustration.

After a 3 hour ordeal, it was then 3am and I was desperately clinging to the notion that my hostel airport pick-up would still be waiting for me two and a half hours later. I had read that the street cabs in Lima can get pretty sketchy and that you´ll be pounced on for help the second you walk out of baggage claim. And I soon found out that was an accurate description. ¨Taxi?¨¨Informacion?¨and ¨Chica¨were all I heard as I stared out in to the crowds hoping to see my name on a board as I had planned with the hostel. I saw my name and knew that all was well. Mariano, my lovely driver, had thought I ditched him and had other passengers in the taxi as well so we all took off together to drop the other guys off first at the bus station. There I sat shotgun with a Columbian and an Ecuadorian in the back seat as Mariano whipped through the streets. Driving in a taxi in Lima at any time is a bigger rush than most amusement parks. I´m not sure what driving regulations are applied in this country but it makes for some good fun.

Ronald arrived the next day at midnight and managed to get through customs with less pain that I had the previous day. I was sleeping when he arrived at the hostel and felt as if it were a dream when he walked in the room and woke me up. Man, was it good to see him.

There was no time to sleep because we had to fly out of Lima the next morning at 6am to get to Cuzco. We arrived in the airport a little groggy but excited to be about to embark on our Incan adventure and catch-up with each other again.

We boarded the plane and all seemed well. We both fell asleep before take-off only to awaken an hour later still on the runway in Lima. We were then asked to unboard the plane and proceed back to the terminal. Apparently the weather was really bad in Cuzco and all flights were on hold.

We sat for hours, still catching up and were listening to more and more flights to Cuzco get delayed and even cancelled. All flights wound up getting cancelled to Cuzco that day which meant that we wouldn´t be able to start our Incan Trail hike with the tour.

We thought through our options in a sleep deprived state to make it in to Cuzco by 5 am the following morning:

1.) Take a bus...that wouldn´t work because it´s 27 hours to Cuzco and in the rainy season you have to tack on a couple extra hours.
2.) Pay a crazy cabbie $200 bucks to get us to Cuzco by 5 the next day...Not the best option because we already hadn´t slept the night before and didn´t want to start the hike sleep deprived even more.
3.) Pay off someone on one of the later flights to take their place...Couldn´t work because we only tickets on TACA airline and the only remaining flights were from LAN Peru.

Finally we resolved ourselves to the fact that we´d have to scramble to find a way on to another tour (which you must book weeks in advance) in the timeframe that fit in to Ronald´s itinerary.

We wound up getting on to another tour but had to change our flights to Cuzco, back from Cuzco and out of Lima. All the while we managed to keep laughing at the situation and tried to keep telling ourselves that this chaos was happening for a reason.

Not exactly how I envisioned our first 24 hours together for the first time in months but definitely memorable moments were created from the Lima airport. At the very least, I got to be with Ronald for an extra couple days because of this. Not a bad deal.

2006-03-01T15:51:00.000-03:00

`Tango´ El Caminito in the La Boca barrio

2006-03-01T15:47:00.000-03:00

`Big Ice´ Perito Moreno Glaciar

2006-03-01T15:43:00.000-03:00

`Maria Elsa´

2006-03-01T15:36:00.000-03:00

Early Morning Meditation at Laguna Torre in the Fitz Roy range

2006-03-01T15:18:00.000-03:00

`Sweet Dreams` Cheryl taking a well deserved catnap in Torres del Paine after a rugged hike up.

2006-03-01T15:16:00.000-03:00

´Surging Water´Another one of the falls at Iguazu.

2006-03-01T15:09:00.000-03:00

´Garganta del Diablo´ The power behind the falls is utterly amazing during the day and at night.

Worst Travel Nightmare Come True

2006-02-27T15:35:00.000-03:00

Every traveller envisions being stranded with little or no money alone from time to time. I have been very lucky in my travels and have yet to experience anything that desperate...until I was leaving Iguazu for Buenos Aires.

I was packing up my belongings in Maria´s house with a nostalgic feeling when something dawned on me. Where was my debit card? After ransacking my money belt and not finding anything, I began to think about when I had used it last?

The last time I had used my debit card was when Cheryl and Lynn were visiting Iguazu. It´s then that I realized that I pulled the biggest ditzy move EVER. I left my card in the ATM because I was so excited at the prospect of going out to dinner in town and hanging out with the girls. I don´t know what is worse, having your card stolen or losing it yourself. I curse Argentinian ATMs for dolling out the cash before giving back the card.

So there it was a mere 3 hours before I was due to fly to Buenos Aires. I had no debit card and only the equivalent of $100 in pesos. I was trying to keep myself calm to think of a way out of the predicament that I had placed myself in but was getting more frantic by the minute. I thought through everything I would need money for. Hostels, meals, transport to the airport in both locations.

The good news was that I´m meeting Ronald in Lima to trek in Machu Pichu on Thursday and would be fine then. But I couldn´t figure out how I would survive 4 nights in Buenos Aires and 1 night in Miraflores before I got more cash.

Luckily, I always have a back-up plan due to my overactive mind that consistantly thinks of every possible situation before I leave for a trip. I left Ronald my other debit card in case of emergencies. This fell in to that category. He could bring it down and that would solve all of my problems for the rest of my time traveling. My own knight in shining armor. How appropriate.

But that still left me scratching my head as to how I was going to last until Peru. It was Saturday night and I knew that I wouldn´t have many options until Monday when Ronald could wire me some money to tide me over until we met up. He moved from being solely my knight in shining armor to a gift from God.

To top things off, I was planning on dropping off half of my stuff at Maria´s daughter´s flat in Buenos Aires so I didn´t have to lug an extra pack. So I hopped in a remise and told the driver to take me to the address that Maria had given me. Graciella, her daughter, was in the country for the weekend but had arranged it so that I could leave my pack with the doorman or her neighbor. When we arrived to the street, the building number was nowhere to be seen. Yes, to top off the no money situation, I had the wrong frickin´address.

Trying to keep from losing it, I asked the guy if this address was on the cross street that Maria Elsa had given me. Frustrated, he responded that this was where the apartment building number given to him should be, the cross street was about 10 minutes away and that it would cost more to get there. Just what I needed but what else could I do.

So we got to the cross street and I got out of the car to look around for the apartment. The number Maria Elsa gave me was definitely wrong because the numbers on the apartment buildings were about 1000 off. The remise driver was really pissed at this point but I shirkishly asked if I could run across the street to the locoturio to make a call to Graciella and/or Maria Elsa. He could see that I was on the brink of tears and said that he´d wait.

I dialed both numbers and got no one on the phone. The situation was looking bleaker by the minute. I walked back to the remise and told him that no one was there. With tears in my eyes, I could see his mood change from angry to sympathetic. I asked if he could take me to my hostel that was in the same neighborhood somewhere. He happily obliged and told me that I wouldn´t have to pay extra for any of the extra trips. Thank god he was a sucker for a damsal in distress.

I got to my hostel and spent a wrestless night sleeping and woke up Sunday vowing to myself to have a good day at the famous San Telmo market and Plaza Dorrego despite the fact that my stomach was in knots and I wouldn´t be able to clear my mind.

Luckily, this guy in the hostel approached me as I was staring at the map trying to figure out how to get to the neighborhood spending as little as possible. He asked if I´d like company and I immediately knew my day was looking up. It turns out Mike, the guy, is a South American travel guide from England and knows the city like the back of his hand. We spent a gloriuos day touring the San Telmo market, saw free tango in the Plaza Dorrego and walked along the riverfront in the posh Puerto Madryn. It was great to be led around from one location to the next, not having to think. It was an added bonus that I was surrounded by great conversation about traveling around south america.

I knew that the worst had passed and that it was time to enjoy Buenos Aires. Even better, I wouldn´t have to sustain myself solely on tuna sandwiches and yogurt for the remainder of my time here. Monday was only a day away and I had plans with Graciella to get rid of my pack and tour the city some more with her. After going through such a traumatic 2 days, I am now appreciative of a lot more and more importantly, I know the true value of a peso.

Carnival Iguazu = Samba + Butts + Fake Foam

2006-02-20T18:57:00.000-03:00

Carnival is synonomous with fiestas, music, parades and excess. Carnival season has officially begun in South America and even the tiny town of Puerto Iguazu was celebrating. The festivities didn´t disappoint.

Christina, Lorena and I decided to head on up to the first night of the festivities not knowing what to expect. My experience can be summed up in three words: samba, butts and fake foam.

Walking up to the parade, we could hear the pounding of the rhythmic drums which immediately got me moving and groving. I´m a sucker for a good beat. We started weaving through the massive crowds to get a better look at the procession and were immediately sprayed with fake foam or ¨snow¨as they call it here. Unfortunately, no one had warned me that this was part of the fun and I wound up inhaling a mouth full of fake snow as I screamed at the shock of being sprayed by some pre-pubescent boy. For the rest of the night, I was covered in the stuff and loving every minute of the electric atmosphere that is Carnival.

The parade was more like some barbaric yet artsy ritual that resembled a continuous lap dance. The men were banging out their frustrations on the drums with a reckless abandon producing some serious rhythms while the women were gyrating around to the beats in sparkly-barely there-outfits that left little to the imagination. Butts were hanging out for all to see, dancing to the drums as if they had a life of their own. Seriously folks, it was darn impressive to see how these latin women could move. I had never felt so rhythmically challenged in all my life.

Equally baffling was the fact that woman of all ages took part in the tantallizing tease. This included little girls of no more than 3 sporting barely-there outfits attempting to mimic the movements of a lap dancer. I looked on in disbelief, perplexed that parents would let their young girls be oggled by hundreds of men like that. After the shock wore off, I became an observer in awe of a tradition full of life that seemed to embrace women and their bodies. I went back for the next two nights to take in more of the sights and sounds, butts and all.

Sounds of Iguazu

2006-02-16T22:00:00.000-03:00

I have a little over a week left in my volunteer stint and have been reflecting on my time here. It´s been amazing but I´m also ready to move on and go exploring. I´ve officially extended my South American trip so I can backpack for a month and it feels great to start daydreaming and planning my future adventures away from Iguazu. In the meantime, here´s a quick glimpse in to more of my life down here.

Sounds of Iguazu
- Cucharas humming (think Cicadas only larger and louder)
- Local dogs howling in packs around the neighborhood at night. One dog starts and the next thing you know you have a chorus of dogs barking all over the town as if communicating in secret code to the rest of their packs.
- Frogs--every night I´m serenaded to sleep by what seems to be hundreds of frogs that have made their home in Maria Elsa´s unused pool.
- Motos (or Mopeds) speeding away on the bumpy unpaved roads
- Argentinian novellas (think soap operas but cheesier and faker, if at all possible) Maria Elsa is half deaf and LOVES watching these each night and insists on blasting the volume.
- The creak of my bedroom fan as it turns back and forth. If it wasn´t so darn hot and essential, the fan would drive me absolutely batty.
- The sound of a marching band practising for Carnival. Every night around 7 they start and jam out. I hope to see the end result this weekend to celebrate.
- Wind blowing in my face mixed with the hum of the El Practico bus every day. Think 1970´s yellow bus, often crammed with people, struggling to make it from gear to gear.

Home Alone with Toto, the dog

2006-02-10T18:02:00.000-03:00

After an amazing trip down to Patagonia, I was feeling refreshed and ready to head back to Iguazu for the rest of my volunteer stint. Maria, my house mother, has been recovering from a stroke and had been having major pain with some nerves in her face. While we were in Calafate, she was heading to Buenos Aires to get surgery and was hoping to get back in time for my return.

That wasn´t the case and I was actually looking forward to having time to myself to chill out, reflect and just relax. I returned home, entered the gate and immediately called for Toto, Maria´s lovely boxer. Maria had told me on the phone that he wasn´t eating and seemed a bit depressed which worried me. South America has a pet culture that would shock the pants off the SPCA. Food doesn´t seem to be a daily requirement for their pets nor does shelter from the rain.

He came over to me and I noticed this major cut on his hind leg that resembled some sort of bite with an undeterminable thing popping out and he was bleeding. Not pretty to say the least. My mind began racing to think of how I was going to get this dog to the vet without a car, without a leash and not knowing exactly where the vet was located although I had remembered passing one on the bus home from work.

I wound up calling Maria Elsa after looking up words to describe the injury. Deep cut, hind leg, things protruding, bite, etc. She didn´t seem too concerned, which somehow didn´t shock me, and told me that she´d call me back in 10 minutes. Well, 10 minutes turned in to an hour. In the meantime, I sat in the laundry room with Toto and the phone petting him and trying to pry my eyes away from the gruesome sight.

She wound up calling me back and told me that her neice would be coming over to help me take Toto to the vet. That was at 4. Stupid me thought that would mean she´d arrive within the hour forgetting that time is different in South America. So I waited and waited. I was beginning to get angry and questioned who was supposed to be watching and feeding Toto and why the heck wouldn´t they have seen this giant gash? 3 and a half hours later, she showed up on foot. At least she knew where the leash was. Somehow it became my responsibility to put the thing on. I´d never seen the likes of this leash before, if you could even call it one, and wound up inventing a way to put the thing around Toto´s neck. I was now covered in red mud, sweating profusely, very irritated and was dragging this crazy dog across the yard as she smiled at me just watching. The nerve of some people!

We arrived at the vet, which was thankfully only 3 blocks away, and walked in. It turns out that Toto had larvae under his skin that were alive, about to hatch and moving their way out from under the skin. Apparently this is a very common ailment for animals here when the weather is really hot and humid and they´re outside a lot. When the vet pulled the first larva out from the wound, I thought I´d nearly pass out never expecting to see the likes of that come out of the wound. I mean, his wound was not a bite as I had originally thought. Rather it was infested with larvae! She wound up pulling about 30 larvae, gave me a prescription for some antibiotics and an aerosal spray to put on the infected area and told me to come back the next night to get the rest of them.

So my time alone has been a bonding one with Toto with numerous trips to the vet. In the end, I know I have a friend for life in Toto after helping him through the infestation.

The Argentine Capitol of Trekking...El Chalten

2006-02-07T11:31:00.000-03:00

After such an amazing experience in Torres del Paine, I managed to convince Cheryl to give backpacking or trekking as they call it in Argentina, a try in El Chalten. I think my shear excitement and giddiness was proof enough that it would be a hike of a lifetime. That and the fact that I told her I´d carry the tent and the majority of the food so her pack wasn´t too heavy sold her on the deal.

We arrived in to the tiny town of about 200 residents at 5 pm with no plans other than to rent some gear and to set off in to the mountains. Luckily, darkness doesn´t set in until about 10-10:30 every night during the summer months so we had plenty of time.

We got our tent, stove and thermarests, packed our packs and headed to the National Park office to get a map and a route. Luckily, we had bought our food in El Calafate to prepare. We were told that there weren´t any banks nor ATMs in El Chalten and I figured that in a village that isolated, the grocery store prices would be a little more expensive.

We found out that we had 2 camping options for the first night. One we would surely be able to reach and the other was questionable given the time remaining before the sunset. Cheryl and I both knew that it would be a hell of a lot easier if we could reach the second camping destination because we were planning on doing 2 other treks in the area the next day. Knowing this, we set off on our journey, hoping to get to the Poincenot camp.

As were heading to the trail head, I was mentally going through my checklist of gear and realized that I almost made a crucial mistake. We had fuel, a stove, plenty of food but no pot to cook our dinners in. Dóh! Luckily, we passed another rental store and were now ready to go.

We got to the first base camp in less time than expected and decided to go for the gusto and get to the next camp. Cheryl was really getting in to trekking which made the experience all the more better. We wound up making it to the second camp with about a half our to spare. Mission accomplished.

I had never seen so many bakcpackers gathered in one camp. It was like this utopian backpacking civilization set in one of the most beautiful natural areas in the world. I was truly home surrounded by so many like-minded people. Ronald would have loved it here and I wished that I could have been sharing this with him.

The next day was spent hiking to one mind-blowing vista, lake, mountain view or river crossing after another. (Piedras Blancas, Laguna Torre, Laguna de los Tres)I´m not even going to attempt to describe the beauty because I wouldn´t be able to do it justice. Pictures are coming soon.

After a full day of hiking, we still had to get to our next camping destination and found ourselves cutting it close to make it to the next spot before sunset...again. We made it and had some more tasty spaghetti before going to bed completely exhausted and content after an uncontrollable giggle session reflecting on the past couple days and all that we had been through.

We hiked out the next day and celebrated with a beer in town and a good night´s sleep in a hostel with a warm shower. El Chalten was definitely the highlight of my trip to Patagonia. Torres del Paine and the Perito Moreno Glaciar were good, but there is something about trekking and going through to range of emotions that comes with backpacking to set the experience apart from the rest.

Quotes to summarize the experience and slap happy state we stayed in for most of the time.
I have to remember to chew the spaghetti instead of swallowing it whole.
-Cheryl (while eating dinner on the first night of trekking after racing against sunset to make it to the second campsite)

I think I need an orderly to change my pants for me.
-Me after our second and longest day of trekking as I was getting changed in the tent before bed. My legs just didn´t have any more energy in them.

5 Star Camping

2006-02-04T20:31:00.000-03:00

As you all know, I love camping and thought I had experienced just about all things camping. That was until I signed up for a tour in Torres del Paine, Chile for a camping and hiking tour. It was only about $20 more expensive than piecing all the parts of the trip together on our own and sometimes, convenience wins out.

We left our lovely hostel in Calafate bright and early to board a van for the next 5 hours. Next stop, Torres del Paine. Patagonia has a very stark and barren landscape. The Chilean side of Patagonia makes up 17.5% of Chile´s total land but this same area makes up less than 1% of the country´s total population. We passed next to nothing, the roads were not paved and were few and far between. It amazed me that such high speeds could be met on such uneven terrain. The bumps were like a massage and lulled me to sleep for a bit until Carlos, one of Cheryl and I´s newfound friends would wake us up. He decided that since he couldn´t sleep, no of us would. If he and Luis weren´t so endearing, I would have smacked him. They helped make the trip that much better.

Crossing the border was interesting. It really was in the middle of nowhere. We stepped out of the van and I could only think of one word to describe it...WINDY. Seriously folks, I´ve never experienced wind like this before. I have videos to prove it. Wind continued to be a theme throughout the rest of our trip.

The first day we spent getting in to the park and stopping at some amazing vistas and doing a couple short hikes to get to the sights, Paine Massif, Cuernos del Paine and Paine Grande. I can´t wait to post some of the pics.

When we arrived at the campsite, this is when I knew that we were in the midst of a 5 star camping experience. Our tents had already been set up and we passed a dining tent. Yes, that´s right a dining tent. I felt like I could no longer call myself a camper surrounded by this luxury.

Because we had 2 hours until dinner, I asked our guide, Juan, if there were any other hikes in the area that I could do. He told me about condor lookout so Cheryl and I set off on our next adventure with the wind howling. The sky was brooding, it was raining out in the distance and the wind was howling. Crossing over the pass, the wind was surging and I felt as if it had the power to suspend my body as I leaned in to it. I imagine this is what weightlessness would feel like in space. We spent some time looking out and reflecting on this beautiful area and then hiked down to dinner.

You know you´re in camping luxury when you have 3 courses and wine. Yes, glorious wine. Carlos, Luis, Cheryl and I managed to finish off 2 bottles. Carlos, Luis and I wound up sitting around the table for another 2 hours talking about life, cultures, the war, Americans and whatever else popped in to our heads. Wine and conversation in spanish. What a perfect way to end the day.

The next day we embarked on a real 8 hour trek to get to the base of the Tres Cuernos or 3 Horns. It felt good to feel the air surge through my muscles and I felt as if I was redeeming myself from living with such abundance the night before. The last part of the trek was more like bouldering. I knew that the end destination had to be good if I was to go through all this. We were all huffing and puffing but loving every minute of it. I knew that I was going to have to head to El Chalten to backpack near Fitz Roy as part of my next Patagonian experience.

Inspiration given to me by Luis at the end of the trip to Torres del Paine.

Porque este camino no se adonde va,
Por eso mismo lo quiero andar.

I don´t know where this road is going,
For this reason, I want to walk it.
-Rosalia de Castro

Buenos Aires in a night

2006-02-01T08:55:00.000-03:00

Cheryl and I have started our whirlwind trip down to El Calafate for some cooler weather and mountains. We had a layover in Buenos Aires for about 12 hours and decided to make the most of it. That of course meant, a tango show. We got in to our hostel, showered and headed out to Bar Sur in the San Telmo barrio, which is famous for the tango.

The show was much better than the one we saw in Iguazu. I now understand why Buenos Aires is the tango capital of the world. It also helped that the food just kept coming which made the experience that much better. After about an hour and half of sleep, we wound up catching our 5 am plane down to Calafate.

Asado...the meat dilemma

2006-01-28T11:30:00.000-03:00

Argentinians are famouse for a couple of things. Gauchos, tango, mate and asado. Last night a bunch of our coworkers put together an asado feast for us. I was both apprehensive and curious because I´d heard such positive things about the grilled meat. The only problem being, I haven´t eaten steak in over 15 years and wasn´t sure I´d be able to get the meat down but vowed to give it a try. When in Rome...

I was hoping to only snag a small piece to test the waters but Rudolpho wound up giving me a huge helping with 3 different types of meat. I started safe with a chorizo sandwhich which melted in my mouth. I was off to a good start. After finishing my chorizo, I was left with two hunks of meat staring at me on my plate. It was time to dig in.

I put the first piece in my mouth and instantly loved the flavor. Score number two. I bit down. It was tender and melted in my mouth. I couldn´t believe it, I actually liked steak! I wiped my plate clean and even went in for seconds.

It was a great night spend with new friends, new traditions and lasting memories. It was wonderful to see my coworkers outside of work with their significant others and children and feel so welcomed. It was as if we´d sat around the table enjoying asado for years.

Tres Chanchas Pequenas

2006-01-26T19:10:00.000-03:00

For those of you who need a translation, the title means three little pigs. Sylver, Cheryl and I gorged ourselves by splurging on a buffet lunch at the Sheraton Hotel in the park. It´s the only hotel in the National Park, is listed in Lonely Planet as a must-do splurge and was recommended to me by 3 girls I met in the hostel in Buenos Aires.

Since Sylver and Cheryl´s last day in Iguazu is tomorrow, we felt like it was a proper send-off. Don´t get me wrong, we´ve been eating well but put a buffet of amazing food in front of us with options galore and we´re going to eat like there´s no tomorrow. Salmon, cheese, salads, ravioli and best of all desserts. Oh, the desserts. We each had at least two pieces of cake and torts and sat there wondering how we were going to go back to work in the heat.

Worst of all, today was the day that Sergio, one of the big bossmen, wanted to talk to me about marketing and how I could help during my last month at the park. Between the heat and the full belly, I didn´t make the best impression but managed to keep from drooling and falling asleep. I got my point across and am going to present a bunch of ideas to him when I get back from the Patagonian mountains.

Yes, that´s right. The three of us are heading down to El Calafate for a week and in to Chile to trek on some glaciers and get to some cooler weather. Woohoo!

Guarani Life

2006-01-25T11:53:00.000-03:00

The Missiones region of Argentina, where Iguazu is located, was initially inhabited by the Guarani people. The land was taken from them and now they are forced to live on the outskirts.

I´ve witnessed a definitive segregation between the Argentinians and the Guarani people and am baffled by it. In the park, a few Guarani people are allowed to sell their handcrafts by the entrance and in front of our information booth. I have yet to see any Argentinians interact with them. The Guarani´s have been silently obeserving us foreigners and I´ve been silently observing them. I have made a vow to myself to initiate conversations, especially after visiting one of their villages yesterday.

Along our bus route to the park, there is this small hand-painted sign that promoted a Guarani village tour up a dirt road. When we asked our coworkers about this tour, they had no idea what it was.

We decided to find out just what it was. We walked down the dirt road and came to the village. There were numerous huts made from natural components. They were primative yet homey and most of the yards were lined with corn stalks and pineapple bushes. There was a large group of 100 Guarani´s garthered around in the backyard of the biggest building.

As we approached, the kids smiled at us, dirty and intrigued. Miguelito, our guide, came to introduce himself. It turned out that they were celebrating a family reunion of over 200 members who had come in from all over the area.

The Guarani people had set up a 25 minute walk through the forest that included demonstrations of their man-made animal traps. It was amazing to see the ingenuity and major engineering feats they were able to create using the land as their supplies. Learning how they were able to sustain themselves and their families off the earth made me yearn for a simpler time.

Miguelito had the utmost of patience with us answering all our questions. About 100 people lived in village and there were about 7 people to a hut, that was no bigger than an oversized family room in the U.S. The number of people depended on how many children were in the family. He even taught us how to say hello and goodbye in Guarani, a tribal sounding dialect. It made him smile as we attempted to pronounce the words.

One of the highlights of our walk through the forest was when we came up to a large hanging vine. He told me that the kids liked to swing on it and prodded me to try it. Skeptically and intrigued, I tugged on the vine to test out whether or not it would hold me. Still unsure, I asked him to show me how. Sure enough, the vine was able to hold him up as he went wooshing back and forth. Giggling, I proceeded to swing with a childlike freedom.

It was a great day to learn a little more about the founders and native people from this region.

Singing in the rain

2006-01-21T18:12:00.000-03:00

I don´t have much to share with you all but I´m stranded in the internet cafe. Rain is pouring down outside and it´s much to far to walk in my white Iguazu Argentina work shirt. The Argentinian men don´t need a show tonight.

For the past couple nights around 6, thunderstorms have rolled in which has cooled things off considerably but has brought the humidity out in full force. I don´t know which is worse but for pure vanity´s sake, I would take the heat over humidity any day. My hair is completely out of control. If I were to leave it down, I would instantly be transformed in to a giant chia pet head. I don´t think the tourists would want to talk to me.

I´m hoping that I won´t have to solely work in the information booth for that much longer. I was given a copy of their marketing plan and can´t wait to get home to review it to provide comments and suggestions. Marketing a product or place that you actually believe in makes all the difference in the world. I may get to leave a small mark on this natural wonder after all. It´ll be interesting to see how prevalent the machismo culture is in this day and age. I´ll try to keep my feminism and strong opinions in check but am not making any promises.

Me talk pretty one day

2006-01-19T18:08:00.000-03:00

Every morning I get up and grab some fresh fruit to eat for breakfast before heading off to the bus stop to go to Iguazu Falls. It´s about a 40 minute ride because of all the stops but I enjoy watching the mix of tourists and locals board the bus.

For the past week and a half, I´ve been working at the information booth giving people information about what there is to do at the park and where to go. It´s so much fun to find out about people´s adventures in the park and in South America. My goal is to be able to go through instructions in spanish without any blatant errors and to work on my accent. Just today, I was giving instructions on how to get to the upper circuit when this man asked me, ¿Que accento es eso? Meaning, he had never heard the likes of my accent and was a little baffled by it. When I told him that I was from the US, he smirked and walked away. All I could do was laugh and vow to speak better.

Random news-
-This past week Michelle Bachelet was elected president of Chile. She´s the second woman to be elected president in Latin America. It´ll be interesting to see what type of relationship she´s willing to foster with the US and Bush.

Un paseo de la luna llena

2006-01-16T20:12:00.000-03:00

Last night, I got to take part in the full moon walk to the Devil´s Throat Falls, the most powerful waterfalls in all of South America. I knew it was going to be good but I had no idea it would be as mesmerizing as it was.

We set out at 10:00pm to begin our journey underneath the full moon. We took a train through the forest to get to the main station and then proceeded to walk 2 kilometers to the falls with only the moon lighting our way. We crossed over tranquil rivers and bodies of water but as we got closer, we could hear the looming roar of the falls calling us closer.

When we finally reached the lookout for the falls, I instantly fell silent. During the day, there was a masculine fierceness to the falls that was full of power. Under the moonlight, it was as if the falls had transformed themselves in to a more feminine and comforting body of water that had a subtle power and strength to them. The moonlight reflected off the massive mist clouds that sprung up from the bottom of the falls, creating a mesmerizing effect. I sat for a half hour in silence listening to the roar of the falls as the mist grazed across my body both warming and cooling it with each passing breeze. I´m not sure I have ever been as at peace in nature as I was during that time. The calmness and serenity that rushed through my body is something that I hope to never forget.

The walk back to the train and the train ride itself was spent in silence by most. My thoughts were free to run wild and dance throughout my head leaving me with a smirk and a satisfaction that could only be obtained through living this dream at Iguazu Falls.

Tango

2006-01-16T20:01:00.000-03:00

Wow, where to start? Every day, I pinch myself and count my blessings that I was given a chance to experience what I´m experiencing in Argentina.

On Saturday night, Maria Elsa took us to see our first tango show. Before going, I was toying with the idea of taking tango lessons in town but after seeing the intricate foot movements and fluidity it takes to dance the tango, I don´t think that will be happening. I would be the first American girl to kill her dance instructor by stomping on his feet repeatedly. It should definitely be left to the experts. From here on out, I´ll just envision myself dancing and being tossed gracefully across the floor.

Crossing the border

2006-01-13T18:58:00.000-03:00

Today, the girls and I decided to take a well deserved day off to head in to Paraguay to go shopping. Maria Elsa, our host mother, usually heads across the river in to Punte de Este a couple times of month to go shopping because it´s so much cheaper than Argentina, if you can imagine that. Part of me felt bad for exploiting an already poor country but then I managed to convince myself that I was still putting money in to their economy and they in turn were helping my tropical fashion style. Although it was heartbreaking to see the poverty that some of the people live in.

In reading up on the small Paraguayan city, I came to realize that it was one of the most corrupt cities in the country. Most shops only accept American dollars and there seemed to be a lot of black market electronics for sale. It was a bustling place full of people constantly coming up to you trying to sell socks of all things. I wound up leaving with 2 fabulous skirts, a present for Ronald for only $35 and a boat ride across the border. V. good day, indeed. Plus, I got my passport stamped for another country. It´s the little things that make me smile.

Random comments
-I think I ate tongue the other night. Of what, I dare not ask. Maria Elsa put a couple pieces on my plate and mumbled what it was. I was only half paying attention. Later in the conversation, we were talking about how to position your tongue to get a better accent and it dawned on me that they were using the same word to describe what I was eating. Yum...
-I am now going to put peaches, pineapple and bananas in my sangria. Maria Elsa surprised me after work with sangria and it was out of this world.

The Eighth Wonder of the World

2006-01-10T16:54:00.000-03:00

I´ve begun my work at Iguazu Falls National Park and am giddy with excitement about what I´m going to get to experience over the next 7 weeks.

I could never have imagined that everything would fall in to place so well. We met our boss yesterday and he kept giving us good news after good news. We can make our own schedules, have lunch provided for us, are given discounts at all the stores and can get on most of the tours for free. All I could tell him in return was that he´d made me happier than a little girl on her birthday. I´m hoping that he´ll understand my quirkiness over time, although I´m getting quite used to inquisitive looks from the workers and locals.

Yesterday, all we had to do was tour the park to see all of its glory. There are 275 waterfalls in the park and the big sucker, la garganta del diablo, is just unreal. Niagra Falls pales in comparison. The best part is that after 1 day of walking around sweating our butts off, there is still so much more to experience. This Thursday I´m going on a moonlight hike to the falls. Can my job get any better? I mean, I get to go on a hike with a full moon guiding me to one of the most beautiful sights I´ve ever seen.

And today, I got to volunteer at one of the main information centers to help people figure out where they´re going. Scary, I know but all I have to do is draw on a map and throw some facts out there to the people. I was in my glory trying to talk to people and loved when the Aussies, Brits and Americans would come by. I´m one step closer to being able to give my tour although I think I may scare the people off with the amount that I sweat. They will probably think I´m diseased or something.

Seriously folks, it´s crazy how hot is down here. I´ve given up trying to look presentable and have given up any semblance of make-up. I go to bed sweating and wake up sweating. I keep telling myself that I´ll get used to it over time.

And now I have to head back to our house. Horacio, my new love, is going to cook me and the other girls dinner tonight, feed us some kind of beer drink and give us rides on his motorcycle. Mind you, he´s a crazy 70 year old, motorcycle riding, tango dancing, argentinian electrician with a wit that is funnier than most people I know.

Mi casa es tu casa

2006-01-08T18:20:00.000-03:00

I can´t tell you what a whirlwind I´ve been on for the past 3 days. My mind can´t grasp that what I´ve experienced has only been over the coarse of 3 days.

I left Buenos Aires after being treated to a lovely lunch with my new friend, Olga from the plane, at an amazing cafe. From there I hopped on a 5:30 pm flight to Posadas, Argentina to meet my coordinator for the program. As I boarded the plane, they told me that I was first class. Mind you, I have only flown first class once and after lugging my back-pack all over the city, being completely sleep deprived yet strangely untired at the same time, this was music to my ears.

As I boarded the plane and took my seat another young woman took the seat next to me. She asked whether I was from here. When I said no, she immediately questioned, "Are you Jessica?". After blowing my mind, she introduced herself as Cheryl, another volunteer at the Iguazu project. I felt like I was a cast member of the Real World about to embark on an amazing experience, only one with more meaning. She´s from Manchester and is taking time off from work too. It was great to have a partner in crime to share the thoughts that had been running through my mind over the past couple days.

We arrived in Posadas and were greeted by Veronica, our program coordinator, and Sarah another i-to-i coordinator. The next day we met the third woman volunteering at the Iguazu project, Silver, who happens to be from N.J. I guess you just can´t take the "jersey" out of me. Our group was now complete. The 24 hours we spent in Posadas was a whirlwind until we boarded our 5 hour bus ride at 2:00am to Iguazu to get to our "home" with Maria Elsa. Truly an interesting experience but I won´t bore you with details.

We arrived at 6:00 in the morning and had to navigate to Maria Elsa´s house. It was so refreshing to finally be getting to my home base. The area is just incredible. Palm trees, flowers, birds and bugs all surrounded the countryside. It´s almost too beautiful for words. And yes, it´s freaking HOT! More entries on the heat to come.

The taxi took us down a dirt road and pulled up to an adorable house. I´m already in love with the area and am in love with Maria Elsa, my Argentinian mother. She´s one of the most warm and open women I´ve met in a long time and I feel completely at peace with her and in her beautiful home. I feel as though I´m at a tropical resort. It helps that my spanish has come flooding back and I haven´t had a problem communicating at all. Since I speak the most Spanish out of the group, I´ve become a translator of sorts. After less than 24 hours, I know it´s going to be hard to say good-bye when the time comes.

Odd bits of information I´ve picked up along the way
1.) The keyboard in Argentina is completely different. The alphabet keys are all in the same places but the symbols are all different and there´s a lot more choices. There also seems to be a wicked delay which makes typing in a sleep deprived state all the more fun.
2.) When our "internationally challenged" president came to Argentina on a recent trip, he was booed by the Argentine people and riots broke out. Why, you ask? Because he was above sampling any of the food and traditions of the Argentine people. He actually flew a separate plane down just for supplies. Not only did this contain all his food, it contained sheets, pillows and soap, all of which he had brought in to the hotels he stayed at. What Texan wouldn´t want to sample some of the best steak in the world?
3.) The television shows are all the same as in the U.S. and don´t have any dubovers. And the best part was that I even saw a commercial for the new "24". Life is very good south of the equator.
4.) When they say that el Puerto de Iguazu is on the border between Paraguay, Brazil and Argentina, they weren´t kidding. In my town, there´s this lookout where you can see all three countries. I could swim to each of the countries because only 2 rivers separate the three countries, the river Parana and the river Iguazu. So amazing.

Houston, we have a problem

2006-01-05T15:39:00.000-03:00

My journey to South America started in Newark airport on Tuesday at 2:30 in the afternoon. Things seemed simple enough. Board the plane to Houston. Once in Houston, catch a connecting flight to Buenos Aires. That couldn´t have been farther from the truth.

My 4:25pm flight to Houston was held up initialy for 2 hours because our flight crew was delayed and was coming in on another flight. I could have kicked myself for deciding to give up my cell phone, a convenience I wouldn´t need down in South America. Regardless, all was still good because I had a significant layover in Houston until my flight to Buenos Aires was scheduled to take-off. I and the other passengers happily boarded the plane. I fell asleep before take-off for what appeared to be hours but alas, we had not moved off the runway when I opened my eyes again.

It turned out that there was something wrong with a panel on the front of the plane and it was unsafe to fly. Couldn´t they have figured this out while we were waiting for the previous 2 hours? Pandomoneum broke out on the flight because they decided to repair the plane on the spot after returning to the gate. Since a good amount of passengers were spanish speaking, one would think that they would have spanish speaking representatives on board to explain the situation. But they didn´t and this confused elderly woman, Ajilda, was asking around frantically to see if anyone could speak spanish. No one responded so I decided to jump in there to get practicing my spanish. I managed to explain what was going on and that it was best for us to get to Houston, where more options were. She seemed to be comforted knowing that someone was there to explain, even it was me, with my rusty spanish skills.

We finaly took off at 9:30pm. The air crew was still hopeful that I was going to be able to fly out to Buenos Aires that night. Oh how they lead me on.

Getting there by Wed. was essential if I were to be able to meet up with my Aunt June and Uncle Bob, who were heading down to Antartica on Thursday. I mean, it´s not often that you get to meet up with your aunt and uncle in Buenos Aires. That had been something I´d been looking forward to for months.

We finally arrived in Houston at 1:30 am and it´s here that I found out I wouldn´t be flying out to Buenos Aires that night. They were scheduling those passengers heading to Buenos Aires on a flight at 1:35 the next day through Panama City and then on to Buenos Aires but we would be given a comped hotel stay and food voucher for the next morning. Ugghh.

I found Ajilda to explain what was going on and she had befriended 2 other older Argentinians, Juan and Olga. I would never have known just how much I would come to get to know this unlikely group. The kicker was that they were unable to book us on the flight that night and we had to report to the international ticketing desk the following morning by 10:30am. So I lead Juan, Olga and Ajilda to the hotel without anything more than the clothes on our back and carry-on luggage to get them checked in. We agreed to meet for breakfast the next morning giving me more time to practice my spanish in a cracked-out and sleep deprived state. Little did I know that breakfast would turn in to the whole day.

When we arrived at the ticketing office the next morning, the agents told us that the flight to Panama City that we were tentatively booked on was going to be delayed and that we most likely would not make our connecting flight to Buenos Aires in Panama City. At this point, I´m praying that this isn´t an omen for the duration of my time in South America and wondering if the trip I had once thought was meant to be no longer was.

The only option we had to get to Buenos Aires was to take the same flight we should have taken the day before at 9:30pm. And kicker was that the agents had to reroute our luggage out of the Panama City flight and back on to the later flight. I was smelling disaster at this point but tried to remain positive.

So with 9 hours to kill, our unlikely team, comprised of Ajilda, the NYC loving Argentinian professor and grandmother, Olga the spazy Argentinian psychologist and therapist, and Juan an older Argentinian DJ who splits his time between Buenos Aires and Elizabeth, NJ decided to head to downtown Houston to grab some lunch and walk around via the bus. What a sleep deprived group we made! No schedule and no idea of where we were heading. It turned out to be a wonderful day even though I must say, you don´t get the best impression of Houston from riding the bus.

All worked out and our team landed in Buenos Aires. Olga happened to live right by my hostel so she shared a remise(a safer form of the Argentinian taxi service)with me to prevent me from getting scammed and to cut the cost down for both of us. She even called the hostel to make sure that I arrived and that I had a place to stay. This action and our bond made this big city of Buenos Aires a little less overwhelming and more like home. I´m even going to her flat tomorrow for breakfast before I leave on my next flight to Posadas to start my volunteer orientation.

Regardless of the hastle, the lack of sleep, the fact that I had to wash my underwear in a sink, dry it with a hair dryer that morning and that I hadn´t slept more than 9 hours in 2 days, I wouldn´t trade this experience for anything. I was given an amazing opportunity to practice the language and get back in to the conversation flow while learning a great deal about the Argentinian culture.

And to think, all of this was only representative of my flight down...