Sun Arise…. And fill all the holes around….. and bring back the warmth to the ground. First rays appeared 1 1/2 hours before the sun made it over the ridge. Easter Sunday and we were up before the sun, on the road to El Calafate….. El Chalten is a small frontier town of about 1,000 at the toe of the canyon where the famous Cerro Torre and Fitzroy peaks are with glaciers all around. Had a fabulous hike into true vast wilderness (which by US standards means “roadless”) to these views.

Posted on April 10, 2012 by thebunguycord

Iguazu, Brazil, Argentina, Buenos Aires, Patagonia…. Have a very different feel from Peru and Ecuador. This may be yet one more example of their history…. And subsequent management, the foundations of which were laid in the history and the relationship to Spain and the Church. Of course, their physical conditions are also different. Enough to explain what appears to be happier people? Enough to explain what appears to be an overall higher level of prosperity? Not being an expert makes wild speculation a lot easier. So I’ll offer the wildass-guess observation that the northern regions of South America, like Central America and parts of the American Southwest experienced a very different type of history 1500-1700 as compared to the southern regions of South America. Aspects are common: Spanish invasion, occupation, and enslavement (either actual physical enslavement or economic enslavement) are shared experiences. Domination, in partnership with the royalty and elite, by the Catholic church are shared… Suppression of the people’s own religions, cultures, and spirit in favor of a convenient religious–commercial alliance is the common thread. But the form of the suppression seems to be different. From eastern Brazil southerly the suppression seems to have been more of a cooptation of local beliefs, cultures, etc., rather than just suppression through military force. Not that military force wasn’t tried and successful throughout much of the region but rather the seeds of the Jesuit approach that sought to coopt through education of the local elite together with inclusion of local art and cultural practices into their European spiritual practices. What difference does it make? Well, I would offer that Peru, Ecuador, and the regions north were so brutally suppressed and enslaved (economically and spiritually) and for so long that the indigenous people’s and large parts of the mestizos were depleted (robbed?) of their human nature to try, to work to get out of their impoverished condition. They work incredibly hard but (it seems) within a defined universe that says this is their lot and they should have no expectation of anything more. Dispirited resignation. Don’t be fooled though. They understand the game and work within its boundaries. Whether it is the little children in their beautiful and colorful traditional clothing who have been taught to approach the tourist not with smiles (which are beautiful like all children) but with fetching, sad, almost desperate beggar expressions….. Until they go off to play with their children friends. Similarly, these children are prepared physically to work the crowd. Their beautiful, colorful, traditional clothing is impeccable, pressed, and worn just right. No rags, these tidy uniforms. Yet, on a closer look, they are betrayed by the dabs of dirt applied like rouge to their cheeks. Cannot afford to wash? …cannot afford to remove the thumb prints of their mothers that stuck when the rouge was applied that morning. They also understand how to work the international theater, these otherwise politically and economically disenfranchised people. We are on their side when they have the massive political rallies and strikes that they have had in Ecuador, Peru, and Argentina while we are here. They understand that the extremely destructive open-pit mining destroys their present and their future; and that they will see little or none of the economic wealth that would be extracted. They understand that their anti-mining demonstrations will get them the international exposure and pressure to gain political strength that they do not otherwise have. I do not intend to diminish the severe economic plight of the indigenous peoples. I agree with them on their concerns for their own well being as well as the immediate and long term disastrous environmental and social impacts associated with the mining, deforestation, and oil developments that are being approved everywhere. I applaud that they have learned the political skills to bring international pressures to the decision makers that otherwise could continue the centuries-old practices that impoverished these people in the first place. I regret, however, that it appears to be a losing battle–the continuation of the centuries-old exploitation and ruination of these regions for the financial gain of the rich and powerful in far off lands seems unabated by anything other than a few “show and tell” spots to drag the international delegations through on their periodic visits from far away lands. Again, I applaud the efforts of those brave enough to sit in front of the train. The places remain stunningly beautiful. The people appear to be happy. The riches here do appear to be boundless–as if one could continue the exploitation indefinitely without serious effect. For some perspective though, consider the following: for all the gold the Aztecs, Mayans, Inkans, and those that followed mined, shaped, fought over, stole, sank, decorated Europe, etc., it accounts for less than 10% of the gold mined since 1865– and our pace and our technology are increasing, not decreasing, the quantity and impact (vast open pit mines using all manner of chemical processes) of the mining activities throughout South America. And not just gold: copper, aggregates, silver, iron, you name it. Mining and poisoning the people, the lands, and the rivers. In the middle of this remains some of the most impressive natural wonders on the planet. One of them is Iguazu–arguably the largest natural water falls in the world. Situated with the border between Brazil and Argentina running through the middle of the falls, they appear to have cooperated extremely well to make this an enjoyable experience for all visitors while minimizing the impact on the falls and surrounding semi-tropical forests. Miles of well designed and well built elevated walkways (to minimize disturbance of the terrain) take thousands of tourists to the most incredible views. Interpretive signs in multiple languages enable most people to understand something of what they are looking at and a slice of understanding of the forests that they walk though. (Don’t misunderstand me, ALL of the parks, reserves, etc., that we have visited in all of the regions are incredibly well done. They understand the value of this export commodity–tourism–in their economy and what a foreign exchange earner it is— per dollar of expenditure, tourism probably retains 5-6 times more foreign exchange within the country and probably has a much higher multiplier effect than any other sector. I am focussing here on Iguazu but the same can be said of the highlands of Patagonia (where we found beautiful hiking trails that, based on the low usage, probably would never get built in the US) or butterfly trails in Ecuador…) Anyway, watch the movie The Mission from about 1985 with DeNiro and Jeremy Irons. Based on true stories (mashes several together) from about 1570, it provides some of the beauty, the conflicts within the invading troups (The Church, the Jesuits, the commercial interests, and each of their armies) and the locals caught in between. It takes some liberties (surprise!) with the locations, the people, etc., put it will show you a little of what we are in the middle of.

Posted on April 10, 2012 by thebunguycord

El Chalten, Patagonia

Posted on April 7, 2012 by thebunguycord

Pheeleeps!

Posted on April 7, 2012 by thebunguycord

Pheeleeps, Pheeleeps, the man at the gate is calling our name, we are the last to board, the flight is ready to leave! Guy who has been busy at the airport writing pages for the blog, is looking a little dishevelled, his hat is sitting at a cocked angle, he is wearing a rain jacket, on top of four other layers of clothing, he is carrying a backpack, and two further bags…as he arrives at the entrance to the plane the Captain is standing ready to greet him “come on in, he says” Guy seeing that this fellow has a definite sense of humour replies, “well it would be a bit cold if I stayed on the outside of this plane”, we are off to a good start. We are traveling to El Calafate, an hour and a half flight. Somehow we knew this would be a little different and it was. Firstly just after take off, the Captain (with the door of the cockpit still open) announces that he hopes we wont mind but that he would like to increase our journey by ten minutes in order to fly us all at a lower than normal level (I suspect) over the beautiful lakes of Bariloche, as he does so in Spanish and English we have a commentary on what is below us. It was spontaneous and beautiful and at the end of the lake as we rose higher in the sky, everyone clapped. This was Aerolineas Argentinas, the national airline and what a refreshing way to treat passengers. Not for this Captain the anonymity of just being the voice behind the face. Good for them.

We arrive at El Calafate and transfer to a small bus, just six passengers, an American in his twenties who was chatting to an English guy about his age. A young couple, Guy and I. We are cold from waiting outside but soon are very hot in the bus as the driver has the heat on max. The young couple fall asleep, the guys talk, comparing notes as men do! Guy and I play cards for about an hour and a half. The scenery never changes, it becomes very monotonous, the journey will take three hours. Guy is concerned that the driver (who has already done the trip one way) is rubbing his eyes,and asks for a few minutes break to stretch his legs. This the driver agrees to and I notice that he has a quick cigarette at the front of the bus, we are hoping that this will keep him awake. Guy at this time moves up to sit beside him and the rest of the journey continues without event.

We arrive in El Chaten before dark. This mountain town described as a “beautiful mountain village” seems far from it when we arrive. The population is 1,000 at the height of the season. It is pouring with rain and the place looks desolate, this is autumn and the season is at an end. There are many buildings half finished and there seems no warmth or soul about the place. Already we are wondering why we have spent three hours in a bus (and will spend three hours going back) to see this place. We find somewhere for dinner and then go back to our hotel room. A knock on the door, there the receptionist stands with a note. Apparently our guide will collect us at 8.30am and take us for a hike….yikes, that is not only a bit early but the bumf says we can have a short walk or a long walk, I think we had already chosen the former. I asked her politely how long the walk would be and without hesitation she said about nine hours!!!! I knew immediately that this would have to be changed and spent the next half an hour setting about doing just that.

We changed the guide to 9.30am, we then discussed with him that we are not really hikers, probably the only reason that people come here! In fact 85% of the people who do come here are from outside Argentina, all in search of a challenge to climb or hike. We came because it seemed to be a part of Patagonia that was on our list of places to see and was recommended by someone (not sure who). He assesses how we look (I think) and decides to give us several options. We can walk for two hours to the “saddle” and then see how things are going but he is sure we will be fine. The scenery got more interesting and dramatic and beautiful as we climbed higher, we heard and saw some birds, the sun came out and I began to wonder why it is that when someone suggests a walk I seem to baulk. I was thinking about this a lot on the walk (which lasted in total about four hours). It seems that as a child we didn’t go for walks. Most of the walking that I have done in my life has been as a young mother. It was always a part of family life to go for long walks and at the end of it everyone felt refreshed and envigorated. So what is the attraction? First and foremost, for me, it is the fresh air. It must be that this takes precedent over every other reason. Why? Well unless one is walking with complete security that there are no hazards underfoot we normally spend 95% of the walk looking at our feet. Is it just me? No it is not and today was proof of that. When I was not looking at my feet or stopping to view the magnificent scenery I glanced firstly at our guide Andreas who was definitely looking at his feet and secondly at Guy behind who was doing the same. So do we miss an awful lot doing this? Yes I am sure that we do which brings me back to my first point. It is really the fresh air, sunshine and the feeling of just being outdoors that is important. So do I need to walk. Well my mother walked every day of her life for at least half an hour and didn’t miss a day, rain or shine. She lived to be 99 so I guess there is my answer…….

Guess who came to dinner?

Posted on April 3, 2012 by thebunguycord

On Water, Coatis, Iguazu, and people watching

Posted on April 3, 2012 by thebunguycord

Water, water everywhere, we are at the famous waterfalls in Iguassu, Brazil. Guy and I were having a conversation about water on the train from Aguas Calientes to Ollantaytambo in Peru last week. I was finding difficulty defining water and its relationship to the planet, when he came up with exactly what I was looking for, it is of course like the blood inside our bodies, it just flows, is full of all the natural ingredients we need to stay alive and without it we could not survive.

We arrived in Iguassu from Lima, both of us had a bout of sickness which chose to arrive on our flight, so hoping to avoid the immigration queues at the airport (for fear of puking down the back of some poor unsuspecting person) we decided to ask our flight attendant to arrange for “assistance” through the airport. To our immense surprise we were greeted with wheelchairs, first one for Guy (who was feeling and suffering a great deal more than me) and then another for me. I suppose I had in my mind one of those motorized vehicles that go sailing past you in big airports, that you look longingly at when you are carrying too much, your feet hurting and wondering how much further you have to cover to either embark or disembark on a plane, alas not at this airport. We were whisked through customs, our bags collected and yes I can still see the surprised look on the face of our “guide” who came to collect us from the airport, he must have thought, oh no two old fossils, what have I let myself in for! We did however reassure him that we would be fine the next day but that we wanted a day to recover and could we reschedule our trip to the “Falls” to the following day.

And so we had a day by the pool at the Hotel das Cataratas. We arrived at the pool at lunchtime (with no intention other than to rest under the sun umbrella) but first we thought we might try a little lunch. A delicious smoked salmon bagel arrived which we cut in half (neither of us were feeling very hungry). Just as I was enjoying my second mouthful I saw scuttling past my feet at the rate of knots a furry creature, no sooner had I opened my mouth to tell Guy what I had seen when suddenly there it was on the table snatching the salmon and causing chaos to the condiments on the table which then smashed on the floor, this was our introduction to the “coatis”. Hell bent on getting as much food and as quickly as possible these creatures, not unlike raccoons, sit and wait until innocent people like us are about to savour the delights of a simple smoked salmon bagel! A few minutes later it also landed in the middle of the table of the English couple sitting next to us stealing a bowl full of nuts. I cant remember ever having seen a woman move from her chair so quickly and hide behind her (rather large) husband for protection.

One could write a novel about the people we observed around that pool. First there was the couple from India (via England) who clearly live in the USA judging by the accents of their three children, two boys and a girl aged approximately 14, 12 and nine. Their mother sat without moving once, reading her book without looking up while her three children and husband played in the pool, how nice for her! The only thing that I found disturbing was when the youngest son (in a very loud voice) boasted that he was only nine and had already been to six continents and that he had just met a boy of eleven who had only been to four….

Then there was the single English lady, aged in her early sixties who sat next to me, a very sad face, obviously traveling alone, feeling somewhat insecure but delighted with the attention the pool boy was giving her while assisting her with her towels and sun bed…who knows what lay behind the sadness that she was unable to hide.

On the other side of the pool I was unable to block out the sound of an American male, deep southern voice and talking non stop. Sitting next to him patiently hanging on his every word, I suspect was his “lady friend ” not his wife, a woman that he had probably tempted into coming to Brazil with him only for her to discover that he didn’t hear a word she was saying. When we returned later after a break from the scene, he was still talking but by this time she was well “into her cups” and looked oblivious to everything going on around her

Funny how the bossy people can also stand out around a pool! Not long after their arrival (I suspect this was the case as a tour bus had arrived earlier dispatching a lot of rather tired looking people) another English couple came to the pool, lily white, again probably in their seventies. He desperately wanted a swim and some time to unwind…but no, his wife was determined that she was going to get some photos of him in the pool to show the family and friends when they returned home. No sooner had he done his first length of the pool when this piercing voice started shouting at him, “ wave at the camera, put your hands up” not once but five times she shouted this at him, problem was that every time she took the photo (with the flash on in the middle of the day, outside!) his hands were already back in the water, “oh for goodness sake” she shouted again (I felt so sorry for the people who were trying to enjoy their afternoon siesta) I keep missing you, “do it again, wave, wave”. Obviously the family had given her the camera as a present for the trip and she had no idea what she was doing, after about five minutes of this he had had enough, got out of the pool went to the sunbed, lay down and promptly went to sleep, she in the meantime collected her stuff and headed for her room, hope they have a great time!!!

The other assortment of people included three gay couples, and numerous (what Guy would call) May to December couples, ie the older guy with the younger girl. Many different languages were in the air and of those Eastern European were in abundance.

Guy has a lot of statistics about the “Falls” things that I call “boy’s stuff”. An outstandingly beautiful area. It would have been better to have visited on a weekday as there were so many people there which took away some of the beauty for me, but still I would not have missed the experience….