Argentinos and other people

There are a few cultural things that mystify me about Argentinos besides their “tranquilo” attitude.  They patiently stand in long, unnecessary lines.  For example, they line up at bus stops, but some people sit on benches and others walk in from the other direction when the bus arrives.  No one seems concerned about line cutting; I’m not sure they even have a concept of it.

They also stand patiently in long lines to take their pictures at tourist sites and they don’t just stand smiling in the pictures.  They strike extravagant or sultry poses.  In my neighborhood of San Telmo in Buenos Aires there was a full size statue of Mafalda, a famous cartoon character, sitting on a bench.  Every evening and all day on Saturdays and Sundays, people stood in line to take their picture sitting on the bench next to her.

At the summit on our drive to La Gran Salida, they stood in line to take their picture next to the altitude sign.  I even stood in line with them, something I rarely do voluntarily, but I was going to have to stand around waiting anyway for everyone to take a picture, so … 

But at La Salinas Grandes, there were six platforms, apparently with photographers on each, and people stood in lines at each of them to pose and take a picture.  Why?  The salt flat was huge.  They were all taking pictures of themselves with their cell phones.  Jumping over the swimming pools was very popular with the photographer catching you in midair.  Why would you wait in line to have someone take a picture of you that you could take anytime ten feet away with the same view.  There are just some things that I never understand.

Hard to see but these are lines of people to take pictures in a wide open space

Another apparently cultural thing:  the Argentinos applaud when their plane lands, something I have not experienced since flying to Israel in the 1970’s.  They also applaud politely when the tour guide introduces himself, again when he introduces the driver, and again at the end of each tour separately for the guide and driver.

I have met some interesting people, Argentine and otherwise, on my various excursions. On the Humahuaca bus I sat next to a very nice young Frenchman who was on his way to Bolivia to climb mountains.  He had all his things with him and a bus ticket for 2:30 AM that night but ended up staying in Humahuaca to try his luck at the bus terminal there because he didn’t believe he would make it back in time to catch his bus.  After our seven hours of delays, he was probably right.

The next day I sat next to a very nice young Argentine man who was on vacation from Buenos Aires.  As we drove through the beautiful Quebrada, he told me it reminded him of the Grand Canyon.  He took out his phone and showed me a picture of himself there.  I still say it reminds me more of Utah, but I can’t argue with him.  I had told him that I could understand him if he spoke a little slower.  The usual conversational speech of most Argentinos is a little too fast for me to decipher.  He obligingly slowed his speech waaay down.  Where… are…you… from?  But it worked.  We conversed at length.

Sports turns out to be an instant identifier for people you meet when traveling.  I talked to a couple around my age who were vacationing in Salta.  I asked where they were from and they said, Rosario, about 300 north of Buenos Aires.  I know, I said, it is where Messi is from.  (I had been listening to a podcast in Spanish about Messi while walking to and from school or I would never had known where he was from.)  When I was talking to the young Frenchman, he asked where I was from.  California, I said.  Los Angeles, San Francisco? he asked.  Sacramento, I said, it’s near San Francisco.  I know, he said, I am a fan of the NBA.

One day during my month in Buenos Aires, I was sitting in my local park in San Telmo reading on my kindle when a man sitting near me asked me the time.  I told him.  He then said, it sounds like you have an American accent and started talking to me in English.  He asked what I was reading, and then asked if I had read William Faulkner.  Not my favorite, I replied, although by coincidence I had recently reread As I Lay Dying.  He then proceeded to lecture me on how great Faulkner is and what an influence he was on other writers.  Have you read One Hundred Years of Solitude, he asked.  Twice, I replied.  Well, he said, Faulkner had a big influence on Gabriel Garcia Marquez.  Then he discussed sections of As I Lay Dying in detail, and somehow he moved on to Italian history which he lectured me on as well.  The man appeared to be older than me and was rather shabbily dressed.  I would have believed that he was one of the beggars in the park. But when I asked him how he spoke English so well, it turns out he is an artist and had a gallery in New York for years.  He couldn’t describe his art, so he gave me his name and told me to Google him.  I did and quickly found and read a New York Times article about him.

My walking tour in Salta was disappointing, but I ended up talking in English to a woman from Russia who lives in Germany.  She has a PhD in some esoteric subject connected to social philosophy.  What is that? I asked.  Have you read Hannah Arendt? she asked.  By coincidence, I had recently reread one and a half of her books.   She seems a bit dated to me, I said.  Of course, she replied, she was writing about a specific type of totalitarianism in the 1930’s.  We then proceeded to have a long discussion about the banality of evil and how “ordinary” people can do such horrible things.

I do meet such interesting people when I travel and somehow, I rarely have conversations with strangers about Faulkner or Hannah Arendt in Sacramento.

Bariloche

Bariloche is a small city on the shore of Nahuel Huapi Lake, and is the jump-off point for visiting the dozens of lakes and mountains in the lake district which is the northern part of Patagonia.  In the winter this is a big ski area.  I arrived early enough on Tuesday to take a tour that I was interested in but that is only given three times a week:  the German footprint tour and Nazi presence.  In two months of touring in Argentina - and I have taken a lot of tours - the only guide to ever mention the Nazis was Rabbi Ernesto on my second day in Argentina, and he focused on the kidnapping of Eichmann.  I have heard a lot about what a great populist Juan Peron was, how much he did for the poor and working class.  But he was president from 1946 to 1955, the period during which Argentina took in many high-profile Nazis, and no one has said a word about Peron’s role.

As it happens, the Bariloche area is the center of a German community in Argentina that arrived in three waves:  disappointed revolutionaries in the mid-19th century, disappointed or displaced people in the interwar years, and refugees after World War II.  According to the guide, fifteen million Germans left in the mid-19th century with thirteen million going to the United States.  The next biggest group - several hundred thousand - came to Argentina which welcomed immigration at that time, and while some stayed in Buenos Aires, many came to the Bariloche region because it is so similar to Bavaria.  Here they established hiking and ski clubs.

There were two ways that Nazis came to Argentina after World War II according to the guide:  the scientific route and the “ratline.”  Peron did welcome several scientists who he hoped would bring nuclear and other technology to the country.  The “ratline” involved false identities and sponsorship by the Vatican.  The guide was not willing to put any blame or even tacit acceptance on Peron.  False papers equals deniability.  But, I said, everyone knew the Nazis were here.  Why were they so accepted?  He said other countries did the same thing including Brazil, Paraguay, Canada, and the US.  Not an answer.  He was quick to assign blame to the Vatican, maybe even the pope, and to draw comparisons to other countries.  He had already discussed the huge 1938 rally in Buenos Aires by over 12,000 Nazi supporters celebrating the Anschluss, and quickly pointed out that it was not the largest such rally in the Americas.  A rally later that year in Madison Square Garden was attended by more than 20,000.  Also, as specific as he was with the number of German immigrants in the 19th century, when I asked if Argentina took in Jewish refugees before and after the war, he said, of course, but was very vague on numbers.  Now I am curious about why so many Nazis came here and how welcoming Argentina was to the Jews.

For the next three days, I took excursions to see the various lakes and mountains.  The first day was the Short Circuit to the nearby mountains.  We took a chair lift to the top of Cerro Companario, and in the afternoon, a gondola and then a chair lift to the top of Cero Cathedral, one of the tallest mountains.  This is the view from the top. The next day we took the route of seven lakes to see …  well, the name is pretty descriptive.  And the third day, a boat ride across the lake to Puerto Blest to see a waterfall.  You could continue from there to cross the Andes to Chile but I returned to Bariloche.

Absolutely beautiful country again, and so different from either southern Patagonia or the Salta area.

I returned to Buenos Aires for my last few days.  When I was here on the night of Carnaval, there was a huge line in front of my hotel.  I tracked it to the end, thinking it was a theater or nightclub, but it went to a pizza place.  Now it was an ordinary Saturday and the line was just as long.  I looked it up online and discovered that this pizza place is reputed to have THE BEST pizza in Buenos Aires.  I’m not willing to stand in line for pizza, so I went there on Sunday for lunch.  Not bad but I’m not sure it was that much better than other pizzas I have had here.

After lunch I went to the Holocaust Museum to get answers to my unanswered questions from Bariloche.  The Holocaust Museum in Buenos Aires is the only holocaust museum in South America.  It turns out that Argentina, which had been very open to immigration in earlier years, passed a law in 1938 refusing immigration to anyone who was stateless and/or had been evicted from their own country.  In other words, Argentina refused to take in refugees of conquest or displacement by the Nazis.  Without using the word “Jewish,” Argentina closed the door to Jews.  During the war, Argentina was neutral until 1944 when they joined the Allies.  After the war, Argentina again refused to take in refugees.  Nonetheless, over 5,000 Jews arrived, most illegally.  In 1949 Argentina granted amnesty to anyone who had arrived illegally.  At first I thought that meant the Nazis, but I realized that they had come with false papers so is that legal or illegal?  Eichman had a pass of safe conduct from the Red Cross.  Now I can understand why the guide in Bariloche was vague to the point of misleading, and I still don’t have an answer to one (well, two) questions:  what did Peron know and why was Argentina so welcoming to fleeing Nazis?

I have been thinking about my son-in-law, Joe, who loves trains and all forms of transportation.  In two months in Argentina I have been on:

• innumerable subways and city buses

• many tour buses

• a train to and from Tigre

• a cruise ship with multiple zodiac excursions

• a ferry to Colonia, Uruguay

• four more boat rides

• two horseback rides

• one gondola and two chair lifts

Except for taxis, I have not been in a car.  I have now had the best pizza in Buenos Aires and can’t think of any more modes of transportation, so I guess it is time to come home.

If it's Jujuy it must be Utah

I am staying in Salta for five nights to visit the scenery in the Jujuy (pronounced hoo-hooey) province.  Fortunately, Salta is centrally located; unfortunately the distances are quite long, so our daily trips are scheduled to start before 7 in the morning and end after 8 at night.  All of the tours are in Spanish with primarily Argentine tourists.  In general, I can understand about half of what I can hear.

My first trip - to Cachi - was underwhelming.  The highlight was a twenty mile switchback climb over Cuesta del Obispo (the Archbishop’s Slope).  It was one of those amazing feats of engineering with a great view at the top.  Then we descended into the Valle Encantado (Enchanted Valley) where the guide told us we were going to see the biggest cardones in the world.  Since I didn’t know what a cardon was, I had no idea what we were going to see.  But I soon figured it out.

On my second trip the scenery went from good to spectacular.  The Quebrada de los Conchas are red rock mountains with straight up cliffs.  They are so named for the fossils of seashells (conchas) that can be found in them.  It felt like I was in Zion National Park.  And our lunch and shopping stop in Cafayate was much nicer than in Cachi the day before. In Argentina, the national stone is rose quartz and I might have bought a few necklaces. In the Quebradas, the stone is onyx in different colors ... and I might have bought a few.

I was expecting the third day to be the highlight as we were going to Humahuaca to see the famous Quebrada de Humahuaca, a narrow mountain valley with dramatic and colorful mountain formations.   The day did not begin auspiciously.  I was scheduled to be picked up between 5:30 and 6:00 so I dutifully got up at 5:15.  Ugh.  The bus finally arrived at 7:00.  I was not happy.  I could have slept another hour.  Then, after driving for just over an hour, the bus broke down.  We limped into a gas station/mini-mart, where they told us we would wait for an hour or so for another bus.  One hour went by, two hours.  Did I say I was not happy this morning when we were only an hour late?  And I’m the only one who seems to be upset.  I went outside and told our guide we were never going to get to Humahuaca.  Of course we will, he said.  An Argentine woman told me you have to stay positive.  She shrugged her shoulders:  it was a mechanical problem.  What can you do? The bus finally arrived after nearly three hours and we set out for Humahuaca just after noon.  Four hours late.  Seriously?  I figured we would have to turn around sooner than later.

But I calmed down when the spectacular scenery I was expecting began.  The colors of the Quebrada mountains are just amazing. This was one of the views from the window of the bus. The mountains did not seem to be bare rock but looked like they had scattered trees on them. When we got closer, I saw it was the cardones (elephant cactus) that I had seen earlier dotting the hills. Such an unusual landscape.

The tour company had warned us that it was Carnaval this weekend in Jujuy province and we were not making the usual two hour lunch and shopping stop so I thought we might make up some time.  Nope.  They just meant we were going to a different town for our two hour lunch and shopping stop. We went to Purmamarca, a delightful market town full of colorful shops and stalls.  Yes, it is all for the tourists, but I liked it nonetheless.  Did we shorten our stop?  No.  We left Pumamarca at 4:00 and hit stop-and-go bumper-to-bumper traffic from all the people driving to Humahuaca for Carnaval.  I couldn’t believe that we continued to drive north.  At 4:40 I saw a road sign that said 48 kilometers to Humahuaca.  But we were barely moving.  At 5:40 the next sign said 42 kilometers.  Then we came to a complete stop as the road through Tilcara was blocked by a Carnaval parade.  We stopped again in Uquia for another Carnaval event.  Then we stopped for a photo op at the marker for the Tropic of Capricorn.  (Really? We can't skip anything?) At 7:20 I saw another sign that said 11 kilometers to Humahuaca.  We finally arrived around 8:00.

We walked around Humahuaca for a while where Carnaval was in full swing.  The town was rocking.  People paint their faces and wear devil masks and costumes.  There was lots of live and recorded music blaring everywhere and periodic parades.  People also walk around with aerosol cans of something like silly string but it is white confetti.  They spray that and white powder on everyone they walk by. Uncostumed peple paint their faces.

Our guide took us to a restaurant and asked if we wanted to take our food to go on the bus or eat there.  The Argentinos unanimously wanted to stay there and eat.  So we stayed in Humahuaca until after 10.  Since service in restaurants is beyond slow, I had more time to walk around and experience Carnaval.  Typically, the ride to Salta from Humahuaca is three hours. We left Humahuaca around 10 but with the delays of Carnaval …  I was dropped off at my hotel just before 3 AM. My phone and hearing aids had died but fortunately my Kindle had enough charge for the day (and night).

I thought about blowing off my last tour to Grandes Salinas (Big Salt Flats) but, hey, I can sleep when I’m back home.  I was scheduled to be picked up between 6:30 and 7:00, I dutifully got up at 6:00 after three hours sleep, and the bus arrived at … 8:00.  I’m getting the hang of Argentina.  I really did not know where Grandes Salinas was; I thought it was south in the direction of my first two tours, but we went back on the road to the north through the amazing Quebrada.  Well worth the drive.  Also, the colors were more vibrant earlier in the day. This time we drove on another amazing switchback road over a 13,000 mountain.  The views just keep getting better.

I’ve seen other salt flats and mines, and was not expecting much, but it really was fascinating. It was huge!  In one section they let cars drive.  In the main section, people walk around and look at the “swimming pools.”  They cut long narrow holes in the salt to collect rainwater, and then harvest the salt when the water evaporates. The salt flats stretch for miles and look like a giant ice skating rink, but obviously, the surface is solid and tastes like salt. Duh!

After Grandes Salinas, we went back to Purmamarca, the market town I had been to the day before, and the site of the Cerro de Siete Colores (the Hill of Seven Colors).  Since I had already explored the markets and bought more than I should, I found a small, quiet parilla and had one of the best meals I have had in Argentina.  A parilla is a grill, and an authentic parilla is over an open wood burning pit.  This was an authentic parilla.  Also, Carnaval was going on in Purmamarca that day, so I got to see the dancing devils and get sprayed with white powder again.

Traveling with just Argentinos was an interesting experience.  If there had been other Americans on the bus, we would have complained to each other and worked ourselves up over the terrible service.  But no one was upset at the delays or concerned about arriving home six hours late in the middle of the night.  On the plus side, if the bus had not broken down, we would have left  Humahuaca long before dark and I would not have had the chance to see the Carnaval celebrations.  I finally understand how the Argentinos can eat dinner at 9 or 10 at night.  First, they cannot tell the difference between on time and four hours late.  Second, they really mean it when they say “tranquilo” to everything. (Tranquilo means roughly: relax, chill, no worries, hakuna matata.)  And third, they can fall asleep anytime, anywhere.  They all got their sleep on the drive up and the drive back. Outside of Buenos Aires, a lot of shops do close for a couple of hours at midday.

Back in Salta … on my last day I had until 4 before I had to go to the airport to return to Buenos Aires.  Amazingly, there is a free walking tour of Salta every morning, so I signed up.  But there wasn’t much to see because it was … Carnaval … and February 20 … and a Monday.  A triple reason for everything to be closed.  February 20?  It turns out that the famous Battle of Salta in the Argentine war of independence was won by General Belgrano on February 20, 1813. Who knew? So after taking us to one old building, the guide took us to the Gaucho parade that celebrates this historic military victory.  Lots of people dressed us in gaucho clothes and riding horses.  Interestingly, there were several women riding side saddle.

My transport to the airport was scheduled for 4:10 and he came around 4:45.  Tranquilo.  I finally got back to my hotel in Buenos Aires at 10 at night where the streets are packed because … it is Carnaval.  A great time to be in Argentina.  Next I am off to Bariloche, the gateway to the northern part of Patagonia.  It is full of lakes and mountains which I will see on long bus tours.  I wonder how long a 12 hour tour takes in Bariloche.

Patagonia: more beautiful scenery

Two Horns Mountain

Our cruise ended in Punta Arenas and we had a long drive to the national park of Torre del Paine.  Think Montana - rugged mountains and blue-green lakes.

Mirror lake of a glacier

We stayed for two nights at the lodge in the park, and explored on horseback the second day.

The next day we had a six hour drive to El Calafate and the reason that I chose this particular tour.  I wanted to see the Perito Moreno Glacier, which is supposed to be one of the biggest and most spectacular of all the glaciers.  And it is.  

Unlike the stunning scenery at Torre del Paine on the Chilean side of Patagonia, the drive to El Calafate is mostly through bare scrubland.  We stopped on the way at sheep estancia (ranch) where we were served lamb asada and given a demonstration of the sheep dogs and shearing.

After a night in El Calafate, we drove to the Perito Moreno Glacier.  Words cannot do this one justice.  It is HUGE.  It stretches more than fifteen miles from the ice fields to the lake in front of it.  We observed it from the opposite shore.

Unlike the slow moving glaciers in Antarctica, Perito Moreno grows up to six feet per day.  It is up to 200 feet tall.  We watched it calve many times and it seemed like small pieces falling into the lake, our guide said the chunks were the size of a house.  Also, like thunder and lightning, you have to be looking at it when it calves because the sound reaches you two seconds later.  By the time you hear the loud crash and turn your head, it is too late.

A few last photos of beautiful scenery:

Patagonia: It's all about the scenery

The first day of my Patagonia trip was actually a day touring Buenos Aires.  A bit of a redo for me but we did have two interesting meetings with local people.  Before lunch, we met with Manuel who discussed the desaparacidos.  The military junta that ruled from 1976 to 1983 brutally kidnapped and murdered over 30,000 Argentinos, many of them young college students.  The government did not acknowledge arresting these people but said they seemed to have disappeared.  Maybe they went into the jungle to smoke pot?  So they are called the desaparacidos - the disappeared ones.  Manuel’s mother was disappeared when he was fifteen days old.  He shared his experience of being raised by his grandparents and later his father who had gone into hiding at first to avoid being disappeared himself. In the evening we had dinner at the homes of local families.

Then on Friday, we flew to Ushuaia, the end of the world.  The tip of South America is over a thousand miles farther south than Australia or Africa, so this is the southernmost city in the world.  It is absolutely beautiful with the Andes mountains rising practically straight up from the sea.  Again we had dinner with a local family.  The town is built going up the mountain, so the view was incredible from their house.  Our guide, Barbara, and our host, Gabby, are friends and each has two daughters.  The four girls are avid ice skaters, rising before 4 in the winter to train at the outdoor rink here.  I would say that there is not a lot to do in Ushuaia in the winter.

Little known geographical fact:  the Andes run north-south through South America, but at the tip, they take a sharp left turn and run east-west through Patagonia.  Then they continue under the Atlantic, and the tips of the taller mountains are the South Atlantic Islands.  And apparently, Antarctica, as well, is a continuation of the Andes.  Second little known geographical fact:  the southern tip of the mainland of South America is Cape Froward.  Below that, the Strait of Magellan connects the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, and separates the mainland from the hundreds of islands to the south.  This region is called Tierra del Fuego, and it stretches to the south and east with many channels between the islands.

I visited two museums in Ushuaia - the local history museum and the End of the World Museum.  The history museum is located in a building that used to be a prison.  In the late nineteenth century, Argentina had the brilliant idea for populating southern Patagonia:  copy Australia.  So they sent ten skilled prisoners to Ushuaia to build the prison and then more prisoners to inhabit it.

We had one more personal “testimony” before lunch from Osvaldo.  By 1982 the military junta was increasingly unpopular, so they decided to send an expedition to the Malvinas Islands to reclaim them from the British who had taken them over in the 19th Century.  The British call the Malvinas the Falkland Islands but that name is the F-word here.  Somehow, the junta never expected that the British to fight back, so they sent untrained drafted 18 year olds with barely any weapons to reclaim (invade?) the islands.  Surprise, surprise.  Margaret Thatcher was also unpopular, so rallying the troops to fight a war was a great idea to her.  

Osvaldo was one of those 18 year olds.  They sent these boys to the Malvinas with one change of clothes and no winter uniforms although the war took place in the late fall.  Also, Argentina was unable to resupply them so the boys ended up with no food to eat.  Things did not work out well for Argentina in the war, but the defeat did bring down the brutal military government.  Argentina is proudly celebrating 40 years of democracy this year.

And finally, in the evening, we boarded our ship and set sail for Cape Horn.  We were warned before we started that we could only land on Cape Horn weather permitting so not to get our hopes up as the weather is frequently uncooperative.  It turns out that Cape Horn is on the southernmost island in Tierra del Fuego, but you have to cross rough ocean water to get to it.  So we gathered in the lounge at 6:45 AM, awaiting word from the crew as to whether the conditions were favorable for landing.  I can honestly say that I did not get my hopes up and was not the least bit crushed when the captain determined that landing was not possible that day.  Oh darn.  I didn’t have to go out into the cold and wind on a zodiac to reach an island and climb a hill, just to say that I was there.  It is hardly a scenic place.  The weather continued to worsen as we sailed back across the channel to the more protected parts of Tierra del Fuego.  The captain cancelled the scheduled bridge tour and sent us all to our rooms with no lunch.  Eventually, we reached calmer waters and lunch was served.

In the afternoon we successfully landed at Wulaia Bay nearly one hundred years after Charles Darwin and the Beagle sailed here.  A lot in Tierra del Fuego is named after Darwin and our guide happily (and mistakenly) informed us that Darwin had invented scientific method and the cataloguing of animals.  He also informed us that Darwin (Columbus?) did not call the local people natives but indigenous because he thought they were in India.  Our guide was very entertaining, but I took everything he said with a large grain of salt.  We had a very pleasant hike up the mountain for a few of the surrounding area.

On the second day of the cruise, the scenery went from nice to spectacular.  Our morning excursion was to the Pia Glacier where we hiked along the side of it, seeing it from different perspectives as we climbed.  Then in the afternoon we went back in the zodiaks to the base of the glacier and got to see it calve.  Just amazing.

The next day we hiked along the beach to the base of Aguila Glacier.  We are in the middle of the Darwin Glacier field.  Between the mountains and the glaciers, the scenery is incredible.  And we are so remote that there is not a single person or settlement on land.  In fact, not many animals either, just some birds, as few animals can live here. Some more incredible pictures of the landscape we have seen:

And finally, on the last morning of the cruise, we stopped at Magdalena Island to see the Magellan penguins. Then we departed the ship for the second week of our Patagonia tour.