L´Chaim!

I am at my favorite internet cafe in San Telmo, eschewing the stuffy computer room at my current hostel for a bright lights, big city kind of blogging experience. The past 10 days or so have been filled with a glorious end to my vibrant month on the jungle farm. A caravan of Kimberly and Marcelo´s friends showed up unexpectedly on Thursday, the day we had planned to have a party to celebrate the end of this month´s internship and my departure. Suddenly, we had a crowd including two young kids and a baby! It was awesome. We uncorked our fresh lemoncello, made sangria with jungle fruit, made naan and chapatis, turned our fresh ricotta into a delicious herby dip, and their friends made a bonfire and slowly barbecued ribs, steak and chorizo all evening. We had a dance party, Marcos came from up the road a few kilometers, and a lively time was had by all. Soledad, the mother of baby Estrella Azul, who is also a psychologist and a spiritual healer, informed me that she can ¨see¨my babies on my shoulders. Interesting, eh?? I went to bed before further party hijinx ensued and slept a delightful 10 hours. The next day it was POURING and everyone was stressed because we had done laundry the day before and nothing was dry, so there were no clean dry clothes for our trip to Puerto Iguazu. In spite of this moaning and groaning, the five of us ladies plus Kimberly embarked on a ladies spa day where we scrambled up to the waterfall, covered ourselves in medicinal mud, engaged in a hilarious photoshoot and giggled like little girls. It was awesome. We came back and their friends had decided to build a sauna. BUILD A SAUNA. Yep, just like that. Apparently they engage in regular sweating as part of a spiritual cleansing process. The sauna was up and working in about 6 hours! They built it out of wood and plastic (eck), covering the mud floor with thick grasses and ginger flowers. Outside they built a huge fire over a number of big stones. When the stones were sufficiently hot, they moved them inside. Each episode of sweating lasted 20 minutes. Alvaro would use boughs of rosemary, eucalyptus and ginger flower to sprinkle water on the stones and on the sweaters inside. All in all, a great last day at mama roja. I felt sad and excited to say goodbye to Kim and Marcelo, the kitties and dogs and green glowing beetles. K and M become friends and caretakers so quickly. Kim gave me a very sweet going away present of balms she had made in a beautiful pouch and a letter. I am going to work on getting CJ to go back with me one of these days...

We still had many hours to kill in town before our bus to the corner of the country, at Puerto Iguazu. So we spent them alternately in the gas station cafe and the casino, the two places that are open 24 hours in this tiny town. Oh casino, you suck royally. However, we did end up bowling for a while, which was a great way to pass the time. Our bus to Iguazu showed at 4am and we slept our way there. When I woke up at 9am i was COVERED with new bug bites. My left foot was quite swollen and it was a challenge to bend my right leg at the knee. (Of course today i met a cab driver who told me that Chagas disease is endemic to the Misiones area and so I should be careful building with mud and adobe. Now I probably have Chagas disease. Shit.) Choosing to ignore the incredible grossness that is sleeping on a filthy, bug infested bus, we set out in the heat of the morning to find a hostel. I will not say too much about our time at Puerto Iguazu, save for these two highlights:
1. Have you ever gone out with a 19 year old girl from the USA who doesn´t get to go clubbing at home?? Let me tell you, it´s an experience. Stamina like I do not have. On the first night, Hannah and I crashed around 2am, to be woken at 5am and 7am when our dear friends returned from a seriously debauched night. Undergarments and shoes were lost. Everyone was ok. I felt like a mother hen.
2. Iguazu Falls is an incredible sight. I have never been too impressed by waterfalls, but these babies are so much more than waterfalls. The sound! The feel! The rainbows! The mist! The monkeys! The coatis! It was much cooler than I expected.

I am so excited to head for home tomorrow!!!
lovelovelove you all.

Let´s talk about nature. Gorgeous, bizarre, noisy, vibrant nature. I haven´t been inside, really inside, for a month! Besides this delightful internet cafe, that is. I am always exposed to the elements, interacting with insects, feeling the rain and the humidity, the sun and the moonlight. It´s interesting to think about how we are so secluded from these powerful forces, creating our own days, nights and climates in our houses, cars, buses and offices. This past week all 5 of us have felt tired, really experiencing the pull not only of hard physical work, but also that of the rapid, almost manic changes in temperature and weather that the sub-tropics are known for. I feel very healthy but sort of out of whack. I look forward to hearing from my compatriots how they change and feel over the next two months. I am the only one leaving after just one month! A part of me would love to stay, in fact I planned on calling Cj this morning and letting him know that Kim and Marcelo have invited him to come and recommend that he just pop down here for March and live in the tent with me. But it´s a bit fantastical of a suggestion, I know. And as much as part of me would love to stay, a bigger part wants to go home and be me, this less anxious, more open, less frightened me with all of the people I love so much. PLUS Harper looks so much older, Julia has gone from wanting to be a ballerina to a scientist, Josie laughs and sits up and has teeth, Mary, Stephanie, Sharon, Annie, and Katie are all having babies, and Seattle is moving closer and closer to spring! Things change quickly. This comes to me everytime we plant seeds and in this intense climate, they sprout three days later. I can´t wait to go home and start seed beds in the basement! I have decided to start saving seeds as well and would love to do seed exchanges with any interested folks. I refuse to let Monsanto own all of the seeds in the world.






Making mortar to cover the bricks on our bathroom. The first time we did this we were all barefoot, gleefully stomping in the mud. However, I did not realize that the almost orgasmic feeling of the mud and sand and pine needles scratching my 27 bug bites would lead to oozing pain only moments later. Now we stomp with boots:








The bathroom is coming along! Check out the sweet brick arches in the back. This picture is a bit old, the wall is now twice as high and we will hopefully be laying the floor tomorrow. These two chambers are the composting chambers. We will build stairs out of earthbags around the side, and you will climb up to the height of my shoulders and walk into the room which will have a wood floor. These chambers will be underneath, 1-3 full of sawdust and leaves. Poop goes in till it´s full, closed off at the top and allowed to compost for a year while the other side is used. And so forth. Genius!! Plus there will be beautiful glass bottle designs and views into the forest from the pooper. I love beautiful bathrooms. The picture below is one of our dry composting toilets that we currently use. I am standing in the open doorway with jungle behind me. The walls are painted with natural paints and tiles are inlaid in the mud floor. The roof is green, hence the unearthly glow.

However. This tarantula lives in the bathroom. And just last night, Maggie informed us that there are now three tarantulas living in the bathroom. They slink into their little hidey-holes during the day and come out at night. Apparently they are harmless, but have been promoting constipation among the ranks.

A trip to the river with Marcos, and a picture of tobacco drying in his family´s barn.

As a continued tribute, below is Nestor, the late rooster. That´s Hannah holding him after we fed him whiskey. The second shot is plucking. I left the killing off the blog.



I couldn´t believe this butterfly. It´s not even the most patterned or complex, but it looks like Julia took him and spread green glitter glue all over his back and wings. So many beautiful creatures.

And this spider looked like Tim Burton´s inspiration...the photo does not do her justice.

Four more days on the farm and then the five of us are going to stay up all night bowling at the casino in Obéra before getting on a 3am bus to Iguazu Falls (enormous waterfalls - one of the new wonders of the world!) on the border with Brazil. We will spend three days there and then I will bid them adieu and head back to Buenos Aires on my final 20 hour bus ride.

And then, Seattle!

lovelovelove.

I cannot make this picture go away. I don´t know why. It´s just going to sit here, sideways.

A Tribute to Nestor

Nestor is the rooster we slaughtered yesterday morning. (Warning: some may not want to read this first section). A bit about his life first: Nestor was born at Mama Roja farm and attacked by another animal when he was very young, leaving him blind in one eye and particularly aggressive towards the other chickens. He was nursed and tenderly cared for by Kimberly but because of his aggression, had been kept in a cage, separate from the other chickens. Thus, Nestor was picked out of the 23 chickens and 4 roosters to go. We fasted him all day Wednesday, and got him drunk on cheap whiskey Thursday morning. Hannah was quick with the knife while Marcelo held him down against the board. He flapped terribly, but reportedly much less than when chickens are hung up to have their neck slit without being held. I was glad Hannah was interested in actually doing the cut, as I was afraid I would be timid and then hurt him more, since I have never seen or participated in the slaughter of an animal before, though I eat meat regularly. She appeared very fast and decisive but later showed me her raw, bloody finger from where the knife handle cut her skin from pressing down so hard, worried as she was for the same reason. I assisted in the immediate postmortem plucking, which is easy to do while their body is still warm. Some folks will immerse the chicken in hot water but this must smell terrible because they have a really foul, odor-producing glad on their tail. The dogs and cats circled with excitement, smelling fresh blood. Afterwards, Marcelo showed us how to clean out the body and identified all the organs. It was interesting to note the vibrant yellow of Nestor´s fat, reflecting his super healthy diet...it also made me think about the pale, greasy fat of the chicken I buy in the store...even organic chickens. The air felt heavy all the while as we contemplated what we were doing, recognizing the change in energy as well. It felt clinically interesting and simultaneously like a violation to be seeing all of these things inside his body even though the process of caring for and killing him felt particularly respectful. My lesson is still brewing.

I ate chicken liver and hardboiled eggs for lunch, ala Emily Holt, and was transported back to being 10 years old. Hannah, Maggie and Kim all tried it and declared it tasty. We made chicken soup for dinner, saved feathers for decoration and fed the dogs the innards after cleaning them well. We gave many thanks to Nestor yesterday.

I do not have a picture of Nestor yet, so I will share with you, Hubert, the kitchen toad:

That being said, our long-drop toilet is coming along well, we have almost finished the walls, which is SUPER exciting! I am hoping to get to see the completion of the main part of the structure before I leave next week. NEXT WEEK.

Endlessly sifting subsoil to make mortar:


Below is a picture of the earth bag base before we started building the brick walls:


Sasha, a new intern, came this week, after having to get her tonsils out and being waylaid a few weeks. We have been getting to know each other in new configurations and spending more time with Marcos, the Misiones local who is interning as well. Yesterday he took us to his family´s home where they grow maté and tobacco. He showed us how they dry tobacco and we met his ancient abuelo. His mother came out and looked at us in wonder, then said ¨Marcos, tenés TANTO compañeras!¨which means, ¨Marcos, you have so many female companions!!¨ He chuckled (he´s about 19, has never been out of the Misiones province, and already thinks the five of us are about as nutty as they come), then took us to the river where we danced and splashed and all tried to speak Spanish. In the afternoon we gathered eucalyptus leaves to add to the infusion we are currently making for a new insect repellant that has citronella, pennyroyal and eucalyptus. All of these things are so simple when you have access to the bounty of the jungle!

It´s so humid today, the internet cafe is a welcome respite from the feeling of sweat dripping down the backs of my legs. We are, however, going to go explore a local bird sanctuary and reptile center to learn about the fauna in the area. This week Kim saw a 2-meter long snake on the path to the waterfall, which definitely piqued my interest in learning who we´ve got in this area and how they behave. There is a bat that lives near my tent and my wolf-spider still crawls up under the rainfly to catch trapped moths at night. Luckily he has been staying OUTSIDE the tent, so we coexist peacefully. Once of the most bizarrely beautiful things I have seen happens when you shine a light (usually cj´s headlamp) onto the grass at night and you see dozens of glittering blue gems that, on closer inspection, reveal themselves to be the eyes of spiders! It´s really lovely. Hannah stumbled across one that had way more sparkles than usual and realized that it´s back was completely covered with babies! Little sparkly-eyed spider babies.

This is the town of Obéra, where I sit typing:

Most farm days are still full of building, planting seeds in the garden, reading, swimming, cooking, chatting, and swinging in the hammock. This week we made lemoncello (italian lemon liquor), banana bread, olive and sundried tomato bread, and many, many terérés. Teréré is the maté drink of Northern Argentina and Paraguay, and it´s COLD. Oh yumyumyum. Instead of just pouring water over it, we pour fresh squeezed orange juice. It´s awesome.

All photo credit goes to Hannah, who diligently uploads her pictures to her laptop and allows me to borrow them for this blog, as my camera still refuses to play nice with Argentinian computers. Thank you, Hannah. More pictures to come!

I love you guys.

A rumble from the jungle

The jungle is so outstandingly alive.

I am not used to coexisting so close to so many different visible forms of life. It´s becoming increasingly amazing, now that i am less afraid of snakes and spiders and burrowing bugs. Last night as I went through my bedtime routine of shaking off the tarp that covers my tent by the light of cj´s headlamp, quickly undoing my sandals, unzipping the tent partway and diving into the safety of a bug free sleeping area, I accidently allowed a ginormous wolf spider in with me. I turned around to put on my jammies and saw him hanging out on my sleeping pad. Instead of screaming and creating a world of trouble for both of us, I just unzipped, thrust the sleeping pad out the door, and he crawled off into the night, thankyouverymuch. Those of you who have experienced my relationship with insects will appreciate the growth indicated by this interaction.


That being said, the bites on my body are out of control. I have learned to love plantain balm (not the banana kind of plantain but a green plant that grows down here and is very soothing on stings and bites) and to stop scratching.

It feels overwhelming to post because so much happens every day on the farm. This week we have begun building our long drop dry composting toilet. We spent a day digging soil to fill polypropylene bags, which we then laid out and tamped down to create a very solid foundation. We then spent many hours sifting soil (wet and claylike because of all the humidity), then mixing with sand and dried needles to create a mortar. Using leftover adobe bricks (unbaked, just sundried), we built the wall that will separate the two lower composting chambers of the toilet. Then it started raining. Next week we keep building up! Stairs and pooping seats (and pictures), here we come!!

I found a tiny egg the other day. Thank you, chickens.

In addition to the learning and the working we have been resting and creating...teaching each other songs, sharing interesting books, climbing waterfalls, naked bathing in the river and mushroom hunting.


I have fallen in love with a kitten named Conan who is a sweetheart but becomes rabid when hunting butterflies and mice. Can you imagine him with a blood-smeared face??


To the left is our neiThis sweet beast is Lulu. The eternal puppy.



I still haven´t seen an armadillo. I do not appear to have any botfly larva.

Rainy day from the Mama Roja kitchen

Maggie, Hannah and Kayla. While I napped in the hammock, they wove hats out of long grass. Such lovely women:

Fence building

It is certainly being an eye-opening adventure. In addition to flowers, medicinal plants, insects and animals, my eyes have been opened to the delights of things like mushrooms:





And, synergistically, the day after these photos were taken I spoke with CJ who informed me he had just gone mushroom hunting with a group of friends. I love these quasi-coincidences...we are planning to take a mushroom class when I get home. Then I will have to ask some of my former workmates to take me foraging with them!!

Town days are sweet in their own way, I finally got to talk with mom and skyped with Cj, which is always hilarious and loving and makes me miss him and home while appreciating this time even more.

Till next time!

¡Mama Rojaaaaaaaaaa!

Mama Roja.


Paradise.


Eden.

Heaven on earth.



Whatever you call it, here life is so simple and so beautiful, i am in love. In love with Mama Roja. All my fears were for naught, I never could have anticipated how much I would enjoy this lifestyle. Three of the interns canceled so it is a small group of lovely, intelligent north american women, four of us in all plus an Argentinian guy who is becoming a park ranger and will be working with us to build a long drop dry composting toilet next week. Plus Marcelo and Kimberly, Mama Roja´s keepers. They are vibrant, passionate, and hilarious. We also share the farm with a mama kitty and one of her kittens, Amacita and Conan, and two dogs, Lulu and Rambo (who has no teeth and thus leaves his tongue hanging out all day). There are 23 chickens and a few roosters, thousands of butterflies the size and beauty of which i have NEVER seen before, dragonflies in green, blue and red, birds, ducks, armadillos (yet to be seen by my eyes), and some of the most insane insects I have ever been near. But very few mosquitos!!!



Lessons:

1. Poop is amazing. The bathroom is this beautiful adobe structure with recycled glass bottle inserts and open air on top and side. The floor has beautiful tile mosaics. The toilet is a 5 gallon bucket (ala Christian camping trips), that you put a bit of sawdust in. The bag of sawdust lives next to the toilet. You do your pooping and peeing, cover with sawdust. There is ZERO smell in the bathroom and no flies. It´s incredible. When the bucket is full, you take it out, cover it and walk it over to the HUMANURE compost pile. There are two bins. One is active, where you dig a hole in the middle with a shovel (steam pours out), open the bucket and dump in the hole. Then you cover with dry matter like leaves. Once again, no smell. The second bin looked to be about 1-3 full of gorgeous, rich compost. They let the active bin sit for a minimum of 6 months after it is full of poo and dry matter in order to go through the three stages of composting. Kimberly says they actually let theirs cure for 1 year. Then they use it to fertilize their amazing gardens. I LOVE HUMANURE. All the possible pathogens are broken down in the super hot thermophilic second stage of composting. They also put all the food scraps in this compost pile, or sometimes in the non-humanure piles near the garden. I read a book yesterday called ¨let it rot¨which is all about composting and a great read.



Bugs. There are bugs here called Botflies. Ever heard of them?? I hadn´t. Emily Baier, this is for you: These flies generally live on dogs that lie around all day like Rambo. However, they also like stinky clothes. The kind of stinky clothes we each generate daily sweating like little piglet girls while we work in the sun. If you hang your stinky clothes on the clotheslines the botflies like to land on them and lay their eggs. If you then wear your stinky egg-filled clothes, they BURROW INTO YOUR SKIN AND HATCH INTO LARVA THAT YOU HAVE TO SQUEEZE OUT. Apparently a previous intern got them in her labia. In her LABIA (or shamelips, in Holland). Needless to say, I am washing the bejesus out of my clothes before hanging them up and then closely inspecting my panties before putting them on. Ew. There are other bugs that burrow into your toes near your nails but there is no hatching larva so they worry me less.



Plus the amazing jungle humidity heals everything quickly! At home my bites last days and here they are gone in a day. My hair is super curly and my skin very glowy and moist.



Five days with no coffee, meat, booze and I feel pretty good. I had a headache the first few days (coffee), but feel like i have detoxed from buenos aires. Now that we have made this trek to town to email and call our loved ones I think I will stock up on chocolate to share. We eat all our meals together, beautiful food from the garden and from other local farmers. Yesterday we made yogurt from fresh warm milk that our neighbor cow gave. We have eggs from the chickens and may even slaughter one this week and have chicken soup!!

Oh, yes. The chickens. Yesterday I learned how to tell if a chicken is laying eggs yet, or stopped laying eggs (we are going to slaughter one that has stopped). You turn them over and look at their ëgg hole¨. If it´s moist and pink and open, they are laying. If it´s yellow and dry, they have stopped laying. If it´s really little and dry, they haven´t started yet. It felt awfully invasive but also really interesting .



Also (sister!!), thanks to Cj´s leatherman, i whittled my own set of new double pointed needles. AND THEY WORK. I think they are beautiful. So it doesn´t matter that LANChile took my knitting needles. Because i can make my own. Which feels amazing, amazing, amazing.



This week the plan is to build a new foundation for the little house on mama roja and then insulate the walls. IT was built out of wood leavings a few years ago and thus has very poor insulation. We are going to use some cement to make a vapor barrier between the earth and the floor of the house (since it´s so humid), and then remove every other wood beam and pack the space between the walls with mud and sand. Exciting!! Then we are going to build this long drop tower toilet where instead of having to dump the buckets in a separate compost bin, you poop on top of the compost pile but it´s really far below you so not too gross (ideally). It´s built with two sides so that when the first fills, you just seal it off an dlet it work it´s composting magic while using the other side. IT has little doors at the bottom so when the compost is done, you just scoop it out! We are also going to make some balms and liniment for cuts and stings, liquor out of TOMATILLOS (what!!?), learn batik and go to an ëcological festival¨tonight, which actually sounds like a big outdoor party with bands and beer. So much for detoxing :) The only minor disappointment is that since we are all from the US, everyone is speaking English! I am hoping that now that we have spent some time getting to know each other pretty well we can slog through the process of learning spanish together, because everyone says they want to. Marcelo, who is Argentinian, has recommended that we have dinner and evenings in spanish only, so that should help.



In five days I have learned so much about how to live without all of the things I formerly thought were necessary. Cj and Bre and I have talked a lot about buying land together in Washington and building a home. Now i know this is possible and will not involve half the hassle we anticipated! I feel really excited to create a mama roja-esque home for myself, my family, friends and everyone who appreciates this way of living or wants to learn. Who´s in???!!



I love you.

Last few hours in the big city

My sweet housemates took off this morning. One has left to fly home to Denmark, and the other is now on a bus to continue her 5 months of travel through Argentina, Bolivia, Chile, and Brazil. It feels so melancholic and beautiful to make a new home, get so close, and then leave it all to go on to something new. Fittingly, it´s cool and raining today, and the city feels sleepy after the hot madness of Sundays in our barrio of San Telmo. I finally realized that the concert I hear every Sunday morning until 12pm is actually the very musical and devout congregation from a huge Mars Hill-esque church on the other side of my street. Mystery solved.

Lessons from this week:

The word ¨che¨in Argentina loosely means, ¨hey, you, guy!¨As such, Che Guevara being a man of the people, was regularly addressed with this slang. It stuck, forming his nickname.

The word ¨labia¨in Dutch directly translates to english as ¨shame lips.¨And ¨placenta¨? That´s a ¨mother cookie.¨

I get way too excited when speaking in Spanish to remember all of my grammar but people seem to understand me anyway.

It is possible to get sick of steak, even if it is the most incredibly succulent steak you have ever had.

The Delta of Tigre is a fabulous place. Don´t let anyone talk you out of going there. Take a boat out to the island of Tres Bocas with a picnic and just spend the day enjoying the closest place BA has to paradise: the porteño vacation spot of gorgeous sun, verdant greenery, murky hikes, and refreshing silty river swimming.

I have a new addiction to Dulce de Leche (caramel. Caramel. CARAMEL), smeared on anything, eaten with a spoon, as an ice cream flavor, stuffed in a croissant, on my fingers. Oh lord. It´s the sweetest stuff in the world, and so, so good.

Being able to laze around in your apartment reading, writing, and drinking iced bubbly water until someone rings your doorbell and invites you out to dinner is a freaking SWEET way to live.

I love school.

I love hearing about all of your beautiful adventures. How many new homes, babies (and babies-to-be!), new friends and partners, achievements, excitements, and all the boring stuff that makes a day. Thank you for continuing to share your lives with me. It helps me feel so much closer!

I have a second job interview when i come home in March! :)

I love you guys.

Farmtime!

The city shakes at 6 o´clock!

The posts start to trail off as the days become more routine and the quotidien doesn´t feel like anything to write home about...Things of course have become more comfortable and usual, even though with the eye of a traveler and an outsider, even the smallest things still feel exciting. It´s so much easier to have constant curiosity about everything while away and take it all for granted when home. I am a curious person in general, but I feel like I´ve been clammed up for a few years, taking things in, observing, analyzing, and protecting myself without offering in the way I would like. This trip, thus far, has been exactly what I was hoping for: an opportunity to get out of myself and my own world and just let down some walls. I feel so excited. SO, so excited to be me, here, now, which is a delight, a surprise, a gift, and a privilege. I am hoping that my time on the farm, which is fast approaching, will allow me the space to think more about how to maintain this better balance of myself in my cozy, beautiful, home.

Last night was magnificent. My housemates, a local couple, and a few of my classmates took a train out of town to Olivos to attend my first Peña Folklorica; a big, happy festival celebrating the roots of Argentinian music and dance. The buildup to the event made it all the better: A long train ride, a walk by the river, dinner and drinks...post dinner fatigue, meeting up with another group of new people by the side of the road, the dark walk to a dingy looking playing field past which we entered a small building and burst out into a beautiful courtyard strung with lights and full of people who love music, dance, and Argentina. We learned a number of dances like the chacarera and el gato, drank wine, talked to dozens of people (in spanish!!) and danced, danced, danced until 4am. The dances were often partner dances but done in large groups, sometimes circular, sometimes it felt like we were just running around wildly, laughing and losing our breath. But out of this kind of dancing comes the most delicious energy.

It was very weird to wake up at 2pm to the sounds of the San Telmo street market. Now, at 6 o´clock, there are more bands in the street and everyone has come out to explore after the heat of the day has passed. 32 celsius but it feels atrocious in the afternoon.

School continues to be fun and interesting, my teacher, Alejandro, is pretty hardcore and simultaneously funny, but most importantly a great teacher. I only have 2 classmates which means we each get a lot of practice time and individual instruction. My grammer improves daily.

ALSO, I have a job interview! For a job in Seattle that sounds so, so perfect. I am trying to set up a phone interview with them this week, so wish me luck!

love and socks.

Estoy casada pero soy solo.

Cj has left. I am in school. Routine has set in a little bit. Man alive it is so much easier to travel with Cj than by myself. He´s a motivator, a caretaker, a jokester, and has a great internal compass. Me? I get lost, frequently, yelled at on the street, and last night I drank too much out at Jennie´s favorite Bar, Lo de Roberto. I miss you, Cj. That said, it also feels exciting to have to buck up and figure out what to do and how to make it wonderful all on my own. Plus I feel like I´m cheating a little because I´m not really alone now that I have these smart, fun, wackadoo new friends.

I don´t know if I should chronicle all the stuff we did since last posting, so I will just address the highlights:

Thursday last Cj did serious research and found a milonga in our neighborhood. A milonga is a community dance space where professional and amateur tango dancers can meet and tango their little hearts out. Apparently the environments are all very different, so we had no idea what to expect because this milonga is not very wellknown or frequented by tourists. We got gussied up (I took off my ankle brace but still did not go for actual high heels or tango shoes) and set out to find it. We got there with no problem and mounted the dark stairs with that quickening heartrate sense of anticipation that comes from approaching the unknown. We pushed open the doors to a large room with a stage at one end, a medium sized wooden dance floor in the middle with a dozen or so tables surrounding. Only a few of the tables were occupied at this time, about 11:30pm. We figured things out with the host at the door, got a beer, and sat down floor-side. Over the next hour, couples would come out and dance to the canned tango tunes playing overhead, singles would find each other, twirl around and move on to new partners. It was lovely to watch, but I could feel Cj´s anxious desire to get up and DANCE! I was feeling nervous as we had one class in Seattle and one more successful class here in BsAs, and I was worried less about looking silly and more about knocking people over because the dance is done in pairs, in a circle. I was saved from braving this experience for a moment because the lights went down and onto the stage amid a burst of smoke came 5 beautiful women in black with their instruments: bandoneon, cello, bass, violin and keys. They proceeded to play a few beautiful and spirited tango numbers and the dancers on the floor increased. Finally, Cj poked me, grabbed my hand, and we were tangoing!! I couldn´t see anyone else, I was just looking at him because he was leading me around and signaling what steps we were doing like a PRO. It was, to be trite, exhilarating. Anyway, we didn´t knock anyone over but sat down after that song and hung out and watched the rest of the evening, riding high on our 3 minutes of glory. That was one of my favorite evenings so far.

Friday I took a placement exam for spanish classes and we did a lot of errands, spent the evening at Roberto´s bar in Almagro drinking with friends and listening to a well known local tango singer named Estelle (in Argentina this is pronounced es-te-zhe), and just hung out to prepare for...a day in the country on Saturday! Much to both of our relief we escaped the oppressive heat and humidity of BsAs for a day at an estancia outside San Andres de Giles, which is about 2 hours by bus from BsAs. We spent the day eating: homemade empanadas, salame, cheese, bread, salad, barbecued beef, chicken, sausage, homemade flan (TO DIE FOR), crazy cookies, and mate...and swimming in the pool. Oh the pool, it was magnificent. So cold and delicious. It was here that I learned Argentinian women do not wear swimsuits with full bottoms. Nope, it´s up the ass or nothing at all. I lolled about in my granny suit all the same, rode horses with Cj, played pingpong and napped in the grass. Ah yes, we also were treated to a horsemanship show by the local gauchos (or cowboys), one of whom was astoundingly beautiful. You will probably have to check facebook for proof as i am incapable of uploading pictures to this blog or correctly backing up my photos. Hah.

All in all, those were my favorite things from the past 5 days or so. Least favorite was cj leaving, though the day of tearful goodbye-ing in Buenos Aires did feel awfully romantic. He surprised me after class on Monday with a totally hip bracelet that I cannot remove now that I have put it on, so it will be the equivalent of a picture and a loveletter while I´m on the farm and can´t communicate. Or be dry. Or unbitten by mosquitos.

Te quiero todos.

The heat is making CJ crazy

¡Hola amigas!

We have now been in Buenos Aires for a week. City hot is so different from country hot. CJ sort of started losing his mind yesterday and seems to need to get out of the city to recuperate, so we are hoping to go to an estancia in the country on Saturday to ride horses and barbecue and be near some trees. That said, Bs As has been super fun and maybe a little irresponsible and debauched. I think we have turned over a new leaf as we left the hostel yesterday and rented a room in a house in San Telmo along with three Brazilian students and two friends from the hostel, Elsemike and Andreas. It´s a beautiful apartment style house, reminds me a lot of France and San Francisco as all the houses are more vertical than horizontal and just look like doors on the street, but inside it´s all wood and white paint and we have a big rooftop terrace which I am excited to dine and drink and draw on.

We have been doing a nice mix of touristy things and just hanging out...explored the Recoleta cemetary and La Boca, a rough port town where all the buildings are painted a rainbow of colors from the old ship paint. Here you walk around with a thousand people hocking paintings and tango memorabilia and there are tango and bandero performances everywhere you look, which is fun for a few hours. We had a really expensive beer and then napped for a while...the heat here really takes it out of you. Happily the ankle is better and not keeping me down.

Yesterday we bought a soccer ball and played futbol in the park with a very international team: Brazilian, Colombian, Danish, and us Norteamericanas...I was awesome, I have to say. Everyone was surprised that I didn´t royally suck :) :) It was a sweaty endeavor, we were yelled at by an angry Argentinian poppa who thought we were playing too close to his baby, heckled and then joined by a gaggle of young boys, and serenaded by an impromptu drum group. Speaking of which, we went to the most incredible show a few nights ago called La Bamba del Tiempo, which was in an outdoor auditorium packed with young people. The group consisted of multiple hand drummers, different rhythm instruments, a vocalist, and a crazy conductor...everyone wore red jumpsuits and got DOWN. It was super fun. We had a whole evening of Argentinian music that night and a little classic rock. After the drumming we hopped in a cab and careened through the streets to the sounds of Creedence Clearwater Revival on our way to a Pena Folklorica, where we heard a young man from the campos in Cordoba sing songs about mother earth or ´pachamamma´while strumming away on his guitar.

We´ve been spending a lot of time with Else and Andreas, wandering the streets at night finding music, drinking wine and getting to know each other. I didn´t expect to meet folks we would have more than a few days with and I´m happy they will be my housemates after Cj leaves. I take a placement test for my spanish classes tomorrow evening (eep!) and start classes on Monday.

Superficial Lessons from Argentina:
1. One does not put toilet paper in the toilet. If there is paper, it goes in the trash can.
2. Don´t try to do anything during siesta time except maybe drink a coffee.
3. Vegetables are not available in most small towns. You will eat bread, cheese and ham.
4. Shaved heads with a mullet/mohawk are super hip
5. Pants that wrap around leaving a big hanging flap in the middle that looks like you are carrying a load down to your knees and then tighten around your ankles are super hip
6. Gladiator boots (thong toes, boots to the ankle?) = super hip
7. Short hair with one long dreadlock = super hip
8. Drink water but only with tang
9. Fanny packs
10. Long, gorgeous, thick, dark curly hair. Don´t cut your hair. Don´t have short hair.
11. Scrunchies
12. Claw clips like from 1995 = super hip way to hold your long curly hair
13. Pregnancy
14. Cigarettes
15. Chocolate

Today we are on operation find water in which to swim!!! Tonight, a milonga to practice our tango moves.

Argentina wants me to SIT DOWN

We arrived in Buenos Aires two nights ago in a whirlwind of humidity and hubbub, found our way to our hostel by bus and spent the evening in a nearby plaza eating and watching a standard tourist tango show. Afterwards, we happened upon this fantastic flamenco performance in a nearby bar and then wandered back to fall asleep in our incredibly comfy hostel bed. The hostel is called the Art Factory and every room is painted by a local artist. It´s beautiful and funky and full of fantastic people, so I am a fan already.

However.

Yesterday morning cj and i set out to find a verduleria where we could buy some vegetables and start cooking some of our meals. As I think I mentioned before, Argentinians don´t seem to be too big on vegetables...lots of beef, ham, cheese and bread. So we´re wandering around looking skyward, and I fell into a hole in the sidewalk and...sprained my OTHER ANKLE. No joke. NO FREAKING JOKE. My right ankle is finally a-ok and now my left ankle has a purple goose egg on it. Alas...Plus this sweet old man saw me fall and told cj very sternly to take me to the Farmacia and then take me home to rest. Everybody here has been so kind and helpful. We actually went on to the store and spent the day wandering around Almagro and Recoleta, two lovely neighborhoods. Cj managed to find an american sports bar so he could watch the Seahawks game which was actually a fantastic game but hilarious to be in a sports bar with a bunch of American ex-pats and pilots with everyone screaming about football. I chatted with the bartender about beer and he gave me ice for my ankle. We met a student from U Texas who is here studying medical isotopes because apparently Argentina is the only place where they have figured out (or paid out for) non-enriched uranium which is much safer...interesting guy. We left there and had an incredible meal of local food - locro (the same stew we had in the south) and humitas, which is corn and cheese and peppers wrapped in a corn husk...like a super moist, savory tamale. Yum!!

By this time my ankle was killing me so we got a support brace at the pharmacy and cabbed it back to the hostel where we spent the evening on the rooftop terrace talking and drinking with some of the folks staying here. Of note, we met a lovely, open, creative guy named Andreas from Copenhagen and a self-employed artist/architect from Brazil named Harold. I love hearing how everyone describes themselves and tries to share parts of who they are again and again in these places. It´s such a fun environment, hostelling, because people are just open to engaging and making relationships that may last a night, a week, or a long time. It seems to work because everyone is a bit uncomfortable and can´t fall back on what feels safe and routine like we all do at home. Anyway, we ended up looking up music videos from each of our hometowns until about 3am, when the folks who work the hostel bar invited us to a party down the road at a place called Le Bar. I was definitely done for the evening, but CJ and Andreas went out and it sounds like they skipped the whole dancing/bar part and talked about love and politics until Cj wandered in around 5am. Oh Buenos Aires, you do love the nightlife.

Today Harold gave me anti-inflammatory cream for my ankle which he just happened to have on hand from when he was punched in the nose in Montevideo on New Years Eve. Yup.


Today we wandered around the famous San Telmo sunday market of crafts and antiquities. I think it would not have been so much fun (really every 10th booth has the same stuff...) except we went with Harold and he was like the antiques paparazzi, shooting everything from different angles and spotting all of the interesting collections of things like shoehorns and keys and huge knives. I thought of my dad the whole time and cj kept saying, ¨your dad would like that! Let´s get him that game! Let´s get him that map!¨It was pretty sweet. We had a delicious meal of antipasti or ¨picada¨in a shady restaurant and are now back in the hostel napping. Well, CJ is napping. I cannot nap in a bed. On a bus, sure. But in bed I get restless. I love you guys.

CJ´s Corner

Keren has been doing a wonderful job of documenting our travels. I will take a moment here to fill you in on a few of my own random thoughts on our time in Argentina. First, I better mention Esquel and El Bolson since Keren skipped over that in her last post.

Esquel was intended to be a stop in an authentic Argentinian town between the touristy but breathtaking beauty of Patagonia and the slightly less touristy but breathtaking (debateable) of the Lakes District. Esquel is pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Quite simply, there is very little going on here and that is why it is not touristy. After a 23 hour busride, we were happy to find a hostel and fall into a blissful slumber. First, we had to eat. We wandered around and found all restaurants closed since it was New Years day (Felize Anos!) We found a poor excuse for an "Irish Pub" and had very bad pizza and beer before finding our beds. Apparently, all you need is Guiness behind the bar to be an Irish Pub. Upon waking, we soon realized that it was Sunday and there was even less open than the day before. We worked hard to get our basic tasks done: laundry, pharmacy, internet, food. After leaving Esquel, we decided that there was nothing that we really liked about the town. People were not particularly friendly or helpful. There were no vegetables to be found (our never-ending quest). The town was dirty and sprawly. There was good graffiti, that is one good thing. Pictures will follow. We will continue filling you in on our impressions of "authentic Argentina" outside of the tourist bubble. It is so hard to really get to know a country when you are there for such a short time but we are trying to get to the heart of Argentina as best we can.

After Esquel, El Bolson was a breath of fresh air. It is a beautiful little hippy town tucked in between two mountain ranges. It has a charming central plaza, a regular artisinal market, great hiking and is the center for artisinal beers in Argentina. Score! The only drawback is that our good luck with the weather changed. The clouds rolled in and we decided to move north earlier than we would have liked. However, our day in El Bolson was filled with tasty beers and good street food. The market was filled with innovative creations and featured a great live band that enchanted us with their flaminco rythms (not sure if it was flaminco but that is the closest that I could compare it to). We also had fun watching the dreadlocked Argentinian kids wearing brightly colored hammer-pants frolick with Mate in hand. Would have loved to spend more time in this charming little place. Perhaps next time.

Other random thoughts before I go:
-Keren is a rock star. We have been doing some very hard treking and she is doing very well despite some bad health luck. You should all be proud. She will probably be a mountain woman by the time she returns. You have all been warned.

-The eating schedule here is wacky. Wake up at around 8 and eat white bread, jam. Drink coffee or Yerbe Mate. At around 1-2 eat lunch, usually white bread, ham and cheese. Drink Yerbe Mate. Nap. At around 9pm eat dinner, usually steak, pasta or pizza. Drink Yerbe Mate. Drink lots of wine and beer. Go to sleep at around 2 or 3. Repeat.
We have not adjusted.

-School kids all hike in the summer. We have passed more teenage Argentinians on the trails than anyone else. They are everywhere.

-My Spanish is improving but is still very bad. Keren´s is much better. Learn Spanish before you come. It helps tremendously.

-We have met more German tourists than anyone else. Apparently they love to come here.

-Argentinian style in the south reminds me of the 90s. Lots of mullets, fanny packs, floresent colors and high-tops.

-We will be seeking out more local music from here on out. It is really amazing and I crave more. Local music and vegetables!

More to come. xoxo CJ

Against all odds, I still love backpacking.

Yesterday was the hardest hike of my life. I think cj is posting events from the last few days (Esquel - El Bolson - Bariloche) but I just had to put this one in. I spent about 20 minutes convinced that I was going to die. But i didn´t! And it was gorgeous!!!

This all started when Cj and I arrived in Bariloche yesterday morning and were immediately overwhelmed by all the people and tourism. It´s a beautiful little village full of chocolate and ice cream shops right on a lake. The town is surrounded by a lot of poverty. Bombed out houses and streets full of garbage, houses made of fabric, cardboard and corrugated tin, sick looking dogs...all relegated to the outskirts of town, only touching the placid, lakeside town in places like the bus station, where everyone mingles in the heat and diesel fumes. It appears that this is a place where other Argentinians come for vacation to escape the heat, shop and engage in outdoor adventure activities. It is located right next to a national park called Nahuel Huapi, and our plan was to escape the town to camp and hike this national park as we did in the Parque Nacional Los Glaciares. We didn´t do much research on the area so ended up bussing down the road 12 kilometers or so to ¨campamento petunia¨which turned out to be a total resort KOA style of campground with a store and a restaurant, cabins and about a thousand people with their dogs and cars and lights and radios and daily washing and cigarettes and gallons and gallons of mate. Needless to say, not exactly what we were looking for. But we made the best of it and spent a beautiful evening at an open air bar down on the lake, drinking wine, playing cards and watching the family of the folks who run the bar playing on the beach. And i slept. All. night. long. Which was because cj gave me his sleeping pad and slept on the cold, hard ground. He is such a good man. (Side note: a car alarm went off in the middle of the night at the campground. And sounded for a good 15 minutes, which of course set off the dozen dogs and half dozen babies...)

Anyways, the next morning we set out with a vengeance to find some Nature. We bussed to what appears to be a ski resort called Villa Catedral and took a chairlift some thousands of meters up a mountain with our backpacks because we heard there was a sweet hike at the top to a cool little refugio where we could camp and play and eat. Yeah. So we get to the top 45 minutes later (at this point i am already sunburned but do not know it, too rapt by the incredible scenery), scramble up to the Punta Princesa and chat with a couple of Polish guys who just finished the hike. They told us it was a ¨pretty easy 3 hour hike.¨Also proceeded to talk about the 207 other mountains they have hiked, skiied or biked down, but we didn´t pay much attention. We set out at this incredible slant from the top of the mountain, wrapping down the side of the mountain on a loose, rocky trail that was just a little wider than my two feet. After about ten minutes we started having to scramble over large rocks on this trail that was completely unforgiving: right over the edge was a valley, thousands of meters down!! This is where I had a panic attack. I didn´t want to go back but i thought for sure that we were going to make a misstep and it would all be over. I thought we should have ropes and nets and walkie talkies and SOMETHING besides our fragile little bodies and packs. So cj talked me through it by telling me we could go back if i wanted and using some rock climbing psycho mumbo jumbo on me that worked like a charm!! 30 minutes later the path was wider and i was able to look around without getting dizzy and it was GORGEOUS. Pictures forthcoming, this computer does not allow uploads...After 4 hours in the hot, hot sun, many more rocks and a hike down a snowy crevasse, we found ourselves in a beautiful valley where all I could think of was gnomes and fairies and little hobbit people living in delightful peace. As well as a rushing waterfall where we filled our bottles and rested a moment. Around the bend was the refugio! Always living up to their names, they appear right when refuge is most needed. However, as we got closer we saw...dozens of tents! Over the hill, maybe even 100 tents! Where did all these people come from??? There is no way they did this hike! I saw children! CHILDREN! Am I just a super mega wimp??? We stopped and chatted with Maile, who brought us the most delicious glass of juice i have ever had, and then suddenly realized that there is another way up this mountain. A lovely forest trek that winds slowly and safely from the bottom of the hill, because the refugio is not at the top of the mountain but partway up the other side...thus everyone and their mother coming up for the night. Alas!! We set up camp on the edge of a hill and came back to figure out dinner and meet folks. In the refugio they had a beer on tap, a negra (porter) from Bariloche, so we got a beer and subsequently met Alex, a fellow beer-lover from...Seattle! No fooling. Then we talked with Valerie, a ballet dancer who went to Buenos Aires 2 years ago and was so good at tango she got a job performing in Milongas and is now in New York studying international affairs...Maile and Grisella made an incredible dinner of carrot fritters, garbanzo beans with garlic, pickles and some sort of chip. All quickly eaten and we were off to bed. I had the sleeping pad again. Cj is the best. Also, it´s pretty sweet to wake up on the side of a mountain with snowy peaks all around you as the sun shines in...

We took the easy hike out.

I am the color of a lobster. I swear I wore SPF 50 the entire time, and wore a long sleeved shirt at least part of the time, but missed key moments, like riding the chair lift. So for our evening in Bariloche it´s water, aloe, a little food and sleep at our crazy hostel 10 stories high in the middle of downtown. Tomorrow, to Buenos Aires!!

Out of the mountains, into the lakes!

Cj and I just spent most of the past week trekking in the incredible Andes mountains of Argentinian Patagonia and have emerged in good spirits if not extremely sunburnt. Cj´s head actually looks like the desert and the top of my right ear seems to have peeled off, but my ankle held up thanks to the extra ACE bandage in Deanna´s medical kit, and we were able to see some truly amazing things.

Before the mountains we spent Christmas day exploring the huge Perito Moreno glacier outside of the town we flew into called El Calafate. Calafate is pretty touristy as was the glacier trip, but the glacier itself was amazing! A huge, blue field of ice, which was impressive enough in itself, but even more so when we took a boat trip around to watch it ¨calve,¨which is when a chunk breaks off and falls into the water. Sounds cool, but it scared the bejesus out of me the first time because it sounds like a cannon or a gunshot when the tiniest piece hits the water. We were told that part of the reason so much tourism is set up around this particular glacier (there are many, we hiked in the national park of glaciers) is because this glacier is ín balance´, meaning that it gains as much ice as it loses, and thus is not receding like the others. We then had a killer meal in town at El Cucharon, where Cj had his first ´bife de chorizo,´a delicious steak, and i had a local lamb dish that was to die for. We drank the local beer which is called Quilmes, of which there is like two dozen different cans and bottles in the grocery store but I think the beer is exactly the same...Speaking of lambs, the hostel we stayed at in Calafate had a little lamb roped outside, where he just hung out all day and played with Charlie, the black kitten that also lives there. Federico, our helpful hostel acquaintance, informed us that this little Ovejo was going to be New Years eve dinner, but they changed their mind and are keeping him as a mascot for the estancia. Thus they named the lamb something that means both ¨ass¨ and ¨lucky¨as a joke.

We then bussed to El Chalten, the main jumping off point for trekking, situated at the base of the Fitz Roy, Torre, and Solo mountain peaks. We later learned from a local that El Chalten is the youngest town in Argentina, established in the early 1980´s as a land grab from Chile. Because of this the town is kind of wackadoo: there are no zoning laws, residences and businesses mingle willy nilly and there is one funny block with a few street lights. Apparently there is only tourism in the summer which supports this town of 770 people the rest of the year. Cj had his first traditional mate here and the jury is still out on whether or not it´s too much of an acquired taste. We met a lot of funny travelers at our Albergue Patagonia, including a fantastic young irishwoman named Maria who invited us to share a meal with her and who I will hopefully see again in Buenos Aires, the awesome Argentinian ladies who ran the hostel, and a german woman who will remain nameless because she just complained CONSTANTLY about Patagonia not being beautiful or impressive compared to the West Coast of the US while simultaneously saying she moved away from Germany to get away from what she described as a generally accepted attitude of complaining. She also explained to me that there is no prejudice in Germany, unlike in the United States where racism exists, and she doesn´t understand why the French don´t like the Germans. I was super tired when we were talking and just kept laughing at her incredible lack of insight, but we ended up having a pretty good conversation...my social work chops need honing from time to time.

Anyway, Patagonia is freaking gorgeous. Huge, soaring, snow capped peaks, icy blue and green lakes and lagoons, waterfalls, condors soaring...A deer-like animal called the Huemule lives in the mountains and is endangered, hunted by both pumas and people (though the park rangers have banned hunting), and they asked us to record where and when if we were to happen upon one of these ¨ghosts of the Andes¨on our trek. Alas, we did not.

In Chalten there are hundreds of dogs roaming the streets who are not neutered or well cared for, which is sad, but i was told the town generally tries to make sure they don´t go hungry when their owners leave for the winter. There is some very cool street art and humorous signs like the meterological center of Chalten which consists of a rock on a string and a sign stating ¨when the rock is wet, it is rainy. When the rock is swinging, the weather will be windy,¨etc...Speaking of wind, it is so intense in this valley!! The day before we set out on our backpacking trip my primary goals were: 1. Do not further sprain or otherwise screw up my ankle, and 2. Do not get blown off a mountain. Luckily, neither of these things happened.

We hiked the first day to a gorgeous lagoon where we just played around and explored. The second day we did a pretty strenuous hike up to the Laguna de los Tres, which is situated right below the Cerro Fitz Roy, so close that you can see the tracks where the climbers walked across, but unfortunately couldn´t see any climbers on the peak. I was sweating bullets by the top and was blown away seeing all of the folks in their 50s and 60s hiking down with their walking sticks while keeping up conversation in Spanish, Italian, French, and German. It was warm and sunny and we had just hiked straight up for at least an hour, so cj decided to pull off his clothes and hop in the GLACIAL lake. There were chunks of ice floating in it! So, needless to say, onlookers gasped and cheered and then a number of other guys decided to get in...one guy even went so far as to ride a chunk of ice for a few minutes. Besides the astounding beauty, one of my favorite things about being up here is that you can just drink the water straight out of the rivers and streams because it´s all glacial. It´s incredible! Cj got a couple of pictures of me drinking waterfall...Such a wonderful experience but also made me feel sad that it´s so foreign to be able to drink our water.

We camped that night at Poincenot, whereupon i did not sleep, got my period unexpectedly Sorry, TMI!), became extremely cranky and had a minor meltdown, informing cj in the morning that we were going back to town. Instead, he asked me to think what a ¨mountain woman¨would do in this situation and that I had access to clean socks and lots of plants. After yelling at him for not knowing what it´s like to be bleeding on top of a mountain, I decided he was right and would once again access the glory of Deanna´s medical kit. Thus, we were off on the next leg of our trip, a 5 hour unmarked trail to a refugio, or small ¨refuge¨where we could get food and sleep. Cj picked this leg of the journey because he thought it might be sufficiently ¨hardcore.¨ This was probably the most cathartic part of our trek for me because it was GODDAMNED HARD. We had to ford a river and rockclimb with our packs on and I lost it again because I thought i was going to fall in the river until cj clambered down like the lithe monkey he is and took my pack. Anyway, we met 4 other people on this whole hike and by the time we all got to the refugio, we were friends. It was hardcore. Ina and Franck from Germany (teachers living in Buenos Aires) and Frank from Holland who is biking around Argentina as part of his midlife crisis (his words). We had a fantastic dinner of pizza cooked by Flave and Jose, accompanied by beer and great conversation. I slept well that night.

We hiked out the next day in the raging wind and prepared to hitchhike back down Ruta 23 because we didn´t realize how far out we were and had to be back in town to catch our bus to Esquel that evening. One car came in about half an hour and didn´t even look twice at us! Luckily, a taxi showed up and dropped off some hikers starting from the other direction, so we hopped in back to town and i got a chance to converse in spanish again, which was not so common on the trek.

Filthy and tired but happy, we hopped on the bus on New Years eve and settled in for a 23 hour ride to Esquel. Our hilarious co-bus driver surprised us with Pan Dulce and apple champagne along with old Argentinian music videos and a new years countdown to ring it in bus-style. Needless to say, I slept a lot, we met two medical students from Germany and some folks who are on a very long cycling trip and watched the landscape which was...exactly the same for 22 hours: flat and brown with spiky green bushes. An hour before Esquel the hills rose up and things turned green...we are now out of Patagonia and in the very beginning of the Lakes District. Today is laundry and internet in this very non-touristy town (nothing open on New Years day or Sunday until 4pm!) and then we head to a little hippie enclave called el Bolson tomorrow where we will do more hiking and go to a local crafts fair, and hopefully eat some vegetables! We have mostly eaten bread, cheese and ham in the past 6 days, in a variety of forms, with a couple of oranges and a truly excellent bean and sausage stew called ¨locro¨a few nights ago.

As a side note, I sort of mocked my dear friend Deanna for making us a very complex medical kit to take on our backpacking trip but I am eating my words. We have used:
1. ACE bandage for ankle
2. Gauze pads repurposed for ¨mountain woman¨pads
3. Tape for cj´s broken shoe, to fix above mentioned pads to undies, and to mend a hole in our tent to keep out the sand flies thus preventing increased exposure to DREAD DISEASE
4. Claritin because cj was smart and realized he was having allergies and not the plague, so I didn´t take any allergy meds until i went and saw a pharmacist today and now i feel like a NEW WOMAN
5. Aleve for aching feet, backs and heads
6. Bandaids for blistered toes
7. Disinfectant for cj´s wound which we think was a bite from one of the monstrous, thumb-sized flies that attacked everyone who was not doused in DEET

So, um, thank you!!

We can´t upload pictures here which would help illustrate all of this SO much better, but those will have to come later.

We love you guys! Off to more adventures...I think I have found a spanish teacher for my time in Bs As thanks to Bre´s friend Mirta. Also, our friends from the refugio have invited us to visit them in the city, which we are excited to do! Until next time...xoxox keren and cj...next post will be from him!