Home, again.

Wait, where is home now? After stretching our three week trip into four, we are back in Uruguay. Being in the U.S. with friends and family sure felt like home, but coming back to our own house here and our pets felt like a homecoming too. It had been ten months since we had been in the U.S. Though this was the longest I have ever been out of the country, coming back was like being a fish in water again. To be honest, I was not sure what my impression of Uruguay would be upon our return here. Happily, I am glad to be back though I acknowledge that finding ways to beat boredom here and find meaning in day to day life is the challenge ahead.

For all of our friends who are curious about where we live in Uruguay, let me dispel a couple of common myths and misunderstandings we encountered while in the U.S. about our current location. First of all, Uruguay has virtually nothing in common, not even a border, with Paraguay. Let me say it again, we do not live in Paraguay. Secondly, we are way farther south than most of you think and it is not tropical here. I can’t tell you how many people were shocked that we didn’t come back with perfect tans. Now if I am describing you, dear reader, don’t fret; I am not picking on you. I just think it is interesting how our idea of a place can be radically different from reality. I like to be fair, so this is a good time to point out that most Uruguayans I have met think the United States means Miami.

My first impression upon coming back to the Washington D.C. area is that there are so many freaking people, so many cars and so much development – everywhere. Those multitudes of people have a bit more of an edge to them as well (I blame the crowded conditions). In Uruguay, if a driver sounds their horn, 99% of the time they are just saying hello to a friend. In the U.S., at least where I am from, that honk is usually accompanied by the driver telling you that you’re number one. Street lights on the interstates are as tall as the glacier carved cliffs in Mendoza and highway overpasses loom like distant Andean mountains. Everything is big. Uruguay by contrast is quaint – and I mean that as a compliment. There is a definite slower pace here and people are easy going and mostly pleasant.

This morning I took the dogs for a long walk on the beach. On the way to the beach I took note of all the new spring growth and startled a flock of startling green parrots on the path to the sand. The normally dark water of the estuary was a shimmering light blue, a perfect companion to the clear morning sky. The sea was calm as cormorants bobbed up and down in the gentle waves. In this moment I was happy. Every cell in me buzzed with the simple and powerful joy of being alive. Then I slipped on a slime covered rock by a tidal pool and my reverie was broken. No one knows what tomorrow will bring, so we will enjoy our surroundings while we are here. And yes, we’re happy to be back.

Timeout

Postcards From Uruguay is on a three week hiatus while we are in the USA.

Market Day

In the months leading up to our move to Uruguay, I had bucolic fantasies dancing around my brain about raising chickens, having farm animals and being an organic gardener. I had even planned what the hen-house would look like. In my Green Acres silliness, I had already named the goats we would raise after previous co-workers (Ino for the stinkiest one and Kylie for the cutest). Clearly, all those issues of Mother Earth News I had read had taken root in my brain.




Fast forward to the present. It became clear that an isolated life in a rustic cabin in the campo does not suit us for more than a few months of the year. So we traded in our pitch fork and overalls for a modern house in a beach town with all the amenities. Don’t start thinking this is typical suburbia though. The road in front of our house, though level and well traveled, is not paved. The other day I was lured outside by the unmistakable clipity-clop of a horse-drawn carriage going down the road. It could have been followed by a speeding Mercedes. That’s how it is here – an interesting blend of old and new. Just a 15 minute walk to the water and we can buy fish caught that day. We also have an open air market (called a feria) just down the road that we walk to once a week to buy a huge variety of high quality inexpensive fresh local produce.

So, no chickens for us. We can buy lovely organic eggs with rich orange yolks at the weekly market for far less than we would spend on chicken feed. And we don’t have to clean up chicken shit. Even after devouring books like The Last American Man, and Carla Emory’s Encyclopedia of Country Living, and of course, Mother Earth News, I am no homesteader. And that is just fine. Because in Uruguay, you don’t have to grow it yourself and live off the grid to have wholesome, fresh, locally produced food as the norm. It is a small country and they don’t need to turn to factory farming to feed it. Also it bears mentioning that petroleum based fertilizers are expensive and natural farming traditions are preserved because they are simply cheaper. Farm animals pretty much live out their animal lives in a natural way before making their way to your dinner plate. No CAFOs, no so-called “free range” chickens that live their beakless lives without ever seeing the sun, no docking the tails of pigs so they don’t bite off each others’ tails in their horrible fetid confinement. I think author Michael Pollan would be pleased.

Today is market day. I am eating divinely sweet strawberries at the moment. We came home with our usual huge haul. We walked there and spent 297 pesos (about $13).
This bought us: ½ kilo of strawberries, 1 kilo of tomatoes, 2 kilos of onions, 2 eggplant, 1 large winter squash, 1 bunch of spinach, 2 kilos of oranges, 1 large head of broccoli, 1 kilo of lemons, a bunch of bananas (the one non-local concession, they are from Ecuador, it is too cold here for them), and ¼ kilo of black olives. In this country of non-apologetic carnivores where beef is practically a religion, one could be a vegetarian quite easily.

Home, Sweet Home

I have noticed an interesting phenomenon in the expat community here in Uruguay. Among people who have chosen to live in a country other than that of their birth, it is conspicuous how many of these people have nothing but negative things to say about their first country. For example, some people who have lived most of their lives in the United States move here for a change of pace or a more affordable retirement. They then rail against the U.S. and all it stands for. Personally, I think the U.S. stands for some pretty great things. Yes, it is not without its problems, but if you are looking for a country without problems, keep looking and let me know if you find it. It sure ain’t Uruguay.

My explanation for this phenomenon is cognitive dissonance. All types of people emigrate for very valid reasons. But, a lot of them then support and rationalize their decision to leave the United States by putting it down. This rationalization allows them to avoid any discord in their own heads about the bold decision they made to move to another country.

I keep this blog neither as a platform for my views or as my own personal soapbox. So what does the above have to do with it? Well, we have bought a house here. And for the record, it is not because we are anti-U.S. We are absolutely not. We just like it here – for now. Home may be where you hang your hat, but the home in my heart will always be the United States of America.
That said, pictures and a virtual house tour will be forthcoming. We have been preoccupied with moving and getting settled in to our new home – our very first owned together. Now you know why I have neglected this blog for nearly a month. This is not the end of the blog though! I will keep it updated with our continued adventures in South America and home ownership Uruguayan style.

Back in Uruguay

With a few nights in hotels without internet access and many miles on the road, I have neglected our online travelogue. We arrived back at La Gaia yesterday just before dark after driving all day from the city of Santa Fe, in Argentina’s Entre Rios province. Chile we will save for a future trip.

During our two weeks on the road, we covered approximately 5500 kilometers, stayed in eight cities/towns, and ate way too much red meat. Our “Cordoba trip” took us to Mendoza, Uspallata, San Juan, and Tupungato. Uspallata and Tupungato are interesting and beautiful; I will write about them in future blog posts. San Juan, the city in the province of the same name, I will neglect because the only redeeming thing about this ugly and depressing city is the Graffigna winery and wine museum.

I may have quipped that the best thing about Uruguay is its proximity to Argentina. After this trip, that still holds true. However, peaceful, bucolic Uruguay is nice to come home to after a long and tiring trip. The animalitos were all beyond happy to see us again. They were well cared for by our fantastic house-sitters. Except for missing the cats a bit, I did not worry about them at all, because I knew they were in good hands.

Highlights of our trip included the awe-inspiring scenery of the Andes, two fantastic hotels – the Ca’Montana in La Falda, Cordoba province and Tupungato Divino in Tupungato, Mendoza province – Mendoza wine and the freedom of deciding from day to day where the road would take us.

Our little Volkswagon Parati held up incredibly well. Cesar has dubbed it “Sherman”, because it proved to be a little tank. We took it up Andean roads at 2800 meters, along unpaved rocky roads and covered many miles of highway. It performed like a champ.

We came home with further appreciation for our vast and diverse neighbor across the Rio de la Plata. Argentina is so much more that tango and Buenos Aires, the two things most North Americans know about it.

The scenery around Tupungato Divino, in the Uco Valley of the province of Mendoza.

Argentine Road Trip, Days 4-6

Surprise! We’re in Mendoza, land of vineyards and majestic mountains. I would say this wasn’t in the plans, but then we didn’t really have any plans, so maybe it is not so surprising. After two days in the province of Cordoba, Cesar started dreaming of Mendoza. I think he had our shared fascination with Aconcagua in mind.

By Thursday morning, when we were getting ready to check out of the delightful Ca’Montana hotel, we had pretty much decided to head for Mendoza. The only thing holding us back was lack of knowledge about the quality of the roads and just how long it would take us to get there. By kismet, Alejandro, co-owner of Ca’Montana is a walking encyclopedia of Argentina and has made this drive at least several times. He invited us into his family’s private home on the grounds of Ca’Montana and got out his many maps. As we sat around their table discussing the route and the sights, I got the feeling he was as excited about our trip as we were. I felt very privileged that he was sharing his information and love of travel with us.

Alejandro was right on the money. We were able to follow his directions easily and admire some incredible scenery along the way. Taking a road through the Sierras Grandes of Cordoba, we climbed and twisted and turned our way through mountains where condors soared. Before that section of the road, we had randomly put in a CD of Beethoven. The grand soaring lines of the second movement of the fifth symphony were a perfect accompaniment to the scenery. With jaw-dropping mountain scenery and exposed two lane roads, it was an exhilarating drive. At one point I had to brake hard for a loose goat that trotted out in front of the car. Did I mention the local specialty? I felt like having some at that moment.

We came into Mendoza at night. Finding your way in a strange city in a foreign country is not easy, but we managed just fine - with some stern words between a tired, irritable pilot and his exhausted, grumpy navigator - and found a hotel for the night. The city of Mendoza, capital of the province of the same name is attractive and welcoming. Unlike other Argentine cities, it has very wide streets - in case evacuation is necessary for a super earthquake.

Mendoza has it all - an attractive city with every convenience and good shopping (including mountaineering gear), the best vineyards on the continent, the highest mountain in the western and southern hemispheres, and good food. I know a certain Irishman who left Mendoza for Uruguay because he was bored here. Now that I have seen this place, I want to grab this man by the ears and shake him hard, and ask “what the heck is wrong with you, brother?”. Oh well, different strokes for different folks.

So, here we are today in Uspallata, a small village about 90 km north of the city of Mendoza. It was another awe-inspiring drive. The mountains looked close enough to reach out and touch. After our time in Patagonia, we know that distances in grand places are seriously misleading. What looked close enough to reach out and grab is probably a three day walk away. After checking in, we drove west along Ruta 7 to ogle more Andean scenery. We ended up at the Aconcagua national park to get a glimpse of the great mountain for ourselves. We saw an interesting thing on the way back to the village. Two fully laden tractor trailers overtook two more fully laden tractor trailers, going downhill, on a two lane road, with another big rig coming the opposite way. We both breathed a sigh of relief when all four trucks going our way were single file again. That could have been very ugly. I expect a trucker or two had to change his shorts after that.

Tomorrow’s plans include a hike in the Parque Provincial Aconcagua, to ogle the giant again, a visit to a natural stone bridge called Puente del Inca and who knows what else. Maybe we’ll end up in Chile. I’ll try to keep you posted. Hasta Luego.

On our hike to the top of La Banderita in La Falda, Cordoba.

Ruta 7 to Uspallata from Aconcagua

Aconcagua

Argentine Road Trip, Days 1-3

Since my last post, we have been to Argentina twice. The weekend before last we spent in Buenos Aries getting our fill of the city. Ostensibly, the purpose of that trip was to pick up a few things to get ready for our next trip to Argentina, a road trip to the province of Cordoba, but really we just wanted to hang out in the big city again. A week after returning home from Buenos Aires, we were off to Cordoba, this time by car.

I had meant to do a blog post at the beginning of our trip, but was overcome with packing and getting ready. So, here we are, three days into our trip and I am finally getting around to it. Beyond planning to spend up to two weeks on the road, and knowing where we were going to stop for the first night, we have no itinerary. Road trips are best when you wing it.

Well, winging it didn't really pay off for the first two nights. Trusting our guide book, we decided that our stop-over point on the road to Cordoba should be the slightly out of the way city of Rosario, in the provice of Santa Fe. Our Rough Guide to Argentina described Rosario, birthplace of Che Guevara and Argentina's third largest city, as "one of the most attractive cities in Argentina".

Pedestrian street in Rosario

Its charms did not exactly jump out at us and grab our attention, and with only one night there we did not try very hard to seek them out. I am sure that if one was stuck in Rosario long enough, one cound find some interesting things to do, but we were there long enough to have dinner, sleep and go for a walk the next morning before driving off in search of greener pastures. Greener pastures we did see (literal ones, not the figurative ones ot which I was referring) on Ruta 9 to Cordoba. We were crossing the litoral - the bread basket of Argentina - and along the way the sides of the road were nothing but enormous, Kansas-sized farms, nothing but fertile flatness for as far as the eye could see. Then as we approached the city of Cordoba, capital of the provice of Cordoba, the landscape changed all at once. Beyond the city, the sierras lurked like a low hanging cloud. All we could discern was a large shape in the distance, about the same size as the Blue Ridge mountains of Virginia, but it was nice to finally see hills. I was expecting Cordoba city to be lovely, but the approach to it was anything but. There was smoke and haze everywhere. We drove by a large area of rubble that looked like a dump for construction materials, with little smoldering piles everywhere. It was the worst introduction to any city that I have ever seen. Cordoba has a rich colonial history, owing to the Jesuits who developed much of it and founded what would become the second largest university in South America. Alas, the Jesuits eventually lost favor with the Spanish crown and were expelled in 1767 by King Charles III. The city continued to thrive and is Argentina's second largest city.

Almost immediately, we knew Cordoba city was not what we want. What we want is beautiful alpine scenery and fresh air. Obviously one does not go to the country's second city for those things. After navigating our way to the city's filthy, smoggy and very convenient beltway, the circunvalacion, we headed north on Ruta 38 for the Punilla Valley. Our destination was a boutique hotel just outside the city of La Falda. First we stopped for lunch in Carlos Paz, a bustling resort town built around a large reservoir with sandy beaches. After sinking our teeth into a pile of fresh, hot, delicious empanadas, we were back in the car and bound for La Falda. We passed through many small towns which clung to the hillsides. After about an hour and an half we arrived in La Falda and asked for directions twice before finding this very private and out of the way hotel that looks like a private residence. We were greeted warmly by its proprietors and shown to our room. What a pleasant surprise after two days on the road and basic hotel accomodations. The hotel itself is an extremely solid and well made home from 1944. The woodwork in it, all local indigenous hardwood, is exquisite and shows remarkable craftsmanship of a quality that simply does not exist in modern buildings. To my delight, our bathroom has an enormous round Jacuzzi surrounded by windows and a glass ceiling and includes a small rooftop patio. We spent the afternoon playing with the two hotel Rotweillers, napping and exploring the town. Then we spent the first hour of darkness trying to find the hotel again after exploring the town. We finally admitted we were utterly lost, found a taxi and together with the driver managed to find the hotel. That was followed by a luxurious soak in the giant tub and a sumptuous dinner prepared by the onsite chef who is the daughter of the hotel owners.

For tomorrow, we are looking forward to a morning hike, hopefully followed by a lunch of the local specialty, grilled suckling goat, and planning the rest of our trip - a little bit. I will try to keep up with the blog postings. Hasta luego.