"We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty."
-Maya Angelou, poet, philosopher, and activist
December, 2015 - Goodness, gracious, what a long time it has been!!! And here I assumed when we reached Europe back in March we would have more Wifi access than we could shake a cyber stick at.
Turns out, I never managed a chance to find out! Our Schengen visa was so disallowing of extra time that we raced through at a pace that granted almost no free time to work (and left my parents uncontacted for FAR longer than is appropriate). So I fell (even more) behind on the photoblog.
Oh, well… Better late than ne-… Anyway, let’s talk about Argentina!
Turns out, I never managed a chance to find out! Our Schengen visa was so disallowing of extra time that we raced through at a pace that granted almost no free time to work (and left my parents uncontacted for FAR longer than is appropriate). So I fell (even more) behind on the photoblog.
Oh, well… Better late than ne-… Anyway, let’s talk about Argentina!
 |  |
  |   |
It’s safe to say (and I’m guessing also presumed) that we would come to certain places that were simply “–er” (bigger, broader, tastier, nicer, cheaper, beautiful-er) and that when we arrived we would rightly find just cause to invest more time in the area. As an example, Mexico quickly granted us sufficient incentive to stay. Due to its richness of culture, diversity of ecology, and the strength of the US dollar that permitted gut-busting amounts of deliciously dirt-cheap grub, we broke our country-a-week rule and remained there for nearly a month without regret and without satiating our hunger for more…
More tacos, that is.
More tacos, that is.
Upon leaving Bolivia, we once more we found ourselves compelled to make more room on our calendar, but this time for the self-proclaimed "Europe of South America," the land of tango and beef: Argentina. Yes, the southern giant of South America caught our attention, and it’s still one of the only countries we have traveled to twice since leaving the U.S. last year. The first entry led our expedition across the Bolivian border and through the deserts of Northeast Argentina.
 |   |
  |  |
Before I left Bolivia, I was honestly expecting a much more drastic change from one country to the next. It had been described to me by one source that such a notable and blatant contrast was awaiting me. Interestingly enough, however, I found that with the exception of Buenos Aires and some parts of the Central and Southern East, Argentina shared much more with the rest of South America than I had been led to believe, and some care to admit.
Our first stop on Argentine soil (after a seven-hour, on foot border crossing, where we spent the night on a dividing bridge and STILL somehow found ourselves in the wrong line for immigration) was the small, soon to be up-and-coming yet still authentically quaint-and-charming desert town of Humahuaca, placed amongst the roots of the Hornocal mountain range.
 |   |
 |  |
I quickly learned (once again) how remarkably fortunate I was for Daniel’s vast and well-deserved network of friends when I met the compassionate and lovely Paulita.
What kindness, what heart, and what sweetness she conveyed and evoked… I was so tenderly touched by her openness and sincerity. She was warm and gentle and darling, working hard to do good while making it look effortless to be so as she fulfilled her life-long ambition to buy and run a homey, heart-felt hostel in humble Humahuaca.
What kindness, what heart, and what sweetness she conveyed and evoked… I was so tenderly touched by her openness and sincerity. She was warm and gentle and darling, working hard to do good while making it look effortless to be so as she fulfilled her life-long ambition to buy and run a homey, heart-felt hostel in humble Humahuaca.
| While in this delightfully dreamy world of hers, I wandered narrow, sandy streets lined with crack-walled houses and infrequent splashes of bold paint whose stamina could never quite outlast the wear of the wind. I stumbled into even smaller general stores, where smiling, dark faces laughed at and encouraged my bumbling Spanish while I failed to find ingredients to make American Chili for my hostel friends. I explored surrounding mountains banded with colors and patterns I had never seen before, striped with and adorned by geological layers like filo dough that slashed the hills with wavy stripes of bloody red and tangerine and coffee and crème. I stood in the tiny public square as a clearly marked outsider while tight-knit town folk gathered to watch the village’s ancient, colonial clock tower make its daily display of St Antonio’s statue like it was Beyoncé singing the National Anthem at Kennedy Center. |   |
  |   |
Sometimes, it felt like magical things would (and did) happen there. Like a butterfly spawning that ended the species' twenty-year incubation period, sending clouds made of millions of small, flapping bodies bouncing through the mountain air like infant angels still discovering their pale wings.
Sometimes it just felt like a town untouched, on the precipice of discovery from an unholy outside world. I’m grateful that I was able to see it prior to a more expansive exposure that feels quite inevitable.
Sometimes it just felt like a town untouched, on the precipice of discovery from an unholy outside world. I’m grateful that I was able to see it prior to a more expansive exposure that feels quite inevitable.
 |   |
 |  |
Difficult goodbyes ensued when we made leave, but our promises to see each other again buffered the bitterness.
Keeping with the Northern parts, we rode East towards Brasil. The landscape evolved from barren, dusty oranges and sandy yellows to the verdant greens of thick leafery and the terra cotta red of fine-ground earth as we entered the jungles who create the intersection between Argentina, Brasil, and Paraguay.
*Side note: It was here that I had my first taste of Argentine steak... Maybe I'm not a connoisseur, but I liked my mother's better (thanks, Mom!). That said, my post on Buenos Aires will shed more light on the real story of Argentine beef that I learned during our interview.
Keeping with the Northern parts, we rode East towards Brasil. The landscape evolved from barren, dusty oranges and sandy yellows to the verdant greens of thick leafery and the terra cotta red of fine-ground earth as we entered the jungles who create the intersection between Argentina, Brasil, and Paraguay.
*Side note: It was here that I had my first taste of Argentine steak... Maybe I'm not a connoisseur, but I liked my mother's better (thanks, Mom!). That said, my post on Buenos Aires will shed more light on the real story of Argentine beef that I learned during our interview.
These thick, tropical woodlands ring the awesome display of Iguazu, one of the greatest wonders of the world. A stellar series of thundering falls surging over wildly wooded cliffs.
 | But as we approached the site, I noticed something which caused me to question whether what I was seeing was normal. As the bus drove over a raised highway towards our destination, I considered how the seemingly endless forest stretching about and below us had no solid ground that I could see, for filling the space between the trunks and branches was a flood, densely saturated with the clay-like soils that made up the earth here. Those great cascades and the rivers that fed them were bloated and browned by the rampage of recent rains that had fallen, and much of the entire region that might have typically been (comparatively) dry was under the rust-tinted flood waters. |
As a matter of additional (albeit unrequested insight) let it be known that I am actively working on and making progress in the area of avoiding disappointments created by unfounded expectations.
I don't mean to do it, truly. Yet when something is presented to me (even just the idea of something, like a trip, a meal, a person, a place, a film, etc) I start to think about it in my future. What could it be like? What might it be like? Then, without warning or realization, these thoughts transform into daydreams, which in turn morph into fantasies, where they eventually mature into those most unwelcome expectations that sneak up on me.
I will continue to pursue liberty from this repetitious process, but until then, Iguazu's off color felt like a let down.
I don't mean to do it, truly. Yet when something is presented to me (even just the idea of something, like a trip, a meal, a person, a place, a film, etc) I start to think about it in my future. What could it be like? What might it be like? Then, without warning or realization, these thoughts transform into daydreams, which in turn morph into fantasies, where they eventually mature into those most unwelcome expectations that sneak up on me.
I will continue to pursue liberty from this repetitious process, but until then, Iguazu's off color felt like a let down.
| What awaited me was like a nature's version of dirty dishwater, namely debris-ridden cataracts, discolored sprays, and a kind of caramel-colored river, not unlike the one which churned chocolate in Willy Wonka’s candy factory. So not only did I not get my much-desired blue-and-green shots, but I was really craving a Snickers bar... |  |
I was disappointed. I admit it. And rather than attempt to appreciate the rarity of the occasion (floods like this hadn't happened in recent memory, according to locals, making it a markedly rare event), I told myself I could fix it in Photoshop later. As you can see, I did not. Yet it was nothing a little black and white rendering couldn’t mask, and I must say I did take a liking to the dramatic results of the monochromatic final products.
And even if I didn't, it was a blessing just to be there and see it, no matter the color scheme.
And even if I didn't, it was a blessing just to be there and see it, no matter the color scheme.
Those who have also trekked here can attest that as one travels from ledge to ledge of the enormous jungle, striving to find a better, wetter outlook, it’s quickly apparent that the trees are already occupied.
Plush-crested jays and long-schnozed coatis (a kind of cute lovechild from a monkey-anteater-raccoon romance) inhabit the branches and boughs, entirely unafraid of the two-legged travelers who walk the paths through their forest.
Clearly, however, there have been…. altercations, in the past. Signs are commonly seen dissuading humans from feeding these pointy-toothed, sharp-clawed cuties (some postings even feature a grotesque photograph of a coati bite in the torn remains of soft, pink man-flesh… Ew).
Clearly, however, there have been…. altercations, in the past. Signs are commonly seen dissuading humans from feeding these pointy-toothed, sharp-clawed cuties (some postings even feature a grotesque photograph of a coati bite in the torn remains of soft, pink man-flesh… Ew).
 |  |
Butterflies flit about everywhere, also undeterred by the invading, camera-wielding crowds.
Some silly people run away from them (afraid of what? I haven’t the faintest idea…) while others aggressively try to catch them (some wings, sadly, did not survive the clumsy, crushing grips of less-than-careful children and insensitive adults) and others still take the peaceful road, permitting the graceful bug-birds a chance to flutter about and land where they will, frequently on a head or hand where they would probe pollen-less skin before deciding there was no nectar to be found and fly on.
Some silly people run away from them (afraid of what? I haven’t the faintest idea…) while others aggressively try to catch them (some wings, sadly, did not survive the clumsy, crushing grips of less-than-careful children and insensitive adults) and others still take the peaceful road, permitting the graceful bug-birds a chance to flutter about and land where they will, frequently on a head or hand where they would probe pollen-less skin before deciding there was no nectar to be found and fly on.
While on the subject of fauna, I also decided to toss into this post a mogwai-looking marmoset I found closer to Rio de Janeiro (see more in my post to follow this one!) just because they are so darned precious!
Those little devils really seemed to me like a pretty solid closer for this post... A wittle, bitty, ultra-cute incentive for YOU to get out there and make your own difference!
For information how to help us on our way, see our How to Help page for more!
Explore the world. Make it better.
Although we did not manage to find a family to interview until Buenos Aires, we still have people to thank!
First among them is our host and dear friend Paulita. A gem and a human inspiration, this angel spoke softly and powerfully, and I could feel changes happening within me in response.
Muchisimas gracias, amiga querida. Please, por favor, come to see us when we return home! I truly want to pay your kindness in due time.
Muchisimas gracias, amiga querida. Please, por favor, come to see us when we return home! I truly want to pay your kindness in due time.
Also, to Daniel’s friend and anonymous donor, you merit ENORMOUS gratitude and true blessings. We could not (seriously, could NOT) finish this without you.
 |  |
I also want to thank my family. Yes, I have in the past, and I will again. Each of them deserve it. Daniel for his patience, Brandon for his example, Laura for her light, Briana for her strength, Sal for his passion, Gavin for his spirit, Tyner for her resilience, Madeline for her soul, Lily for her grace, Nana for her legacy, Nancy for her loyalty, Keith for his courage, Vicki for her joy, Juli for her acceptance, and especially my parents for their applaudable support and generosity (they never did ask that I reimburse my childhood debt accrued since birth), my papa for his well-earned wisdom, his misfiring charm, and his remarkable progress as a human being, and to my dearly beloved mother, for her virtuous choices, her humbling sacrifices, and her undying and life-changing love. There is more, there always will be, but this is for now, not forever.
As mentioned, we did eventually meet a family to interview for Argentina, although it wound up waiting until Buenos Aires!
This current section of Argentina served more as a glimpse into the dusty, delicate rural life that still lives in the Northwestern corner of the country, and the fertile, forested majesty of natural wonders that fills the North East. Even still, that was only a fraction of the country. We still had to see the capital, and the wild Patagonian frontier. But first, we took a trip through South America’s Portuguese-speaking big-boy, host of the 2016 World Olympics, and the sole subject of my next post: Brasil.
This current section of Argentina served more as a glimpse into the dusty, delicate rural life that still lives in the Northwestern corner of the country, and the fertile, forested majesty of natural wonders that fills the North East. Even still, that was only a fraction of the country. We still had to see the capital, and the wild Patagonian frontier. But first, we took a trip through South America’s Portuguese-speaking big-boy, host of the 2016 World Olympics, and the sole subject of my next post: Brasil.
Like the photography?
There is more to see than a post has room for!
Click the links and take a gander at the internal gallery or Instagram account!
LOVE it? Visit Daniel's store here!
There is more to see than a post has room for!
Click the links and take a gander at the internal gallery or Instagram account!
LOVE it? Visit Daniel's store here!
| Don't forget to visit on Facebook and Twitter! | |
So... Where were we????