Monday, March 30, 2009

Mendoza, Marzo 27, 2009






A few days past one week and it seems I have little time to look back and see my shadow. I have gotten into a mode of hurry and too much to do. Hard to fit in here in Mendoza where nunca are in a hurry. The town, quite literally shuts down for siesta at 2:00 and does not reopen until around 5:00. Some, including banks, don´t reopen until the next day. Sunday looks like the streets when the sherif (gary cooper) has to face the bad guys at High Noon. People don´t eat until 9 or 10:00 at night. Even the bodegas (wineries) wait on the wine to be "ready". The only hurry here is the vehiculos, which it seems is a world wide problem.

The town is not all that conspicuous. The orginal town was destroyed in the 1800´s by an earthquake, and even though it dates back to the 1500´s there is really nothing of that age to see. One captivating characteristic is that every street I have seen so far is lined with trees. It gives a very pleasant feel, despite the otherwise strange mixture of residential and business property side by side. My house here sits between a bodega on the back side and a hospital on the front. Yet, it is a nice house with others equally pleasant around. But, this is the way of Latin America, based on my limited experience. The concept of segregated areas for business, industry and residential just does not seem to exit to any great extent. I am not sure I can really make any generalizations of Mendoza. It exceeds one million in population, and my teachers say equally balanced economically. Besides the lack of hurry, the extreme enjoyment of eating or drinking amongst friends in afternoon or evening, and the numerous parks with statures of heroes, the only other consistent obsevation I can make is sidewalk sweeping. Every time I walk to class or return home, I pass a number of locals sweeping the sidewalks. The sidewalks here are very wide I should add, in a positive way, providing room to park vehicles ON the sidewalk as well as avoid the numerous people that are coming and going in this town. Not sure if it is a pride thing or what. It just seems quite common.

Mis classes are going well enough, and I have almost recaptured my prior year loss after being in the states post-Ecuador. My instructors are young, enthusiastic, patient, and doing well with this slow learner. Mi madre is wonderful. She feeds me far too well (at 9:00), enough that I generally skip any mid-day meal. Diet here is mostly carne, old fashioned red meat. Lots of red meat. I believe barbecue is the national occupation. Not much vegetable, except for tomatoes, with a finish of fruit.

Drink of course is vino, or mate. Mate is a herbal type of tea, pretty bitter, sucked through a barbillo (straw), I guess to temper any urge to gulp. The afternoons are very much devoted to mate consumption. Why not, ´cause the stores aren´t open. When the tour guides drink mate on the job, you get an idea of its popularity. Besides the straw the container is special as well, looking like a small honey pot that would make Winnie the Pooh very happy. Wine also is a big favorite, as this area is one of the largest wine producers worldwide and the most important wine region in all of Latin America. Check out Malbec types from Argentina. I am not much into wine, so I cannot help too much. I did go on a small wine tour to watch the process. How easy it is. You grow grapes, you pick grapes, you squash grapes, you collect the grape juice and let it sit for a long time. I preferred the olive oil factory instead as Mendoza is also a big olive growing region. Olives I can understand. Much better for my palette. You can get beer here also, but the typical size for native beer is about two liters worth. Not sure I could find my way home afterward. When I asked for una cerveza pèquena the waiter brought me a Corona. Geez.

My other excursion this week was into the mountains to the east of the city. I have not been anything but hot since my arrival in Argentina. Air conditioning is not typical for the average household, including mine. But, you deal with it. However, the trip into the mountains was at least a temporary release. There were essentially three destinations, with a few other brief stops along the way. The most important draw to me was closeness to Cerro (Mt) Aconcagua. This is the highest mountain outside of Asia. As I saw it in the distance for the first time as we were leaving Mendoza I was not that much impressed, thinking how funny it does not look that high from here. Even further into our voyage the same thoughts ocurred. But, when we got as close as we were going to get it took hold. My gosh, it IS WAY UP THERE. Imagine standing on the highest mountain in Colorado, then having to climb over a mile and one-half FURTHER UP! Atmospheric pressure up there is about 40 percent of that at sea level.Yet, supposedly, despite cover of snow and ice year around, there is one route that is considered easy. I guess the over 100 dead at failed attempts should have considered the easier route.

At the further distance our tour climbed up to see the statue of Cristo Redentor de los Andes (Christ the Redeemer). It stands on the border between Chile and Argentina. I can now say I have been in three South American countries. The statue was built as a peace symbol between the two countries after border dispute between the two was settled. The metal statue is made from melted arms used by the two. Not sure why either would care too much over a few extra feet at these altitudes. The statue itself stands at just under 13,000 feet. Glad I have no desires to paint at such heights. However, the view of Aconcagua was very impressive from there, as were many of the Andes peaks that lay around.

The final significant stop was on the return as we stopped to observe a natural bridge undercut by a river in creation. Not sure how it was created for there was no other journey for the water. Once it hit here it had to do something, and there is no evidence of any other escape route. It also has hot springs here, sulfur fed, giving an interesting yellowish tint to the rocks. The bridge was once used by the Inca in their trades. Oh, one of the other short stops was a man-made bridge by San Martin, one of the South American heroes that paired with Simon Bolivar to gain freedom from the Spanish.

This will be last week in Mendoza, and next to Bariloche, to be even further into the mountains. I am somewhat excited about that journey and hopes are high. Therefore, despite the pushing and hurrying, I suppose for now I shall maintain my course, work on the spanish, encounter what I can and return with memories. And, if at all possible, "will" myself to release and let go just a bit more and be carried along.

The wing and the wind they carry things along
Whether its me that does the leaving
Or a love that flies away.
The moon outside my window looks so lovely tonight
There is a chunk out of its middle
Big enough for an old fool (me) to hide.
Where are all the dreamers that I used to know
We used to lean out neath the streetlights
With our hallos in the smoke.
The wing and the wind they carried them away
Now they all live out in the suburbs
Where their dreams are in the children at play.
There is a pale sky in the east
And the stars are in the west
Here is to all the dreamers
May our open hearts find rest.
(N. Griffith)

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