Dog Walkers in Buenow Aires

I was trying to get a good photo of a dog walker, but this was the best I could get. In Buenos Aires, dog walkers are professionals. You will often see one strolling down the street with twenty to thirty dogs on leashes. It is amazing that they do not all become tangled. Not only do these walkers take the dogs out twice a day but are also responsible for grooming and watching for illness. Many of them have vetinary training. Apparently, the owners are responsible for their pets on weekends. I guess it is true... dogs are the new accessory.

Galleria Pacifica

This a photo of the ceiling in one of the shopping malls in Buenow Aires. Pretty cool, huh?

Argentinians love their flowers. Everywhere you look there is a kiosk crammed with bouquets of fresh cut flowers. When I walk by a get that scent from my childhood of busy seasons at my parents flower shops. The memories come flooding back.

I wonder what the vendors do with the left over flowers at the end of the day? They can't leave them in the street. What a LOT of work.

Auntie Donna, you should be here in beautiful Buenos Aires with your shop.

Street Tango

Tango is everywhere in Argentina, even on the streets. These photos are taken of dancers on Avenida Florida where a number of busker types spend the day performing and then passing the hat for tips. Unlike many other buskers that I have seen in other places, they do not intimidate for money but present the hat only to people with their hand held toward it who obviously want to make a donation.

These dancers were setting up when I walked by at 9:30 a.m. and when I returned at 4:00 in the afternoon they were still dancing. It was as hot as Hades and I was perspiring just watching them. Just look at the heels the girls have on! Can you imagine spending the day in those babies? If you look closely, you can see that both girls are wearing support stockings and I would not be a bit suprised if the gentleman is as well.

The dancing was incredible.

Communicating

I walked into a tiny cafe on a side street yesterday. It appealed to me because it was filled with local people and it seemed very alive. In a place like that you get a true feeling for the culture and the food. The waiter could not speak on word of english and when he gave me the menu he kept jabbing at one item, berenjena rellenas. For all I knew he was trying to tell me it was sold out. We could not communicate so after a couple of minutes of struggle between us he walked over to a neighbouring table where the customer was just about to cut into his food, whisked the plate from under him and brought it over to show me. The diner just sat there with his fork and knife poised and mouth wide open in astonishment. Oh... to have snapped a photo of that expression.

I did order it. It turned out to be grilled eggplant stuffed with ground meat and coated with tomato sauce and cheese. Mmmmmmmmmmmm!

Humidity in Buenos Aires

It was raining when I ventured out this morning. It seemed cooler and people were dressed for the weather so off I went in jeans, loose cotton blouse, sneakers... oh, and socks. Being from Newfoundland I thought that I was a pro on humidity. Bahahahahahah! The only way I can describe it is that I feel like a popsicle on a hot summer day. I am a puddle of orange slop!

Footloose and Fancy Free in Buenos Aires

So... here I am in Buenos Aires again. Sean is at work ( everybody together... Poooooor Sean) and I am on holiday. BA is the second largest city in South America, after Sao Paulo, Brazil, and boasts a population of 13 million people. That is more than half of the population of all of Canada. The above photo is of Florida (pronounced Floreeda) Avenue. One million people per day stroll along this cobblestone street. To put that in economic terms, imagine if every one of them spent one dollar! Kind of puts it in perspective, huh?

I am OBVIOUSLY a tourist. To begin with I am wearing more clothes (in my shorts and polo shirt) than any other women in the city, secondly, I am not holding a cigarette and the Birkenstocks are a dead giveaway.... nothing less than 3" stillettos here! It would be just as well for me to be holding a neon sign saying 'Rip Me Off'. Everthing I buy is at least 10 pesos more than it is for the porteno. (Porteno's, or 'people of the port' are what Argentinians refer to themselves as.) It is baking hot here. And, humid. Like being wrapped in a warm, wet blanket.

The men here are beautiful. No other way of describing them. Sean keeps talking about all of the beautiful women and commenting that the men do not equal their counterparts in appearance. He is obviously blind. They are GORGEOUS! The women, too, are very beautiful and I do not understand how they can navigate on the loose cobblestones on those heels.

I love to 'people watch'... I could sit in the cafes for hours and just watch the world walk by.

Farming in Northern Argentina

How much would the food that this man is growing cost if it were grown in the same manner in Canada? We could not afford to eat! It is time that we all were aware of the true value of the food we eat.

Gaucho Gil

Along the sides of the highways, all over South America, there are memorials built to remember loved ones who have been killed at that site. Most are small but some are quite large and expensive looking. Many of them are visited daily and adorned with fresh flowers.



While driving thru northern Argentina I noticed a number of sites that were decorated with red flags and what looks like barbecues. These areas did not look like a typical shrine and I was bewildered as to what they could possibly be. Most were around very large shade trees and the entire tree would be decorated with large red flags that could be seen from a distance. I thought they must be 'Stop and Barbecue' sites.



After much digging I finally have the answer. They are memorials to a gaucho, Antonio Mamerto Gil Nunez, more commonly known as Gaucho Gil. Gaucho Gil was a desserter of the military here in Argentina and spent his life on the run, robbing from the rich and giving to the poor. He is revered as a sort of 'defacto' saint. The story goes that when he was finally caught he informed his exucutioner that if he were to go thru with his dirty deed the man's son would become deathly ill and that the only way he could be cured was by giving Gil a proper burial. The exucutioner went ahead with his job and found on arriving home that evening, that his son was, indeed, very ill. He returned to the exucution site, buried Gil and the story goes that his son did in fact return to good health.

I do not know exactly how much of this story is true, however, Gaucho Gil was in fact exucuted on January 8, 1878. His shrines exist all over Argentina and people still stop and leave fresh water, wine and even meals for their beloved Gaucho Gil.

Images from around Purmamarca and Humahuaca

Build the house around the dirt and dig it out after.

How do you like the hand brake?

Fred Flintstone's house.

Some of the mountains were green while the others are pink and mustard colour while others are green. The contrast was magnificent.

I sure wished I had a better camera here. I just could not capture the beauty of these rocks.

The Artisans of Purmamarca

Some of the sheep and llama yarn that was for sale.

Hand woven rugs in a shop in Purmamarca.

This post is for my friends who love fibre as much as I do. This place is an artisans paradise. The pottery, wood work and weaving are out of this world. These photos were taken in the far north of Argentina. We visited two towns, Purmamarca and Humahuaca the drive to which was unforgettable. The latter of these two towns is one of the last before the final stretch to Bolivia and the Bolivian influence is strongly felt both in the crafts we saw and the dress of the people living there. I have spent my time in northern Argentina, with my nose deep into any ball of wool that I have seen. It is all homespun, mostly on drop spindles, and the lanolin scent is still strong. I had to by a new tote to carry all of the sheep and llama yarn that I have purchased. I am afraid I got a little greedy. Now all I have to do is find the time to work with it when I get home.

Driving and Marriage

I am perfectly happy to critisize Sean's driving from the passenger seat. I kind of enjoy having a chaffeur whilst I sit back and enjoy the scenery. He got sick of that and finally decided that I should drive, halfway along the #9 from Salta to Jujuy. This road is a series of 'S' turns, closely spaced in dense rainforest (named that way because it pours rain!) that consists of 1 1/2 lanes, altho there are two lanes of traffic. On one side there is steep drop with no gaurd rail... on the other it goes straight up the mountainside. There is barely a spot to pull over let alone change drivers! He complained that his fingers were numb, probably from gripping the wheel for dear life! I had not yet driven the car and, there I was, behind the wheel trying to figure out where the gears and the wipers were whilst avoiding uncoming traffic in MY lane, in pouring rain with a death sentence just waiting on the passenger side of the road. It was tenuous to say the least. The interesing part was that I did not have to brake nearly as much from the drivers seat as I did from the passengers and I was actually able to increase my speed by 10 klicks. We have decided that we like being married to one another so in future, I will drive... Sean will navigate. This is how it shall be. Who was it that said that the Thistle girls like control?

Scenery outside Cafayate

This moment brought back memories of traveling to Parson's Pond when I was a young un. Back then the wildlife were sheep and there was no pavement. Not that there is a lot of freaking pavement here.... I just happened to capture some in this photo.

In real life these colours are magnificent. I wish I could somehow portray how they should actually look.

Okay.... so my camera has a crappy owner. I can't make these photos look like they are supposed to. There are far too many settings for someone who does not deal well with technology. And, yes, that little blob is the same one that was on my camera when I was in India. It followed me all the way to South America.

Folk festival in Cafayate

This photo was taken from our hotel window at 6:00 in the morning. The party was still going strong!

Martha must have known that I was an 'early to bed and early to rise' person when I booked in. I went into her hotel to ask about vacancies and between broken English and sign language she let me know that it was the most important weekend of the year with the folk festival taking place. She warned me that I would not get any sleep. The music started at 11:30pm and ended at 6:30 am. It could be heard for miles around. I do not know how Argentinians cope... they to not seem to sleep. Martha was wrong, tho. I slept like someone dead. The few times I did regain conciousness, I thought the music was damn good!

Regrets

When I am on my deathbed and I am asked about my regrets in life, I know EXACTLY what my response will be. I will forever rue the day that I did not get a photo of the enormous spider that was just crossing the double line on the highway when I spotted it. It was the size of my freaking hand! No more peeing in the bushes for me!

Wineries in Cafayate

I just cannot seem to get away from work! These plants were dripping with grapes!

Cafayate boasts the highest vineyards and wineries in the world. The town is a comfortable and friendly place that is surrounded by vineyards. It was difficult to decide which one to visit. We settled on San Pedro, off the beaten track, to the north of the town... mostly because they gave tours in English. We had a private tour and learned much about wine production. We bought a couple of rather expensive bottles, one of which I am now enjoying. The present sampling is called Yacochuya. It is not sold in Canada. To be honest, I was more interested in the growing of the grapes than in the wine production.

Hedging

What do you think of this for a hedge? Think it would be effective at keeping your neighbours on their own property?

Prickly Pear

While sitting in the lobby blogging, Marta stopped to ask if I would like to try some of these prickly pear fruits. As I said, the service here is above and beyond what a customer could ever expect.

This is a prickly pear cactus. The little round fruit like thingies are edible and very sweet. A little like a kiwi with very hard seeds. Sean found it a little too fibrous for his liking.

Luna the Hotel Cat

Here you go, Emmie. A photo of Luna for you. I think that you should have a kitty in your shop. Thanx for posting a comment. It is nice to hear from friends. It is comfoting to know that my world is still alive and well.

Martha

Here is Martha, the owner of the hotel, sweeping the rain off the lobby floor so that nobody slips.
She truly does take part in every aspect of running this fabulous hotel. I have never seen such attention to detail.

Hotel Killa

We arrived in Caffeyete yesterday afternoon. Sean is sick of being a Bohemian so we comprimised on a hotel. I think we picked the best one in town. Actually, I think we picked the best one in the whole world! It is privately owned by a woman named Martha. She is a typical independant business owner... works 100 hours a day. She is here when we get up and she is here when we go to bed. She works seven days a week. She takes part in every aspect of running this business from the paperwork to the sweeping. She and I have been comiserating! It has paid off for her, tho. This place is immaculate! It is the most tasteful hotel I have ever seen. Every room is decorated with local crafts. The garden is immaculate and the breakfast is to die for. It even has a cat! Luna. Here are some photos of the garden and the lobby area. I have not yet figured out how to post the photos properly so I apologise for the poor lay out.

Argentinian Gaurd Rail

HA! I think that these little one foot high rocks are supposed to slow you down so that you can enjoy the ride on the way down.

Native people of Northern Argentina

We visited a shop in Taffe de Valle that represented local Artisans. It was run by a weaver and painter who was a wealth of information. He educated me on the history of the native people of northern Argentina .I think they are the Queche but the language barrier has me unsure of myself. I shall have to do some reading.

These people lived here in peace long before Christ and before Europeans conquered them. Many of the items in the shop are exact replicas of everyday items that the Queche used and he weaves garments that were worn at that time. The clothing consists or a rectangular cloth with two armholes about 1/3 of the way down the rectangle and can be worn in seven different styles. The most fascinating being the style worn when these people were approaching a new village. At those times, the men wore the garment covering both shoulders while women only covered one. In this way the village knew who was approaching... if they were all men, they should be prepared for battle... if there were women in the group it could be considered a friendly visit.



There was cheese being sold here that was made in the way cheese was made throughout history. When a cow was killed its stomach was removed, tied at the top and hung in a kitchen for three years. Kitchens here use wood fires and all of the smoke goes to the ceiling where the stomach is hung, curing it. The acidbifullus from the stomach goes to work and at that point my understanding of his broken english fell to the wayside and I am not sure what happened next. The stomach was taken down after the three years and soaked in hot water before being strained thru a seive, into fresh milk. The still active bacteria went to work in the milk until cheese was formed. The cheese was delicious!


We purchased a number of things in this little shop but the most valuable thing we took away was the education. Sorry... I didn't take any photos.

Paying it Forward

Photo: Taffe de Valle, Argentina


Sean and I try very hard to 'Pay it Forward' in life. In other words, 'Do Unto Others'. We are not perfect but we do our best to treat people the way we would like to be treated. Daddy, I know if you are reading this you are saying that 'self praise is no recommendation' but I am not trying to make us look like saints. My point is that we have just been paid back, with interest for every good dead we have ever done. First of all with Gudie watching the greenhouse, Paige loving my cats, Brucie planning our itinery and Daddy checking the seeds. Yesterday we won the lottery. We stopped at a service station to buy a map to replace the soap bar sized one that the rental agent gave us and I ran in while Sean stayed in the car. I tend to be a little less inhibited when it comes to making a fool of myself using sign language. Sean on the other hand, speaks English with a beautiful Spanish accent assuming the listener can understand every word... and then there is John, Sean's colleague from Ottawa who we will join in BA on Sunday. John just speaks English very loudly. It is hilarious! I love you, John.

I digress. While at the service station I was trying to get my point across to the gentleman behind the counter that I needed a road map of the province of Salta. A man sitting and having a coffee overheard and came to my rescue with impeccable English. It turns out that he too, was headed to Taffe de Valle (pronounced Taffy d Vachay, just to confuse me... the Spanish have still not figured out what to do with those bloody double L's) and told me that I could follow him. My spidy senses tingled and I pictured being led into a cave somewhere, robbed and murdered, never to be found again. Sean came in to see what was taking so long and the three of us got into conversation over a coffee. It turns out he studied agricultural engineering in Minnesota after a short stint of being a forgein exchange student in the U.S. He has returned to Argentina and started a company selling fertilizers and pesticides. He grew up on a sugar plantation near Tucuman. Do you think we had much in common? To top it off, he studied in Tucuman under one of Sean's Model Forest collegues. It is a small world, indeed.





Mariano is still very close to his host family in Minnesota and firmly believes in giving back, the same way that that family gave to him. Bonus for us. Not only did he lead the way to Taffe de Valle, stopping from time to time to see how we were doing, but he gave us a bag of coco leaves to chew on to help prevent altitude sickness and when we arrived showed us a few different places that we could stay before we made our final choice, then came in with us to make sure that we got the best deal. We joined him and his family as well as his close friends for drinks that evening and had an absolutely delightful time. His buddy, Alvero spent time in India working so there was lots to talk about. Between agriculture, politics, India and life in general we passed an unforgettable evening.

Renting a car

Renting a car in a foreign place is a bit like having a baby. When Jesse was born I went in the hospital one day, a free and independent woman. Two days later they put me out on the street completely unprepared for what lay ahead. Hertz did the same thing. We dealt with an agent who could not speak any English and signed a document we did not understand. He gave us the keys and a map half the size of the palm of my hand and turned us out onto one of the busiest streets in Tucuman. Bruce advised us to get an English speaking GPS but there was nothing available. I guess it is not quite like having a child. I am still stumbling thru that.... the car will be returned in a week. The above photo is of our GPS, Mariano.... what do you think of that, Brucie?

Buenos Aires

Sean and I spent Sunday nite at the same hostel we stayed at last time we were here. Portal del Sur has the same warm atmosphere that I remember from last time. The roof top bar where one can catch a breeze is a bonus in that hot, humid city. They now have a travel agency on the third floor where most travel arrangements can be made. Estevan, the chap working there, worked in reception last time we were here. Lucky for him he is sweet or I would choke him. He arrives late, leaves early and spends the day on the rooftop trying to pick up unsuspecting young women. Being a mother I felt it my duty to lecture him on the perils of having many partners. He has promised me that he will spend all of his future tips on condoms. That is a bit of a double edged sword, is it not? Should I wish for him to make lots in tips or not?

We spent our one evening in BA strolling the cobblestone streets of Florida Avenue. We had a fabulous meal in an outdoor cafe while listening to a street player serenading us with blues and jazz from his saxophone. There are things about being in the city that I love.

Tomorrow we take a flight to Tucuman in the north western part of the country and we will begin our travels.

Back in Argentina

This is a photo from my second story office window of our first two greenhouses. The snow is close to level with the window

After much finagling I am back in Argentina. This is Sean's fifth time here but only my second. Somehow Model Forest seems to arrange trips during my busy times at work but luckily I was able to fit this one into my work schedule. I have left my friends and family with the responsibility of tending seedlings shoveling out greenhouses and feeding cats. Thank you Gudie, Paige and Daddy. How would I manage without you?

The trip did not go entirely smoothly. Air Canada has my name flagged in their system and whenever I am traveling they arrange for mechanical difficulty. The flight in Halifax was delayed and I barely made my connection in Toronto. I did make it tho and that is all that counts. Twenty seven hours of traveling and I stepped off a plane to thirty degrees. It was like heaven after the brutal week of shoveling that I had.

I LOVE South America. I love the sing song rhythm of the Spanish language. I love the warmth of the people here. I love the mountains and the incredible scenery. Somewhere in my distant past there must be some South American blood. I feel like I have come home.