Probably because we were getting sick of buses, Jim and I decided to mix it up a bit and take a boat to some islands on Peru´s Lake Titikaka, the world´s largest high altitude lake. Not surprisenly, buses were not a transport option to the islands.
The first islands we stopped at are the very famous and very touristy floating islands of the Uros tribe. Back in the days of the Incas, the Uros tribe made their islands out of roots and mud tied together with about six feet of reeds stacked on top to escape the Incas. The reeds are continually decaying, so the natives have put on a new layer every 20 days or so. The women who showed us around their island wore bright clothes of yellows, oranges, and pinks. When Jim asked them why they wore such bright clothes they answered, ´Oh, because the tourists like them.´
To come to the next island, we rode the boat for three hours, during which we talked, read, and slept. Upon landing, we were met by our host dad, who escorted us to his house for the evening. Our meals all consisted of quenwa soup, potatoes, and vegtables becuase the natives only eat food they can grow on the island. Meat is very rare because it has to come from the mainland, a long boatride away. In the evening we climbed up to the top of the mountain, and then after dinner we dressed up in native gard and went to a party of other grincos dressed up in native gard. We managed to get a family photo before we took off in the morning, a task we thought might not happen because the 4 year old son was constantly running away from his parents and us!
We boarded our boat just past 7 and went to another island. At this island the natives actually wore colorful clothes because that was the custom, not because tourists liked them. Our boat met us on the other side so that we could walk half-way around the island. Just before we boarded we were taken to a restaurant to buy lunch, even though it was only 10:30. We decided to split a dish because of the time and the tourist price we were being charged. When Jim asked them why the lunch cost so much, the guide said because the food had to come from the mainland. But our food consisted of grains and vegtables grown on the island and, or all foods, fish. Considering we were on an island, Jim and I think it very unlikely the fish came from the mainland.
Friday, April 1, 2011
The Adventures of a Peruvian Bus
We kicked off our Peruvian bus adventures with a cool 48-hour bus ride from Buenos Aires to Tacna Peru with one of Argentina´s top bus companies. The first class floor, where we decided to get seats since the ride was so long, had its own steward, dressed in dress clothes and a tie, who made us tea and gave us cookies at random hours of the day. The half-dozen movies were remarkably good and our fellow passengers, a retired couple from Lima, bought us apples after ours were confiscated at Chile border and offered us their spare room whenever we pass through Lima again.
Then we were dropped off in Tacna, Peru´s southernmost city, and our Peruvian bus adventures began. The two señoritas at the front desk gave us directions to the ATM and then when we arrived to board the bus and the waiting room was crowded, they invited us to sit behind the desk with them. We chatted with all of them, I think there were four, for a while, and then the truth came out: one of them thought Seth was cute and wanted to know if he was single.
We played along for another 10 minutes and then boarded the bus. By this time Seth had managed to communicate the idea of "blowing kisses" between his human Spanish dictionary, yours truly, and some expressive pantomime. There were various giggles at this display as we boarded, which escalated to an entirely new level as the bus pulled out, with Seth¨s window in full view of the front office.I´ve never been to a Justin Beiber concert, but I have a feeling the ensuing shrieks that attracted the attention of everyone on the bus, are probably akin to the noises made by similarly-aged girls at such concerts. The analogy is even more apropos since Seth´s still uncut hair is starting to resemble that of young Beiber.
The bus ride was a little cold, but not terribly awful except for the incredibly monotonous movie about British fighting Zulus. We arrived in Puno around 3:30 am, spent a few hours on a hotel floor, and shoved off for a 2-day tour of the indigenous islands. Upon our return, we acted on the suggestion of one of our fellow tourists and asked to pay for 2nd class but sit in 1st class.
Once again, the señorita was very friendly and gave us the desired upgrade. She also had lots of questions about our lives and home ... including whether or not we were single. In retrospect, it may have turned out better if she had been less effusive. The bus was hands down the worst bus we´ve ever ridden in--the seats did not recline all the way, the leg rests were too short, the seats were too narrow for first class, the gears screamed every time we hit 3rd gear and the toilet hole dumped directly onto the road.
Surprisingly we slept a little bit and haven´t been too tired in our first day working outside Cusco. We laid out a field for reforestation and tomorrow we´ll start digging holes. We´re looking forward to our 2 weeks in this area, which should give us enough time to prepare for the next bus ...
Then we were dropped off in Tacna, Peru´s southernmost city, and our Peruvian bus adventures began. The two señoritas at the front desk gave us directions to the ATM and then when we arrived to board the bus and the waiting room was crowded, they invited us to sit behind the desk with them. We chatted with all of them, I think there were four, for a while, and then the truth came out: one of them thought Seth was cute and wanted to know if he was single.
We played along for another 10 minutes and then boarded the bus. By this time Seth had managed to communicate the idea of "blowing kisses" between his human Spanish dictionary, yours truly, and some expressive pantomime. There were various giggles at this display as we boarded, which escalated to an entirely new level as the bus pulled out, with Seth¨s window in full view of the front office.I´ve never been to a Justin Beiber concert, but I have a feeling the ensuing shrieks that attracted the attention of everyone on the bus, are probably akin to the noises made by similarly-aged girls at such concerts. The analogy is even more apropos since Seth´s still uncut hair is starting to resemble that of young Beiber.
The bus ride was a little cold, but not terribly awful except for the incredibly monotonous movie about British fighting Zulus. We arrived in Puno around 3:30 am, spent a few hours on a hotel floor, and shoved off for a 2-day tour of the indigenous islands. Upon our return, we acted on the suggestion of one of our fellow tourists and asked to pay for 2nd class but sit in 1st class.
Once again, the señorita was very friendly and gave us the desired upgrade. She also had lots of questions about our lives and home ... including whether or not we were single. In retrospect, it may have turned out better if she had been less effusive. The bus was hands down the worst bus we´ve ever ridden in--the seats did not recline all the way, the leg rests were too short, the seats were too narrow for first class, the gears screamed every time we hit 3rd gear and the toilet hole dumped directly onto the road.
Surprisingly we slept a little bit and haven´t been too tired in our first day working outside Cusco. We laid out a field for reforestation and tomorrow we´ll start digging holes. We´re looking forward to our 2 weeks in this area, which should give us enough time to prepare for the next bus ...
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
The Wedding Feast
Please don´t think the only thing we liked about the wedding at the Tribe of Issachar was the food. I actually think the tribesmen, if that is an appropriate term, would approve of the characterization of their ceremony as a "wedding feast." They try to mimic the book of Revelations in their wedding ceremony, with the groom playing the role of Christ and the bride that of the church. The marriage supper of the Lamb is a celebration feast that celebrates the victory over the forces of evil.
We were helping make up plate of appetizers when the groom arrived, clothed in white and accompanied by three companions, also wearing white robes. After mingling for a few minutes, the groom took his seat on his emerald throne, formerly the easy chair in the music room, and the festivities began. First was a skit where Christ, played by the groom, spoke of his longing for his bride to overcome her adversaries. His companions, who turned out to be the Apostle John, the prophet Daniel, and Abraham. After a while of recallining biblical prophecies, a messenger arrived to say the bride was ready.
We all moved over to the platform the stood about 6 feet off the ground. After a few words from one of the elders, the groom yelled for his bride and she came running out of the house and up the ramp to meet the groom. The bride and the groom had been separated for a week and the excitement in both their faces and demeanors overshadowed any corniness potentially inherent in this type of bridal entry.
With the bride and groom now firmly holding hands, something they did for the rest of the afternoon, the dance of the overcomers was performed. Most of the community members participated in one of their traditional dances, specially prepared for the occasion. A few representing evil, clustered in the middle. They wore black hooded robes, each painted with a different sin--rebellion and love of money are the two I remember. Different statements were hurled between the twirling circle and the miscreants wandering in the center, but the good finally triumped and the black hoods were left lying on the ground as we moved off for the rest of the dances.
The bride had a dance for the groom and the groom likewise. The children also had a dance and after a few more appropriate words, we moved the tables onto the dance circle under the shade of the giant tree and the feast began. Everyone was served a giant tender piece of lamb along with potatoes and bread baked the day before by yours truly. In the interests of full disclosure, I measured the flour and then cut the dough into little pieces, but I see that as an essential part of the baking process, hence "baked by yours truly." On the subject of disclosure, both Seth and I were offered a second plate, which we accepted with great eagerness. Eating only beans and rice for the week previous made us very grateful and appreciative for any sort of meat--and this lamb was exceptional, so it was easy to find room for all the lonely pieces.
After the dinner finished, the bride and groom both sang songs to honor their parents, with parts in Spanish, French, and Russian to express their different ethnicities. The bride´s parents had emigrated from Ukraine and Keli´s mother was French, so he learned that as well as Spanish growing up in Argentina. After this, they said their vows, which were more of a free and sincere expression of what they believed they were doing by making a marriage covenant with the other and were married.
The craziest part was that we accompanied them to their new house on the property and sang a song as they closed the door. Seth and I couldn´t believe it--but since they were married ...
We were helping make up plate of appetizers when the groom arrived, clothed in white and accompanied by three companions, also wearing white robes. After mingling for a few minutes, the groom took his seat on his emerald throne, formerly the easy chair in the music room, and the festivities began. First was a skit where Christ, played by the groom, spoke of his longing for his bride to overcome her adversaries. His companions, who turned out to be the Apostle John, the prophet Daniel, and Abraham. After a while of recallining biblical prophecies, a messenger arrived to say the bride was ready.
We all moved over to the platform the stood about 6 feet off the ground. After a few words from one of the elders, the groom yelled for his bride and she came running out of the house and up the ramp to meet the groom. The bride and the groom had been separated for a week and the excitement in both their faces and demeanors overshadowed any corniness potentially inherent in this type of bridal entry.
With the bride and groom now firmly holding hands, something they did for the rest of the afternoon, the dance of the overcomers was performed. Most of the community members participated in one of their traditional dances, specially prepared for the occasion. A few representing evil, clustered in the middle. They wore black hooded robes, each painted with a different sin--rebellion and love of money are the two I remember. Different statements were hurled between the twirling circle and the miscreants wandering in the center, but the good finally triumped and the black hoods were left lying on the ground as we moved off for the rest of the dances.
The bride had a dance for the groom and the groom likewise. The children also had a dance and after a few more appropriate words, we moved the tables onto the dance circle under the shade of the giant tree and the feast began. Everyone was served a giant tender piece of lamb along with potatoes and bread baked the day before by yours truly. In the interests of full disclosure, I measured the flour and then cut the dough into little pieces, but I see that as an essential part of the baking process, hence "baked by yours truly." On the subject of disclosure, both Seth and I were offered a second plate, which we accepted with great eagerness. Eating only beans and rice for the week previous made us very grateful and appreciative for any sort of meat--and this lamb was exceptional, so it was easy to find room for all the lonely pieces.
After the dinner finished, the bride and groom both sang songs to honor their parents, with parts in Spanish, French, and Russian to express their different ethnicities. The bride´s parents had emigrated from Ukraine and Keli´s mother was French, so he learned that as well as Spanish growing up in Argentina. After this, they said their vows, which were more of a free and sincere expression of what they believed they were doing by making a marriage covenant with the other and were married.
The craziest part was that we accompanied them to their new house on the property and sang a song as they closed the door. Seth and I couldn´t believe it--but since they were married ...
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Here Comes the Wedding
To provide some variety, we are writing this post together.
Fortunately in the midst of all these misadventures, we get lots of snacks. Most of the men start working around 8:30 and continue until past midnight. Even 12-year-old-Issachar (jokingly referred to by the other children as "Is A Car") was up putting up lights until 2:20am last night! Needless to say we don't stay up quite that late helping out, but when the night shift starts after dinner, we usually help out until at least a few snacks have been served. On one memorable occasion, Inhemia (that might be how you spell his name, which means "Comfort of God" in Hebrew) was explaining what I was going to do in Spanish when the snack arrived. He abruptly switched to English (which he only shouts) and said "now drink mate and eat cookies!"
Yesterday we made a 5 benches out of new wood and old metal from defunct park benches. I'm not going to lie--they turned out pretty well. As we put the finished benches outside the workshop, all sorts of people would stop to try them out and say "Que lindo!" (which means "how beautiful") and thank us profusely. The traffic became so noticeable that one of our 12-year-old sidekicks suggested we start charging admission!
The custom at the Twelve Tribes is to not allow the bride and groom to see each other for week before their wedding. The guy with whom we share our house, who is the groom, had someone take the screen off his window because the house door can be seen from the bride's window. Jim even macheted a path through the hedge (not the one he drove into) for the groom. Now he will come flying through the window and land with a loud thud on the floor anytime, regardless of whether or not it is pitch black.
We have heard of several other wedding customs that sound very interesting. Before we write about them, however, we are waiting to see them so that we don't judge to quickly.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Exodus in Argentina
Jim and I were raking grass the other day and it reminded me of a comment he had made a while ago on the last farm. We were doing another miserable and boring job and he had said, "Seth, I think being a WWOOFer is a lot like being a slave. We aren't paid and we have to do as we are told." After some thought I had to agree, especially when we began making bricks out of clay and horse manure. We seemed to have step right out of the book of Exodus: we were living in a another land making bricks for the 'ruler.'
Fortunately, however, our situation is better than a Siberian concentration camp. According to Jim, who is reading a book about a Siberian concentration camp, the oppressed people there had to get up at 5; we only have to get up at 6:40 (although it feels like 5). Instead of working 10 hour days, we only have to work a 7 hour day. We also can eat as much as we desire at meals, unlike the those in the concentration camp who had to work extra hard for an extra 6 oz. of bread. I don't think they had much bread to begin with either.
So all in all, among the many places we have seen and the many things we have done, Jim and I can also add the experience of slavery to our travel resume. But lest you think us ungrateful, we do appreciate the experience we are gaining working with our hands. As a note to those in the United States who had the thought of making a list of things for us to do, please keep in mind that what happens in Argentina, stays in Argentina.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
The Wedding Crashers
Greetings from the Tribe of Issachar, a member of the Twelve Tribes Christian communes, a Christian community about an hour outside the city of Buenos Aires.
In case you think we've gone totally loco, rest assured that "Issachar" has visitors all the time who help around the farm and the bakery, most of whom are just looking for farming experience.
Right now there are about 40 people, with 20 more due to arrive tomorrow from the beach, who work in the kitchen preparing the food, in the garden growing food to eat and sell, baking bread, doing landscaping work around the community, and for the next two weeks, preparing feverishly for their first wedding. It's the day we originally planned to leave, but this is a BIG deal here, so we're definitely going to stay.
The groom is my roommate, a serious bearded Argentine who speaks very good English. He's been a member of the community for about 10 years, as has his fiancée, who's from Ukraine. Tomorrow I think I'm going to help him tile the bathroom in his new house, which will give us lots of time to talk more about the community.
From what we have learned so far, they try to model their community after the early church and have all things in common. The money they earn is put into a communal pot and whenever someone needs something it is procured, either independently if it's a small thing, or through the approval of a council if it is a larger item.
We're having a good time so far and Seth, I think, is a potential Martin Luther for the Twelve Tribes. His planned reformations include meat everyday and an optional 7am meeting (it's mandatory right now), with closed-circuit television for those who want to "participate" while remaining in bed.
We'll keep you posted on the wedding preparations (11 days to go!) and on other potential reformations.
In case you think we've gone totally loco, rest assured that "Issachar" has visitors all the time who help around the farm and the bakery, most of whom are just looking for farming experience.
Right now there are about 40 people, with 20 more due to arrive tomorrow from the beach, who work in the kitchen preparing the food, in the garden growing food to eat and sell, baking bread, doing landscaping work around the community, and for the next two weeks, preparing feverishly for their first wedding. It's the day we originally planned to leave, but this is a BIG deal here, so we're definitely going to stay.
The groom is my roommate, a serious bearded Argentine who speaks very good English. He's been a member of the community for about 10 years, as has his fiancée, who's from Ukraine. Tomorrow I think I'm going to help him tile the bathroom in his new house, which will give us lots of time to talk more about the community.
From what we have learned so far, they try to model their community after the early church and have all things in common. The money they earn is put into a communal pot and whenever someone needs something it is procured, either independently if it's a small thing, or through the approval of a council if it is a larger item.
We're having a good time so far and Seth, I think, is a potential Martin Luther for the Twelve Tribes. His planned reformations include meat everyday and an optional 7am meeting (it's mandatory right now), with closed-circuit television for those who want to "participate" while remaining in bed.
We'll keep you posted on the wedding preparations (11 days to go!) and on other potential reformations.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Hitchhiking: Harder Than It Looks
It's a quiet Saturday night in Buenos Aires, so a retrospective at our first "successful" hitchhiking adventure is in order.
One of the other volunteers had a problem with his leg, so we hitched a ride from the estancia into sleepy town of Gobernator Gregores. Pauline dropped us off with our bags and some food and told us she'd come back in 3 hours to see if we were still there. The traffic was quite sparse, maybe a car every 5-10 minutes, and so thumbing was slow, but fun. Most of the drivers would react, giving us various signals that seemed to indicate they weren't going that far or were returning to town.
After about 40 minutes, a guy in a small car stopped and asked where we were going. We told him several times and he had no idea what we were talking about. After 4 or 5 times repeating "El Calafate" at various speeds, we tried varying the pronunciation which did the trick: we were saying the name incorrectly.
Unfortunately, Antonio, our friendly traveler, did not speak slow Spanish and we did not understand where he was going. He did say that we could get some kind of a bus from where he'd leave us to El Calafate. We hopped in the and 2 hour journey over gravel roads began.
Antonio finally dropped us off at the bus station in the town and wished us good luck. He is a technician at a power plant and was headed to the coast on business. In the station we saw the first map of this hitchhiking adventure ... It turns out there was a fork a few miles down the road from where we were thumbing a ride--and Antonio was going down the wrong fork!
We were bummed we had to end up traveling 3 sides of a square to get to El Calafate, but we were thankful that someone picked up us and all our bags. Both of us agreed that we're not even sure we would pick ourselves up, so we're thankful for whatever generosity we get. Next time though, we're taking a map.
One of the other volunteers had a problem with his leg, so we hitched a ride from the estancia into sleepy town of Gobernator Gregores. Pauline dropped us off with our bags and some food and told us she'd come back in 3 hours to see if we were still there. The traffic was quite sparse, maybe a car every 5-10 minutes, and so thumbing was slow, but fun. Most of the drivers would react, giving us various signals that seemed to indicate they weren't going that far or were returning to town.
After about 40 minutes, a guy in a small car stopped and asked where we were going. We told him several times and he had no idea what we were talking about. After 4 or 5 times repeating "El Calafate" at various speeds, we tried varying the pronunciation which did the trick: we were saying the name incorrectly.
Unfortunately, Antonio, our friendly traveler, did not speak slow Spanish and we did not understand where he was going. He did say that we could get some kind of a bus from where he'd leave us to El Calafate. We hopped in the and 2 hour journey over gravel roads began.
Antonio finally dropped us off at the bus station in the town and wished us good luck. He is a technician at a power plant and was headed to the coast on business. In the station we saw the first map of this hitchhiking adventure ... It turns out there was a fork a few miles down the road from where we were thumbing a ride--and Antonio was going down the wrong fork!
We were bummed we had to end up traveling 3 sides of a square to get to El Calafate, but we were thankful that someone picked up us and all our bags. Both of us agreed that we're not even sure we would pick ourselves up, so we're thankful for whatever generosity we get. Next time though, we're taking a map.
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