Que lugar es Argentina...

Before leaving the States, I'm not sure where from, I heard that Argentina is composed of two countries: Buenos Aires and everywhere else. In said terms, I have entered a new country, as of a couple days ago.

Buenos Aires is one of those places where to see a sunset, you need to plan ahead for it and put yourself in some open space that grants the sun entry during its colorful conclusion. As surprising as it sounds, I don't remember a single sunset there. There were a few colorful sunrises, but as to how nature's wheels actually drove the day to an end, I really couldn't be certain they included a sunset in that extensive urban landscape.

In between bus catnaps, I had the great fortune of having sunset wake me, through the greasy windows of a bus I had just barely caught, so I didn't know the name of the company. This is an important detail because the bus was hurtling through the hillside maniacally, often pushing small Honda-sized vehicles onto the shoulder in its search for the shortest distance around the turns. It was scary at first, but after a few minutes of realizing this was par for the course, I decided that I had two options: begin sleeping, or scream "Basta! Fuego!" and take my chances as a tourist of the Argentine legal system. While contemplating the potential entertainment of the latter, my body submitted to the former.

This is when I woke up. Now, I grant you, I do embellish sometimes, but I promise you that I woke up and the driver's mood had calmed, and for good reason. We weaved through one of the world's most beautiful villages I have ever seen. The Rio Primero carved through an otherwise desertlike landscape, providing water for a small community, of which everything that surrounded them looked like an art piece: houses no two alike, of chaotic yet practical designs, often with roofs made up as patios. The colors of red and pink mixed with yellow and beige, all of this lit up by the valley's texture-granting sunset. Huge white birds ate along the river. Every now and then you'd see power lines that had been transformed into vast aviary communities, bending from the weight of tiny stick nests. Futbol fields (without nets of course) could be found in the strangest of places, at times bending around trees, with goalposts made of bowing woodbeams. People bustled about, preparing dinners or chalanding on porchsteps with mate, the favored tea-like drink I've taken a liking to here. What a place. I look at the Lonely Planet now, not really sure what the village was called, but it seems that it might have been La Calera, near Cordoba - or for you history buffs, a mere 30 miles from the childhood home of Ernesta Guevara..

I've now arrived in Cordoba, my stop for probably only a day, where I'm patiently winding my way down to Bariloche. I'm glad to be taking it slowly, because to only know Argentina through the lens of Buenos Aires would be an awful mismeasurement.

For better or worse, I will try to describe yesterday in Castellano, just to reassert the fact that, out here away from the big city, English must be abandoned for whatever I can make of this new language. (Sorry that I cannot put all the accent marks in here)

Que tal, mis amigos. Ojala yo puedo describir cada detalle, pero este idioma neuve es aun casi nada. Mientras tanto, yo empiezo, por bien o mal.

Ajer, me quedo a Las Valkirias, en Capilla del Monte. Este lugar no es en el desinto de bastante morchileros. Fui la solo persona a la hosteria. Porque esta, la familia que trabajan aca fueron muy simpatico (mi favorita parabla de Castellano). En la tardes, exploramos la naturaleza con Luis y Raul, dos hombres que estan muy cerca la tierra adentro corazon y animo. Tomamos mate y hablar por las rocas y plantes cerca nosotros.

Aunque me gusta todo, me falta voy a la sud. Yo acuerdo mucho de este dia, y ojala vuelvo pronto.

That's all for now. More soon from the next stop, wherever that may be.