Night of The Foam Wars

I'm not sure what you would really call this, or what the exact ingredients are. But, the stuff could best be likened as a form of shaving cream- that isn't an irritant. During periods of Carnival, this seems to be a main focal point of entertainment... that is, after the music.

Last night, while on or walk back from the game, we passed one of these large events. I tried -unsuccessfully- to bypass the crowd and avoid attack. Though, within seconds, I had several people -an old lady, and a young child- who started spraying me. Determined to get my revenge, I purchased two cans of this odd stuff, and went on a foam rampage; successfully, covering each of my attackers.

These following pictures are of me and the two kids who are currently visiting with their parents- and, are staying at the same condo (one is Paul's Niece).

Futbol

Just returned from a River vs. Racing match. Quite entertaining, and an important game for each team to win. The teams are currently in their "Clausura" period, which is similar to the finals in one of the games in the States. River won by a score of 4-2. The fans... well, if I were to compare them to my experience of the Bacas Jr. game last year -sorry River Plate fans- Bocas fans seemed to have much , much, much more enthusiasm. Now, part of the reasoning could be that it was freakin hot!!!! (I saw one girl laying on the floor, as her boyfriend fanned her, trying to recover from heat stroke...) Though, this didn't excuse the fact that they were absent crucial instruments to obtain the necessary level of a 'truly' loud fan base.......drums. Even River, who was the visiting team, had them... Though, even with the obvious absence of the drums, they just didn't seem to have the same energy level.












Arin Gilbert

Punta Arenas, Chile (Photos)

During our visit to Bulnes... as you walked past, the forested landscape, you enter a clearing, where your exposed to a sight quite fascinating- the end of the American continents… well, that is, of course, before the Panama Canal was built. The wind and cold of this region was quite intense. And, as I made my way towards the beach, the force of the waves regularly sent splashes in my direction. I cannot remember a time or, a place, where the ocean and wind seemed as adamant to send the message that they were not to be reckoned with.

Off in the distance... The end of the Americas.



Wait a minute... Where is Arin standing??? At the middle point of Chile! And how, do you ask, is that possible. Well, Chile claims that a portion of the Antarctic belongs to them... and as such, it's an extension of their country. And, and, and therefore I was standing in the center of the country... A cool old dock.

Arin Gilbert

Punta Arenas (Photos 2)

Cool painted building.

A view from Fuerte Bulnes.

Bones of an old boat.

From El Bolson - Rio Gallegos (pictures)

This woman owns the hotel where we stayed in Rio Gallegos. Her family were descendants of Germany, back in the 40's... Hmm, I wonder what that means. Anyway, sweet lady, and I couldn't resists posting this photo. The height and facial expression are just crazy.
Arin Gilbert

Guatemala has their Chicken buses and Argentina…

their Subways...

Though the chicken buses are definitely much more dangerous -and dated- Argentina wins when competing for how many people they can fit into each car. I just came from the most crammed, most tight, most intimate subway ride, in my life. It’s currently rush hour. And the only way to ensure a ride, unless one waits an hour, is to squeeze in with all the rest of the passengers, and then, get squeezed some more- as others try squeezing themselves in, after you. It was quite the all-around squeeze...

Can anyone guess what I'm doing...

Just examine this photo for a moment... It was taken in a mercado in Punta Arenas, Chile(feel free to click on the image to enlarge it)


Paul took this shot of me while I was arguing about money. I wasn't in anyway loud, nor impolite- so, I'm unsure as to why I drew such a crowd. The issue was regarding a purchase I had made a couple days earlier. I'd bought a bottle of cerveza. And, as is common, they charged an additional deposit for the bottle- the idea being that every time you return for another bottle, you bring back the old. What confused me, and generated the crowd you see in the picture, was their lack, and determined stance, that I couldn't get my money back. Each individual I spoke with was insistent that I should just buy another cerveza; and each time, my response was "I wasn't interested." I tried being flexible, and even offered to take a store credit. But, they were insistent that I needed to just purchase another cerveza. Uninterested, and fed-up of explaining and discussing (well over 15 minutes), I finally just broke into a mode of "no comprende... no...no... por que... donde esta mi dinero... yo, solomente interesto in dinero, no mas" (can't understand. Where is my money? I'm only interested in getting money). With this, 'Finally', someone opened the cash register and returned my bottle deposit... A measly .75 American cents. But hey, it was great practice with Spanish; it was the principle of the matter; and, I got a funny photo out of the whole thing!

R2

When I started my travels, I naively entered with a determination to help. Believing that the US was well situated and taken care of, the outside world "obviously" was the better recipient of my enthusiastic energy. And, with this, I began perusing a fruitless search of where and who could use my help… “Because, obviously, help is needed; no matter what the help is, it’s just needed”.

Quickly, the basis of my initial assumption was transparently altered. Though, ironically, it was one of those transparencies where everything around you is quite obvious, except to the one who is still making the assumption. I can still remember my first week in Guatemala. Thinking to myself how odd it was that I’d not been able to immediately, without hesitation, find people who were in need of assistance. Within my 3^rd – 4^th day, I met a woman who was plugged into the whole NGO scene in Antigua, and the surrounding area. I asked her if she knew of anyone in need of IT skills, assuming she would, I was quite shocked when she didn’t.

During my first encounter with the woman, and the further observations I began making throughout the travels, a question of ‘What is help?’, started overtaking my thoughts.

A reflection, in several parts

I think I began writing this while in NM... It can be considered a partial babble, a partial grievance, and partial quest of a question.

As it is quite long, I've opted to break it down into chunks; this, being the first:

Why do so many feel the desire in this country -The United States- to help abroad? Why do we not look internally at the vast problems that face our country and come up with solutions to help our own? Why is their a sense of romantic-ism or sexy-ism -a departure from the stigmatic nitty gritty- when one thinks of volunteering within another country? And yet, when faced with the same desire in the US, an antonymic thought is evoked. Is it a sense or belief that the lives of the citizens of the US are far superior, and therefore the issues affecting others never quite seem to happen in our own?

El Bolson

We're back in Buenos Aires. And, it's nice to be somewhat stationary again! The ride from Puerto Madryn to here was ok. We sat next to two quite large woman -especially for Argentine standards. They seemed nice enough. But what got to me was they had a kid- not much older then 3, and no younger then 2. I don't think I once saw them give her food. So, what was the nourishment of choice... filling her bottle with Coke or, apple juice. It was really a strange sight. Maybe this was a special occasion, and a way to keep the child quite (the kid was pretty silent throughout the 18 hour bus ride). But, come on, coke (caffeine and sugar) and apple juice (sugar) for 18 hours straight. The poor kid was probably too weak to throw any type of tantrum!!!

Anyway, I'm back. Here are some photos of the last couple of weeks. I've placed them in some what of an order. I'll add more in the coming days.

This if were to have done a 180 and taken a picture behind me, the mountain would have been of Chile. I have additional photos, which I will try and post later.

This Dog was just so cool. Really neat personality, and it's look... well, you can imagine. I debated putting the thing in my pack, but figured immigration would have given me a hard time!

Sorry mom. Yes, there aren't many photo's of El Bolson. But, rest assured I have more. In the distance, are a bunch of rainbow people doing... well, absolutely nothing.

Bariloche

Not sure the name of these trees. They are located on a protected island within one Bariloche lakes. We had to hire a boat to get to the place.

This and the photo below and two additional photos from one of the other islands. I think this island is called Isle Victory.

The Argentines know how to cook!!!

The lake which the town overlooks.

Mismo

These are photos of the boat we took over to the islands.

Credits go to my mom. Who, if it weren't for her insistence on visiting Bariloche and El Bolson, I would have never of gone.

And then, they were there...

The definition of siesta is truly taken seriously here. Paul and I, biding our time until the bus departure, is without -and was out- place for most of the day. To fill the time, each went our own separate ways, exploring the town. Around 1:00, we noticed something quite apparent. The streets all of a sudden became deserted. In addition, stores started closing, and all that was left was the entertainment of the water, absent most sunbathers. We did what most intelligent people could do when faced with a situation such as ours, we found a cafe, and just sat back. Hours went by, and finally, the hibernating mammals came out of slumber, and began walking the streets once more. The streets are now quite crowded, and if tonight is anything like last night, will be packed by days end.

At 7:45pm, we take a bus to Buenos Aires.

Meirda

Well, I'm still in the same town- Puerto Madryn... But have found another Internet, that is much more friendly to the outsider -and insider. Also, one additional addition. I visited the Internet cafe again -today, the below was written yesterday- and was charged .50 cent peso extra for 20 seconds of waiting. The cost of Internet at the cafe was 2 pesos. I left my terminal 15 second before the hour was up. When I arrived at the desk, I was placed in queue - the woman was talking on the phone. When she ended the call, she looked at my time (One hour and 28 seconds)... And, the woman charged me an extra .50 cents for the hour over!!! I complained, not forcefully -which I should have done- with no avail...

_______________________________________
Cursed Internet!!! It won't allow me to post this blog.
I'm currently writing this entry in my e-mail account. Knowing that eventually, probably when I return to Buenos Aires, I'll be able to post this properly.

About 4 hours ago, I arrived into the town where I currently sit. The weather is in direct contrast to what I've grown accustomed to. Out in the playa, are half naked bodies prancing in the Atlantic sea, as it peacefully brings it's liquid tips to shore. The air, not as fresh as Southern Argentina, generates sweat upon ones forehead... It is HOT! As I continue in a determined state of arrogance- to write this blog- I am reminded of the benefits of staying, and using an atrocious beast of a machine -AC.

Paul and I have traveled a little over 36 hours to get where I currently write. The trip entailed two separate bus rides- One from Ushuaia to Rio Gallegos, the other, Rio Gallegos to here.
Our first leg was stricken with an international dispute! Us (Paul and I, the Americans) and the four girls (from Israel). The battle was long and hard fought, and at the end, there was no clear winner. My philosophy leans to avoid altercations, but when they are of such importance as what we were dealing with, there is no other way then to enter into dispute. The method for resolution, was by way of moderation- We actually never interacted with each other, but instead, resolved to use the handler of the bus as the moderator (A man, weak in his own judgement, but wise enough to not take sides). The argument, or disagreement, was regarding the air in the bus. The four girls, uninterested in wrapping themselves with warm clothing, continually complained that the bus was too cold. We, on the other hand, uninterested in stripping down to stay cool, constantly requested an increase in the buses air. For six hours, the bus found either side, walking from the back -where each of the groups sat- all the way to the front -requesting that the temperature be altered; when it got too hot, we would request that the air be turned on; when the girls felt it was too cold, they would request the air be shut off.

The second of the legs was much smoother and was had during twilight hours, where we once again found ourselves calling the bus home.

Puerto Madryn is where we are. The place is supposed to have a wonderful national park where Penguins roam and frolic wildly. But, I have resigned a promise that I shall not visit penguins in the wild unless in the far, far south.

Ushuaia

I´ve jotted down some thoughts of the place. But, the cimnputer I´m currently using doesn´t exactly inspire me to write... The keyboard is sticking, and there are other waiting to use the sole machine in this hotel.

Ushuaia is city situated at the base of a channel. Behind the town rests several moutain chains, all of which have glaciers. We took a boat ride yesterday. Four hour tour that toured us around the Beagle Channel. All extraordinary, and filled with spectacular sights.

Surrounded by sun...

No, wait, it´s now cloudy... Wait, it´s sunny again; now raining; now snowing; now sunny; now snowing- But wait, how could it be snowing with such greenery around me. Oh, I get it, over in the distance, there´s a bunch of snow. But, but, but, why in the foreground, and where I´m standing, is it so green? Oh, good, here´s the sun again... Man, is it windy... WOW it´s windy, and incredibly cold... boy is it cold, and windy, and rainy... oh, here comes the sun- well, there went the sun. Ouch, this wind carries with it a brisk chill unfelt anywhere I´ve been..

So, this is how it feels to be so far south. I can´t imagine being a navigator back in the 1500´s. After a journey lasting longer then my rations, I´d see land. Excited, I´d attempt to navigate the hazardous waters -and they are hazardous- to shore. When I finally did manage to secure a safe landing, I´d run -actually, more like crawl from lack of nourishment- in search of food and water. Fresh water! I found it; and it´s so refreshing. But wait, where´s the abundance of food, women, and fortune I´d been told of? It´s nowhere to be seen, or eaten. I am so hungry. Since being on this voyage, I´ve lost at least 40 pounds or, a little over 2.5 stones. I must find nourishment. I must! But where? Where is the nectar of Heaven that had been promised to me. Oh why, why have I been forsaken!!!


Paul and I toured a place called Fuerte Bulnes (Fort Bulnes). Built in the late 1800´s to secure the Straight of Magellan. The fort is named after the overzealous president, who believed the passage should be protected from anyone not authorized to travel it´s waters. (I´ve taken several pictures of the fort that I will have to wait until Buenos Aires to post. But, let´s just say that being assigned to the area would have been punishment!)

I didn´t find the fort particularly interesting, but as one walked past it´s wooden walls, you had access to the ocean- a wild and untamed beast, that danced a fierce and forceful dance with the wind. In the distance, once taking your eye from the wild sea, you were gifted with a sight recreated nowhere else on earth, the end of the Americas- Some 20 miles in the distance was the last remaining continuous (that is, until they built the Panama Canal) piece of land of the American continents. Seeing the sight was a bit surreal. Here, before me, was the tip of America, the so called end of our Continents. There were several islands that strained their land in an attempt to connect with America. Though, as high as their peaks may have risen -and the land stretched- they were not the Continent. The look and end of the American continents was something that seemed intent not to end in a fizzle. Instead of gradually roaming it´s fingers into the sea, it stood there like a beast ready to devour it´s prey. High as a mountain worthy of scaling, the land allowed only the slightest of water to kiss it´s side, as if to say ¨I shall not let you treat my tip like a beach where beast shall make rest. I am the tip of a massive set of Continents, and as such, I should be respected¨.

Still here

Next destination, Ushuaia. Though, a slight complication... The next bus -that isn´t full- leaves on Thursday. Translation, we´re inPunta Arenas for another 3 days.

The town isn´t that bad. Founded in 1848, it´s architecture, at least wthin the orginal part of the city, is quite colonial.

While eating lunch today, a man from Pennsylvania encountered a slight problem with mathmatical conversiosn of currency. We started talking with him for a little while - 3 to 4 minutes. As he left the restaurant, his departing words were ¨enjoy this place man... you never know when you´ll have this opportunity again¨... then added, as he walked out the door ¨believe me, enjoy this place...there is a whore house up the street... you guys should check it out... it´s great¨ Then, sticking his thumbs to give the place an ok¨...really great.¨

We´re off to walk more of the city. Where people laugh when you pronounce Magellan ¨Magellan¨. Here, they pronounce the word as ¨Magallanes¨(ma-gah-leh-naws).

It's like leaving heaven and going to hell...

in a single day.

This was Paul's comment about 40 minutes ago, after arguing with a woman about 'Barrato' prices (she was adamit that her $50 a night room was a fair deal and we'd never be able to find better in the states...). Somehow, we've departed our lovely country called Argentina and entered, what is appropriately named 'Chili'. I don't mean to place a cruel label upon the whole country -they've already done that with their name- it's just that we expected a specific price scale, and instead have been introduced to something far different; and far more pricey.

The area is somewhat nice, but the reality of pricing has reduced the overall pleasure to something between... well, I'll refrain from using descriptives. Anyway, We'll probably be here for another night, as passages to Ushuaia are filled until Tuesday (FYI, our hotel is $44 a night, a far cry from the 10 - 20 prices we were paying before). SO, tomorrow will be filled with a walking tour of the city.

It's now a bit chilly

My heads beginning to heart, I'm becoming disoriented, and days are now running into other days- everything is beginning a blur...

After close to 50 hours of bus riding in the last 6 days, the 'where' and 'what' you've done seems to marinate into a sauce that an overzealous cook has ruined, because of adding too much salt... 5 days ago- which now feels like an eternity, we'd just arrived in a town called Bariloche. Now, after a 4 hour bus ride (1 and a half of it was spent sitting at two custom patrol offices- Argentina and Chile) I find myself in Punta Arenas. It's difficult for me to report about the city, as I just arrived. But, from what I can tell, it will be a nice place to stay for a day or two. There's some significance with Magellan and his route through Tierra Del Fuego, but I'm not yet sure what- I'll learn later and update the blog with what I find.

The town is surround on one side by sea, and the other by land. I need to grab a map, but our longitude is quite South; and soon to get more southern. In a day or two- depending on what we find here- we'll leave for Ushuaia, and then... well, if we can get further south, we will.

It´s sooooo hot!

I currently sit, cursing a fan, that isn´t able to stay fixed. Where am I, at an Internet, attempting to keep myself cool. The fan in mention, is on a stationary stand, with a 180¨ rotating head. It would really be nice if I could force it´s wind in solely my direction, but alas, I must share, and be considerate of all the other sweating bodies.

Our bus leaves in 2 hours. Paul -who isn´t here right now- and I are attempting to do everything possible from not sweating. Entering the bus with a sweat infested body for a period greater then 24 hours, without the convenience of a shower, is not something that I´d like to spend much time thinking about. But alas, it is something we must keep in mind... Only 2 more hours, and we will be in the environment of an air conditioned bus, that will hold us captive for a period of over 20 hours...

El Bolson

How does one describe something so...so...so... Hippie! The area seems to encourage a life of little. The setting, tranquil. The people, tranquil. The overall environment, tranquil. What does one do when faced with tranquility??? Attempt to get into the spirit, and become tranquil. Somewhat forced to adapt, I´ve tried to get into the spirit of doing nothing, but it´s hard!!! I wish I´d brought a laptop, so I could write. But, left with only a book, and the accompaniment of multiple rainbow people, I´ve had to try and just stay put.

For the last couple days, this town in the valley, decided to sever ties with the outside world. Regrettably so, they finally realized the error of their ways and decided it wasn´t such a bad thing to have outside communication- we´d lost Internet for about a day and a half; no explanation given -I don´t think anyone actually knows why it went down. Thew recovery from such events is difficult, but I am slowly reeling from the effects.

Paul and I will be taking a bus to Rio Gallegos tonight (5:30). The ride will last about 24 hours. (Am I crazy... I used to think no, but subjecting myself to two rides -each over 20 hours- in less then a week, offers a different point of view; or begs one to reevaluate ones thinking.)

To summarize, El Bolson is beautiful, though too tranquil for me at this very moment. We lost Internet in the town for two days. There are a lot of Hippies here. Paul and I will be taking a bus to Rio Gallegos tonight and getting to Rio Gallegos tomorrow evening, around 7:30... Oh, and it´s supposed to be 35C or about 95F in Buenos Aires... Oh, and another Oh. There´s a woman, in Buenos Aires, who wants to rent out her apartment for the next two years at $400 a month. I´m thinking it could be a great vacation rental investment (below are the pics).