Sometimes, things don’t exactly go as planned. In Argentina this happens a lot but I have learned to go with the flow, as long as my life is not put in danger.
On Tuesday Paloma and I left for a 6-day trip to northwestern Argentina, in the
provincias of Salta and Jujuy. There was a little miscommunication and our flights were booked arriving and departing from opposite cities, but we quickly resolved this minor dilemma and thought that everything from that point forward would go smoothly.
Pero nos equivocamos.
Tuesday was a wet, rainy, windy, and all around gross day. I couldn’t even anticipate the turbulence that lay ahead, but my flight took off on time and besides the occasional bumps and drops, everything was going relatively smoothly.
An hour into the flight—just as we’re getting out of the intense turbulence zone—the captain announces that there is a gas leak in the plane and that we would be returning back to Buenos Aires. Yes, we were halfway to Jujuy so we could have just continued on to our final destination, furthermore there are several large cities in between Jujuy and Buenos Aires where we could have landed, but regardless the plane turned around and brought us back to the zone of deathly turbulence.
Gripping onto the side of my seat, palms sweating, heart racing, I was ready to just fast-forward to Jujuy. There was a
plane crash in Patagonia less than a week beforehand, so that didn’t exactly help calm my nerves.
Coming in over the
Costanera, the dirty
Río de la Plata beneath us, passing the River Plate stadium, we were basically back at
Jorge Newbery so I thought I was able to finally breathe. As we were coming in to land, just as the wheels are about to screech against the damp pavement of the runway, the plane starts to take off again. The pilot comes on the loudspeaker only to tell us that another plane was coming into land right behind us and that we had to loop around again to land. Sitting by the window, I curiously peer out the window to see if I could see the plane behind us. Not only could I SEE the plane, but it was just a few hundred feet behind the tail of our plane.
Hey Courtney, don’t you wish you had been on this flight?
Planes just don’t crash in the air…that is something that you can bet on NEVER happening. However, a lack of communication with the ATC tower may result otherwise. Seeing the nose of the other plane behind us, I was hit with a wave of nausea and felt like I was going to pass out. The woman next to me sees my panic and immediately takes my hand in an effort to calm me down.
Todo bien, todo bien.
And yes, everything was okay. I mean, the Jujuy airport was closed because of weather so we had to land in Salta and then be shuttled two hours in a
combi to Jujuy, but I made it in one piece. (And only seven hours after I was supposed to arrive!)
Well, things can only get better from here!
Paloma and I went out to dinner at an
empanadería with two French guys that we met in our hostel. I got
empanadas de llama…
¡increíbles! Northwest Argentina is known for their delicious regional food, such as
tamales,
humitas,
sopa de maní,
empanadas,
llama,
locro…and it actually comes
picante!
The next day was May 25th, not only my beautiful mother’s birthday but also
El Día de la Patria in Argentina. All stores were closed in the morning and the entire city of Jujuy assembled in the central plaza for a big
desfile. We were in a sea of
celeste and
Soles de Mayo. Young school children,
gauchos on
caballo, members of the
ejército, and veterans, among many others, filed down San Martín as they were presented to the observing
jujeños. The sense of national pride, even in this city of less than 300,000, was tremendous and contagious. Instead of throwing candy to the spectators,
alfajores and
empanadas were handed out. The plaza was filled with
pancho stands, mobile
kioscos, and vendors selling Argentine flags, flag pins, flag ribbons…pretty much flag-anything. The marching band played some of Argentina’s national songs as the
jujeños sang along. The
orgullo argentino that was so simply and modestly revealed in the little city of San Salvador de Jujuy made me recognize my own
orgullo argentino…I am an Argentine resident after all!
We spent the rest of the day exploring the city, wandering the street markets of pirated movies and imitation Nike products, trying new regional specialties, and munching on
hojas de coca.
Coca leaves are legal in the
provincias of Jujuy and Salta, traditionally used for medical or religious purposes. I basically relied on coca leaves when I was in Peru in 2008, as they are very effective with fighting altitude sickness.
Las hojas de coca saved me again this past week, as we were between 5,000-13,000 feet above sea level at different points throughout the week. The coca leaves also awesomely numb your mouth when you chew on them…which you know, is always fun.
On Thursday we went on an excursion to
Las Salinas Grandes. I visited some salt flats in Córdoba, but the ones in Jujuy (and Salta) are known for being pure
salitre that extend for miles and miles, so we decided to check them out. Our guide first took us through some small indigenous villages (one of the villages only had one telephone for the entire community!), up through the
autopista panamericana, and into Purmamarca where we hiked in the
Quebrada de Humahuaca through the
Cerro de los Siete Colores. The different colors on the mountain are a result of different sediments, each color signifying a different time period. The air was thin, we were huffin’ and puffin’, but it was such an extraordinary view that our inability to breathe seemed trivial. The reds, oranges, purples, and greens of the mountains were so unlike anything I had ever seen before, and I can’t even illustrate the radiance of the
quebrada in words nor in photos.
While some of us grabbed lunch at a deli in Purmamarca (this means
jamón crudo!), others opted to have a more regional dish in a small village on the way to the salt flats. After trying two closed restaurants, we arrived at one that had lunch but only for three people. Some had to ration, but we left with
panzas llenas. After lunch we went up to
Las Salinas Grandes…sunglasses necessary. We spent an hour roaming around the infinite flats, taking pictures of ourselves in the palm of someone’s hand, standing on people’s shoulders, ninja-fighting, eating our mini-friends, and with our dancing Bolivian people. The blinding reflection from the purely white salt left us sunburned, tired, dehydrated, and partially blind (for those without sunglasses), but we all still had smiles on our faces. Before heading back to Jujuy we stopped back at the Purmamarca market where we all loaded up on llama sweaters, scarves, and other
cosas artesenales.
Jujeños are predominantly indigenous with dark complexions, so they are immediately drawn to my light green eyes.
¡Qué bellos ojos! I may or may not have used this to my advantage when it came to haggling prices. Winnnnn.
Paloma and I went to Tilcara on Friday, a small town nestled in the
Quebrada de Humahuaca, about an hour and a half from Jujuy. We got there in the early afternoon and had a long (two hours!) lunch at a cute little restaurant, where we stuffed ourselves with
empanadas,
chorizo, and
morcilla. We were seated in front of the window…ultimate people watching. A woman walked by selling indigenous dolls made out of seeds in a colorful dress…so naturally we both had to run out and get one for ourselves. We named hers Chachi and mine Consuela…and they are our new best friends. (Peep them lovin' each other to the left.) After lunch we began wandering the streets of Tilcara, hoping to make our way to the ruins or
Garganta del Diablo. Well, we got sidetracked at the market (again, using my
ojos verdes to my advantage), and ended up buying some pretty badass converse, woven with colorful, indigenous cloth. Don’t know how well these shoes will be accepted in the US, but I’m in Argentina for over six more months, and I plan on getting as much use out of them as possible. We headed back to Jujuy, stopped at our hostel, then went back to the bus station and hopped onto our bus to Salta. Paloma and I arrived around 10:30, and although we had a long day, we were still ready to hit up a
peña. We got to
La Vieja Estación around 11:30 (acceptable time for dinner in Argentina), getting one of the last seats in the house. Lots of folklore music,
empanadas,
tamales, and
vino…
buena onda.
The peña at La Vieja Estación in Salta
On Saturday we woke up early and got on a bus to Cafayate, about four hours south of Salta. Sara and Devon met us at the bus station and we immediately began our wine-tasting adventures. We started at
Bodega Nanni, an organic, family-run vineyard. We were introduced to
Torrontés, a dry white wine and Cafayate’s claim to fame. At
Bodega Nanni we started talking to our tour guide who is actually from Boston. She was telling us about how she moved to Argentina for sustainable development in La Plata and then wound up working at this vineyard in Cafayate. She didn’t care that she was earning Argentine wages because she was so happy where she was. Talking with her really inspired me to do what I love. Right now, owning and running a vineyard seems to be my calling, but I’m still working out all the details. Walking around Cafayate, I fell in love. It is surrounded by gorgeous mountains, a similar landscape to Tilcara but much more green. The pink mountains in the distance make the beauty of Cafayate so incredibly unique. We went to three other vineyards, but I enjoyed the wines at
Bodega Nanni more. They were much smoother than the others (especially
Bodega Vasija Secreta, whose wine was a little too bitter for my liking), plus they’re all organic! After we
vino-ed our way through Cafayate we wound up at an ice cream parlor that has
Torrontés and
Cabernet Sauvignon flavored ice cream…MAJOR win.
Cabernet was my favorite, but they were both delicious. I mean…it’s WINE ice cream. A pretty ultimate fusion of life’s essentials, if you ask me.
Paloma left early Sunday morning so I spent the day with Mya and Kirsten. We had awesome luck with the weather all week; every day was sunny without a cloud in the sky. But on Sunday it was a bit gloomy, so we went to the
supermercado, got some
Malbec, cheese, crackers, and chocolate, and had a huge snuggle session in the hostel. LOTS of laughing, obvio, and before I knew it I was headed back to BA.
I’m off to Mendoza next! Bike-wine tours…here I come! (Watch out pedestrians.)
Chau,
audgentina.
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