Dancing in the Mud? Andean Aftermath

There’s dancing in the streets of Buenos Aires today, just as there is in New Orleans and Rio de Janeiro – it’s Fat Tuesday, and Carnaval celebrations are in full swing. It’s not the spectacle in the Argentine capital that it is in Brazil or Louisiana, but neighborhood murgas (troupes) still kick up their heels. So do those in Gualeguaychú, the acknowledged capital of Argentine Carnaval, and in Uruguay (whose Museo del Carnaval in Montevideo - pictured below - is well worth a visit).

Meanwhile, in the Andes on both sides of the border, Argentines and Chilean are digging their way out of the mud left by summer storms in Argentina’s Mendoza province, which have closed the main border crossing, and the Chilean village of San Pedro de Atacama, which received almost unprecedented rainfall. In the short term, there’s been no solution for the disruptions caused by these unusual weather events.

Last Friday, I speculated that Chile’s southerly Paso Vergara might be an alternative crossing to Argentina but, according to the Mendoza daily Los Andes, the Vergara is also closed. That leaves only the Paso Pehuenche (pictured above, looking toward the Chilean side) from Talca to Malargüe, but the paper adds that the increased traffic has overwhelmed the customs and immigrations facilities along the route, “with lines of vehicles one kilometer long, and an almost five hour wait at the border post of Las Loicas,” on the Argentine side. Lines at the Chilean border post of La Mina were even longer.

With insufficient facilities at a rarely used crossing, Argentine authorities have kept the border open beyond the normal 6 p.m. closure, but that’s only helped slightly. According to one eastbound traveler, the usual five-hour journey from Talca to Malargüe took 11 hours this time. It’s still looking like a challenging season, especially with Mendoza’s wine harvest festival on the horizon.

Meanwhile, I received a couple first-hand reports from and about San Pedro de Atacama. My friend Martin Beeris, owner of the Cosmo Andino travel agency in San Pedro, reports that “The road to Calama got washed away, big, big holes really. All sites closed for three full days, only now slowly getting back to normal. The Río San Pedro returned to its course, where it used to run years ago” before authorities decided to build housing projects there. “It's a mudpool right now, many people have debris, rocks and shit up to their necks, some have actually lost their homes. No lives lost and that's a miracle. I had not seen this kind of rain since 2001, possibly even 1988. 33 millimetres in less than one hour, the first time we got wet.”

On top of that, a Dutch cyclist who was camping nearby got swept away by a mudflow but, fortunately, Carabineros police rescued him, “buried in mud and water, in precarious conditions and dressed only in shorts,” after receiving reports of an unattended tent and bicycle. With temperatures below freezing at night, the cyclist was fortunate to suffer only a broken leg and is now hospitalized in Antofagasta.

On Friday, I also speculated that the Hotel Alto Atacama might have been affected by the floods, and hotel publicist Kristina Schreck tells me that “the Alto is closed until Feb. 17 until we can get everything in order. We've been moving reservations and/or returning money to clients booked during this time.” It was not, as I had guessed, an issue of access up the narrow river canyon, but that “The pools flooded and the generator area was flooded so they're trying to fix that - less of an access issue and more of a cleaning up issue.” It’s probably a tossup whether Mendoza or San Pedro returns to normality first.

Win This App!

Soon, as the new edition of Moon Handbooks Chile comes out later this month, I will have a contest to give away some free copies on this blog. In the meantime, for those of you have an iPhone, iPad or iPod Touch, I am giving away ten copies of my Argentina Travel Adventures and Chile Travel Adventures apps, with no strings attached.

Simply write me at southerncone (at) mac.com, and I will send a code for a free download of either Argentina or Chile, up to a total of ten (no more than one per person, please). For those of you who use Android devices, I regret that Google does not permit such promotions, so you’ll have to shell out US$2.99 (which presumably should not break your budget).

Some Argentina/Chile Comparisons

Today’s post discusses some comparisons between the Buenos Aires and Santiago subway systems, the two countries’ postal systems, and describes a proposed new link between continental Argentina and the Argentine side of the Isla Grande de Tierra del Fuego.

Advantage: Subte

While Santiago’s Metro has long since surpassed Buenos Aires’s Subte in terms of its routes and service, the Argentine capital’s underground railroad has one distinctive advantage: except for its oldest cars (the wooden antiques on Línea A, which dates from 1914), it has placed all the seats against the cars’ outer walls, leaving wide aisles through which passengers can move relatively easily (the photo above shows the system at an especially quiet hour). It still gets crowded, of course, but that differs from the Santiago Metro (pictured below), where the few seats appear to be randomly placed with narrow aisles - so that there are often bottlenecks to get in and out of cars. This means everybody wants to be near the doors, which makes that part of every car so much more crowded.

Out of curiosity, as I added value to my Metro electronic “BIP” card yesterday, I asked the station attendant what constituted tercera edad (senior citizen’s age) for purposes of discount tickets. She told me it was age 65 for men, but only age 60 for women - from my point of view, a clearly discriminatory policy on the part of Chilean law. Ever since the 1980s, when the Pinochet regime imposed the privatization of the state pension system, men have been expected to work five years longer than women.

The Gaucho Express
As I was preparing to send off the finishing touches of the manuscript for the upcoming third edition of Moon Handbooks Patagonia, I asked my Argentine collaborator Nicolás Kugler to send me his updated maps by courier to Puerto Varas, where I expected to be at the time. He did so but also emailed me PDF copies that I could work from - fortunately because, two days ago, they finally arrived, one month after he sent them.

I could only conclude that Correo Argentino, the renationalized post office whose imposing Buenos Aires headquarters appears above, sent them by gaucho relay across the Pampas and over the Andes, as they arrived 11 days later in Santiago (about two hours by air from Buenos Aires). That said, it took another 20 days for them to arrive at my friend Andreas La Rosé’s Casa Azul B&B in Puerto Varas - having apparently spent most of that time in the Puerto Varas branch of Correos de Chile (the Chilean post office, which has never been privatized). My recommendation, for those who have to send urgent items internationally from either country, is to use a more reliable service such as FedEx.

The Fuegian Connection
According to the online Santiago Times, the Argentine government intends to establish a maritime link (apparently a ferry) from Punta Loyola, east of the Santa Cruz province capital of Río Gallegos, to Tierra del Fuego’s northern shores. The six-hour voyage would enable Argentines to avoid traveling through Chile, an issue that gained notoriety in January, when Chilean protestors blocked highways into and out of the Magallanes region for a week because of an increase in natural gas prices. That left Argentine motorists and other overland travelers stranded on the Argentine side of the island.

The Argentine government was correct in protesting the improper closure of an international border (though hypocritical in that it’s looked the other way even as ostensible environmental protests have closed the border between Entre Ríos province and neighboring Uruguay for more than four years). Where Chile has been more remiss, in the long term, is its failure to pave the roughly 125 km between the town of Cerro Sombrero and the border post of San Sebastián. That’s done more to slow down the traffic between the continent and the Argentine side of the island than a one-time protest that lasted only a few days.

When that finally happens, I expect nearly all traffic to continue from Río Gallegos south through Chile to the Argentine side of the island - especially since any ferry from Punta Loyola would have to navigate the wild waters of the open South Atlantic. My guess is that any such service would suffer frequent postponements, and eventually be abandoned - even if the Chilean route also requires a (short) ferry crossing at Punta Delgada (pictured above), on the Strait of Magellan.

Winning the Argentine ATM Lottery; Chile's Border Crisis

Having originally planned to spend Saturday night in Chile Chico, I finished updating its entry for the new edition of Moon Handbooks Patagonia by late afternoon and decided that, rather than face immigration and customs bureaucracies on Sunday morning, I would cross into Argentina and spend Saturday night in the town of Los Antiguos - best known for January’s Fiesta de la Cereza (Cherry Festival), which I missed by just a few days.

As it happened, the Cherry Festival was something of a chaos because the crowds who flocked to town found Banco Santa Cruz’s two ATMs ran out of cash - a topic to which I referred in my previous post. When I arrived, though, the tourist office informed me that the situation had resolved itself and, in fact, the access door to the cash machines bore a window sign that said “Cajeros Automáticos con Efectivo” (Cash Available from ATMs). With that reassurance, I paid my hotel bill and ordered an excellent leg of lamb dinner with the Argentine cash I had obtained in Villa O’Higgins a few days earlier. Confident in my ability to withdraw money, I didn’t even bother to hit the ATM before going to sleep.

Perhaps I should have. When I tried the machines Sunday morning, both were out of service and I had spent about a third of the 780 pesos (roughly US$200) I had brought from Chile. Fortunately I was able to purchase gasoline by credit card but, as I contemplated a southbound odyssey on Ruta 40 (“La Cuarenta”), where credit cards are unheard of, I was facing a choice between feeding my face and feeding my internal combustion engine (I could always sleep in my tent instead of a hotel).

When I got to the town of Perito Moreno, about 60 km east of Los Antiguos on the south shore of Lago Buenos Aires, I didn’t bother visiting the Banco Santa Cruz ATM. Instead, I went to the local branch of Banco de la Nación and, after sliding my debit card into the machine, crossed my fingers that it would be more successful this time. In fact, it coughed up 950 pesos (about US$240); though I’m not a gambler, I threw my fists in the air as if I had won the lottery.

Meanwhile, after arriving late yesterday afternoon in El Chaltén, I soon learned the situation has not alleviated here. According to the tourist office, the ATM has once again run out of cash and, though bills are supposedly due to arrive today, one wonders how long they’ll last. In 20 years of coming here, I have never seen so many people - accommodation is hard to find, restaurants are packed with diners lined up outside at 10 p.m., and the newly paved streets are full of pedestrians.

Chile’s Southern Border Crisis
Since last week, when Chilean president Sebastián Piñera decreed a 17 percent increase in natural gas prices, the southernmost Chilean region of Magallanes and Tierra del Fuego has been in an uproar. In this cool climate, its capital city of Punta Arenas and the rest of the region rely on natural gas for home heating and, in response, protestors have blocked access routes in and out of the city, and from the Argentine side of Tierra del Fuego to the Chilean side, as well as mainland border crossings to Argentina.

This has meant major problems for tourists in Torres del Paine, who have had trouble getting back to Punta Arenas for their flights home or across the border to El Calafate, and the park has closed for the time being. It's also a problem for many Argentines and others wanting to return overland from Ushuaia, on the Argentine side of Tierra del Fuego - there’s no way to do so except through Chile, and the ferries from the island to the mainland (pictured above) have also been interrupted.

In a truly ironic gesture, the Argentine government has requested its Chilean counterpart to intervene so that its citizens can return home overland. While I would agree that allowing demonstrators to close an international border is irresponsible, this is exactly what Argentina has ignored for the past several years at the crossing from Gualeguaychú to the Uruguayan city of Fray Bentos. In one sense, the Argentina-Uruguay situation is even worse, as the Argentines abdicated control of who may pass - or not - to the demonstrators.

Breaking News, Wednesday morning: As of Tuesday night, the government and the protestors had tentatively settled the dispute, and roadblocks were being dismantled. Everything, including the various border crossings and access to Torres del Paine, should be back to normal very soon, if it isn't already.

A Bridge Too Near?

From Buenos Aires to Uruguay, the closest overland crossing is the one between the Argentine city of Gualeguaychú (Entre Ríos province), on the right bank of the Río Uruguay, and the smaller city of Fray Bentos, on the left bank. This is, generally, a cheaper way of reaching Uruguayan attractions such as the UNESCO World Heritage Site of Colonia del Sacramento and the capital city of Montevideo, which are only an hour and 2-1/2 hours, respectively, by Buquebús catamaran from Buenos Aires’s Puerto Madero waterfront.

That overland crossing, though, has been closed for four years by Argentine pickets protesting the Botnia pulp plant erected on the Uruguayan side of the border. Since late last month, though, the Puente Internacional General San Martín has been open again to private and commercial traffic so that bus service can once again operate on the most direct route between the two countries. Visitors to Gualeguaychú, even if they don’t plan to continue to Colonia or Montevideo, can at least do a day trip to Fray Bentos, which includes attractions such its as Museo de la Revolución Industrial (the former Liebig’s Extract of Meat factory, pictured above) and the handsome Teatro Young. Likewise, visitors from Uruguay could once again cross the river to enjoy’s Gualeguaychú’s Carnaval del País, a celebration whose exuberant dancers (pictured below at an event in Buenos Aires) are only part of the Rio-type atmosphere. Merchants on both sides of the bridge, at least, should be dancing at the prospect of increased commerce between the cities.

I have written about Gualeguaychú and the Botnia controversy several times, and don’t care too spend much more time on the political intricacies at the local, national, and international level; there’s an excellent summary of this in a recent issue of The Economist. Suffice it to say that, while the bridge is open at present and the two governments are showing good will toward a solution that would include monitoring the river with a third party to break any impasse, it’s not clear that the asambleístas who have recently retreated from blocking the bridge will continue to do so: if, after 60 days, the two governments do not come to a final agreement that’s to their liking, they’ve vowed to resume their blockade.

Pulp Friction: Argentina, Uruguay and The Hague

Just two days before Earth Day, the International Court of Justice in The Hague settled, presumably, a longstanding dispute between Argentina and Uruguay over a pulp plant on the Río Uruguay, the border between the two countries. The Finnish company Botnia built the US$1.1 billion plant in the Uruguayan city of Fray Bentos, across the San Martín bridge from the Argentine city of Gualeguaychú, in Entre Ríos province. Fray Bentos was once the site of the Liebig Extract of Meat Company, which produced canned corned beef that was widely distributed in Europe, and the bouillon cubes known as Oxo; its site is now a museum.

Best known as the home of Argentina’s Carnaval del País (National Carnival), Gualeguaychú has acquired an undesirable notoriety over the past several years as a handful of protestors have, in effect, controlled the border by blocking the bridge over the river. The Court’s Solomonic ruling allowed both sides to claim victory: it agreed with Argentina that Uruguay violated a 1975 treaty by not consulting with Argentina over the plant, but also agreed with Uruguay that there was no evidence that it was causing any pollution whatsoever. Uruguay will not need to move the plant - the most expensive project in Uruguayan history - or pay any sort of compensation to Argentina. It will, however, need to consult with Argentina on any further developments on the fluvial border between the two countries.

The ruling, though, does not touch on the controversial issue of the border blockade, which for four years has virtually eliminated traffic and commerce through what, historically, has been the busiest border crossing between the two countries. In effect, the administration of former President Néstor Kirchner and the current government of his wife, Cristina Fernández de Kirchner, have abdicated control of the border - normally administered by Argentine customs and immigration. Technically, it’s still controlled by customs and immigration, but picketers have blocked the approaches and threatened anyone who wants to travel to Uruguay. Buses from Buenos Aires now have to use more northerly crossings at Colón (100 km north) or Concordia (a further 100 km), adding time and expense to any trip to Montevideo.

The issue, according to an editorial in yesterday's Buenos Aires Herald, is that “Ultimately no court in the world can tell an administration how to deal with the chronic domestic matter of protesters who block roads to voice demands. It is the President who after The Hague must now address the same question pending since 2006: should authorities allow an international bridge to be blocked forever?” According to an article in the Buenos Aires daily Clarín, meanwhile, the intransigent protestors do not appear ready to abandon their blockade, having refused an offer from the governor of Entre Ríos to even discuss the topic.

Meanwhile, Argentine Foreign Minister Jorge Taiana has called on the protestors to respect the Court’s ruling, and Fernández de Kirchner is due to meet with newly elected Uruguayan President José Mujica next Wednesday, a conclave at which the topic will undoubtedly come up. It’s still anybody’s guess, though, whether Uruguayans will be able to attend the 2011 Carnaval in Gualeguaychú.

Who's in Charge Here?

Even as Argentina has returned to a reasonable normality after the political and economic upheaval of 2002, one phenomenon that has endured is the presence of piqueteros (pickets) who block city streets, highways, and bridges to advertise their grievances. Public opinion polls suggest that Argentines are fed up with pickets, and the topic exploded onto the front pages yesterday when the Buenos Aires daily Clarín revealed that Gualeguaychú pickets (known as asambleístas) who have been blocking the international bridge to Fray Bentos, Uruguay, have been issuing "passes" that allow selected parties to cross the bridge. They have also collected "tolls" of up to US$100 for Argentine tourist vehicles to cross into Uruguay.

The asambleístas have, for the last year or so, been blocking the bridge to protest against alleged pollution by a Finnish-built pulp mill, a topic on which I wrote in an earlier post. Recent developments are summarized well in an item in today's Mercopress (in English). The independent Buenos Aires newspaper Perfil provided some surprisingly positive coverage of the Botnia plant in last Sunday's edition, but unfortunately it's not posted to their website.

Uruguay, for its part, is outraged not only that a vital international crossing has been blocked, but also that the Argentine government appears to have abdicated its own authority to control the border (even in the privatization frenzy of the 1990s, nothing quite like this happened). Argentine opposition figures have also been outspoken in their criticism of both the pickets and the government's alleged timidity. The Buenos Aires Herald has editorialized that "the government is tolerating flagrantly lawless behaviour which tramples on one of the most basic norms of Mercosur: the free movement of goods and people."

This coming Monday, I will be hydrofoiling across the River Plate to Uruguay for several days. While the asambleístas were picketing Buquebus's Puerto Madero terminal--with greater government oversight and less disruption than in Gualeguaychú--I purchased a passage to the World Heritage Site of Colonia at the company's Recoleta offices. I may continue to Montevideo and Punta del Este, or else return to Buenos Aires and revisit Uruguay the following week. All of these destinations get coverage in my Buenos Aires guidebook; look here for updates.

Blocking Bridges

The city of Gualeguaychú, a few hours north of Buenos Aires in Entre Ríos province, is known for its raucous Carnaval--it's not Rio de Janeiro, but it's the next best thing for anyone who can't afford going to Brazil. For the last 14 months or so, though, it's been in the headlines because local protestors have blocked the bridge crossing to the Uruguayan city of Fray Bentos.

Fray Bentos, which was the site of the internationally known Liebig meat packing factory for more than a century until its closure in 1979, is home to a new pulp mill built by the Finnish company Botnia. It's a complex story that could fill a doctoral thesis, but the gist is that Gualeguaychú's activists claim that the plant will pollute the Argentine side of the Río Uruguay and beaches on which the city's tourist trade also relies. Both Botnia and Uruguay deny this, and of course the plant has provided many jobs in Fray Bentos.

Uruguay, for its part, argues that blocking an international border is illegal, but the Argentine government has shown little interest in breaking the blockade. It has, though, taken Uruguay to the International Court of Justice to present a case against the mill; Uruguay, in turn, has appealed to Mercosur, the South American common market to which both countries belong, to end the blockade. The blockade is costing Uruguay money, as the buses and private automobiles that bring Argentine visitors during the summer tourist season cannot use the bridge, and alternative overland routes are far more time-consuming.

Pulp mills, of course, have a reputation for environmental contamination. Finland, on the other hand, has a reputation for state-of-the-art technology and especially for openness--it fact, the country sits atop Transparency International's annual anti-corruption rankings. It's worth adding that Transparency International also ranks Uruguay highly, second only to Chile in Latin America. In another interesting survey, Finland came in fourth of 149 countries in Yale University's Environmental Performance Index, while Uruguay came in 36th. Argentina came in 38th, just ahead of the United States.

Only yesterday, Botnia invited the protestors to tour the plant after the NGO Green Cross
concluded that it was built to stringent European standards. The protestors, though, brusquely declined the invitation, and the blockade is likely to continue at least through the southern summer. For travelers, this will mean continued pressure on Buquebus catamaran and ferry services from Buenos Aires to Uruguayan destinations such as Colonia, Montevideo, and Punta del Este, so they should make reservations as far ahead as possible. An alternative is the Cacciola catamaran from Tigre to the Uruguayan city of Carmelo.