I’ve never been one for the “holidays,” and have normally
worked through them – one of my greatest frustrations, on the road, has been
the week of enforced inactivity between Xmas and New Year’s, when it’s
difficult or impossible to accomplish much in updating my Moon Handbooks to Argentina,
Buenos
Aires, Chile
and Patagonia.
I’m always operating on deadline, with limited time to explore and revise my
coverage of the cities, towns, parks and associated attractions in the
countries I’ve grown so attached to, and the virtual loss of a week when it’s
almost impossible to meet with anybody can be frustrating.
The best-case scenario, often, is to retreat to my room,
which is easiest when I’m in Buenos Aires, glued to the computer in my own
apartment. It’s also a risky time of the year in the Argentine capital, not
because of high crime but rather because of uncontrolled
fireworks that, during last night’s celebrations, led to 57 emergency room
visits. It gets worse at New Year’s Eve, when the reckless airheads start
tossing firecrackers from their balconies into the streets.
Alternatively, I’ll stay in a quiet Chilean town such as Villarrica,
hoping to polish some of the work I’ve already accomplished. Perhaps the most
memorable holiday I’ve spent was
December 24, 1998, when I was the only visitor in the campground at Chile’s Parque
Nacional Nahuelbuta (pictured above), home to the largest coast range
concentration of the pewen or monkey-puzzle tree (Araucaria araucana). That may
have been the only place I’ve ever experienced the peace and calm that, ideally
and often wrongly, so many people associate with this time of year.
This year, having returned from Buenos Aires about ten days
ago, I’m passing the holiday period in the cool, damp winter of Northern
California where, however, there’s one enduring reminder of Argentina. With the
heavy rains of the past week, we’ve experienced an invasion
of Argentine arts in the kitchen and, to a lesser extent, in the bathrooms.
Argentines themselves may find it increasingly difficult to travel abroad
because of foreign currency restrictions, but their native insect colonies are
a permanent presence here.
Explaining the Looting
As Argentines continued to argue over the causes of the wave
of looting that took place over the past several days, I concluded that “If
you don’t know what’s going on, well, you’re not alone.” One far more astute
observer than I has pointed out the difficulties of assigning blame or
responsibility in Argentina’s byzantine street politics – the Argentine-born
Chilean-American novelist and playwright Ariel Dorfman, in an
interview with Argentina’s Ñ magazine, was asked the following question: “You
have said that nobody has been able to explain Peronism to you in a
reasonable manner. How would you explain it to a third party?”
Dorfman, whom I know slightly, gave the following response:
“If I could explain that to a second party, or third, or a fourth, I might have
written a best-seller about it.”
1 comment:
Wayne, Annie & I spent Christmas 1978 at the Yachting Club in Villarica and had a lovely time. Rooms ranged from US$15, bare bones, on up to $32, private bath and lake view. The hotel food was splendid. As well, we haunted a no-name bakery next to the Hotel Central that offered empanadas, humitas, pizza, and melt-in-your-mouth kuchen, 30 cents US a slice.
The yachting Club was chock-a-block with vacationing Chilenos celebrating the holidays, plus two gringo mochileros. Dan
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