Salta y Jujuy Day 2

We got up bright and early for a long day. We stopped to see some viaduct bridge that some engineer built (he was born in America and moved to Argentina, I don't remember his name...now if he were a biologist I might be able to recall it). The guide told us that a lot of people died during the construction of the railway (extensive railway that includes this bridge) and are buried along the way.


It was COLD... especially because it was morning. Argentina is going into its fall season and the altitude was really high- I should have thought to take a jacket or something but everything about the whole trip was last minute. In fact, I went to the travel agent and arranged everything the day we left.

Now to the fun parts of the trip:

The scenery was gorgeous:

We stopped to see pre-Incan ruins near Santa Rosa de Tastil. The people of Tastil lived here in the 1400s and up and disappeared one day- no one really knows why (similar to the story of the Anasazi in the U.S.).

Can I just say I LOVE this kind of stuff? I could have spent hours here walking around and exploring.  If biology wasn't so cool I'd be an archaeologist (do I sound like a dork or what?).

You can see the ruins of the buildings and houses that were once here; I think it housed over 2000 people.

There were all kinds of pottery sherds laying around! It was also fun to look for flakes.  Maybe my archaeologist friend Brian could leave a comment and explain why it's pottery "sherds" and not "shards"??  - If he's reading this.

So fun in fact, I couldn't take the time to look up and smile.

We stopped in the town of San Antonio de los Cobres for lunch.  There were women outside selling things... I bought a nice shawl or ruana hand made out of llama wool.

As we drove to the next site we saw the llamas.

The little ribbons and bows tied on signify which llama belongs to which owner.

We tried some llama while up north... It was actually pretty good.

We next headed for Las Salinas- the salt flats.  

The little pueblitos along the way were more interesting to see than the salt flats themselves- we have salt flats in Utah.

Here is a chapel and some other buildings of a tiny little pueblo we stopped at just before the salt flats.

There were some cute kids...

This little boy was smiling the whole time... really sweet.

My favorite part of the whole weekend was seeing little pueblos like this one.  It was nice to get out of the big cities and see what rural parts of Argentina are like.

So we got to the salt flats...

 

and there were groups of men selling rock etchings of different scenes of the region- I bought a cool etching of vicuñas

Vicuñas are part of the camelid family including camels, llamas, alpacas, and guanacos.

We saw some vicuñas on our way to the salt flats... they are very similar to guanacos but guanacos have black faces.

The guide was telling us that the parents and grandparents of these people worked around the salt flats (the salt is mined and the "dirty salt" is used commercially to cure leather) went blind from the intense glare and reflection of the sun.  He also said that in the future these men would probably go blind from being out there all day everyday... it was sobering to think about.

Amanda was really starting to piss me off...

So I decided to smoosh her and bite her in half.

On the way to Purmamarca- the town where we spent the night, we went through the mountains. The highest elevation was 4170 meters, or 13,681 feet.  The elevation in Salt lake city is about 4,330 feet- about three times less than where we were at.  The air was thin- we were passing out and falling asleep in the car.  When we'd walk up a few stairs or a tiny hill we'd be huffing and puffing.

The scenery was absolutely gorgeous!

We stayed the night in Purmamarca.  

There were all kinds of fun things to buy in the city's plaza.  There is a phrase from one of the greatest Metallica songs ever written:

"Anywhere I roam,

where I lay my head is home"

Well, 

Anywhere I roam,

I shop.

It was chilly- I needed an alpaca sweater and a sheep's wool, hand-woven blanket.

Purmamarca is famous for its beautiful landscapes and for the famous Cerro de los Siete Colores, or hill of seven colors.

It was a busy day but we stayed up late and went to a bar/restaurant to listen to some folk music.  The music of northern Argentina is very similar to that of Bolivia- they use a lot of the same instruments and rhythms.

We woke up slightly less early the next day and prepared for another day of adventurous sight-seeing...

Salta

Fuimos al Norte por el fin de semana pasado.

We went North over the weekend- to the provinces Salta and Jujuy (pronounced who-whooey). It was absolutely gorgeous!

It seems EVERY city big or small has a plaza in the center; this is the Plaza 9 de Julio (July 9th marks the date of Argentina's Independence from Spain). Most plazas have a cathedral, cabildo (like a city building), justice building, statue(s)/water fountains, and then restaurants and other businesses.


In the Plaza there was a tent with veterans from La Guerra de Las Malvinas (war Argentina fought with Britain for the Falkland Islands). I found out today from my Spanish teacher that this Thursday, April 2 is a dia feriado (holiday) commemorating La Guerra de Las Malvinas.

There were posters and pictures as well as the veterans with old newspapers explaining things from their point of view.


This is the cathedral...

I don't remember what building this was (below) but the architecture was really beautiful.

Lots of students were on break and hanging out in the Plaza.



"Niños del Llullaillaco"

There was a really incredible museum (El Museo de Arqueología de Alta Montaña) in the Plaza that told of the archaeological discovery of three Incan mummy children found in the Andes- "Niños del Llullaillaco." Llullaillaco (name of a volcano) is a Quechua (native dialect) word "Llulla" signifies lie/false, and "llaco" is water- put together it's "false water" or something like that.

If you google the Niños del Llullaillaco, it says that three Incan children were sacrificed almost 500 years ago; according to the museum and information presented there, Incans didn't believe they were "sacrificing" the children or feeding them to the gods. The Incas performed religious ceremonies before putting the children (while alive) into the ground; when the children went into the cavernous structures, the Incas believed they went to paradise with the gods and didn't die (according to the way we think of death) - it was considered a great honor.

These "sacrifices" didn't occur often and the Incans chose children because they were considered to be the most pure. The museum mentioned that the children were from noble families because their skulls were slightly cone-shaped (from wearing a device that bent the skull that way).

Here is a picture of a 15-year old girl nicknamed La Doncella (the maiden). She was the only mummy on exhibit (the museum rotates them so they aren't all on exhibit at the same time).

The archaeological site where these mummy children were found is the highest altitude site in the world; the children are the best preserved Incan mummies as well. They were frozen- DNA analysis and analysis on their blood and organs has been done.

Though a lot of the information was in Spanish, there were some English translations. It was all very, very fascinating. Visiting the museum was probably my favorite thing we did in the city.



We then went to the city museum; it was a collection of a bunch of random stuff... Amanda wasn't very interested.


This is a picture of one of the cathedrals in Salta. It was built in the 1700s (I think) and was described as the most "outlandish" cathedral in Salta.


We ate at a place across from the cathedral; we tried humita en chala. Humita en chala (en chala meaning wrapped up like this in corn husk) is quite different from a tamale but very good. The masa is wetter- the waiter said it is made with fresh corn, not dried corn masa as used in tamales. It had fresh corn and cheese in the middle; humita is regional food but can also be found in Córdoba (it was really good).

We went back to the hostel relatively early (11:00 ish) because we had to get up way early the next day (6:00 AM). Y'all may not think 6:00 AM is that early but it is when regional custom is to go to dinner around 10:30 PM or later.

Dia Feriado "Holiday"

I've been wanting to blog about a recent holiday that was celebrated on March 24- a day set aside for remembering the Golpe de Estado (coup) of 1976, when the military dictatorship took over.

I have two main informants here in Argentina- Gaby y Laura. They are the people I ask questions about all things Argentine- the culture, customs, where to buy something, the history the politics (I also learn Spanish from Gaby y Laura). The day after the holiday, Laura brought in some information about La Dictadura to read and discuss during our lesson. I learned many interesting things- as we were discussing, it eventually became Laura narrating to me what things were like (though she was born just before all of this occurred). I'm going to talk about what she told me (keeping in mind that she gave me general ideas and not precise details)

Isabel Perón was the second wife of Juan Perón (his first wife being Eva/ "Evita" of course) was elected president of Argentina after Juan died. During her presidency many economic, social, and political problems arose; Laura told me there were military/political factions fighting- killing each other, bombing and kidnapping, things were in chaos.

Proceso de Reorganización Nacional- El Proceso

When the military dictatorship took over they called their reforms the National Reorganization Process- what is referred to as El Proceso.

Laura told me that during this time (1976-1983) approximately 30,000 Argentines disappeared- they were kidnapped, tortured, and murdered. A few main provinces such as Buenos Aires, Córdoba and Santiago del Estero(?) were affected by El Proceso- provinces with lots of students, political scientists, and journalists. I was told that students, journalists, political scientists- anyone who expressed sentiments or ideas opposed or not in-line with those of La Dictadura, were taken, killed, or tortured.

This sign was posted before the holiday on a building directly behind the mall- very close to where we work.

It signifies: 33 years since the coup, neither forgotten, neither pardoned.

On the 23rd of March, I was walking through the Plaza San Martín and I saw people painting these in preparation for the holiday:




The night of the 24th, there was a large march/parade with all kinds of people carrying banners and flags (FYI- pretty sure the rainbow flag here is a symbol of Andean culture, it was common to see it up north). Some of the banners had messages against violence, abuse- many were for derechos humanos (human rights).




In the Plaza San Martín, some celebrated by sitting in a circle and sharing a joint (no! we weren't "some")


There was choripan...


There were couples gettin' friendly (we always take pictures because we're still not used to the fact that PDA's are totally acceptable- you see people seriously making out on side of the street all the time).



Many children were taken during El Proceso- they were kidnapped and often times given to families of military members or to families with connections to the military. Pregnant women were tortured and their babies taken.

Madres de Plaza de Mayo

When El Proceso ended, a group of women calling themselves the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo organized and would protest in the Plaza de Mayo in Buenos Aires- I've posted some picures from my Buenos Aires trip:

They would march outside this building (like the White House of Argentina except it's the Pink House-  literally, it's the Casa Rosada where the President resides).  The Mothers are a group dedicated to finding children and other loved ones that disappeared during the dictatorship and reuniting them with their families.

My Spanish teacher Laura told me the story of a little girl that was playing in her house while her family's maid was sweeping the floor with the TV on. There was a news special with a woman being interviewed in the Plaza de Mayo.  The woman was holding up a picture of her lost granddaughter that had been kidnapped during the dictatorship (the girl's mother was killed); the maid watching the TV stopped in shock and started crying because it was the same little girl inside the house playing!  She reported to the newspaper and helped reunite this little girl with her real family.

Laura told me that there were many cases like this, and many cases where children didn't want to leave their "military" families or have anything to do with their real families.  Imagine growing up and then finding out your "family" kidnapped you from your real parents that were probably tortured and murdered. 

Loco para Criollos

It started when we went with our professors to have an asado in Cuesta Blanca...

and now,

It's an Obsession

We tried criollitos (criollos) for the first time in Cuesta Blanca and now we eat them, think about them, dream about them... ALL THE TIME!

This is a criollito con azucar from the asado lunch in Cuesta Blanca:


Since then, we have made a point of going into a bunch of panaderias (bad, bad idea-I know!) to try their criollos. Criollos are unique to the Córdoba Province, they can only be found here.

This my friends and loved ones back home,

This is the one.

The panaderia where these are made is on the way from Spanish class to the lab. Every time I walk past, the door is open and a welcoming scent envelopes me; I mosey on in to have a look. What do you know? A pan of criollos is sitting on the counter- in the pan they were baked in. Warm, flaky, buttery, a bazillion calories- but who's counting?

These aren't just any criollos...

They are criollos hojaldre... hojaldre is puff pastry. Can you now understand my obsession? To my understanding, puff pastry is a special dough with tons of butter folded in to get that flaky texture.

Can you see the layers?

Not All Criollos Are Created Equal:

The only reason we didn't toss this one right away, was because I needed it for this post, so I educate you all on the art of the criollo (I know, I'm full of it but don't write me off yet). It was dry, hard, and not made with butter... It was made with some other type of fat. It is a criollo común.

Don't get me wrong, criollos común are very good. The ones from the panaderia on the way home are the best criollos común in Córdoba (so I was told by my professor as we stopped in one day).

This is a better example of a criollo común.





Another criollo hojaldre (from a different panaderia). Very good, but not as good as

The One.

They're supposed to be very easy to make; I will learn before coming home so you too can be

Loco Para Criollos

Peña

Check this out:

I took this at a restaurant/bar where there was live folk music.  The singer was playing a "chacarera" and asked if anyone in the audience knew how to dance it; a mother and her son volunteered.

¡Marco Antonio Solis... Estoy Tuyo!

This is Marco Antonio Solis.

He is a Mexican singer/songwriter that is famous throughout Latin America.  I was a fan of his music before coming to Argentina and was excited to see pirated DVDs of his music videos sold along the streets here.

I was so excited when a friend told me that he was coming to Córdoba!

So were all the middle-aged/old ladies! 

They would rush to the front of the stage to hand him teddy bears and flowers.  A woman behind me was yelling "Estoy Tuyo!" (I'm Your's)  and "Te Amo!"(I love you... but you probably knew that).

There was an occasional husband...

I wasn't the youngest person... let's just say Marco's got a more mature fan base- but no importa, I love him anyway.

I couldn't find ANYONE to go with me (it's mostly my fault, I waited until two days before to ask people if they wanted to go, and by then the affordable seats were gone).  Everyone I talked to said they were fans and wanted to go, but couldn't make it for whatever reason.

So I went by myself.  The day before the concert I asked my Spanish teacher/friend Gabby which bus to take to get to the Superdomo- I made my way up there and after asking two or three different people I found the boleteria (ticket counter- which was across the street in a shopping mall and hidden in some wacko department store).  

I saw a picture of Marco and there was a white piece of paper over it with something written on it... my heart sank, I had a feeling it said "sold out!"  I asked anyway.

They told me there were no tickets left... I asked again real let-down and whiny

 "No hay nada?"

Another girl behind the desk overheard and said that yes, there were 3 tickets left!  They were on the floor and expensive- but no importa right?  (They were actually quite a bit cheaper than when he came to Salt Lake a few years ago).  I bought one, and a lady and her son behind me bought the other two.)

  

At first I was hesitant about going alone (and debated going to a church dance instead) but then I thought to myself, Why the hell not go? I'm in Argentina,  I've got to live it up! 

I am  SO glad I went.

He has an amazing voice and was excellent live. I don't completely understand Spanish (songs are tricky for me because you can't translate all the words literally- there's a lot more you have to puzzle out to get the entire meaning) but the music was absolutely beautiful.

I had been listening to his CD days before (and now as I write this post).

I LOVED IT...LOVED IT...LOVED IT!

We all went home happy.

Vamos Instituto!

(I'm posting this Sunday night but backdating it so it looks like I updated my blog Thursday)

Martín is a lot of fun.  We were in the lab working and mentioned wanting to go to a football game... Martín is an Instituto fanatico (Instituto is one of the teams in Córdoba- they aren't like a "major league" team but that doesn't seem to matter to their fans.

We got to the cancha (stadium) about 15 or 20 minutes before the game... it wasn't enough time because we didn't get in until 15 or 20 minutes into the game.  I didn't mind because it was very entertaining to watch the crowd's reaction.  Men would yell and whistle, shout obscenities and so on; even though Martín had earphones and was listening to the game, he was anxious and couldn't hold still because he wanted in.

We were literally hearded into a single-file line before entering the cancha.

The minute we got into the cancha Instituto scored a goal...Martín literally ran, jumped and shouted- as did the rest of the audience.  I enjoyed this game more than the one in Buenos Aires; it was smaller but we went with locals and sat with people that desperately rooted for their team.  The Riverplate game in Buenos Aires was fun, but we didn't get as close to the action.

Amanda and I had to be the only extranjeras in our section... we were there snapping photos and recording video while everyone else was intently watching the game.

I snook this photo of Martín; there 10 minutes or so of the game and he kept his fingers crossed willing Instituto to hold the lead until the end.  Ironically, his girlfriend Marisel is a fanatica of the Talleres- Instituto's rival team; she didn't come with us to the game.

I'm telling you, watching the audience was the funnest part!

I'm thinking I might try to sneak some flares into the next BYU game I go to... bring a little "culture" to good old Provo.

Martín said he'd teach us the canciones/cheers for the next time.  We listened really closely but just couldn't pick out the words.

Instituto won!  The cheering and song singing didn't stop after the game... crowds of people were jumping and cheering as they exited the stadium; as we walked home (the cancha is 12 blocks from our house) people were cheering and waiving Instituto banners out of their cars.

I forgot to make my Provo, Utah banner to hang on the fence... next time.