Coming to the Edge of the World

"I´m glad I packed an extra jacket" - I think to myself - ¨I hope Trevor didn´t listen to me when I told him to pack light."

I realize that it is better to have a little extra weight then to be cold. It is better to be over prepared then under, and this truth is multiplied a 1000x when you are 10,000 km from home. Imagine driving from Portland to the equator. That trip takes you past Los Angeles, through the borders of Mexico, through the jungles of Costa Rica, and on, not stopping for rest in Honduras. Imagine then continuing south, the same distance and the same time that it took you to get to that point at the center of the Earth from Portland. If you did this journey you might find me. It is at this distance so far from home that getting sick from hypothermia is the last thing I want.

It´s not that cold here, but I like Labs a lot.

Getting off the bus in Barlioche we step into a new world, what seems like a new country - how can this be the same Argentina in which I was only hours before comfortable wearing a tank top and capris. The bitter cold is made worse by a lake front wind that picks up sticks and throws a grey sand that covers the ground. At first we think this grainy light substance is sand but we are told that it is remnants from the June Volcano that spewed smoke and ash into the sky from the Puyehue-Cordon Caulle volcanic range in southern Chile, as if the long lasting, backstage rivalry that exists between the people of these two countries has been absorbed into the emotions of the eternally connected landscapes. This ferocious mountain that is a part of the Andes and has taken the lives of many animals and of much plant-life, and has disrupted the economy that relies on an influx of tourism, has, I have been told, offered a bright future once a process of natural fertilization of the soil that only ash can offer has been completed. And I am told that this will one day bring life to an abundance of new vegetation, nutritious food for many species of animals, and a great crop for farming and a great future to the people of the region.

From the bus stop we walk 4km into town to look for a place to stay. We pass stray dogs fighting in the street and chasing taxis and motorbikes that don´t stop for us when we cross the streets- my blood preassure drops a bit with relief as these instance make me certain that yes, I am still in Argentina and not some unknown universe.

We see folk with dust masks over their nose and mouths trying not to breathe in the ash that still floats in the atmosphere. Each breath I take I wonder the oxygen to sulfur ratio, and I tie my lucky bandana around my face like I have seen the cowboys do in the Westerns. It was a sight to see on the trip here down route 40 through the barren temperate deserts of the provinces of Rio Negro, and Chubut. The bus cruised along the old windy highway splitting through what seemed to be a thick light obscuring fog but in reality it was ash that was concealing the sun. I don´t even know now if it was desert at all, or just a waste land of what used to be vibrant in green valleys and yellow lillies, now covered in a layer of ash.

This Image was taken in June right after the Eruption. This isn´t snow.

I wonder if this is what the locals saw before me. I wonder what the natives might have seen when they traveled these planes and fished these seas.

Supposedly these early Indiginous people have been living here since close to 10,000 B.C.! Rumors exists that these men and women were a people of giants, they are claims of 9 to 12 feet in height. When Magellan first arrived with the European explorations of America these reports spread across the Colonies and back to France and England. They named the region "Patagonia" meaning "The Land of Big Feet." But like a game of telephone these reports were skewed acounts of the truths, and most of the frenzy died down after more accurate documents found described a gentle people who were indeed tall, but only 6 foot 6 at the tallest member.
So now I wonder what these early Patagonians saw, and I wonder what they must have thought when they first saw Magellan and his crew of light skinned, light haired men dressed in strange dress. I wonder if a formal meeting ever even took place - if they had learned from eachother, how would you explain such drastically incorrect rumors?

Back to reality, here I am now in the Alaska Hostel 7.5 kilometers outside of the Barlioche city center. For dinner I cooked for my friend the Spanish Torilla dish that I had learned from my host-mom; potatoes, eggs, spinache, sausage cooked together into a cake- to him it is a breakfast omelete, but to me it is a classic Argentine dinner. This harty meal was needed after a hard, yet gorgeous, 25km bike ride through Barlioche.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rR-tOVm0ywM

At a stove down the kitchen a Swedish couple stir-fried Risotta rice with green olives and mushrooms, while a late arriving group of Israeli girls mixed togther some concotion that included corn, green peas, and brown rice. I tasted a bit of each, and each had a very distinct taste, one was salty, and one had a lemon-zing, and I imagine that these are flavors in which they were taught to cook from their cultures. Every person that I meet while I am traveling, wether it is at the hostel or in the city has an interesting story to tell, like the Hawaian guy who has seen the giant tortouses of The Galopagos Islands, the salt-flats of Bolvia that are so blue you can´t distinguish the sky, and hopes to travel to Tailand where he may be able to help the elephants become reintroduced into their natural enviornment. By traveling I am able to interact and make friends with young people from around the world, who I find are just like myself. I can see myself in them, I can learn what I want to learn. It would be too easy to stick around Oregon and find myself a future that I would be ¨satisfied with.¨ I think for now, until I can know for sure what I want to do with myself, I will keep looking for clues around me that will help tell me my future, clues that can only be found as I travel.

Until Next Time, ¡Que tengan muchos días magnifico!

- Philip Muir