RIO GRANDE: FRIDAY, AUGUST 24
We are going away for the weekend. Graciela has rented a cabin in the forest. The forest is inhabited by wolves and bear and mountain lions and packs of wild savage dogs. I will sleep seated in my chair facing the cabin door with a shotgun in my lap.
Or we will confront vast quantities of meat on the grill and I will inhale vast quantities of second-hand cigarette smoke.
Which is most dangerous?
Pepe states that Tierra del Fuego stock trek vast distances in search of fodder: the meat is cholesterol free.
Pepe raises cattle and sheep on a 17000-hectare estancia.
Should I believe him?
Friday, August 24, 2007
TOWARDS FREEDOM
RIO GRANDE: FRIDAY, AUGUST 24
Pepe believes the bone is heeling. Xrays delay the heeling. For now he will leave the cast as it is. In ten days he will split the cast and make a further inspection. The cast will be replaceable. Take it off and I can bathe myself. Put it on and I can put some weight on the foot. I can travel. I must cut my possessions to a minimum. I must make a list. First I must be able to carry my crutches on the chair.
Pepe believes the bone is heeling. Xrays delay the heeling. For now he will leave the cast as it is. In ten days he will split the cast and make a further inspection. The cast will be replaceable. Take it off and I can bathe myself. Put it on and I can put some weight on the foot. I can travel. I must cut my possessions to a minimum. I must make a list. First I must be able to carry my crutches on the chair.
HEY, MY LOVELY, CARE FOR A RIDE?
RIO GRANDE: THURSDAY, AUGUST 22
I am mobile. Pepe had brought a wheelchair. It is a 2008 model drophead sports-coupé of a chair. I do spins. I weave between the tables in the hotel lounge. I make for the kitchen. The wooden doorsill is vertical barrier one centimetre in height. Buff! I back up and attack the sill at speed. Double Buff!
Pepe watches contemptuously.
The art is to lean back on the approach, then forward as you touch the sill – so Pepe instructs me.
I try. Further failure.
I reach for my crutches. More failure - I am trapped by the footrests.
This chair is a deluxe model. It offers many options. I must study the mechanics.
I am mobile. Pepe had brought a wheelchair. It is a 2008 model drophead sports-coupé of a chair. I do spins. I weave between the tables in the hotel lounge. I make for the kitchen. The wooden doorsill is vertical barrier one centimetre in height. Buff! I back up and attack the sill at speed. Double Buff!
Pepe watches contemptuously.
The art is to lean back on the approach, then forward as you touch the sill – so Pepe instructs me.
I try. Further failure.
I reach for my crutches. More failure - I am trapped by the footrests.
This chair is a deluxe model. It offers many options. I must study the mechanics.
A NEED TO FORGET
RIO GRANDE: WEDNESDAY, AUGUST, 22
I am in position, back to the iron rage. A mini cab driver sits opposite at the kitchen table and sips mate.
He is in his fifties. He is from the north. He and his wife have been in Tierra del Fuego for three weeks. She works in a shop. He drives from 7 in the evening to 7 in the morning. Back home there is no work for fifty-year-olds. They had a good life before the crisis of 2001/2. They owned a small house in town and a weekend cottage. Their children expected to attend university. The crash came and the good life ended. In those two years only the rich survived, those with hoarded capital hidden abroad. I travelled through Argentina for six weeks last year. Now I have been here for more than a month. Never have I overheard people talk of those years.
I mention this to three women.
"We want to forget," answers one.
"Yes, we want to forget," agrees the second.
Silence apart from the suck of tin straws in mate…The third says, "There is so much that we wish to forget."
I am in position, back to the iron rage. A mini cab driver sits opposite at the kitchen table and sips mate.
He is in his fifties. He is from the north. He and his wife have been in Tierra del Fuego for three weeks. She works in a shop. He drives from 7 in the evening to 7 in the morning. Back home there is no work for fifty-year-olds. They had a good life before the crisis of 2001/2. They owned a small house in town and a weekend cottage. Their children expected to attend university. The crash came and the good life ended. In those two years only the rich survived, those with hoarded capital hidden abroad. I travelled through Argentina for six weeks last year. Now I have been here for more than a month. Never have I overheard people talk of those years.
I mention this to three women.
"We want to forget," answers one.
"Yes, we want to forget," agrees the second.
Silence apart from the suck of tin straws in mate…The third says, "There is so much that we wish to forget."
KICKED BY A DOCTOR
RIO GRANDE: WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 22
Pepe drops by. He has had a haircut. The result resembles Tierra del Fuego’s pastures: short and blown tufty by the wind.
Pepe asks if my ankle hurts.
How to differentiate between ache and pain?
Pepe believes in direct action. He wears work boots. He swings his artificial leg and hacks the underside of my foot. "Does that hurt?"
"No."
He raps me on the ankle. "Does that hurt?"
"No."
"Good," he says.
I say, "Sometimes it aches in the night."
"Of course it does," says Pepe. "It rests against hard plaster."
I feel foolish. "Right," I say.
Pepe drops by. He has had a haircut. The result resembles Tierra del Fuego’s pastures: short and blown tufty by the wind.
Pepe asks if my ankle hurts.
How to differentiate between ache and pain?
Pepe believes in direct action. He wears work boots. He swings his artificial leg and hacks the underside of my foot. "Does that hurt?"
"No."
He raps me on the ankle. "Does that hurt?"
"No."
"Good," he says.
I say, "Sometimes it aches in the night."
"Of course it does," says Pepe. "It rests against hard plaster."
I feel foolish. "Right," I say.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
GUILTY OF THOUGHT CRIME
RIO GRANDE: TUESDAY, AUGUST 21
I have been sitting in the kitchen, back to a warm old cast-iron range. Fellow residents drop scraps of information. X tells of his father, a writer arrested during the military dictatorship and condemned to ten years in jail. Police ransacked the family home once or twice a month, turned everything upside down, deliberately imprinted their prisoner’s children with fear. At the change of Government, the father was released under amnesty.
X is a close friend of Graciela. They have known each other for years. Graciela learns from me of his father’s arrest.
I have been sitting in the kitchen, back to a warm old cast-iron range. Fellow residents drop scraps of information. X tells of his father, a writer arrested during the military dictatorship and condemned to ten years in jail. Police ransacked the family home once or twice a month, turned everything upside down, deliberately imprinted their prisoner’s children with fear. At the change of Government, the father was released under amnesty.
X is a close friend of Graciela. They have known each other for years. Graciela learns from me of his father’s arrest.
FACADE
three sages
javier, fernando & me
RIO GRANDE: TUESDAY, AUGUST 21
I have been skimming Thorn Tree, the message board for travellers sponsored by Lonely Planet. Many young travellers seek a beach to hang out on with other young travellers, some place cheaper than back home. I wonder what they learn of the countries through which they travel. What do they learn of the people?
Argentina is a favourite of young travellers. They trek the national parks, admire the forests, mountains and glaciers, enjoy the laughter and party spirit of the people.
What they experience is a façade.
javier, fernando & me
RIO GRANDE: TUESDAY, AUGUST 21
I have been skimming Thorn Tree, the message board for travellers sponsored by Lonely Planet. Many young travellers seek a beach to hang out on with other young travellers, some place cheaper than back home. I wonder what they learn of the countries through which they travel. What do they learn of the people?
Argentina is a favourite of young travellers. They trek the national parks, admire the forests, mountains and glaciers, enjoy the laughter and party spirit of the people.
What they experience is a façade.
DUMB GENERALISATIONS
RIO GRANDE: MONDAY, AUGUST 21
Each hour I lie on my bed and do leg lifts. Today I achieve three consecutive series of thirty lifts. While exercising, I cogitate on a piece I have been asked to consider on the difference between young travellers and us oldies. Here is one quick generalisation. Young travellers journey alone by day and gather in the evening to swap war stories. Oldies enjoy exploring in a group with a knowledgeable guide by day and separate in the evening into couples and foursomes
Each hour I lie on my bed and do leg lifts. Today I achieve three consecutive series of thirty lifts. While exercising, I cogitate on a piece I have been asked to consider on the difference between young travellers and us oldies. Here is one quick generalisation. Young travellers journey alone by day and gather in the evening to swap war stories. Oldies enjoy exploring in a group with a knowledgeable guide by day and separate in the evening into couples and foursomes
ILLICIT ENRICHMENT
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RIO GRANDE, SUNDAY, AUGUST 19
Have I made the right decision? Time will tell. Meanwhile I am invited to Sunday lunch by the ex-future novio. Javier drives. We eat in the carport. Warm weather tyres fills one corner by the doors, bits of machinery, planks, kindling, logs. The wood grill runs the full width of the back wall. The long table is loaded with meat: beef, blood sausage, ordinary sausage.
Fellow guests are the Sunday gang. The pregnant grandmother spends the first hour indoors preparing salads: one of Brussel sprouts in olive oil, the other of eggplants and onion, also in oil.
Conversation centres on the previous Governor. He bought votes by creating 7000 non-existent jobs for his supporters. Now he, his wife and brother-in-law are charged with illicit enrichment and the Province must beg funds from Central Government.
Have I made the right decision? Time will tell. Meanwhile I am invited to Sunday lunch by the ex-future novio. Javier drives. We eat in the carport. Warm weather tyres fills one corner by the doors, bits of machinery, planks, kindling, logs. The wood grill runs the full width of the back wall. The long table is loaded with meat: beef, blood sausage, ordinary sausage.
Fellow guests are the Sunday gang. The pregnant grandmother spends the first hour indoors preparing salads: one of Brussel sprouts in olive oil, the other of eggplants and onion, also in oil.
Conversation centres on the previous Governor. He bought votes by creating 7000 non-existent jobs for his supporters. Now he, his wife and brother-in-law are charged with illicit enrichment and the Province must beg funds from Central Government.
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