Living well

May 16

Somewhere over Central America I switch off the light, and manage to sleep pretty well all the way to Argentina, even sleeping through breakfast. Soon we’re coming in on B.A. I move my watch one hour ahead. Ezeiza airport welcomes me like a long-lost friend – get my passport stamped by a competent passport-stamper, my luggage comes out right away, I’m waved through customs without having to open my bag or even stop, and soon we are greeted by Jean and Val. Smooches all around. We pile into a bus. We’re off to la estancia.

Everyone catches forty winks, but I’m wide-eyed and pass the hour-ish bus ride watching the Argentine countryside. We are traveling in the province of Buenos Aires, which, along with neighboring La Pampa, has the richest farming land in the country. The fields we pass are mostly filled with soybean plants. It’s winter here, so everything is brown.

I see an amazing bird fly across a field. I can’t identify it. Wishing I had Tim or Dad’s encyclopedic knowledge of our wingéd (pron: wing-ED) friends, I decide that I will memorize every interesting bird I see this summer and just look them up when I get home. This one is mid-sized with a big, flat-topped head, brown feathers, and a whitish breast. Then comes along another fascinating bird. I take a mental photo. Then another bird, and suddenly I forget them all. I laugh off that mental photo album idea, but deep down I’m crushed.

We arrive at the estancia. I didn’t know what to expect. The bus turns down a bumpy dirty road that travels a mile and a half through the soy fields into a wooded area. The road is marked with signs that warn explicitly against trespassing: (“if you enter, we will not let you leave.”)

I don’t know exactly what la estancia means in Spanish, but I’d guess “estate.” This estancia is called La Candelaria. It’s a several-hundred acre property of tightly manicured lawns dotted with palm trees and dramatic hunting-themed statues. Estancias were built in the 1800s by wealthy Argentines as estates in the countryside. This is one of the few remaining that is in good shape. The family that owns it today operates it as a corporate retreat. At its center sits an old French castle, complete with garish chandeliers, ornate woodwork, and dungeon. They forgot a kitchen and bathrooms, though.

One of the first things we do is go for a jog. That’s a natural choice for me. I love orienting myself in a new place by jogging around. We start as a big group, and finish up with three of us having a nice run to la ruta (highway).

We’re staying in rooms that are on the other side of the polo fields, about a seven minute walk from the castle. Our rooms are modest but comfortable. The buildings are Spanish-mission style.

This estancia also has a chapel. Ancient family tombs rest inside, amid mouse poop.

There’s also a landing strip. They keep a plane inside a tent.

We go horseback riding. These horses prefer not to move, so this adventure quickly becomes decidedly less adventurous that we imagined.

The food at La Estancia is amazing. For lunch we are served a multi-course “asado,” which translates to roast. Beef here is a big deal. Super big. It’s an Argentine tradition to slow-cook the meat for several hours over an outdoor fire. We are served course after course of meat, followed by desert.

During a pause in the action, I head to my room to read. Pulling back the covers on my bed, I come across a spider the size of a doorknob. He likes my pillow, but I like it better, so I send him packing.

A few hours later we’re back in the dining room: it’s time for “mate” and pies – roughly equivalent to English tea time, just more fattening.

We get a tour of the castle and an orientation to the Argentina program from Jean, Val, and Daniel. Excited!

Other notes: Daniel is hilarious (he also kind of looks like John Kerry), the mosquitoes are ferocious, I am having second thoughts about not getting malaria pills.

We’re back in the dining room again, and eating like kings. Another multi-course meal. Some sort of pumpkin-filled tortillas with cheese. It starts at 9:30 and we don’t finish up till nearly midnight.