Welcome to our little blog. It will be a new way for you to keep track of what we are up to, like thesis writing and moving to Bosnia. Also, I’m planning to put up all our travel messages going way, way back. Stay tuned. This could take a while.
Since the beginning of this trip we have had to make difficult decisions to move on without seeing everything we wanted to see. After all, there is so much to see on this continent it could take a lifetime to do it all. We came here for a limited time and, more importantly, with a limited budget. Backpacking has been rewarding but also tiring. The time has come to move on. Today we bought our tickets home.
It was not an easy decision. When we started we had planned to continue on to Ecuador. However, after we got here it quickly became evident that there was just too much to see and the distances were too great. For example, I believe we could have spent the entire two months we have been traveling in Argentina, and we still couldn’t have seen everything. In Argentina we didn’t see the colonies of penguins, or go whale watching. We didn’t visit Iguazu Falls, or Ushuaia, the southern-most city on earth. Did you know that in Argentina you can even go scuba diving to an underwater petrified forest?! I mean, how cool does that sound? The same applies to Bolivia and Peru - they require at least six weeks each. We set out to do the impossible, moved fast in our attempt to do it, but it’s not gonna work out as we planned. It was worth a try.
In 65 days we have covered incredible distances in four countries. North to south we’ve gone over 2000 miles. It doesn’t sound like much, but in terms of latitude, it’s about the same as going from New York City to Managua, Nicaragua. East to west I don’t know the measurements, but we’ve crossed a continent - from Buenos Aires in the east, to Lima on the Pacific Coast. Not too shabby, in my opinion.
We’ve traveled by bus and boat, plane and train, taxi, bicycle and more than I care to think about on foot. Bus was our most popular mode of transport, with over 110 hours of our time in South America spent on bus seats, some quite comfortable, others that we’re happy to forget. We stayed in 23 hostels in 22 different places. We’ve taken over 2300 photos, but probably only 300 good ones. We must have consumed 100 liters each of bottled water and eaten in who knows how many restaurants, most of them acceptable. I won’t tell you how much money we’ve spent.
So why are we coming home? Aside from being tired, our hearts aren’t in it anymore. Our mindset has changed and we are looking forward to the next step: to finding jobs, getting an apartment, student loans, grocery shopping, cell phones and all the other mundane aspects of a life we haven’t lived for a couple of years now. We are looking forward to having our own space again and being sedentary for at least a couple of years. Living with a host family (in Moldova and DC) has been great, but, well, we’re ready for something else, and we need to get started making that happen.
Also we want to be with our friends and family. After Moldova, we were ready to wander around a warmer setting and see some new scenery. But now we are thinking that this period of free time might be better spent with the people that we missed so much during our two years in the Peace Corps.
One of the points I haven’t touched on in previous messages is that we’ve met a lot of interesting people during our travels. We never spend much time with them, but they all leave an impression. There was Kath and Nic, the Australian couple that bought and van in Chile, ripped out the seats and tossed in a matress and are just going to drive around for a year or so. Nick and Trevor, two socialists taking a semester off from Brown University to travel the Che Guevara route, more or less. And Valeria, the Chilean rock’n'roll singer. And the nice, older Argentine couple that picked us up as we were walking down the highway on a hot day.
Of course, we’ve seen some amazing stuff in the past two months. It’s hard to say what the highlights were, but what stands out in my mind are all the vibrant colors created by mother nature - the greatest artist ever. The bright white of the salt flats to the deep black of starless nights. The thousands of shades of green in the rainforest and a thousand shades of blue in the sky. Mountains in a rainbow of colors - red, yellow, green and purple - and water ranging from pink to green to blue to brown. We’ve seen a lot on this trip.
But starting next week you can reach us again in Washington, DC.
There will always be more traveling, we’re not worried about that. I’m 28 years old and I’ve been to 30 different countries. I have nothing to complain about. We’ll be back to all these places. Maybe not soon, maybe not for this long, but we’ll be back, and we’ll do it right.
Until then, signing off,
Marc
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Not really. In fact, we are not really adventure sports kind of people. I can’t even remember the last time I went looking for an adrenaline rush. Also, we are not bikers. We don’t own bikes. I think the last time I went for a bike ride was with my friend Seth down Connecticut Avenue and into Rock Creek Park. That must have been at least 13 years ago.
Bolivia is a country of superlatives. Most of them involve the “world’s highest” something or other. But we chose to tackle a slightly different superlative. We went mountain biking on the world’s most dangerous road!
A decade ago or more, the World Bank (hi Mom) did some analysis and based on the ratio of traffic deaths to overall traffic, it determined that a certain road in Bolivia is the most dangerous in the world. The route goes north from La Paz down the side of a mountain into the rainforest. In some parts it is only 12 feet wide, with straight 2000 foot drops on one side. And that’s for two-way traffic. You are required to drive on the left so that the driver on the outside has the best concept of where his left tires are in relation to the edge. Generously, the World Bank gave Bolivia $120 million to build a new road, but no one uses it because it has to many ups and downs and takes longer.
Now, because our parents are reading this, I should clarify that we didn’t just rent some bikes and take off on our own. We went with a tour company that does this trip everyday. It is one of the big tourist attractions in La Paz.
The ride started at over 4600 meters of altitude, next to a lake set among snowy peaks. The first hour of the ride is all asphault. And downhill. Wow, was it fast! You could just speed down, slowing only slightly for the curves. Our guide said we reached speeds approaching 50 miles per hour. It was awesome, if a little cold.
Then it started to rain. Cold rain at high altitudes is not comfortable, but we were well-dressed and I was having so much fun that I barely even noticed how wet I was. But next came the only uphill part of the ride. It wasn’t steep, so I thought I would try it. After about 200 meters of pedaling uphill at an altitude of over 13,000 feet, I decided it was time to put the bike on top of the car and get a ride. That’s the service we paid for, right? That, and the free t-shirt.
It continued to rain on and off and as we went down. The road switched to gravel and dirt, which was a lot harder on the butt cheeks than the asphault was at the beginning. Let me add that a lot has changed since the last time I got on a bike. I used to think that all those shocks and springs and disk brakes on mountain bikes were just for show - a good reason to charge more for them. Well, this was the first time I have ever been on a full suspension bike, and it was great. Big difference. Nonetheless, my butt still hurts. And my hands hurt from holding onto the handle bars so tight.
As if the thrill of going 30 mph next to a thousand-foot cliff wasn’t enough, the scenery was fantastic. And how it changed. We started in high rocky peaks, looking down on the clouds below us. Then we were in the clouds and the rain. We rode just a few feet in front of waterfalls dropping from hundreds of feet above us. Occasionally, we rode behind them or even right under them. We rode through creeks that are slowly eroding the road. We passed all sorts of vegetation, butterflies and birds.
For most of the ride, I didn’t have what Bolivians would call “cajones” big enough to really take my hands off the brakes. Not that it made that big a difference. After so much downhill, the momentum really takes control. Sure, you can slow the bike down enough to control it, but coming to a full stop took a fair amount of preparation and effort. But the group stopped for snacks (and repairs), and I made a few stops just to admire the scenery. At the end, when it had stopped raining and the road was dry, I finally let gravity do its thing. It was awesome.
Just when I thought I could really get into this mountain biking thing, we had to leave the road for a narrow track down to our finishing point. It was a steep track on the side of a hill, where I had to dodge roots and rocks and make hairpin turns. That I didn’t like. We both ended up walking our bikes down most of that path. Mountain biking is not for us, but downhill gravel road biking we can manage.
Overall we covered 64 kilometers and over 3400 meters of vertical descent. We ended up in a beautiful jungle lodge with monkeys, parrots and other animals. They offered us hot showers, warm lunch and cold beer. Plus a swimming pool. It was really an amazing day. Not perfect - Chrissy fell once (not over the edge) - but we agreed that after the bruises heal, we would do it again.
After that adventure, we sought some well deserved R & R on the Isla del Sol - Island of the Sun - on Lake Titicaca. But it rained. In fact, the first night we were there it snowed and sleeted. So we didn’t get to do some of the hiking we hope to do, but it was still a beautiful and tranquil place. Now we are in Copacabana, not the famous one from the song, which is in Brazil, but the one in Bolivia. Tomorrow we will enter Peru and head to Cusco to visit Machu Pichu. We are very excited about that.
One other update. That bomb blast was actually one block away from us, not on our same block. It leveled the inside of the building but the beautiful colonial facade is still standing. And it didn’t blow out the windows in any of the neighboring buildings. The second blast site, which we saw as we were leaving La Paz, looked much worse, with rubble littering the streets and windows missing in all of the nearby buildings. Bolivians were surprised because they feel their country is one of the more peaceful in South America, especially now that they have a native president. So they were not surprised to learn that these attacks were the work of foreigners.
More soon.
- Marc
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Since many of you aren’t familiar with the backpacker lifestyle, I thought I would take this chance to give you an idea of the places where we stay. Now, I can’t claim to be an expert in the matter. Certainly there are others out there who have much more experience with this kind of traveling than we do. But I’m getting more familiar with it every day.
Let me start by saying that we aim to pay no more than $10 per person per night everywhere we go. In Chile, we paid closer to $15 per person each night, sometimes a little more and sometimes a litte less. In Argentina we usually got exactly what we are looking forward for that price, and sometimes we paid less. Bolivia is cheaper. Twenty dollars gets us a Holiday Inn-style room, with maid service, towels, shampoo and cable tv. Peru will be a mix; the touristy areas around Machu Pichu are rather expensive, but other parts are cheaper.
Let me start by saying that Chrissy and I tend to make reservations in advance. Not all backpackers do this; many just show up in a town and walk around until they find a bed. Bed, is the key word. Many hostels have barracks style rooms with 6-10 beds, so you share a room with a bunch a strangers. That’s a fine way to travel if you are alone and you want to meet people, or if you are in a large group. Not so nice when traveling as husband and wife. So we have been making reservations because we always try to stay in double rooms - just the two of us. Though we still have to share a bathroom, usually. For a while it was working out for us everywhere we went.
Some of the more traditional places we stayed are old houses where most of the rooms have been converted into bedrooms. The bathrooms are shared, and there is usually a kitchen, a place to eat, a living room, and some sort of outdoor space for people who smoke, either a patio or a balcony. Sometimes these double as a place for a barbeque, though I haven’t seen anyone grilling anything yet. This description pretty much covers the hostels in Valparaiso and Santiago, as well as in Villa La Angostura, Argentina.
Other spots have been a little more interesting. In Bariloche, we stayed in a hostel that occupied the top floor of an office building - the tallest building in town. Most of the rooms and the balcony had amazing views of the mountains and lakes around the area. Other than that, it was fairly average.
San Martin de los Andes is a popular destination for Argentine and Chilean tourists during the summer, so we couldn’t get a reservation. No place would hold a room for us unless we made a deposit via bank transfer, but I was calling on a Saturday, so that wasn’t possible. Finally, one guy offered to hold the room until 3:00, but the only room he had was rather expensive by our standards. So for the first and only time we headed out not knowing where we were going to stay.
When we got off the bus we walked to a couple of the cheaper places, but they were all booked. Just as we were on our way to the expensive place, a little girl started following us. I don’t mean to be cynical, but in my experience in foreign countries, especially in touristy towns, little kids following you generally want money. And I’ve become pretty good at tuning them out. But then she said something that caught my attention.
“Do you need a place to say,” she said.
“Yes, we do.”
“My house is just over here on the corner, and we have a room.”
“Great. Let’s see it,” I said.
And that’s where we stayed. Her parents had an entire separate house with three rooms that they rent out. And no one was staying there. And it was right in our price range. And it was right in the center of town. Funny how things work out.
When we arrived in Chile, we knew we would have to pay a little more for accomodations. In Villarrica, however, the place we stayed was worth every penny and more. Not because the facilities were anything special; it was a fairly average hostel. But the people who run the place are fabulous. It is a run by a Swiss couple who, after spending two years biking around the world, decided they wanted to open a hostel in Chile. They have a daughter and a dog named Fondue who are both accustomed to all the guests and happy to interact. To add to the experience, they have explored every inch of territory around Villarrica and designed dozens, if not hundreds, of tours and activities. They have a computer database of their own tours. You click on hiking and a huge list shows up. You pick one and it tells you how to get there by bus or car or bike. It tells you in details how long and hard the hike is. It shows you photos. It even gives you a topographical chart showing the ups and downs over the kilometers. Amazing stuff! So much better than anything the tourist office offers. To top it off, they serve a wonderful breakfast with homemade breads and jams.
Our next stop, Valdivia, provided a rather different experience. The guidebook described the place as an old mansion with “wildly sloping floors.” That’s an understatement. This place was a huge dilapidated house built around 1903, and it hasn’t had touch of remodeling since. The house has settled in such a way that the crown molding rolls along the hallway ceiling like a wave approaching shore. Entering the kitchen is an uphill climb, but reaching the other side takes you back down the hill. Our room had what I’m sure is the original wallpaper (I took some because it was peeling off anyway). And for a while I thought our chandelier wasn’t hanging straight until I realized the entire house was just leaning towards the back.
As if that wasn’t enough, the family that owns the place lives there also. The wardrobe in our room actually contained someone’s clothes. Three of the four common rooms had well stocked liquor cabinets, and there were always several open bottles of wine in the kitchen. All this liquor was obviously being consumed, but the guests weren’t drinking. The woman who appeared to be in charge was always smoking, and had a deep husky voice of the kind that I thought only existed in the movies. The decor inlcuded many nice antiques, complimented by trashy souvenir plates and a CD collection that was entirely Elvis. It was fine for a couple nights, but we were happy to leave there.
Next stop, Temuco, where we again found ourselves living in someone’s house. With them. Most of the time, we let our hosts know when we are going to make dinner, and then they won’t be there. In this place, though, we were working side by side with the hosts. Fortunately, they were very friendly - engaging us in conversation, asking about what we were making and showing us what they were making, and generally testing Chrissy’s Spanish skills. Turns out that during the rest of the year they host students from the local university. The students pay for full room and board and essentially this place becomes their family for the school year - meals together, watching TV, walking the dogs, etc. Many students return to the same place for all their years at the university, so I suppose the family gets to know them pretty well.
Mendoza is where our luck ran out. Becuase of the wine festival, every place we called was booked. Many didn’t even have beds in the barracks (they call them dorms). So we made reservations for two beds. Then we found a brochure for another hostel that wasn’t in any guidebook. When we called, we were able to get a double room. When we arrived, we found out that room was the garage. Seriously. It was more or less converted into a bedroom, but the walls were thin and the street was right outside so there was no way we could sleep there.
We took our bags and switched to the other place with the dorms. The first night, they couldn’t even put Chrissy and I in the same room. Although it’s not a big deal, we had planned on traveling together so we only have one tube of toothpaste, for example. Being in different rooms makes sharing toothpaste unnecessarily difficult. We switched the next night. Chrissy had the top bunk and I had the bottom.
The big disadvantage of a dorm-style hostel is the lack of privacy and the lack of quiet. If people are getting ready to go out at 2 in the morning, that means they are showering and getting dressed while you’re trying to sleep. It’s not our style. Some hostels have quiet hours, but they are not always enforced. We’re back to making reservations in advance. Double rooms only please.
Cleanliness is another issue. Chrissy has observed that it is very clear at which places the owner is present, keeping an eye on things. They are usually cleaner, with regular help checking up on the status of the kitchen and bathroom and making sure that they are usable. Other places seem to be run by the guests and get cleaned less often. Only one place so far had roaches in the kitchen. We only stayed one night and didn’t cook anything there.
After seven weeks, this lifestyle is getting a little bit tiring. We have met many people who are traveling for six months or even a year. I can’t imagine how I would feel at the end of that much time. In Bolivia, because we can afford it, we have been trying to make reservations at nicer places. Firm beds and private bathrooms make a big difference. And a television every now and then isn’t bad either. Aside from the overnight bus rides, we have always found an acceptable place to sleep so far. Hope to continue that streak.
Sleep well,
Marc
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“I haven’t really had any problems with the altitude, except for breathing and sleeping.”
That was Chrissy at about 13,500 feet last week. We’re in Bolivia, where everything is about altitude. Slowly we are adjusting, but it’s not easy. Simple things like climbing a couple flights of stairs to our room leave us winded and exhausted.
To enter Bolivia from Argentina we had to cross the border on foot because there is no transportation between the two. Except perhaps at Niagara Falls, I don’t think I have ever crossed an international border on foot. It was surprisingly easy, the whole process taking only about 15 minutes. However it looked even easier for the train of locals smuggling stuff across the border. They would load up in Argentina and just walk around the border guards. Maybe they’re allowed to do it, or maybe there are just so many of them that no one tries to stop them, but either way it was quite a sight.
Our first bus ride in Bolivia included a flat tire, not a very good sign. But the scenery where we stopped to change the tire was terrific. Southwestern Bolivia is basically a desert, but with beautiful colored mountains, unique rock formations and endless sky.
To really get a taste of the terrain, we signed up for a four day tour of Bolivia’s southwest. With four other tourists (2 Americans, 1 Italian, 1 Bolivian), our guide/driver and a cook, we piled into an old Land Cruiser and set out to see some of the more remote areas I have ever visited.
We spent the entire four days at altitudes above 11,000 feet, and our highest point was over 16,000 feet. Over the four days we spent a lot of time in that Land Cruiser, so at least we didn’t have to walk much at those heights. It wasn’t the most comfortable trip with eight of us crammed in there, but the views were amazing. On the first day we saw canyons and rock formations unlike anything I imagined possible. Some of it looked like an M.C. Escher drawing or a Salvador Dali painting. And it turned out that was the most boring day.
During the course of the trip we saw moutains ranging in color from deep purple to bright yellow. Occasionally they were covered in snow. There were countless snow-capped peaks in every directions, many over 19,000 feet tall. We saw lakes that were white from borax deposits, lakes that were pink from algae, and lakes that were light blue like toothpaste because of arsenic and other minerals. We saw flamingoes and vicunas, a small deer-like animal that is endangered and lives only in this part of the world. We saw Incan ruins, abandoned mines, and bubbling pools of hot sulfur-smelling water heated from underground. We saw the moon rise and illuminate an otherwise lightless night. We saw endless deserts, and not a single tree. Of course we also got to see plenty of llamas.
As amazing as all this was, it pales in comparison to what we saw on our last day when we visited the world’s largest salt flats. Sounds dull, right? No way. Imagine thousands of square miles of salt - perfectly flat and perfectly white. In the distance you can just make out the mountains that surround it. It gets better. Now imagine that entire expanse of whiteness covers by an inch of water. All the sudden you are standing on a mirror that extends as far at the eye can see. And it reflects the sky, clouds and mountains. I don’t exagerate when I tell you that there was no way to differentiate between the earth and the heavens. It all came together on that salt flat. It was without a doubt the most amazing sight I have ever seen. Some people say that after an hour or two you get bored of being on the salt because it is just so flat and all the same. I could have stayed for days, watching how the light changes, how the wind affects the reflections, or admiring the natural perfection in the shape of the salt crystals.
One of the things that I found interesting about this trip was that even though it felt like we were in the middle of nowhere, this land has been inhabited for thousands of years by the Incas and their predecessors. And it’s still inhabited. Every now and then we would drive by a random house, set in a valley, hours by car from the nearest town, and they don’t have cars. The towns we visited only had electricity because of the generators brought in for the tourist accomodations. That was another interesting aspect. Despite the remoteness, every hill was criss-crossed by tracks from some other Land Cruiser carrying tourists through the area. In fact, the Land Cruiser might be the most common creature in southwestern Bolivia.
That brings you up-to-date on what we’ve been doing. Now we are in La Paz, the capital of Bolivia and the world’s highest capital city. We had a very uncomfortable overnight bus ride to get here, mostly on unpaved roads that occasionally required fording rivers. We’re gonna hang out here for a few days while deciding on our next destination. Until then….
- Marc
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Hola again from the southern hemisphere. Rather than write one of my thematic missives, I just wanted to give you guys a quick update of what we’ve been doing since the last message.
Last you heard we were going to visit a scenic volcano. Well, the clouds rolled in so that didn’t work out as planned. We got good views of it in the morning from a distance, but by the time we got close to the volcano we couldn’t see it at all. On the other hand, the tour we were with gave us the opportunity to hang out with some llamas at a wildlife research facility, and by sheer luck, to see a parade of gauchos (Argentine cowboys) in some little town. The next day, during our bus ride to Chile, we got some very nice views of the volcano.
You may be wondering exactly what makes a volcano scenic. Well, I’ll tell you. When it’s a perfect cone shape and covered nicely in snow, then you have a start. But what really makes the difference is when the volcano is several thousand feet taller than all the other mountains around it. That is the case with many volcanoes in this area, and they are really gorgeous. The only thing I can think to compare them to is Mt. Rainier outside Seattle.
Our first stop in Chile was a quaint little town called Villarrica, which is in the shadows of the Villarrica Volcano. However, on the really clear days, you can see at least two other volcanoes from ground level, and as many as six if you climb into the hills (it depends on which hill, I suppose). However, the Villarrica Volcano is unique because it is an active volcano. And you can climb it. Although it’s not that expensive, it was outside of our very limited budget so we made the difficult decision not to climb it, but you can actually go up to the rim and look down into a bubbling crater of lava. Very cool. Even from our low budget view in town, on clear nights you could see the lava jumping out of the crater and creating an eerie orange glow in an otherwise black sky.
The closest we got to the hot lava was hot water. We visited thermal baths where different pools are filled with water of different temperatures from underground springs. My favorite was actually the cold one, filled with water from a glacier-fed lake. Brrrrr. It wasn’t easy to get there, but it was a relaxing change of pace.
Then we left Villarrica and came here, to Valdivia. Today we got our first glimpse of the Pacific Ocean when we went to visit a couple of 17th century Spanish forts. They were the southern-most outposts of the Spanish empire. We also saw some sea lions and dolphins. That was all just in the morning. The afternoon was rainy; our first truly rainy day since we arrived on this continent. So we took advantage of the time and planned some of our upcoming stops.
And that brings us to now: I’m using this hostel’s free internet while the owner’s husband practices Steve Miller Band and Elvis songs on his electric guitar. I’ll write more about this place later. Lots of character. And characters.
Tomorrow we head north to Temuco, then to Valparaiso and Santiago. After that, it’s back to Argentina, which I must admit I am looking forward to.
- Marc
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Argentina, that’s where. Vegetarians BEWARE! Argentina is a carnivore’s kinda country. Beef is abundant, cheap and delicious. Not to mention the regional specialties like venison and wild boar. I haven’t seen a butter knife since we got here; every meal comes with a steak knife.
Like pizza in Italy, you can’t really get bad beef in Argentina. Even when the meat is of relatively bad quality or even if it’s overcooked, it’s still pretty good. And just how cheap is it? Well, at a relatively nice restaurant Chrissy and I each enjoyed a steak dinner with french fries, and shared a bottle of water and an entire bottle of wine all for (drum roll, please): ELEVEN DOLLARS! Including the tip! Oh yes, we are happy travellers in Argentina.
Although I had heard about the beef long before we got here, I hadn’t considered the other foods available in Argentina. This is one area where the European influence really shows through. I’m not talking about Spanish colonists, but immigrants from Italy and Germany that came to South America in the late 19th century.
For example, the pizza we have had here (and we’ve had a few because it’s cheap) have been far better than anything you can get in the USA. That’s not saying much, I know. But other foods that we see regularly include waffles, fondue, and gourmet cheeses and hams, not what you typically think of when you envision Latin American cuisine. We have also found excellent bakeries in every town we have visited so far, with good quality bread and wonderful pastries. I’m on my way to get some now.
The European influence also shows through in the architecture. Buenos Aires has some beautiful old buildings that would be perfectly at home in many European cities. Unfortunately, they are being replaced by bland and efficient apartment blocks. The towns we have seen in Patagonia resemble the quaint and touristy ski communities of the Alps. Swiss-style chalets are abundant with wooden frames showing through on almost every building. One town even has laws dictating the designs and colors that can be used to preserve this Alps atmosphere.
As one final example, there are communities in Argentina where you can apparently get by without speaking a word of Spanish. German, Italian, and even Welsch are all you need to know. We haven’t been there. I guess that will have to wait for our next visit.
That’s all for the moment. Our next stop is Chile on Thursday, and who knows what we’ll find there. But first, tomorrow, we are visiting a village of the native Mapuche Indians and then visiting one of the most scenic volcanoes in the world. I’m very excited. And then I’m going to have one last steak dinner before we leave Argentina.
- Marc
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Hasselbeck busca, y encuentra Engram en plena terrera, pero le falta poco para la primera oportunidad. Hines Ward sigue haciendo las jugadas graves para su equipo.
That’s a taste of what the Super Bowl sounded like in Buenos Aires. Yes, we watched it while enjoying empanadas and Argentine wine. In my opinion, that should be a new football tradition. Not to mention all the new (and totally useless) Spanish vocabulary we learned from the announcers on ESPN.
Buenos Aires is a wonderful town. Chrissy and I fell in love with it almost instantly. It is lively and cosmopolitan, with tons to do and see, and, of course, terrific food to keep you going. The city’s wide avenues and green parks are reminiscent of Paris and Washington, but it also has a touch of the crowded and hurried edginess of Manhattan. But it’s a lot cheaper than those other places. In fact, it’s dirt cheap. For me it is the perfect combination.
We stayed with a friend’s father and step-mother in Buenos Aires. They made us feel so welcome and gave us great advice about how to get around, what to see and where to eat. They even drove us to certain areas and gave us tours of others. To put it plainly, they spoiled us. But we loved every minute of it. Now we’re worried that our first stop on this trip was so perfect, maybe we should have saved it for the end. After all, it couldn’t possibly get any better than those four days in Buenos Aires. Could it?
Yesterday we had to leave Buenos Aires to come to our current location - Bariloche - a town in the Patogonian Andes of Argentina, and our southern-most stop on this three-month tour of South America. After a 19-hour overnight bus ride, we were happy to arrive in this gorgeous setting. Actually, as the sun came up this morning, the ride here turned out to be beautiful also. The city is situated on a lake and there are snow-capped mountains in every direction. We are staying on the top floor of the tallest building in town, so we have a spectacular view of it all. Tomorrow, we are going to hike along the tops of some of those mountains that we see. It’s very exciting; I still can’t believe we are really here.
Overall, Argentina has been everything I hoped it would be. The country seems more European than Latin American. The people are friendly, the roads are good, and everything is so well organized. All this is in sharp contrast to the last foreign country we were in: Moldova. Perhaps travelling is the biggest difference. The cramped and stuffy 20-seat mini-buses of Moldova have been replaced by two-floor luxury buses with seats like first-class on an airplane. They even serve meals and all the whiskey, wine and champagne you can drink. All that on a backpacker’s budget. This is the way to travel.
Now we have a couple days of hiking ahead of us, then we are going to visit some smaller mountain towns in the area. After that, we move on to Chile. Look for the next update in your inbox soon.
- Marc
PS - Did I mention that it’s 78 degrees here with a light breeze? And the sun doesn’t set until 9:00? Hope you’re enjoying your February.
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So we did it. Yesteray, we left Cahul. It’s not permanent - we’ll be back to visit - but it is for a long time. Strange.
Saying good-bye to our host family was terrible. Everyone was crying, and none of us could come up with appropriate words for the moment. Silence and sobbing. I couldn’t believe the day had actually arrived. Emotionally, I was not prepared for it, and I’m still not sure I’ve accepted that we’re not going back on Friday. Leaving our families in the U.S. two years ago was hard, but we knew it was only a temporary absence. Leaving our host family here is different because we don’t when we’ll see them again.
As we made the drive from Cahul to Chisinau for the last time, we sat in silence staring out the windows. We tried to absorb every last bit of scenery and engrave on our minds all the wonderful memories we are taking with us. It was a beautiful day for the drive - cold and clear, with a thin shroud of snow sitting on the distant hills of Romania. An ideal day for a good-bye.
In the past couple weeks, I’ve done a lot of reflecting on my experience here. Two years truly did fly by. I was looking at pictures and I noticed how our host sisters have gotten older in the time we’ve been here. Doesn’t seem like that should be possible in such a short time.
I also spent some time thinking about everything we have done since we’ve been in Peace Corps. And we’ve done a lot. The work was very challenging; at times I thought I couldn’t take it anymore. But it was also rewarding. Learning how a different culture thinks and acts, and then adapting to work with that culture is something I really enjoyed. I have no regrets about the things we’ve done in Moldova.
On the other hand, it’s so easy to regret all the things we didn’t do. Opportunities missed, photos not taken, invitations declined. Now that I have been here for a while and learned more about the community and the people, I believe I could be even more effective in my work. I have more ideas that I want to put into action. But our commitment was for two years, and now it’s time to move on.
During my reflection, I also took a moment to review the 26 e-mails I have sent you guys over the past two years and four months. I wanted to see how my impressions have changed or if there was anything I wanted to correct. Surprisingly, I didn’t come up with anything. Maybe I should read them more carefully.
One thing I noticed about my message is that not one of them is really about my work. Sure, you’ve heard about the projects I’ve been involved in, but there was nothing about my day-to-day work, my counterpart, my office. Even more interesting, none of you ever asked. Well, I’m not working anymore, so why tell you about it now?
People already have lots of questions about Moldova. One of the most common ones is “What did you like most about Moldova?” That’s a tough question. There are so many things that I enjoyed about this experience, I don’t even know how to begin. But the more I think about it, the more I think the people I’ve met have been the best part of my experience. I have been privileged to work with many very dedicated individuals. These people receive almost no money for the work they do, but continue doing because they are passionate about a cause. Their passion has served as my motivation.
And not just the Moldovans. The other Peace Corps Volunteers we have met are truly exceptional people. Before we left for Moldova, people told us that we would make friends for life during this experience. After a few months here, I was skeptical. Sure, there are plenty of nice people, but none stood out as friends for life. After getting to know them better, I’ve changed my mind. Now, after two years, I can tell you that indeed we did make friendships here that will last forever.
I don’t think we had the most typical Moldovan experience. Or the most typical Peace Corps experience. Nonetheless, it was a wonderful experience. It was difficult, fun, frustrating, happy, sad, and educational on every single day. It was a roller coaster ride of emotions, successes and failures. Perhaps when people at home ask “How was Moldova,” that is what I will say.
I know these messages became less frequent as time went on. As I became accustomed to life in Moldova, fewer things made an impression on me and were “worth writing home about”. Although this will be my last message from Moldova, I was thinking I would write one after I get home. I expect things will be new and interesting again when we return to the States. I’ll let you know what my first impressions are.
All that’s left for us in Moldova is a bunch of Peace Corps paperwork and Thanksgiving dinner. Should be a nice way to close out our time here. We’ll be seeing some of you in less than a week. Until then, have a very happy Thanksgiving. We all have a lot to be thankful for.
Love, and good-bye from (and to) Moldova,
Marc
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In the past four weeks we have given away over 300 computers. This is the magnum opus of our Peace Corps service. We’re working right up until the end - and the end is near- but more on that in a second. We have been working our tails off to get this project finished, and the results are pretty impressive.
Our container of computers arrived on October 7th, a month later than we had expected. You don’t really think about just how big a 40-foot container is until your standing next to it. Or inside it. Wow! I thought we were gonna be there all night. At one point it felt like we had been unloading forever, but I still couldn’t see the back of the container. With the help of a dozen Peace Corps Volunteers and a bunch of Moldovan kids, we unloaded the entire container in only two hours, in the dark. The bounty was as follows: 377 CPUs, 426 monitors, 508 keyboards, 491 mice, 16 printers, 9 scanners, and numerous boxes of speakers, random books and software. Not a bad haul for a year’s work.
Although I was really excited to get all this stuff, I was also a little disappointed. I felt like people literally sent us their trash. Of course we knew we were getting used computers (and used everything else) so I didn’t expect them to be perfect. But I also didn’t expect to get monitors labeled with the word “junk” in enormous black letters. We can’t give that to anyone without offending them. And then the books - US History books, for example - have nothing to do with computers. What are Moldovan kids going to do with US History books? Someone just thought they would ship their trash around the world and let someone else handle it.
Opening all the stuff we received was like taking a tour through a museum of computer history. Sure we got a bunch of Pentium 3 computers, but some of the software we got! Windows 3.1 on 5 1/4″ floppy disks. Spreadsheet programs for DOS that say on the box that they display 12 colors! Hooray - 12 colors! All this stuff made me feel old. I remember using some of these programs. It seems like decades ago, but really it was only 12 years ago. Makes you realize just how far we have come.
Despite all this old stuff, the participants in our program are so excited. These computers are going to villages and schools that have never had computers before, and certainly not the internet. They come to pick up their computers with enormous smiles on their faces, and they are afraid to even plug them in and turn them on until we show them how to do it. The reactions of the beneficiaries have made all of this worth it.
So for the past few weeks I’ve spent my time cloning hard drives, searching for drivers on the Internet, installing operating systems, and all that other typical Peace Corps stuff. Yeah, right. I never imagined doing all this, in fact learning all this, while in the Peace Corps. It’s been tough - long days, fighting with uncooperative computers - but it’s been fun.
In the end of October, we had our official opening ceremony. In a matter of hours we turned two rooms of computer carcasses, monitors and webs of cable into a beautiful computer center and a reception room. The US Ambassador attended, as well as representatives from various international organizations that have supported us, and of course people from all the participating communities. It was quite an event. Up until that point, I hadn’t had the opportunity to take a step back and realize just how proud I am of what we’ve accomplished. We have really made a difference in these 24 different communities.
At the reception after the ceremony, someone actually said that this project should go down in Peace Corps history as one of the most important things that volunteers have done. It’s hard for me to think about it like that. I think of other volunteers in less developed countries that bring clean water or electricity to places that never had it before. Those are things that they need to live. But I brought them internet. Was that the best use of my time and skills? Does it really compare to those other projects? I guess that it’s hard for me to put it into a local perspective. People here already have water and electricity. For Moldova in this day and age, access to information and technology is important step in their community development.
So there about 40 computers left to give out, plus the ones that are considered beyond repair. But we won’t be around to see those go out to the villages. Sunday is our last day in Cahul. Monday we head to Chisinau to spend the week doing paperwork with Peace Corps, and then on Friday we’ll be home. It’s very hard to imagine what it’s going to feel like to say good-bye to the people and the community that I know so well now. And then say hello to those that I haven’t seen in a couple years. I’m getting all teary-eyed even I write this.
I’ll send you all one more message, at least, before I leave. I want to say thank you to all of those who contributed to the ConnectCahul project. Rest assured that your money was well used and the project is being left in good hands for the future. And thank you for giving us this opportunity. Without your funding, we would not have had this wonderful experience.
More soon,
Marc
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