Stairway to heaven

Don’t think a thousand steps get you to heaven. It only takes you to the top of Cerro San Bernardo, a hill overlooking Salta, a beautiful city in the north of Argentina. Although, with the spectacular backdrop of the Andes mountains, an exalted feeling is not precluded. It’s just the sweat and shortness of breath that brings you back to earth.

A man-made waterfall greets one at the top, which was not too bad as it is the end of the dry season here and no natural waterfalls to refresh the weary climber. I love the energy of running water. I was amused by the sign at the fall and still don’t quite get it. According to Google Translate zona cardio protegida means area of cardio protection. I thought if I stood there for a while, my heartbeat would return to normal…

Yep, that’s a cable car – as usual I opted for the more challenging way of getting to the top, feeling very superior. I sheepishly have to admit that it probably had more to do with dinero (money) than the physical exertion.

Just a slight diversion here. There was a documentary made a few years back, fast-forwarding the decline of planet earth once humans ceased to exist, and how nature would take over again. Somewhere there was a scene showing packs of dogs roaming and scaveging for food in the absence of man. I am seriously beginning to feel that here – roaming dogs are everywhere. On the streets, in the parks, in the city centre, and a lot on the San Bernardo stairs. Just lying there, obviously not belonging to anyone. I remember Paolo Coelho writing about the dogs of O’Cebrero on his pilgrimage to Santiago, and how fearful I was as I approached that town on my own Camino – I never saw any dogs. But now I seriously am becoming concerned.

Salta was founded in 1582 and the name is derived from the Diaguita word sagta which means ‘beautiful’, so I feel quite justified for having called it a ‘beautiful’ city in the first paragraph. For me, there is always beauty in everything, but seeing all the colonial and pre-colonial buildings around Plaza 9 de Julio, a tree-filled green park in the city centre, the name is easily justified. Most striking is the Iglesia y Convento San Francisco (church and convent of St Francis), which was started in the mid-18th century and the facade, done by Italian architect Luigi Giorgi, was only completed in 1870.

Two of the oldest surviving buildings (although both have been restructured as result of earthquakes and wars) are the Cabildo de Salta and the Convento San Bernardo (Convent of St Bernard). St Bernard is the patron saint of Salta, hence the hill named after him too.

This door is the only original part of the convent and was carved by indigenous craftsmen in 1762.

Something really upsetting is displayed in one of the museums here. It is a head piece that is carved out of turtle shell. It was fasionable in the 18th and 19th centuries and was worn by women, as shown in the illustration:

It is Miracle Week in Salta this week, with a huge parade and festival ending it on Sunday. The cathedral on the plain has daily ongoing services which are publically broadcast and people are queuing for communion and blessings, bringing little bunches of red and white carnations that are being sold on street corners. Quite inspirational, the piety accompanying it all. Although my poor mother would have had a fit, as she believed that red and white flowers together predicted death. Just goes to show how supestitions can govern one’s life. The flower arrangements in the church were different though.

Workaway has bestowed me with another friend who invited me for lunch today. She responded to my application, stating that she no longer accepted Workawayers, but would love to meet me as my vocation was of interest to her. She has etablished and runs a language institute in the city and has suggested that I teach English classes there in exchange for Spanish lessons. So I might come back to Salta in December or January!