Breakaway

It’s Sunday evening, 20h30, and the sun is still shining. It has been a sunny and windless day in Bariloche after a week of rain, wind and freezing cold. On Saturday morning there was a layer of fresh snow on the mountains, and today we were swimming in the lagoon. This is how it works in Bariloche, I am told. I finished my final shift today at 16h00 and headed down to the crowded beach with my swimsuit and a book. Funnily enough, sunbathing on the pebbles is quite comfortable – I even managed forty winks, siesta.I’m feeling nostalgic, as usual when I have to leave. Sitting alone with a copa de vino tinto (glass of red wine), watching the colours change as the sun sets, is intensifying the nostalgia. It is só beautiful here and I’ve met such wonderful people.Tomorrow I’m heading to Comodoro Rivadavia on the east coast, where descendants of the Afrikaners who emigrated in 1902 are still living. I’ve known about them since I was a little girl, and always thought that I would visit them if I went to Argentina. I was reluctant, as it is out of my way, but a friend encouraged me to try and find them and put me in touch with a researcher at Michigan University, who referred me to Facebook. So I’m going there.

Today has not been a good day. My astrologist friend, Annorien, had warned me that this weekend would be challenging for everyone, and that if I was feeling the pinch, it was not just me. Things started going wrong on Saturday, when some videos I had received on WApp upset me. I wiped away the tears and decided to make the most of my morning off by visiting Colonia Suiza, a little village that is mostly a market, both artisan and food stalls, quite quaint. I waited for an hour for bus no 10, which was indicated on the map as the one to take you there. By then four no 20 buses had passed, so I decided to take one of them, which I knew went in the same direction. I didn’t get off at the right place and spent another 20 min travelling to the drop-off point where I had to catch another bus, no 13. The bus drivers are extremely helpful and patient, if one can understand what they are saying. I finally got to the town and had enough time to browse, visit the lake nearby, and eat a hearty meal called guisa de montaña (stew of the mountain) with some added chillies.My mood had lifted considerably, so I thought I was making good progress. Until this morning… One of the volunteers, Petr (a Czech), was leaving, and I was sad to see hom go as we had had some interesting philosophical conversations about stoicism, minimalism, etc. In spite of his cynicism, I enjoyed his forthright comments regarding people, situations and attitudes. He kept on encouraging me to learn more Spanish (and take cold showers), and helped me when I was stuck with computer bookings, making bread and cookies, answering Spanish phone calls or receiving Spanish guests. So I was sad. And then it was a hectic morning, with organising breakfast, guests booking out and early check-ins, people wanting to exchange money, etc. At some stage I must have left money on the counter, because when Marina (one of the owners of the hostel) arrived and checked the cash register, there was 2000 pesos (R500) missing, which I had to refund. Someone must have swiped it, or I had made a wrong entry. I couldn’t believe that I had been so careless and was most upset. R500 is a lot of money, but I was more upset with the whole situation than with the loss of the money. Not being able to converse properly in Spanish does not help of course. I felt like the proverbial ‘old woman trying to do a job’, not very successfully. On the other hand, one slip-up per job is probably not a bad track record… And I should count my blessings, as my dear mother always said (and she did exactly that, sometimes up to two hours if that is what it took to make her feel better): Mei-tal, a volunteer from Israel, fell of her bike today, hurting herself quite badly. I just had an ego fall… Not a good weekend, as Annorien said!

Hopefully some good has come out of the three weeks here in Bariloche. For me, it has been a dualistic process: work was tough, but the environment, both natural and human, more than compensated for it.

Last week, after two weeks of working and living in a hostel, I felt I needed a break so I treated myself to two nights in Villa la Angostura, a very touristic little town on the northern side of lake Nahuel Huapi. Sheer luxury to have my own room in a beautiful house, super clean, with a friendly hostess (Silvia) who made her own jams, baked healthy bread and moist cakes with dried fruit, and who had a wealth of information about all to see and do, a map and instructions readily available. I walked a lot, went on a boat trip and took pictures of houses and plots for sale – I seriously considered the option of disappearing forever, happily spending the rest of my days in a cabin in a forest next to a lake.I am really missing seeing wildlife. Birds and butterflies are all I see here. I don’t miss the mosquitos, flies and brommers, but even seeing a mouse or lizard would be great. Or a snake, on one of my many walks – but nada (nothing)! There are puma’s in the mountains, but I have not been lucky enough to see one. One does not realise how fortunate we are in Africa, to have so much wildlife. Interestingly enough, everyone I meet here who hears I am from South Africa, either comments on or questions me about wild animals. Something to appreciate even more when I am back.

Monday:

I’m in the que again. Calmness prevails, with a tinge of excitement. The familiarity of waiting for my luggage to be loaded is encouraging. As is the irritation of having to tip someone just for lifting Louise from the ground into the bowels of the bus. It meams I’m on my way, new adventures await. Whatever needed to be experienced or accomplished here, is done. The last two hours at the hostel were touching. Two volunteers, Stephi and Mei-tal, were going on a road trip for the day and gave me the warmest of farewells, hugs and affirmations. I warmed some soup for lunch before leaving the hostel and Camila, another volunteer, left her cookie making to join me, even producing some ice-cream for desert. She’s been helping me with Spanish, and I’ve been helping her with English. When she heard I was taking the colectivo (local bus) to the bus terminal, she insisted on paying for a taxi for me, shoving $200 (R50) into my bag. I was filled with warm gratitude for such caring gesture from a young girl to an ‘old’ lady. How kind and sweet! And then Martin, Marina and Martin’s son, Ezekiel, came to say goodbye to me at the bus terminal, as they couldn’t make it to the hostel in time. I will remember them all with great fondness.

Goodbye Bariloche!