Bernardo is a paying guest at the hostel who arrived 2 days ago. He is a journalist who has been travelling for eight months, writing a documentary about various areas in Argentina, which he hopes will be filmed. He drives 10 000km a month – crazy! Quite eccentric, with a marvellous sense of humour. He is on his way north and his car has been giving problems. It cannot be fixed in Sauce Viejo so he is now sleeping for 2 hours (after his late dinner of steak and tomatoes) and will then drive 500km back to Buenos Aires to have it repaired. As soon as it is fixed, he will drive north, past here on his way to Cordoba.Such are the characters I have been meeting here. At some stage there were 7 people around the fire, but not all were eating. They kept on coming and going, quite haphazardly. It was a special night, with the full moon rising over the river, and not a breath of wind. The fire was big and Alejandro kept on fuelling it with massive dead tree trunks. On the braai was one flat chicken, a steak and a potato cut into slices, all very slowly being grilled. A cabbage salad and sandwiches appeared from the kitchen, and some of Ale’s freshly baked bread. A feast, to say the least.
Things are gradually improving and the weather is playing along, it’s much warmer. I have cooked twice and am beginning to feel part of the establishment. I don’t mind that Ale’s English is improving at a much faster rate than my Spanish, at least we are communicating. Last night I was mostly enjoying staring into the fire, fully aware of the people and occassionally engaging, with the moon and river as backdrop. Bernardo had given me some useful information on Santa in the north, where there are wine farms, and I read this very apt quote on a website:
‘My work is about space and the light that inhabits it. It is about how you confront that space and plumb it with vision It is about your seeing, like the wordless thought that comes from looking into the fire.’ (James Turrel, on his art).
The fire had done its work for me.
The house is on the banks of the Rio Coronda, which runs into the Rio Paraná, which is the longest river in Argentina, and second longest in South America. The Paraná forms a delta which enters the ocean just north of Buenos Aires. This is the view from the house:
So this morning I raked the leaves on this huge lawn – notice the pile in the braai area…
And cleaned the kitchen 
and swept the lounge and dining area
That little stove (right bottom) is a life saver, warms up the room beautifully. And the sleeping quarters:
Hats off to Alejandros, who came to this place in February last year and decided to create a hostel and start with permaculture. He has a small vegetable garden, and this morning a woman took away two crates of plants, free of charge, as it is food, and gladly given away. He even has a scarecrow watching over the garden.
They had just become operational in February this year, when a twister came through and wrecked havoc, breaking branches and tearing corrugated iron sheets off the roof of their workshop. Fortunately the house was not hit, but the paradise garden was in a mess and had to be cleaned up. Huge torn off limbs of the ombú tree (which is not really a tree but a huge cluster of pampass-like grass) are still lying around. 
The rarity of finding óne 200yr old ombú here next to the river is made rarer still by the fact that there are twó standing close together (see lawn picture). According to Ale there are forests if Ombú trees in Uruguay.In spite of my fragile emotional state, these past two days have been filled with new experiences and people coming and going. There were two guests staying the first night, a young couple whom I gathered were here to advise Alejandro on the business. The latter cooked us a typical Colombian meal of legumes and rìce, rather bland but tasty. And dinner is served late, at about 21h00. Ale bakes bread as needed, and at about 19h00 I was presented with bread, chocolat con leche (a caramel chocolate spread) and mate. 
My first experience of mate had been yesterday. It is a traditional herb tea shared by everyone present (from the same cup, drinking from the same bombilla, pronounced bombisha). Making and drinking it is more of a ritual than a process. It is an honour to be offered to partake.
There is no WiFi at the house but Ale was kind enough to give me the password of the WiFi at the ice cream shop. The shops in Sauce Vieje are open from 9 – 11am, and again from 3 – 6pm, so I just stood on the pavement in front of the closed shop and read and sent WApps. Only later I discovered a cafe that also had WiFi, so this is where I will go to everyday after work. I took a cup of tea down to the river after work and while watching the water flow, I realized that my eyes were drawn downstream. I looked upstream and realized it felt different, quieter and less energy. I looked in front of me, and again my eyes were naturally drawn downstream, seeing the noticeable flow of water. I thought about Siddhartha and how he had spent time learning from the river. What I learnt today is that upstream is the past, it is over, it holds no energy. The water is the same, yet the present (in front of me) and future (downstream), is what matters. That is where my focus will be.
This picture was taken when I left South Africa, just to show my suitcase.
Some have beautiful little chapels inside 
Mella Madness 