Travels, Part 3

Last weekend, I went on the second FLACSO-sponsored trip, this time to Jujuy, a province in far northern Argentina, right on the border with Bolivia. The geography up there is almost identical to Southwestern America, with cacti, plateaus and colorful, snow-free mountains. I loved being out of the city and in a quiet environment, where mornings were actually peaceful and the stars actually came out at night. Our hotel was in a beautiful location, basically a ten minute walk from the village of Tilcara, in front of a mountain and in between two farms. There were no planned activities our first night, so some friends and I took a walk into the village and easily found the main plaza, which has a craft fair, and then a smaller plaza near it. There was a church by the smaller plaza, with a visiting choir, so we went in and watched the Tilcara choir and then a few songs from the visiting one. It was actually a great show. The set-up was really laid back; the Tilcara group had no uniforms, were of all different ages, and seemed to be having a genuinely good time. They had a guitar accompanying them and sang local music, which was more folksy than religious.

On our second day, we went to the Pucará de Tilcara, which is an ancient Incan settlement. One of our guides for the trip was an archaeologist working there, so he showed us various parts of the Pucará and told us about how ancient Incan civilization had functioned. It was interesting, but I was more excited about the beautiful landscape around us, and more interested in learning about the indigenous cultures that occupy the area now.

After that, we went to Humahuaca, another village in the area. The village was very charming, and clearly re-designed to elicit that reaction in tourists. The dynamic of the visit made me very uncomfortable. Basically, our tour buses dropped us off next to the craft fair, left us with directions about how to shop, and then came back an hour later. They sold beautiful things, and I did shop, but I think that demonstrates the problem. The situation left both parties (the sellers and the buyers) with no choice about who they could be in the situation. Suddenly, we were all terrible, disgusting people. The women selling stuff shamelessly attempted to guilt us into buying things, one even shouting obscenities at my friend who changed his mind. For our part, we were superficial blond tourists, interested only in bringing home cheap souvenirs and getting a picture of the idyllic village. We saw nothing beyond the five blocks of stalls, and didn't talk to a single local outside the context of buying and selling. I'm actually disappointed in FLACSO for showing us the area in this way, as this was supposed to be our 'educational trip' and we learned almost nothing about the current situation of the places we visited. Things that stuck out though were the terrible state of nearly everyone's teeth, apparently an effect of chewing coca leaves, and one woman who barely spoke Spanish, because, it seemed, she had only learned Quechua.

The third day was by far my favorite. We started out the morning with a drive to Las Salinas Grandes, huge plateaus which are used to mine salt. The drive was beautiful; we gradually rised in elevation until we were above all the villages and most of the plants. We got out of the bus at the highest point, considered a very important place by the local people. There was a structure built there, essentially a pile of rocks, whose name I cannot remember for the life of me. Apparently, everyone is supposed to stop there and offer coca leaves, cigarettes, or alcohol to have good luck on the rest of your journey, something that truckers and other passersby still do. The staff had bought coca leaves to help us with the altitude sickness, so we each dropped a few into the pile. I recognize that this was just as much a superficial essentialization of indigenous culture as our time in the villages, but I enjoyed it a lot more. At least we were learning something about local traditions. Also, as someone who has always loved mountains, it made a lot of sense to me that they considered this place special. I think there is something really spiritual about being very, very high up, and I don't think you need to speak Quechua to understand that.

After this quick stop, we went to Las Salinas Grandes, which were ridiculously cool. It was just the strangest, most unique environment I've ever seen. Basically, about 10,000 years ago, this flat, mountain top area used to be a sea. The sea has since dried up, but the salt remains. We learned a bit about the natural environment of the place, the way the salt is harvested, and the lives of the workers who do it. Apparently, this is one of the last few salt flats where the workers do most of the work by hand, riding their bikes in from surrounding villages each day. They have been fighting to keep their labor-intensive form of mining relevant and to not be replaced by machines as they have been in most other places. Although I enjoyed the talk, I spent most of my time just taking pictures and staring. The ground looks smooth in the pictures, but it actually consisted of salt granules. You could pick up chunks and lick them (which, of course, we all had to do).



After Las Salinas, we went to our last village turned craft-market, Purmamarca. I actually enjoyed our time in this village a whole lot more, mostly because I spent about ten minutes shopping and spent the rest of the time on a hike with our other guide who lives in Purmamarca. First, she took us to another rock pile, with a different name that I have also forgotten. This structure existed as part of the village's carnival celebration, which she told us all about. Basically, it's a giant party, but one that involves masks, costumes, specific dances, and lots of other interesting rituals. We then went on a short hike to see El Cerro de los Siete Colores (The Seven-Colored Hill). I'm not sure if I counted a full seven colors, but the area was so beautiful, and I loved just being out and walking among the hills.


All in all, it was a great weekend, and I was honestly not ready to go back to Buenos Aires at the end of it. Luckily, I'll have lots of time to travel at the end of the semester. There's so much to see in this country, and I there's no way I'll be able to get to all of it. I guess that's the way it should be though.