Its 10:40 pm - I can hear the bombs going off as the patrol does avalanche control. It's snowed all day today - about 15 cm - plus wind loading. Tomorrow its supposed to clear and with it, Marte off-piste will open. Setting alarms!

Marte is *the chair* it's rated as one of , if not the best, lift in the world for the terrain it accesses. It spiders its way up to the top of Las Lenas, precariously balanced along the ridges, angled towers protected against avalanches by giant ship-brows of cement. If patrol doesn't bomb during the storms, they risk that when they do, the avalanche they trigger will decable the lift. Not from the snow knocking the chairs down, but the percussion effect.

"The Marte chair accesses more expert terrain than any other lift on this planet. No skier could ever find - let alone ski - all the possibilities. It defines extreme."

ps. Don't worry mom! being safe!

Skiing!

Yes a post about skiing! Cause the skiing today was awesome.
For the last two days Las Lenas has been in a storm. Howling winds - zero visibility (yes I tried to ski anyway) then today woke up to see a sliver of blue beyong the clouds.
"Ted," I said. "I'm going skiing, I think its going to be a good day."

AND IT WAS IT WAS AWESOME

First we (Ted, Jason and Allison - jason and Allison are two aussie snowboarders living upstairs) drop off this side (right off the chairlift)- covering about 600 vertical feet on a consistent slope, untracked. Knee deep plus powder, smooth, light, my skis are sailing! Then get this - we do this about four more times before it starts getting tracked out. Just people here don't ski off-piste. And blue skies? Crystal blue! Gorgeous sun! Just one of those days that are so perfect.

Then they open another lift and basically -REPEAT - although here the snow was a bit heavier.

And the best news of all? they haven't even opened the main chair lift yet. Perhaps tomorrow. That's when its heading to a whole new level - couloirs, chutes, massive faces.

Yesterday Las Lenas opened proper!
And on their first day they offer free skiing to everyone.
Which is an awesome idea. Because it honest to god brings out every single beginner skier in the Mendoza province

Sure this packs the beginner lifts, which is annoying because the beginner lifts are pretty much the only way to get to the rest of the resort BUT your long wait is more than rewarded in the pure spectacule of hundreds of beginner skiers skiing down (or trying to get up) the same beginner slope.

Skiers running into snowboarders running into skiers.
People going straight down the hill, straight across the hill. One gentleman quietly muttering 'meirde' under his breath while accelerating towards the lift line.

And the poma lift!
People couldn't get on it, and once they got on it they couldn't stay on it, and once they fell off it they couldn't get out of the way before the next person ran into them. So just pile ups - five skiers/snowboarders thick- as one would fall off, the next would haplessly run into them and fall, equipment limbs all tangled, and then a third and four person would helpfully throw themselves onto the mix until a liftee would take pity, stop the lift, run up, and sort it all out.

"the gay pogo stick from hell' was how one exasperated (although non-pc) snowboarder described the poma lift.

And the outfits!
One peices, jeans, massive sunglasses, no hats (definitely no helmets). Rear-entry boots galore. Skies from at least the 80s.

As for the actual skiing - needs a bit more snow to go off piste -we met up with Adam (runs a touring company out of Mendoza, used to film for Warren Miller Productions) who showed us around - but a bit too thin snowpack for my tastes) But we're all eyeing a storm that is supposed to be moving in tomorrow. Here hopes is comes.

Ted! the Roommate has shown up, and he's cool and awesome. Les keeps on trying to get me out on another tour and I' m like dude - the chair lifts are now running!!!!!!!

The place (apartment) is a bit of a disaster:
- fridge doesn't close
- lights burnt out
- shower clogged
- huge drafts

But whatever. Came here to ski afterall!

ps. just meet Yaya The Famous Mendoza Womanizer. Eh.
;)

eta: Yaya turned out to be a total sweetheart :)

Today (well yesterday now) I
- slept in
- went skiing
- Moved into my apartment (finally)
- Baked cookies
- Cooked diner

So something that is always fun about going somewhere new is that no one knows you at all, you can be anyone you want. For instance, remember my resolution to do more cooking /baking? Well today (the day I’ve finally moved into my new apartment) I wanted to make the place seem homey, and thought if I made cookies I’d both warm the place up and make it smell nice .So I did .

I baked chocolate chip cookies. I would have made them from scratch except the grocery store here didn’t have brown sugar or chocolate chips. Which I assumed was pretty essential. So I bought a cookie mix. HOWEVER it was not a guaranteed hole-in-one because the gas stove I have has no temperature indicators. It has an off, and on, and an unmarked dial. BUT I guessed, kept an eye on the cookies and they turned out great. Then I went around and gave them to Jose and Les. Et voila. I bake.

THEN feeling on a roll, I head up to Les place for diner – where I proceed to cut up tomatoes, green peppers, onions, grate some cheese, fry up some eggs and make a pretty good scramble if I may say so myself. But see, Les doesn’t know I don’t cook – so when I got tired of grating cheese, I just said “I find it really easy to over-cheese eggs.” And stopped.

OR
“Well we could do omelettes – but in general when its this heavy on the vegetables – I prefer to just scramble it together.”

I didn’t know what to put in the pan so tossed in some olive oil - I didn’t measure it. I just sort of poured a bit into the pan. Then watched/listened to it sizzle. (I later tried to wash the dishes with olive oil which was less successful).

But anyway. Cooking/Baking success, and for the rest of the winter, I’m just going to pretend I’m an accomplished (or at least regular cook-er) and just cook decisively.


Also went ski touring again today. Started out with Les – but he was aiming for a peak – and there was no way I was going to make it that far. So instead I bailed earlier and headed down something that could possibly, charitably, be called a hill. Got like five turns in on super inconsistent conditions. But really, I’m just trying to get into shape. Plus another gorgeous gorgeous day. So no complaints.

And that was day three in Las Lenas.

So – since last update
- Les and I got a ride with Lucino out of San Rafael to Las Lenas
- Get there to find out that my apartment isn’t ready. Spend a night in Les’ place, and now camping out in Jose’s place while I wait.
- Las Lenas is still officially closed – but opening this weekend.
- Snow snow everywhere
- Very weird to be right smack back in the middle of winter. Wearing layers non-stop, ice covered roads / walkways. Cold. Cold. Cold.
- Yesterday Les and I opened the Las Lenas backcountry.
- Las Lenas is in a valley – one side of the valley is the ski resort, the other is military lands (backcountry). Ohmygod was it tough for me. Two months of not doing very much exercise, plus the alititde, plus Les – who is training to be a guide and so spends ALL his time hiking/climbing/skiing. Les broke trail pretty much the entire way and I was still about ready to throw in the towel half way up.
I fell over at one point and lay there for 45 seconds just trying to summon the energy to brush the snow off my face.
- Ski-forded my first stream on the way up – balancing skis across the tops of rocks and stepping very very carefully (bases!)
- On the way back down we were almost there and so instead applied the brute force method and walked straight through it (we ended up at a different place at the river- couldn’t have skied across it). My liners are now absolutely soaked. Trying to dry them.
- But the scenery. This place is nuts on the scenery department. Just endless folds of mountains. You could ski a different line each day you are here and still not do half of them.
- It’s overwhelming, actually. The space, the mountains, the blue ski, the whiteness, the emptiness, the coldness, the sun.
Luckily human beings are good at adapting!

las lenas tomorrow!

and snow!!!!!!!!!

i love it when a plan comes together!

this was going to be a post about how a woman buying a coat, managed to bring the entire supermakert to a halt for 20 mins and my head almost exploded because I just don't do well in supermarkets. Supermarkets are not one of my skillsets.

It could be about how mendoza is the worst place to NOT break an ankle (there are moats, gaping holes, missing stairs! Nijinsky (died - schizophrenia), Nureyev (died - aids) and the russian ballet corps couldn't walk down these streets without tripping all over each other)

It's still about how there is still no snow.

It could even be about Iran and how I keep embaressing myself by tearing up over twitters ('allergies!').

[
friend (who sent me the #): it's like Les Miz, in a 140 characters or less!
me: and real!
]

But I think its going to be about my friend (Rosemary) who just did the craziest, scariest thing ever - and became a mom today.

An Ode to Lucy on her first day.


Congratulations.
You made it.
Only just got here, really
But I have to warn you
it's only getting started.
and you -
you are going to be very busy.

You've got :

Inches to grow
Words to learn

(that's the easy bit - then:)

Ideas to speak,
Character to build.

(and even)

Mistakes to make.

(sorry - but true)
(until you)

Lead by example
Follow with humility

and
(today and everyday)

live.

It may seem a lot,
that maybe you're a little small.
But I 'm not worried.
Cause you already got what you need most
They're my friends, so I can tell you
That they love better than most
and you best of all.


(Good old Stanley, pinch hitting until I have a better 'new baby - yey!' pic)

not that I'm obsessive or anything - but I've been taking screenshots of the last 15 time I've checked the weather (snow) forecast for las lenas. First one on top. Just to give you a sense of the emotional rollercoaster I've been on:

expected snow in cms

sat morning ramblings ....

last night, i was going to do an art night. I had this idea - that if movies could be re-booted (star trek, batman) why not art? So, like, take a famous work of art and ... re -boot it. (exactly what this meant - well that was the plan for the night). (The most astonishing thing about this idea is that I had it *before* i started drinking)

[not that it is all that original of an idea - I mean, art re-interprets/builds on past art all the time]

bu then there were these crazy swedes, and these bottles of red wine, and the plan kind of disintegrated.

Anyway - did not happen. Then this morning, work up to find a giant influx of backpackers to this previously quite sleepy hostel. In the giant bed/room shuffle that happened, there was something like 30 people and their luggage hanging out in the common room (myself included).

With time to kill, I decided that before I attempted to reboot renaissance art, perhaps I should actually study it.
Et voila. a more care-warn (almost 'chipped' )interpretation of Michelangelo's Pieta.

I'm not sure what my re-boot idea is.

When people say 'you travel alone?' I think yes. I do. Part of it is the logistical issues of finding people to travel with, but part of it is - Like Virginia's Woolf ' a room of one's own' - a person needs more than physical space to create. Even more important - its creating the mental space of one's own. When you travel alone, all your usual influences (good and bad) slowly fade, your socially-constructed history fades. You have more 'space'.

Why create? Cause its SO MUCH FUN!

[i once spent three days by myself on a beach doing the absolute bare minumun. Just sitting there watching the waves. Because I wanted to see what I would think about after three days of absolutely nothing. It turns out that I didn't think of much. But it was only three days.]

uh. have no idea where I was going with this post.

Michelangelo's Pieta. Just staggering.



My version is like - what it would look like after it had been dropped down a flight of stairs. How's that for a re-boot??!?!

;)

It is tough to be a dog or a dog-lover in Argentina.

In Buenos Aires – its fine – sure there are strays, but they are crowded out by the number of well cared for dogs, bundled up in coats and booties, enthusiastically dragging their dogwalkers through the streets, chasing after balls and Frisbees in the dogparks. Buenos Aires has a North American approach to pet ownership (they prefer ‘European’).


(Buenos Aires dogs on their walk)

Outside of Buenos Aires, not so much. Here in Mendoza, there are a lot of strays. They join you on your walk, perfectly pacing you. Today, I was joined by a black lab mix, who was probably about a year old. Matted coat, but bright eyes, lolling tongue who followed me for ten blocks, waited with me at the lights, crossed with me, and continued with me up towards the nearby park. When they do this – they are so well behaved it is heart breaking. When you come out of stores, they'll be patiently sitting there, waiting.

I refused to make eye contact. Refused to speak to him. Absolutely ignored him. He followed me anyway.

I’m walking next to the park (between the park and a busy road), Felix at my heels, tail wagging, when suddenly there is a blast of barking. To my left, 20 feet away, a pack of approx 10 dogs erupt from the underbush, charging towards me. No rotweillers, no dobermans, no german shepherds, nothing really *big*. I think: well at least my shots are all up to date. Felix crowds my legs at the exact moment I realize they aren’t after me, they are after him.

Sure enough a terrier-cross nips him on the rump, he yelps, then he’s bitten again as they drive him out onto the street. There is this horrible moment as he bolts into the heavy two-lane traffic, and there are cars swerving, honking, and I’m absolutely sure he’s going to be hit. He’s running back and forth between cars, until he finally makes it to the other side.

The other dogs immediately disperse- mission accomplished.

I think: he was shadowing me in the hopes that I would provide him safe passage. That I would have yelled at those dogs. Or somehow protected him (instead I almost watched him get killed).

But its so hard. You can’t rescue all of the dogs, you can’t even rescue one – trying to get a dog out of these countries is harder than getting them in to Canada (I know, cause I tried to adopt one from Ecuador, and the paperwork and time involved.) You would think I was trying to export some valuable ancient artifact out of the country - how difficult they made it. They should be giving these dogs away.

Yesterday, in that same park, I had to step around a dead Doberman just lying on the sidewalk. I don’t know if it had chocked on something, or if it had a massive tumour that had finally suffocated it, but it had something the shape of a beer can lodged in its distended throat.

And then today, walking back home, there was an older german shepherd – trying to stand up. It looked like it had a stroke. Bent almost 90 degrees, half his body no longer working properly. Hit by a car? Who knows? It could barely walk.

Anyway. Sorry for the gloomy post. But its definitely one of the harder things about traveling for me. At least its not a kid, I guess.

Some dog poetry and sketch. i did this so long ago - i can't even remember who it was for. maybe it was for me!

my - restaurant in the wall

it's just a sketch - so I'm not going to disect it & my bizarre perspective/shading choices. Although my favourite bit? is how the bottles themselves look under the influence.

help for the food-ignorant

This is a post about food [what it isn't is a post about snow ... :( ] My understanding of the las lenas grocery store situation is that there is a grocery store, in the sense that a well-stocked 7-11 is a grocery store.

Now I am one of the few people over the age of eight who would be fine with 3 months of grazing through the isles of a 7-11 - as generally I am pretty basic and flexible - bread? peanut butter? Hello lunch! there's a toaster? breakfast! Add a banana and a bottle of wine? Dinner! (and yes, I'm sure argentinian 7-11s have wine).

I mean I basically ate couscous, tuna, and cliff bars for three months on my bike trip.

Its not that I don't like food that requres more time & energy. I do ! But I also like food that doesn't. So its a toss up.

But I'm tempted to change my spots. make this the winter where I overturn my apathy and laziness and embrace cooking/baking.

So far my list of staples is:
- oatmeal
- pasta
- rice (brown)
- brown sugar
- white sugar
- all purpose flour
- yeast (for making bread of course! ha ha ha - i cant even write that with a straight face)
- a hunking block of cheese
- choclate chips
- vanilla?
- salt
- beans (chick peas, garbanzo beans, black beans, lima beans, kidney beans, soy beans)
- nuts (almonds, walnuts)
- raisons
- cranberries
- soup


Things that don't make sense to buy bulk ahead of time
-eggs
-fresh vegetables
- milk
- butter
- meats
- fruits (lately I've been eating oranges non-stop. No fear of scurvy here.)

Anything obvious I'm missing?

FINALLY

No, not snow yet -but the hope of snow

Now lets hope that moves up as the days pass.

i warn you. I've had a glass of wine (or two) - i tried to order a glass but then got back this little bottle. it's good :)

Right now I'm updating from a little restaurant on the main strip of mendoza (wine capital of Argentina).
- food in Argentina is taken seriously. At even the cheapiest diner you are likely to have your servers wearing bow ties, and *serving* you your food.
- I'm at this little classy restaurant-in-the-wall (maybe I"ll try to sketch it) beause earlier today I was walking down the street, saw a menu posted in a window, and I had barely even altered my path to get close enough to read it when the door flies open and out pops this little rotund man in a tuxedo vest.
- Menu? English menu? we have coffee, we have food! tell me what are you looking for?
[Since i perfer to be invisible unless I wish to be noticed, this totally flustered me. I *blushed* and stammered and made faces]
But he was so endearing, that I when I told him I was just looking, I also said 'and I'll come back' and asked him his hours.
- anytime! comeback anytime!
- When I walked in this evening he gave me this massive grin. So I'm glad I kept my word.

The food was pretty good too. and the wi-fi nice. the music is sirius satellite. The same channel as when I sat in my friend Paula's kitchen, working on her morning sun-drenched table, cup of tea cooling beside me.

- eeeeeee i am so lucky- in my friends, family, opportunities and freedoms. must try to be a better person!

altitude post

As someone who definitely feels altitude - here is my comparison


Revelstoke (bottom)= 512m
Mendoza = 760m
Boulder, CO = 1650m
Sherman's Pass, WA = 1699m
Flagstaff, AZ = 2142m (somewhere about where I start noticing altitude - in terms of performance)
Revelstoke (top)=2225m
Las Lenas (bottom) = 2240m
Grand Canyon (North Rim) = 2438m
Las Lenas (mid) = 2835m
Las Lenas (top) = 3430m
Lhasa, Tibet = 3658 m (sick! but got better .. )
Everest Base Camp (Tibet side) = 5208 metres

eh. should be ok. The first two weeks - probably will find the top of Las Lenas a bit tough.

eta: Oh - made it to Mendoza after a terrific 14 hour-ish bus ride. I paid the extra 5 dollars or so for the 'suite' class and it was excellent. Chair into bed. Lots of space. Heaven! AND still have all my stuff! Only one more leg to go - to Las Lenas.

Oh but still no snow. COM'ON SNOW!

heading up to Mendoza tonight on the overnight bus. Hoping that *I* am the missing ingredient that will bring the snow.

COM'ON SNOW!!!!!

Eva Peron

Until I was uhm… 22 - I used to say ‘I believe in equality for women, but no – I am not a feminist.” I figured, I’m a girl, I’m a geek, I’m somewhat *odd* – I’m fighting battles on enough fronts as it is. The feminists with their poetry, their marches, and their murky agendas could do without me.

Then I looked up the *definition* of feminism, discovered it was *equality* and was like ‘damnit! – I am a feminist.”

I then become a bit of an annoyance to family members and certain guy friends as I’d demand ‘are you a feminist?’ and if they said no, or more usually ‘I don’t know’ – I’d respond: ‘ oh so you don’t believe in equality? Then you can stand over there with your good friend HITLER’

Which is to say, I don’t feel like I organically came to feminism as much as it was foisted upon my aggreived shoulders – feminism is equality? Really? That’s it? This still requires a movement? I have to explicitly opt into equality? How *dumb*. Who are these non-feminists and why aren’t they in jail?

ALL OF THIS is a long way to say, Eva Peron, loved by the feminist movement, wasn’t really on my radar when I arrived in Buenos Aires. Sure I was vaguely aware of her thanks to my sisters taste in musicals (I can warble out ‘Don’t cry for me Argentina’ with the worst of them’) , but it took over ten days before I got around to the Eva Peron museum or learning anything about her life.

The first thing I learned was that she died at 33. The first thing I thought was: man, I’ve got to get going on my life and do something.

Bare facts:

- born out of wedlock in 1919 (at a time when society discriminated against illegitimate children), although it was totally accepted/ encouraged that a man would have mistresses. (LOGIC FAIL)

- age 15 to 25 ish rose to some status/success in the entertainment industry

- age 25 meet Juan Peron at a charity benefit

- age 26 married Juan

- age 27 Juan Peron is elected president (he was 49) - his first wife died of cancer, Eva was second, his third became his V-P and was later President after his death. Seems like a stand-up guy – too bad at age 58 he took a 14 year old mistress. Not to mention that he thought Mussolini was one of the greatest men of the century, and set his countries policy to harbour Nazi war criminals,

- Nonetheless –it was he that allowed her to sit and attend various meeting, who listened to her, who publicly supported her in a society that disapproved of her influence. Hats off to those that support logically correct/beneficial yet unpopular causes. (Although should be noted, it was hardly without benefit to himself – for while he may have been receiving the unwanted disapproval of his peers,

- Eva, by hook or by crook, was exploiting/ publicizing her humble origins, her delicate appearance, emphasising her ‘Virgin Mary’ parallels (a woman with zero sex-appeal, was a common descriptor) to gain massive support of the Argentina ‘Humbles’ or the poor working class. They adored her, nicknaming her their ‘little eva’ or Evita.

- Over the 6 years of Juan’s presidency (and through his arrest and subsequent release at the peoples demand) she became powerful in trade unions (on behalf of the labourers and their rights), championed woman’s right to vote, set up institutions for orphans and the elderly.

- Also: potentially was funnelling funds away from all these causes into a swiss bank account (Roger Ebert thinks so).

- Nominated for Vice-presidency which she had to decline due to her failing health (cervical cancer – drs hid her condition from her – one of the first recipients of chemotherapy).

- In order to be able to properly stand and wave from the campaign car, she had a special contraption built to hold her up, hidden under her coat and dress.

- At age 33 – Congress gave her the title : Spiritual Leader of the Nation.

- Then she died.

- Her body was embalmed and put on display while waiting for the monument to be finished. However, the gov’t was overthrown in a military coup, Juan fleed, and Evita’s body disappeared for 20 years. (Secretly buried under a false name in Italy).

- Eventually tracked down, returned to Argentina where it was buried in La Recoleta Cementary in her family’s tomb.

- The military gov’t , determined not to have any more disappearances of her body (fearing that a missing body = reappearance of the myth) took every measure to secure the body – it is said that her tomb could withstand a nuclear attack.

And what is her myth?


Latin American myths are more resistant than they seem to be. Not even the mass exodus of the Cuban raft people or the rapid decomposition and isolation of Fidel Castro's regime have eroded the triumphal myth of Ché Guevara, which remains alive in the dreams of thousands of young people in Latin America, Africa and Europe. Ché as well as Evita symbolize certain naive, but effective, beliefs: the hope for a better world; a life sacrificed on the altar of the disinherited, the humiliated, the poor of the earth. They are myths which somehow reproduce the image of Christ



Ironically, Eva Peron didn’t consider herself a feminist. She also had strong connections to Nazism.

I’m just saying.


;)

la recoleta cementary

"rest in peace" greets the visitor entering; "we wait for god" as they leave.

La Recoleta is the cementary for the who's who of Buenos Aires. Presidents are buried there, writers, Evita, newspaper barons, Che Guevara's family (although not Che - whose remains rest in Cuba)

Its a tiny city of the dead. Little stone houses lined up in streets. Not dissimilar to the houses competing with each other in the wealthy neighbourhood the cementary resides in. With doors, windows, skylights, and statutes. Elaborate carvings, gleaming marble.

I meet up with a tour, found the guide more interesting than any of the tombs, but managed to learn a thing or two anyway.

But first the guide! words do not do her justice, a tiny, hyperactive slightly hunched woman, with an amazing voice, flailing arms, facial expressions of muppet! a mixed-british accent with such a range - who 'is always hanging arounding the cementary so if you come back say hi'.

She even walked like a muppet!

an attempt!

She spoke of each tomb with an endearing and contemporary fondness, like they were all her wacky relatives.

But back to the graveyard. A Peron post is probably coming soon, so I'll just focus on the recoleta and ignore its most famous occupent (Eva Peron)

It has its ghosts - of a girl who was entombed alive on her 19th birthday after being falsely pronounced dead and buried- her coffin shuffled across her tomb as testement to her futile efforts to escape. It has numerous wealthy families - including one who buried their maid next to their tomb. Hands that went missing from corpses (an italian vandetta? thumbprints for secret swiss bank account?), victims of political assasinations, a girl who died when buried in an avalanche on her honeymoon (in her hotel bed!), a dedicated caretaker of la Recoleta who saved up all his money, bought a plot, commissioned a statute (of himself) from France - waited until it was delievered, and then, rumour has it, was so keen to complete - killed himself. It is an Argentinian Ghastly Crumb Tinies

Not all the tombs are in nice condition. A lot are falling to peices, coffins sliding out, weeds overrunning, statues slanting sideways. But its like a dense compilation of *life* - cause of course what is interesting about about a bunch of dead people but the lives they lived?

Except of course, the bizarre, unepected ways that they ended.



:)

As for me, still in Buenos Aires, and really? Not in a big hurry to get anywhere else. Which is a good thing because this city has its own schedule. Yesterday had breakfast at 1:00 pm. Which is a first ever for me. The lady next to me was on her first (maybe!) glass of wine for the day.

eta: another not great but hmmm.... not totally unsuccessful attempt at my degas copy.

Practising my belief that the only thing better than one photoshop effect

is four!!!

Mendoza plans are being pushed out again - was originally leaving tomorrow, now maybe Sat. So far there is no snow in Las Lenas so uncertain whether the resort will even be open by the 12th. I could be panicking about what this implies about the upcoming season but just don't feel like it. I'm here. I'm having a good time. Awesome snow conditions will be awesome, but srsly - where's the challenge in bottomless powder anyway?
;)

[Plan B involves finding an Argentian Polo ranch to be a groom at in exchange for lessons, Plan C involes a bicycle, Tierra Del Fuego, Anchorage, Alaska, and a lot of pedaling]

Speaking of Las Lenas, I've been in contact with the guy who is renting out the seasonal apartments. He's like 'yeah when you get to Mendoza you should hook up with the others - the las lenas crew.'

Yey! there's a crew! excellent! it sounds so real! Of course at this point the 'seasonal crew' seems to be the half dozen or so people in the apartments. Hundreds of people go to revelstoke for the season - SIX go to Las Lenas? Maybe 12? There must be more right? Well - call me intrigued if nothing else.

Oh but he ends his email with this:

I warn you, Yaya [one of the Las Lenas crew] is a famous Mendoza womanizer, be careful, hahahaha

which cracks me up, but how to respond?
Thanks for the heads up? Sounds fun?

I think this yaya is the same guy who when I was trying to find a place in LL offered to share his room with me for a discout. ["Think about it - it's a lot of money. Besos!"]

hmm... Maybe I should take a page from a woman I met in Revelstoke, who I barely knew but admired her ability to be technically friendly without actually being friendly - and reply with the non-committal, positive, yet subtly dismissive:

'Cute!'

What else is going on ... the hostel has turned over - a new bunch of people so at least the Poutine nickname has died. They seem to be mostly at the end of their travels, so we all got together last night and they shared some absolute HORROR south america stories. The girl who got robbed between the airport and the hostel, the airport bus that got held up and emptied, one woman's atm card had been stolen and accounts emptied (even without the pin! something about the mafia). And of course the guy who got kidnapped in Peru.Since I'm flying out of Lima, Peru, I figure I should get a hold of which city that happened in and check it out. (JUST KIDDING MOM!!Of course I'm being totally safe!!!)

Bye!

eta: success! I'm at a coffee shop, ordered a 'cappucino' and guess what just arrived? The mythical latte!

Not an art post. Instead of wandering aimlessly aroud art galleries, persuing further enlightment - today was spent locked in an epic struggle with the Argentinian banking system. Sisyphus and his rock would have had an exasperating day.

Problem: My debit cards work here, but due to criminally high withdrawal fees ($5) and inconvienent max withdrawal limits (Approx $100), there is basically a 5% tax on all money taken out of bank machine. This is both financially and mentally irritating.

But that's why I brought two (non-expired) credit cards on my trip. Granted I don't have pins for them, but as the guidebooks say 'just go into the branch'.

So today, with some larger expensese on the horizon (16 hour bus ride to Mendoza) I tried to do a cash advance on my credit card.

Good lord, I do not know how anyone can have a job in this country AND visit a bank. Rock concert lines at every teller. Some banks have the 'take a number' system. You can pick between 6 different categories of services and get the related number - a little electric sign displays the number and the teller servicing it. I picked J - category which seemed the most popular, then hedged my bets with two other categories - none of which I knew what they meant. I figured I'd just see which number came up first and talk to a person.

My J number was 1049. The current number being serviced? 803.

I observed for 45 minutes, and watched the J numbers creep up from 803 to 812. The other categories went up by less. Doing some quick math, 246 x 5mins / 60 mins. I was going to be waiting for a HELL OF A LONG TIME. Do people pick up a number and then come back in twenty hours? Like some inefficient appointment system?

There were other lines that didn't require numbers. For instance there was one line for people to hand over green marked paper to and get cash back. There was another line for people to hand over cash and get back a bag of coins back (hand over cash, *plonk* plastic bag of coins back). No signs anywhere as to why one line and not another. There was a line for pregnant women and women with small children.

After waiting in one of these smaller lines (I gave up on the numbers), I finally get a real person to ask my question too. They say 'we do not do cash advances.'
Me: Pardon?
Them: No - cash machine only.
Me: I don't have a pin.
Them: Cash machine only.
Me: Well where can I do a cash advance? Another line? Another bank?
Them: No. we do not do them.

Which, come'on. This is a BANK. You can't charge a credit card???? Rural banks in china can charge credit cards. The stores surrounding you can all charge credit cards - and yet an actual bank? cannot.

Them: This is Argentina. You are in Argentina. The banks in Argentina cannot
Me: Only your bank machines can?
Them: Yes. Correct.

Basically I don't believe them, but my belief or lack there of is of zero importance to them. They are not going to help me. Off to try bank #2. Wait in lines. Wait. Wait.
Them: machine only
Me: Any other bank?
Them: Maybe Banco National.

Great. Off to the nearest Banco National Branch. This branch has an information desk! Excellent. Only have to wait for ten minutes for this to be free. Ask my question.
Then: Yes we do them.
Me: Great!
Them: But not here. This branch downtown does it. Main branch.

I get them to write the address out for me [ ' 343 Bartolome Mitre'], crack out my map, proceed to walk for 90 minutes into the downtown core. Banks EVERYWHERE - water water but not a drop to drink - Find the main downtown branch (which is smaller than the previous one I was in but is on Bartolome street and has 343 in front of it), enter it with a fair amount of confidence. Wait 25 mins in a randomly selected line. Hopefully produce my credit card and my passport. "viola!"

Them: Ah yes. Use Machine.
Me: No pin.
Them: Well - we do it, but not here.

I pull out my scrap of paper with the address on it. ' 343 Bartolome Mitre'.
"Is this not here?"

Them: No.

They hand me a new scrap of paper with 'Bank of Plaza de Mayo 343 Bartolome Mitre Street'

Maybe there is an avenue and a street and I'm on the wrong one. Who knows? She tells me I'm really close.

I walk up to Plaza de Mayo, there are banks there, but none called 'Plazo de Mayo' So instead I walk in to the biggest bank I can find in the Plazo de Mayo. AND THERE ARE LINE UPS OUT THE DOOR.

I lose it at this point. I am not waiting in another line. I will western union my money to me before waiting in another line, I will stand in front of a cash machine and do ten individual transactions before waiting in another line. I approach a security guard (no line!) expecting to be ignored/dismissed.

From now on in, I'm only asking security guards. This guard pulled out his glasses, examined my peice of paper, took me by the arm, lead me out on to the street, and escourted me to 343 Bartolome Mitre Street. Which was very helpful, except it was the bank I had just come from.

Much head shaking and arm gesturing ensues. More security guards are called down. One speaks english. This security guard examines my peice of paper, takes me to another bank, tells me to sit in a seat while he gets to the 'bottom of this'. Fifteen minutes later he tells me : yes. It's settled. This is the right place.This bank will do it. Just wait here and he will help you.

FANTASTIC! I thank him excessively. He returns to his post in the two-banks ago bank.

Wait 15 minutes. Taking hope in all the prominient mastercard and visa signage everywhere. I wait, I get budded by a pregnant women, I wait some more. Finally my turn.

Him: Machines only.
me: WHAT?
Him: machines only . we do not do this for 2 years now.
Me: But - but
Him: machines only. Or Bank Piano. But they are the only one.
Me: just ... just ....well - can you write it out?

He writes it out. 'San martin 345' OFF I GO AGAIN. Its only three blocks, find Banco Piano. Wait another 45 minutes but DO INDEED GET MY BLOODY CASH ADVANCE.

Now I'm exhausted and need to recover.

On a somewhat arty note - I did find this neat painting of the argentinian banking system.


Look at the use of light!

;)