I came back from Argentina and Villarrica felt like home

October 24, 2018

I came back from Argentina and Villarrica felt like home

Miércoles 10 octubre:

Yesterday’s field trip was a tour up the Huife watershed. We went (almost) to the headwaters and worked our way all the way downstream to Lago Villarrica. Along the way we made some pit-stops that would help us expand and develop our research questions: the quiet lagoon at the beginning of the water source, a newly developed colegio (elementary school) with a burgeoning science program, a community organization of local farmers and artisans, and a community farm and healing center rooted in indigenous resilience and justice (can I get a "heck yeah”!).

Sábado 13 octubre:

Yesterday in class we developed potential research questions for our projects this semester. My group is interested in sustainable agriculture cooperatives and our three potential focus points are: women’s roles in resiliency, the effect of changing community/cultural identities on agricultural practices and products, and how cooperatives manage the generational transition that is happening on farms throughout Chile.

After class, we got got beers and watched an opera at the cultural center. And I spent the remaining hours of the night talking with Silvia about native trees, fruits, and mushrooms–over tea, at the kitchen table, of course.

Sábado 13 octubre:

Today a few of us bused south to Lican Ray and kayaked out to an island in Lago Calafquen. The water was icecream-headache cold and clear as crystal (not the chilean beer), and it was easy to glimpse flashes of blue fish on the rocky bottom. From Lican Ray, we walked north up the hill to Lily’s home and feasted on sourdough and cheese. From her campo home, we shivered in the cold spring wind and watched the clouds drag shadows across the white volcano. We sat on the steps of their restaurant-in-construction and talked with her grandfather and great-grandfather about the natural history of the area while watching the day slow down. After a strong cafesito we bused home, exchanging looks of amazement with the abuelitos on the bus as we all watched the sun set on the western hills. It was one of those “full-heart” kind of days.

Lunes 15 octubre:

I really missed home for the first time today, walking home under the stars and wood smoke. But now the feeling is gone and it’s hard to describe.

Miércoles 18 octubre:

It rained and rained and I sat in the library all day reading about the political and cultural history and present of the Mapuche people of Chile.

I am itching to find a ukulele and play *poorly* for hours in my little bedroom to the percussion of the rain.

Martes 23 octubre:

On the 14th, I took a trip with Silvia to Curarrehue to visit her sister and her family. Curarrehue is a small town east of Lago Villarrica, tucked into valley at the top of the Rio Trancura watershed. We first shared warm soup and bread, then took a drive further east, following the river up into the heart of an Araucaria forest (those strange looking trees) and to the border with Argentina. The drive was full of “ooh” and “ahh”–jagged peaks, electric green forests, and the Volcán Lanín. “Estoy tan feliz,” I kept saying. Their faces said, “look at that gringa grin”. Silvia’s nieces were full of energy, always tugging on me and telling me jokes (those priceless ones that kids make up). I taught them how to operate my film camera, and I am excited to reveal their artistic genius once the roll is developed. A day full of rapid spanish exhausted me, though, and I felt melancholy driving home with Silvia during the dramatically cloudy dusk.

On Saturday, a small group of us took a bus to San Martín de Los Andes in Argentina. The descent down the eastern side of the Andes was full of sagebrush and sweeping landscapes–one of those views that invites you to walk aimlessly in the silence of the valley. Buuuuut, I was stuck in a bus, and got to watch Volcán Lanín disappear to the north as we skirted south through the foothills and finally west again to the city of San Martín. Along the way, however, we must have gotten lost and ended up in Europe instead. I only knew it was Argentina by the funny “y” and “ll” pronunciations and massive amounts of yerba mate. I spent most of the weekend exploring the town–watching the sun set over the lake…listening for hours to the stories of the old man who worked at the local intercultural radio station and who managed the garden there.

Today we were total forest nerds, studying research methods and learning bird calls and plant identification. I finally learned the call of the Tufted Tit Tyrant, a small bird with a peeved expression and a tufted crest.

And as a final note, the melancholia from many days ago has not fully disappeared, but it is one of those comfortable sadnesses and I am not sure I want it to go away.

Visiting Hemisferio Sustentable, a socio-ecolocial community farm