all right . . .

So. Finally found the time and motivation to catch up and get things back up to date. So much to tell . . impossible . . must summarize:
1) Two weeks ago I went to Chile. The ride there was quite the trial. So, earlier that week it had snowed and thus the pass through the mountains was closed. Finally it was reopened on Thursday morning, which is when I left from Mendoza. Ah, silly Noah. I forgot that all the people who had been stuck one side or the other for the five previous days also wanted to cross. The result: the bus got within a mile or so of the border pass way up on a mountain road, feet of snow on both sides, about 1 pm. Then we stopped. There were hundreds of vehicles winding away in a line ahead of us. Long story short, we remained in that bus for the ext 6 hours, moving forward a few feet every now and then. It was dark by the time we got into the huge, chilly cast iro terminal building to have our luggage, documents, and persons thoroughly searched for any trace of raw agricultural product (or weapon, while they were at it) that might cotaminate Chile´s production. I got to Viña del Mar at midnight and slept in a rented room across from the bus terminal. Ah, but no it gets better. The next morning I reached my destination, the small coastal town of Maitencillo, deserted at this time of year, and a little hostel/b&B on top of the cliffs looking down on the sea. The next two days were spent enjoying the aforementioned to the fullest. The first day was chilly and cloudy and I walked along the beach, sniffing, examining bizarre caves, rocks, and marie flora, capped off by the most amazing sunset I´ve ever seen in my life. The sky went on infinitely. It was like taking one Missouri sunset and stretching it out over the surface of the earth like a balloon. Everything was lit up with an intense dark yellow. On the way back a wave came up to where I was balancing on a slippery rock and knocked me over. I cut open my shin and got soaked from the chest down. Fair exchange for a great day. On day 2 I followed a horse trail by a pine forest on the tops of the cliffs way down the way until I found and descended to a beach completely sealed off from the rest by cliffs. It was lined with caves and the sand was covered with tiny crab hatchlings that disappeared under the sad when I got stepped toward them. The cliffs were covered with all kinds of wild relatives of potatoes, radishes, cucumbers, and parsely among others. The trip back to Mendoza was much less trying- the argentines seem much more apathetic about quality control of their agriculture. And when I got back to my neighborhood in Mendoza that evening with the sun setting I felt the first sense of this place being my home, and not just some extended weih station en route to somewhere else.
2) The last two weekends I´ve been going out to a farm an hour outside Mendoza that I discovered through wwoof, and it´s been just what I needed to get relief from city and classes. It´s called Madre Tierra (see www.elperegrinorganico.com if curious) and it produces vegetables, is bordered by several organic apple, cherry, and plum orchards, and is populated by a chaotic assortment of chickens, dogs, cats, horses, one sulky bull, one nutritionist, one yoga instructor, the free spirited little childrens or the former two, two aging american ex-pat hippies, and whatever volunteers like myself who come through. Recently sculpted abode huts, wood-heated shower, and a view of the Andes until the trees leaf out, and swimmable irrigation ditches are among the accomodations. I expect to be heading out there just about every thursday afternoon and coming back with Azucena (the nutritionist/matriarch of the farm) every saturday morning for the market in the city; it´s just what I need to recharge my batteries and quiet my mind after a week here in the city.
3) And, classes. Yes, I´ve got some. Two interesting history classes with mounds of reading and smart argentines, one on pre-colonial America, one on the writings of leading American (read: Hispano-America) political figures. Other than that, I´ve got the most laid back mandatory spanish class in the universe, and a class of Folklore dance, which is fantastic. Folklore is the old-time dance of the gaucho. Basically, Folkore is like Flamenco, but more less severe: like the difference between elegant english country dance and an appalachian hoedown. The best part is the zapateo, or tap dancing part (see http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cjn4n2cRZ_g for a rough idea). My professor, Don Antonio, is a tiny old man with a white moustache and vest. Of course, when I return, free folklore lessons will be foisted upon one and all regardless of interest level.
And that´s the way it is. Be well all, and stay tuned.