I left the farm a week and a half ago and went to Salta in northwestern Argentina. I loved the city so much. It has a very European feel (go colonialism!) with cobblestone streets, Spanish style cathedrals and beautiful plazas. It is also hot hot hot (but not as hot as in Misiones, where I am now).
I spent a low key couple of days in Salta, hanging out on the plaza and eating, visiting a couple of museums and taking a cable car up to the top of a mountain. Normally I am against cable cars when there´s the option of hiking, but it was so hot that I put my morals aside.
My favorite museum in Salta was MAAM, the (loose English translation) Archeological Museum of the High Mountains. Their claim to fame is the mummies of three Incan children, found nearby at the top of a volcano and perfectly preserved by the cold. Their skin doesn´t even look all black and wrinkly like most mummies. The children are believed to be the ¨victims¨of an Incan harvest sacrifice. After spending a year reading Joseph Campbell´s mythological/ anthropological coup de grace, The Masks of God, you know I loved seeing this. They only exhibit one mummy at a time and the one that I saw was a young boy in a sitting position, clutching his knees to his chest and hiding his face. It was a really powerful thing. Photos are not aloud, out of respect. There was a moment when I could have taken one, when the guard went for a bathroom break or something, but I decided to have some human decency and abstain.
One night, I decided to go to a peña, a folk music club typical to the northwest. My guidebook recommended one that was way way far away, but supposed to be the least known and visited by tourists and, therefore, the most authentic. I´m always looking for the authentic experience so I went. As I´m constantly reminded throughout this trip, Rough Guide is the worst and I shouldn´t trust anything that they say. Not only was the peña not there, but the address didn´t even exist. Errr!
However... I had a great time walking around this random area of Salta late at night. There wasn´t another tourist in sight, just people sitting outside of their houses and talking, tiny hole in the wall restaurants with the interiors painted bright colors and the TVs turned up loud, bored people working the late shift at the local convenience stores and a bunch of mechanics sitting around drinking mate in a garage with a huge pictures of Jesus. The mood of the evening was like a Roberto Bolaño short story (he´s like a South American Raymond Carver).
After Salta, I continued north to Jujuy province along the Quebrada de Humahuaca, a gorge lined with multi-colored mountains. I visited 4 small towns in the region in 4 days- Purmamarca (home of the fabulous Mountain of Seven Colors), Iruya (a tiny town 3000 meters up in the mountains and near the Bolivian border that maintains a somewhat traditional way of life), Humahuaca & Tilcara.
I absolutely loved these small towns (except Purmamarca which was way too touristy). It´s kind of like time has stood still- dirt roads, people in traditional clothes, no blackberries or wifi. Actually, all of these towns are touristy, but I deliberately sought out the non-touristy areas. I love walking around the residential streets, not seeing another traveler or tourist in sight, and watching people go about their lives.
It was raining in Humahuaca and I went out for one of my nightly walks. I was on a quiet residential street outside of the main town area when I saw in the distance a short old woman wearing a red hooded cape. I decided to follow her, as a sort of adventure, because the scene reminded me of this Nicolas Roeg movie "Don't Look Now." It's a thriller from the 70's and has the creepiest ending involving Donald Sutherland following a short old woman in a red hooded cape around Venice. I followed her for maybe 2 minutes until she turned up a hilly road that was pitch black and I got too scared. I hurried back to my little campsite and tried to sleep amongst the ruckus caused by the drunk Argentine students who had pitched their tents close to mine.
I spent most of my time in the northwest just wandering around like that and having quiet, personal moments. The whole northwest is pretty poor and I realize that it´s kind of wrong for me to seek out the areas where there´s like garbage on the streets and barefoot children running around. It´s just that the touristy areas are so artificial. They´re like theme parks where people go to the thing they´re supposed to go to and see whatever they´re supposed to see. I don´t like that. I´m not trying to be a snob or anything as I do have a special place in my heart for tourist traps like the world´s largest mud-ball and I´ve been known to buy cheesy souveniers by the handful, but after a while the whole tourist thing wears thin. I like seeing what life in the area is really like. To me, that´s the whole point of traveling.
