Melanie's anecdotes from the trip

Melanie (my closest thing to a sister, Ben's actual sister) wrote this about her and the family's visit to the ranch. She write and describe things much more better than mi.

hermano

here's my little recap--enjoy, che xoxo

Trip to ranch was epic. Driver picked me up in bus station and we drove 2 hrs to a little tin hut in the middle of a gigantic field with gorgeous mountains in the backdrop. Only people there were 2 toothless gauchos. Waited about ten minutes and my driver pointed to phrase in his eng/span book that said "I'm losing patience". I pleaded with him to stay with me until my amigos came. Finally they did - Franke and my mom on horseback! It was amazing. I knew Franke was coming but I never imagined my mom would be there!! I loaded up my possessions into saddlebags and hopped on a horse for the 4 hr ride through the ranch to the cabins. It was spectacular. Hard to describe the beauty. The ranch in total consists of 100,000 acres. The ride took us through and over rolling sprawling hills and mountains. Bushes, flowers and long grass in hues of green, sage, yellow and purple. Some parts lush some dry. Untouched natural beauty as far as they eye can see. Stopped for a small break at a gaucho house halfway. Drunk old gaucho there. Then to the actual ranch. Crossed a river to get there and up one last hill and through a gate and then there we were, basically riding horses into a Christmas eve celebration. My whole familia there to greet me and it was so great to see everyone after two solid days of intense travel. Swigged some beer, some wine, ate some roasted goat, some fresh bread and salad and toasted my tired wet feet by a fire. Awesome.
My room was in a tiny cabin at the bottom of a steep hill where a cow named Monica lives. Which means to get to the room you stumble down a hill covered in cow pies. Franke had laid down some rocks and wood planks to help with the terrain which was amazing. The room itself was very sparse - just a small single bed with a table and a desk. No electricity just a few candles. I loved it. Gorgeous view of the river. Next to the outhouse which was actually quite impressive in it's cleanliness.
The brothers from both families shared a cabin with a kitchen and a picnic table (that Franke built) so that's where we spent most of our time cooking and eating. There was a main cabin (el casa grande) where we would go to get ingredients like rice, pasta, polenta, cheese, onions and potatoes. Also fresh loaves of bread. And sometimes cafe con leche, cookies, fruit, or bread with dulce de leche on top. There was a massive overgrown garden that I just adored. I could stroll in there anytime and pick fresh Swiss chard, kale, squash, baby lettuce, red leaf lettuce, arugula, carrots, radishes, beets, turnips, basil and sage. Heavenly. Then we would cook up whatever trout the boys caught that day as well as goat or steak. We made some incredible meals. Everyone had a hand in contributing to the cooking which of course made them even more delicious. We had unlimited bottles of wine which we took full advantage of as one might imagine we would. One evening we ripped through about 16 bottles in a few hrs after dinner around a campfire...which led to much singing and endless rounds of "would you rather" into the wee hrs of the night. (i.e. Would you rather have lobster claws for hands or rollerblades for feet?)
The days were filled with hiking, horseback riding, fishing, reading and cooking. Also there was a wood burning stove sauna a short hike away situated perfectly at the bottom of two incredible cliffs and right by the river.
There was no hot water and I literally went a week without washing my hair and substituted showers for jumping in the river. We are covered in big bites, scratches, rashes and burns. My mom lost a porcelain tooth while enjoying a rib of goat. That sucked!!! We drank away our pains and we're now en route to BA.

7 Train 82nd Street-Jackson Heights

Even though my journey through Chile and Argentina is over I'm ganna keep on writing. Dunno if anyone even reads it besides my little granny still, but I like it.

Anyways I'm back in New York now and it is pretty funking different. I miss my volcano. At the ranch I became addicted to Yerba Mate and today my only goal was to find some. Went on the super sonic internet and found some places. There was three stores in Jackson Heights that some girl had posted on some discussion board that said they had some. So I charged my Ipod put on some new beats I had just acquired and set out. Took the One to 42nd then the 7 to 82nd Street-Jackson Heights. With Chromeo playing in my brain I stepped off the subway to Roosevelt Avenue and felt finally at ease. All the tiendas were in Spanish and everyone and their mother on the street was hablando en espanol. I had never been in that part of the city and I loved it. With the subway going over the street and tons of people and shops and madness, and spanish. Walked to the first store on my list, didn't exist so I got a little worried but only had to walk about five feet to see that every other store was a hispanic or foreign foods supermarket. Needless to say after that it was relatively easy to find mate. I went to a few supermarkets and the other stores on my list to find the cheapest one. They didn't have the brand I wanted, Amanda or Pipore, but heard Cruz La Malta was good so got some a that and some of the real good stuff Rosemonte. Traveling threw the streets helped 2 guys out of the snow, a woman get cherrios (she was too short) in the supermarket all in spanish, and ordered my mate in spanish, was about to buy an empanada but only had enough plata for my 6 kilos of Yerba. Although everything was in New York it felt good to speak and the feel was still like a little South America.

Living in New York....so since I been away my parents sold the house in my suburban bubble and bought a great beautiful place in the city, really it is amazing and love living in it, you the man pops. But New York life is fast, sometimes a bit too fast. I don't think I have culture shock but definitely don't feel easy here yet. It is as if I'm just trying to keep up but barely can. It's hard to even speak sometimes because every else is like in "fast forward", thanks robbe. But I had an amazing welcome from my friends with beer and wings, what I had been dreaming about for a while. Saw some Hamilton buddies Friday and was going to see more that night but lets just say I was really exhausted and needed to go home early, sorry bros. Funny when people ask about my trip, it's like when you come home after summer or winter break and do the whole, "so how was it?" "great?" "wow where'd you go?" "thats so cool, now what are you going to do?" Ppppsssshhhhhbbblllaaaaarrrggg (thats me envisioning myself barfing on the person in front of me) No offense to anyone who asked me that I understand it is the social guideline of question one must ask to another after a long period of not talking, shit that's what I do, we all do it, and it's weird because everyone feels pretty much the same way about it. We should just ask those questions right when we see someone boom boom boom, then after those questions are out, we can have a beer and talk about more important things like... look at the brunette. Also kind of sucks because everyone is in their grooves now and I am just trying to adapt. I guess I need to do all that jobby stuff and eventually move out of my parents and get my own place, which I will but I feel like everyone did that 8 months ago, can't someone just give me a job and an apartment, Im good with my hands and can lift heavy things. I dunno blah blah blah I hate blogging.

I need to go to VT,

Franke

Kiss - New York Groove

Back in the New York Groove

Mi Onda

Its been awhile invisible internet and a lot has happened over the past few months, for the good and for the bad, so I thought it be time I drop you a line. I think I left you off right before I ventured into the Argentine Cordillera.

I crossed the mountains into Argentina and could see the difference in landscape. Going from the beautiful lush rainy greens of southern Chile to the desert, rock, thorny, Cordi(cha)ra that is the south for Argentina. After some confusion and a little bit of luck, I found the small small pueblo of El Huecù. Where I stayed for two days with a townie guacho named Jorge. One of the funny guys I've ever met. He was an amazing cook, loved to smoke, drink and laugh his face off. Ashley, El Patron finally showed up at the house, and we were to leave the same day. So we packed up the truck with a trailer, Sky (Ashley's daughter), Gusti (Sky's friend), Becca (Ashley's girlfriend), myself, and two dogs, and the back filled to the top. Pretty tight. Driving in was pretty easy. Got to ride a horse over the river but just going into the Estancia was like going into a different world. No buildings, no roads, no people, nothing, bliss.
Mainly worked construction on the ranch but also learned a bit about cooking too. Have to say I'm pretty damn good at crying when cutting onions. For the construction fixed up a bunch of things, learned about masonry, wood work, carpentry, cement! painting, heat and exhaustion. Also did some Guacho work, pretty much straight man shit, learned to ride a horse a bit, learned to fly fish, addicted to fly fishing, addicted to Mate! learned to do a proper guacho asado, addicted to chivito. I met some awesome people at the ranch, the guachos were always funny, always willing to speak slowly in spanish, the other volunteers were great, it was like we had been friends forever. Its was weird there because the days were slow but the time went by so fast. I loved it really, I enjoyed coming back at the end of the day exhausted and physically tired, dirty, you get some sort of satisfaction out of it. But I would have to say the point at which I fell in love with that place is when returning from dropping my family off. Not because they left but because coming back I had to herd 8 horses with another Gaucho, and I had never ridden a horse so fast for so long or felt more like a cowboy ever it was amazing. Then I had to pull two more horses another 3 hours to the actual ranch, by myself. Alone in the Cordillera, mountains, and a thunderstorm in the distance. No one around, not a sound but the horses hooves, you can see the heat lighting and rain miles away, as well as the Andes mountains of Chile. If I could stay in that moment forever I would. But needless to say all things change. I got very antsy at the ranch for many reasons and for my visit to Buenos Aires to see my grandmother and distant family I decided not to return.

Now going from the desert to the biggest city in Argentina in one day is not the greatest idea. Rode out on horse back, took a taxi from Huecu to another town where we took an over night bus to Buenos. If it wasn't for my friend on the bus with me I think I'd still be lost in Buenos Aires. Talk about total culture shock. So fast, so tall, everything going a mile a minute, and ridiculously hot. The first few days in BA were tough to say the least, I really wanted to go home and it was doubley worse cause it felt so much like home, but instead of walking back to my brothers apartment to sleep, I had to go to a stupid hostel sweating balls. Well thank god for my grandmother and cousins. My grandmother Mama Eileen and Aunt Anita came down to visit the cousins, Grand uncle Ber, Uncle Daniel, Aunt Luli, and my cousins, Gabbi, Vero y Flor. They all were so friggen awesome! Ber probably told the family history to me about ten times and asked me how much asado I ate in the south. Daniel is a complete jokster, and my wonderful cousins are as smart and sweet as can be. I immediately felt like family with them and like my own cousins at home. Saw bunch of places with my awesome grandma in Buenos like La Boca and San Telmo Market, and those old ladies made it through just fine. Buenos was good but also felt a strong need to get out of there. Said goodbye to all and headed for San Martin de Los Andes. San Martin was cool but it rained a lot so wasn't that interested. I then returned to Pucon my home in Chile for six months.

I was welcomed greatly from many friends now living there and it felt all so familiar. Like we had been doing this since the summer began. Beach, sun, beers, empanadas, completos. Vacation city pretty much. And the town from what I used to know it as had completely morphed into a busy beach town that tripled in stores, restaurants, and people. Many of my old stomping grounds were over run by visitors. But I had a blast. I saw my host father and said goodbye to him now for a much more extended period. But the little man looks great, got work, head chef at some new Termas. I hope to return and see him again, as well as Pucon. All the people in Pucon right now thanks for sending me off you guys are the best keep in touch, reunion New Orleans EOD 2011 "Sí po weón", let's make it happen.

As amazing as summer Pucon was a switch flipped in me somewhere a while ago and my traveling bone died. It was time to come home. I had seen and down so much and couldn't be more thankful for that. I took it all in and will never forget any of it. My experience down here has changed the way I look at the world and go about living it. Thus fueling my urge to want to get home to my family and friends.

And I want to ski that fresh pow.

See you all in New York City,

Cansado Patiperro
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