it's a double rainbow all the way across the sky...whoa it's so intense

I kind of know how he felt now: the double rainbow viral madness

Angela and I had a pretty ridiculous schedule for her short trip here to visit me. The climax was two days at Iguazu falls, and I can't think of a more beautiful place to share with a friend. Sure it tooks us a long time to get there, and the toll taken on our wallets and bodies was significant, but I don't think either of us would have traded it for the world. I'd heard it was amazing, that it was beautiful, that it made Niagra look like a joke...part of me believed it, but part of me knows not to get too excited for things in case they just can't quite live up to the hype. When we were walking into the park the first day I saw a t-shirt and it made me smile. I thought it was cute: "every single sunny day, there is a rainbow over Igauzu."  I soon learned that it was true, I saw it with my own eyes.  Angela and I were blessed enough to spend two sunny days there, and I lost count of the number of rainbows, double rainbows, partial rainbows, and it's so bright it has to be fake rainbows.

In order to get to the falls we had to use a variety of vehicles; taxi, plane, bus, walk, bus, taxi, bus, walk, bus...walk, but we did eventually get there. We split up the travel by spending an afternoon lazily napping, reading and soaking in thermal baths in Salto, Urugay. We were optimistic for the night bus, the one that was slated to take us all the way to Iguazu, would be comfy so we could try to sleep. It was better than the plane, but still that doesn't say much. After a few delays we did roll into the town, significantly later in the morning than we were both hoping, and were now faced with the task of finding a place to stay. We were a bit unsure of our schedule and didn't have the chance to book anything in advance. It was no big deal, the town was pretty much just built to service the tourists coming to see the falls. After agreeing on a place, we unloaded our packs and headed straight back to the bus terminal, we didn't want to waste any more time. We had some falls to see!

Apparently so did about 10 thousand other people.  No biggie, we can walk fast and I'd like to believe that I have gotten really good at taking pictures without other people in them. I can make it look like we were the only people there. :) We knew before we even walked into the entrance of the park that we would be needing 2 days. Maybe if we'd had a full day we would be able to blaze through all the trails at once, but the bus made sure that was not possible. In the end I'm glad, it let me feel like I didn't have to run from lookout to lookout, that we could, you know, slow down and enjoy ourselves. That and stalk coaties, monkeys, toucans and other Iguazu fauna.

First things first though, el garganta del diablo AKA the devil's throat. It sounds unpleasant, but it couldn't have been more poorly named, this place is beautiful. This is supposed to be the most impressive lookout of the whole park, the place where the water drops off in a half-moon and clouds of billowing mist steam up from wherever it lands. Of course it's not that simple and it it's not just the one half-moon, but this feels like the dramatic origin of the falls and from there hundreds of smaller ones (smaller, ha!) spill over the crest that wanders on for miles.

You can hear it long before you can see it. You can feel the mist in the air before you can see it. It's a pretty good length trail raised over the very wide river you have to walk before you get to the lookout, but nothing can prepare you for it. You can get a sense of how big this might actually be just because it takes so long, walking above the water to get there...and that sound. Eventually we worked our way right up to the handrails and stared. They were right...poor Niagra. Alright, I'll give it to her, Niagra is pretty impressive too. But she's just one half-moon, a massive half-moon, but I could see from here that the Iguazu spread out much, much, much farther. That, and I'm in south america which means I get to get much, much, much closer.

And there it was, my first rainbow at Iguazu. It was a gloriously sunny day, and the mist from the falls was definately welcome, but it didn't just cool us down, it made itself a perfect canvas for a rainbow. I had to smile to myself, because I thought about that silly t-shirt. Well at least they weren't lying. The both of us stood there taking in the sight and noticing the pack of people had started to thin out. It had been more than the standard 15 mins of click-click-take-my-picutre-move-on, so we weren't alone out there, but clearly surrounded by much less people. I pulled out the park map so we could decide where we wanted to go next. There are a variety of trails that you can take that all give you different lookout points. This one, La Garganta del Diablo was the most popular, but there were still 3 others that traced along the path of the falls, some up high, some down lower and some on an island across the way.

We decided to leave the island for the next day, which still gave us lots of options for the rest of the afternoon. We started with the highest trails and worked out way down. The weather continued to cooperate with us and we were snapping pictures left and right of what felt like every single different vantage point we came across. Eventually I started to reign myself in, but it was so hard! Every turn presented us with another breathtaking view...and those rainbows. I kept looking at the little pictures on my camera and thinking that nobody was going to believe these are real. They totally look photoshopped! This is my favorite photoshopped picture of me + falls + raimbow. Really, I just have been sitting at home googling stuff and photoshopping myself in picures. This one, almost looks real.

It came too quickly, but before we knew it, it was time to head out. The park was closing. We went slowly, and happend to spot a toucan high up on a vine on one of the lesser falls. We also passed a bunch of people feeding the monkey and coaties. I know it's terrible, but I couldn't help but hope these people got bit or scratched or something. There are signs everywhere telling you not to feed the wildlife, that they bite, that human food is not good for them, and that they are WILD ANIMALS. One guy got swiped at. Another woman was all up in this mama monkey's face and chasing it around and it had its baby riding on its back. Idiots. They were locals too, and by locals I mean from Argentina. So they can't even use the excuse they couldn't read the sign. I'm not enturely sure why this was so upsetting, maybe it was the blatant disregard for the welfare of the animals, maybe it's the frustration of knowing that there are so many people who don't care about following rules that are put up for their safety and the safety of the environment...maybe it makes me think back to some fool that thought the rules didn't apply to them and burned down half of a national park.

Sometimes I think this trip is making me dislike people. Not on an individual level, I meet lots of wonderful, friendly, interesting and intelligent people. But on general terms....the human species seems to be full of knuckleheads. Knuckleheads that chase mother wild animals when the baby is nearby. General rule of thumb, don't EVER mess with mamas. It seems so common sense. You know, kind of like, don't wash your dishes in the river, don't shit where you eat, don't touch a wild animal. Angela and I just shook our heads and walked away. What more really, could we do?

The next morning we got up and organized ourself to go straight to the island. We heard that you could swim in the river down there and that just sounded like too pleasant an experience not to. We had to walk down some of the same trails we had already visited the day before. Neither of us minded. It still seemed surreal to be there and the weather was still sunny and beautiful. Of course there were more rainbows. It was a sunny day, and every single sunny day there are rainbows over Iguazu.

There was a very short boat ride to get us to the island, and then we were mostly alone. There were a handful of other people on the boat, but we got there early so it wasn't too bad. I think all the new people went straight to the devil's throat. If my assumptions were correct, we would have most of the morning with the island pretty quiet.

The recommendations were wrong. The best view of the falls is not from the devil's throat, its from that little island. First off, you're down low enough to understand how far it drops, second you are close enough you feel like you can reach out and touch it, and 3 there are way less people.  See for yourself:

I think this is where we stood the longest. From this view point and just watched the water slide down all the steps and stairs. Angela said it best, almost in a trance, "it's like watching fire, I could just stare at it forever." 

But we couldn't. We had to get back to town, we had to get on a bus, we had to get back to the city, we had to get Angela on a plane back home. But first we had to stop and swim with the fishes. From the base of the falls we splashed around a bit, cooled off and drank in on more long last view.

It was like a whirlwind to get us here and it was just as crazy when we left. I almost slumped down in exhaustion on my host family's floor when I got back and slept like I hadn't slept in a while. I felt bad for Angela and wondered how she would hold up having to get straight back to work. If I was this tired, I'm not sure how she would be functioning. It made me realize just how grateful I was that I didn't have anything I needed to rush back for or anywhere I needed to rush forward to. I could just be right where I was and let today take care of itself....and for me, that meant I had lots of sleeping to catch up on.

Montevideo and Las Llamadas

Montevideo and Las Llamadas, a set on Flickr.

photos of our quick trip through montevideo and of the llamadas. check out the videos set to see more of the parade.

las llamadas: a little bitty carnaval

When Angela and I left Karumbe we had the happy coincidence of landing in Montevideo for the first day of the Llamadas. Uruguay prides itself on holding the second largest Carnaval celebration behind Brazil, and the Llamadas are part of that month long celebration. In its most concise form it's a parade, dominated by condombes (a form of drums). In practice it's a lot more elaborate than that. The parades last for 2 nights in order to allow all the respective barrios and groups to have their chance to show off. It runs down 11 city blocks in an old, historically poor part of the city. The streets are lined with benches, bleachers and chairs. All the business and houses have people spilling from windows and sitting on roof ledges to get a glimpse of the people passing by. The festivities start around 9 at night, when the sun has set and can last well into the wee hours of the morning...no one seems to notice as I think the streets got more crowded as time moved on.

Angela and I prepared ourselves for the event by going to the Carnaval museum the morning of the first llamadas. I had a very, very loose understanding of what all this llamadas business was all about and a little bit of educating seemed in order. This is where I learned about the organization of each group and the role of the players. It summed up a brief history of Carnaval...slaves, african/european/latin blending of cultures and sounds, superstitions and religious reasoning, and the progression of the event over the years. I learned to expect a layout of sorts: a flag proclaiming the name of the group, followed by a school of flags and a moon and star, this was followed by the characters of old men and women with white hair and canes dancing an animated version of the samba, then a whole crew of barely dressed women with sparkles and feathers and high heels flicking exposed butts in a more rigorous samaba, and then a team of machine-like men hammering out contagious beats on condombes. I poked Angela with my elbow...we're going to see this tonight! Can you believe we get to see Carnaval?!

We spent the rest of the day really just killing time around Montevideo. It is a strange city with that juxtaposition of old and newish. I can't say new, because it doesn't really seem like things have been updated since the the 1980s, but there is definitely old. Beautiful old building like what happens across the water in Buenos Aires. Maybe I am getting hard to impress as time rolls by on this trip, but really there wasn't anything too memorable about the city  other than the fact that people were fishing and kids were swimming in Rio Plata. I should have taken a picture of this, it may have been one of the foulest things I have ever seen. Pretty sure under no circumstance would people in the US ever be allowed to enter into water as polluted at this without hazard suits. But there they were, swimming around like it was totally the logical thing to do. I'll admit it, it was effing hot out and if I hadn't seen the grossness of smelled the grossness it would have maybe seemed like a feasible thing to consider. Who knows, maybe growing up in the USA has made me soft...I mean, it's not like anyone there had a third eye or anything, and clearly they have been eating from this river and swimming in it longer than I have been around. Regardless, I made a mental note to avoid seafood.

It wasn't hard to pass the time. Montevideo isn't remarkable, but it's still pretty. There are lots of plazas shaded with big leafy trees, stone streets shaded with the same big leafy trees, and pedestrian only streets set up with street vendors selling the usual artesenia...jewelry, art, books, handicrafts, mate gourds, and pirated music. Angela had some gift shopping she wanted to do and since I am not allowed to buy things just for the sake of buying things I enjoyed looking at all the little stands and shops with her pretending that I might break down and buy something. Sorry guys, no souvenirs for you...

We had arranged with the hostel to get seats for the parade the night before. It was explained to me that we would also get to see one of the groups preparing to go out, getting the condombes ready and all the make-up and feathers in place. After that we would then be shown our seats where we were promised primo viewing of all the groups going by. I should have known better, it sounded too good to be true, but my excitement got the best of me. But as arranged we hurried back to regroup before going pretty much right back where we came from. The most important development in the afternoon was that Angela did finally get to try some mate. It's probably a good thing we didn't let her try it earlier...I could see her addictive personality kicking in and she took to the mate like a true Uruguayan. It would only be a matter of time before she would be toting a thermos of hot water under one arm with the mate gourd occupying her free hand. She had the look about her and seemed quite comfortable walking down the street with it, waiting at the bus stop with it, riding the bus with it...watching the llamadas with it. She even learned how to ask for more hot water. Part of me thinks she may have some Urugauyan or Argentine blood...and that blood flows with mate.

So either there was a misunderstanding or we got had, but there was no watching a group prepare to go out. This was a major bummer to me. We ended up sitting around in a community center thing run by some woman who told us a bit about the neighborhoood...but never saw no stinking drums or feathers. We did however get pretty good seats. Seats in general are hard to come bye, so we were lucky to get anything at such late notice. It wasn't front row, but I'm not complaining, and when I stood up on my chair there was nothing blocking my view. 

Soon enough the sun set and the llamadas began. Here is a quick sample of what we saw. I posted a few other videos on my flickr...you can find them under sets: videos!

It was like feeling the music move through you as the drums got closer. You couldn't help but shimmy your shoulders and wiggle your hips a little bit either. The locals had no reservations about it all. They would tag along behind the groups as they passed sambaing along. Old and young, fit and flabby, light and dark...it didn't matter, this is a party and everyone is expected to have some fun. There was a definate feeling of playfulness in the air and the colors and sounds of the groups as they passed by were nearly hypnotic. I think that was my favorite part. Sure they costumes were something different, and the orchestration of the drumline was great, and the giant flags that touched your hair as they flew overhead were fun, but the beats of the drums moved through you, it tickled your organs and jumpstarted your heart...and your eyes were bombarded with color. It can only make me imagine what must happen just across the border in Brazil. I don't know it I could handle that. 

We didn't stay for the whole parade. We had to get up early to keep on moving towards Iguazu. Tonight the impressive vista of streets filled with people...tomorrow the impressive vista of a world carved by water. As we walked away from the main street you could still hear the party, the cheers, the thump of drumsticks. Each pace taking us farther away and the grip of the music got weaker with each block. Eventually the streets were quiet...apartment windows were dark, shops were closed. Just a couple blocks away carnaval is jumping like its 2012 but where we were seemed like worlds away. Hey Angela....remember that one time we went to carnaval?

Karumbe - La Coronilla

Karumbe - La Coronilla, a set on Flickr.

pictures from volunteering with turtles!

yo soy un chucho...

It was time to volunteer, I was starting to feel like it was time to contribute again and I had made contact with an organization called Karumbe (click Here for the website) on the coast of Urugauy. Their primary interest is tracking sea turtles that feed off the coast of Uruguay, but they also do turtle rehabilitation and educating the local people as well as tourists about the life and challenges of a sea turtle. I am no marine biologist or veterinarian, I just happen to think that turtles are interesting creatures and was looking forward to the opportunity to get to maybe...hold one.

La Coronilla, the town where Karumbe is stationed, is nothing to write home about. There isn't really even what you would call a main street, just a couple houses on small plots and a handful of corner markets. But the location is ideal, halfway between Punta del Diablo and Chuy on the border with Brazil. There is a huge stretch of beach the goes on for miles and is broken intermittently with rocky outcroppings that turtles swim thousands of kilometers from the Caribbean to find just to munch on tasty algae. The base camp where we stayed wasn't what you would call luxury, but it had everything you needed...a sink, some water, a toilet out back, some wood slat walls to mostly protect from the elements...but not mosquitoes, a camp stove and a big table to share our meals. Out front there is a visitor center of sorts and a small gift shop selling t-shirts and trinket things with turtles on them. There are displays explaining the life cycle of a turtle, the dangers that they face (pretty much all human caused), the different species that make a yearly pilgrimage to the Uruguay coast and a series of pools where we keep the turtles that are going through rehabilitation.

I wasn't entirely sure what I would be doing when I got there. The information they sent me prior to my arrival said something about working with animals in rehab and capturing turtles in nets and tagging them. It also said something about being in decent physical condition to walk the beach for hours. I got there at the end of January and had the interesting challenge of trying to fit into a group that was already established. There were maybe 18 people all together, 2 of which were coordinators and 2 other locals...aside from that it was a group of volunteers who had all been working together for quite some time and didn't seem to interested in meeting another person. I showed up on a day where they were planning on doing a liberation, so a whole crowd of people came to see the turtle get measured and weighed. In the end they couldn't let her go because the weather wasn't ideal. For a turtle just coming out of rehab you don't want the waves to be too strong...and unfortunately the break was looking a bit fierce.

What is going on? Who are all these people? Where do I put my stuff? What should I be doing? Where is the bathroom? How can I help? What does that mean? What is your name? Where are you from? Why are you here? I spent me first couple days pretty much wandering around in a creepy way behind people who knew what they were doing and asking a lot of questions. No one really thought to explain to me what was going on, how things worked and what was expected of me. I suppose they all kind of forgot that I was new and didn't have the slightest clue what was going on. Eventually I started to pick up the pattern, every night at dinner (which was always at some ungodly hour near midnight) Gabi and Dani, the two coordinators, would put up a board with everyones tasks for the following day. It would say what we would be doing as a group: Avistamentos (turtle sighting and counting), Censo (walking the beach looking for dead animals), Campo (being in the field to try to capture turtles), Centro (staying at base and working in the visitor center), Rehabilitacion (working with the turtles in rehab), or Libre (free day for people that had worked their 7 days in a row). Aside from that there was the daily tasks of making lunch and dinner for the whole crew (something that was familiar from my time in natales except this time there was no supermarket to go to and much less equipment in the kitchen), cleaning the bathroom and running errands in town.

I was slowly starting to break into some of the group, a nice couple from the US, an American girl who grew up in the middle east, a quiet guy from Brazil, the local park ranger that just liked to hang out with us all the time and drink mate, and of course the 2 coordinators. But soon enough the whole group started leaving, 1 girl here, another girl the next day, 2 girls in the morning, the couple in the afternoon, 5 that came as a pack together in the evening...and then it was just me, 2 Brazilian guys, the 2 coordinators and the 2 locals. The next day new people started coming and before long we had a great new, international group; with people representing the USA, South Africa, Russia, Australia, Chile, Brazil, Spain and Uruguay. It was like my time there was actually starting and the first couple days were some strange transition. I was able to participate more in the work, things were getting explained to me, the people were friendly...it was looking up.

We had a few turtles in rehab. One pretty big one named La Bamba who had been there for over a month, Guri, a little thing that was pretty weak, Jueves, who was missing a piece of her shell, and escobar. La Bamba and Guri required a bit more care. Neither of them could eat on their own and needed help. When I arrived, there was a veterinary student who got nicknamed Dr. Ken who was predominately in charge of the turtle rehab. He was in his last year of vet school, hence the name Dr. and apparently the group of girls who started the volunteer term with him thought he looked like Ken, barbie's boyfriend. The name stuck. He was a nice guy, originally from Brazil and spoke Spanish with that heavy Brazilian accent. He knew what he was talking about and I liked tagging along learning about what he was doing for the turtles in rehab. I got to help preparing their special diet and feeding them while he explained what was going on with them. It made my heart break to see these critters so weak. We were doing everything we could, but they just didn't seem to get stronger. We would put Guri in the tank and she was so weak she couldn't breathe without help, she had issues with float ability, eating, breathing...it was hard to watch her, and we looked every day for signs of improvement. Eventually Dr. Ken finished his term and went home, we were trusted to the care of the turtles in rehab and given his direction on how to move forward. Escobar looked good, and was getting stronger by the day, so we were able to let him go. Jueves seemed to be strong and we were hoping to liberate her soon, but we lost her and guri on the same day after an excessively hot day. We had a quick visit from a vet from Montevideo, and she came to take La Bamba to the facility there. It was a happy and sad day when La Bamba left, I had gotten used to seeing her around and was hoping that I would get to be there they day that she got strong enough to go back to the ocean...but since there was nothing else we could do in the basic facility we had on the beach, it made sense for them to take her to the city.

But life in Karumbe wasn't just rehabilitation.There was liberation too! It's a big celebration with the town and tourists and kids all coming to be a part. Karumbe is actively involved with the kids in the community and preparing for Carnaval was part of the job as well. But the kids know Karumbe because of the turtles, it gives them a chance to get up close, and maybe if they are lucky, they get to touch one. It was wonderful to watch the faces of the little kids when the turtles would come up for air and scamper around from pool to pool looking at the turtles inside and asking all kinds of questions. But when liberation time came they would sit in a half-circle and patiently watch as the turtle was measured, weighed, skin samples were taken, and tagged. Then came the tradition...every turtle has to be set free with a song and dance...the chucho song. Man this thing was so catchy, it would get stuck in your head for days! Whenever I found myself walking down the beach, cleaning tanks, doing dishes, cooking food, there it was. I can't really even say it was a song, it was more like naming animals to a tune. It went a little something like this:

 Yo soy un chucho, una tonina, un agua viva, y un tiburon

 Yo soy in lobo, una tortuga, un pes escado, y un gaviotin!

I was lucky enough to do 2 different captures, sightings and censo as well. We had 14 healthy turtles tagged and released, celebrated Karumbe's 13th birthday, started making preparations for Carnaval, and lost 2 turtles. We had a massive electrical storm that lit the clouds with flashes of lightening, sweltering hot days where water from the hose was too hot to touch, cool nights wrapped up and reading in a hammock, cooking class with our park ranger Ivan who was formerly a chef, and lost of time to sit around shoot the breeze and while Chloe and/or Ivan sung and played the guitar.

A few days before the end of my time there my friend Angela showed up. I was so proud of her making it all the way to this podunk town in the middle of nowhere all by herself. I saw her walking up the road with her bright green backpack and it felt strangely like we were just saying hi after a couple days of not being in touch. We unloaded her bag, introduced her to the group and just like that she was part of the Karumbe family. Everyone was crammed in around the communal table eating dinner, passing plates, drinks, salt. There was a mismatch of languages, Spanish, English, Portuguese, and everyone trying to talk to each other. After the plates were cleared Angela and I headed down to the beach to watch the electrical storm overhead. She was quickly integrated into the rhythm of things and before we knew it, it was time to say goodbye to the turtles, the group and the beach.

The night before I left we sat around and had a family style dinner. You are expected to say a couple words to everyone before you go and they give you a certificate stating you completed your work there. What could I possibly say about this experience. It was short as far as my other volunteer experiences have gone, only 10 days, but it was so varied. I still can't believe that I was trusted to care for these amazing creatures. I was expecting to play a back up role, not really thinking that I would be feeding, holding and cleaning up after them. When things were slow I would sit there and watch them swim in their tanks, and take note of the amazing color and pattern of their shells and plate pattern on their faces. I learned that the markings on their faces are like our fingerprints...each one is specific to that one turtle. They had their personalities too, and there was something so incredible about letting them go and seeing their mad dash to get back to the ocean. To know that one we nursed back to health was now strong enough to go on its own...this was rewarding in ways I had never imagined. There was that sinking sadness when one didn't make it. What happened? What else could I have done? There was frustration and anger when a necropsy in the field told you that, yes, this turtle died because of human recklessness and the plastic lodged in it's throat and stomach was all the proof you needed. It reminded me of how I felt when I watched the fire in Torres del Paine, and had to battle feelings of anger and despair directed at the human species. Why are we so selfish? Why don't we care more about how we effect this planet and each other? But then there was the noble job of education. This little spot on the coast of Urugauy was drawing in volunteers from all over the world who are now actively spreading awareness about the sea turtle. This basic center is educating a community about the treasures that live in its waters and explaining how every single one of us can make a difference for this beautiful species. I remember meeting people from Argentina and Uruguay before I got to Karumbe and telling them that I was going to volunteer with sea turtles...and the looks of disbelief, "there are not sea turtles in Uruguay" they told me. They had no idea that there are in fact hundreds of turtles and a variety of species that spend the summers feeding there. Karumbe and a team of international volunteers are doing the job of spreading the word: yes there are turtles here, they are amazing, they call this place home, and you can do something to make sure they can keep coming back.

So what do you say to that? Thank you? That doesn't even seem like enough. I have been so surprised and inspired by every element of the work they do. I feel blessed to have been accepted to be a part of the team and this process. I will never forget the feeling of holding a healthy turtle in my hands as she wriggled for her freedom and as the smooth skin rises and falls with her breath sandwiched in a perfect shell as she slowly calms down. I flinched with the turtle when I was trusted to clean her shell of muscles and barnacles and saw that they had buried themselves between the plates and had grown roots down to the bone. "I'm sorry sweet thing, I know this must hurt, but it will be better in the end." I felt the fight when I took a sample of skin, and the modesty of trying to hide her tail when it was time to measure it...and those little moments are what bonded me to them. But the pattern on the faces and those deep dark eyes that stared right back at me...I think that is what touched me most. You look like a dinosaur, and came soooo far just to end up right here right here, right now. I came a long way as well, and I don't want to hurt you...I just want to learn about you, and learn about me too.