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Published: November 30th 2010
From the fabulous, remote wetlands of the Esteros de Ibera and the tiny town of Carlos Peligrini, I took the cheapest option out of town and arrived in the small, sweet gaucho town of Mercedes (population 32,000). This was a working, not a tourist, town, so only some of the early 20c buildings had been spruced up while others were in various states of decay. Yet it was clean and graffiti free, something I've come to treasure in this 21st century. Days were warm and in the deliciously cool evenings, townfolk and gauchos filled the leafy plaza. The gauchos were very attractive in their berets or flat, wide-brimmed hats, rather jaunty pleated, blousy pants, and wide colorful or silver-studded belts.
The town's claim to fame is the shrine to Gaucho Gil, a popular Robin Hood character from the 19c who was captured and hung nearby. The shrine has grown to an enormous size with warehouses for the heaps of votive offerings including guns, knives, cigarettes, photos, wedding gowns and more. All around, a wonderfully-tacky zoo of entertainment included playgrounds and bouncy castles, little restaurants with empanadas, roast meat and beer, and a profusion of stands selling everything from religious do-dads
to mate gourds to underwear. It was all there, the sacred and profane in a great stew.
I was there for November 10th, the Day of Tradition and attended a gaucho sheep fiesta, much like county fairs back home. First, there was a parade headed by the Virgin on a motorcycle. Then, on horseback came gauchos, pilgrim followers of Gaucho Gil. Following them was a group representing the veterans of the Malvinas War, known back home as the Falklands War of 1982. Their Argentine flag had the Malvinas Islands printed largely on it. Everywhere in Corrientes State, I saw bumper stickers proclaiming that the islands belong to Argentina. And as in many other small-town plazas, Mercedes had a monument to the local soldiers who had died in the war. Bringing up the end of the parade were about 20 girls carrying an enormous flag of Argentina. And I thought Americans were flag-crazy!
Schools and church groups had set up food booths, and dogs lurked around trying to make off with something from the pots of boiling or roasting meat. Crafts booths sold clothing made from the sheep's wool, gaucho goods and really ugly art. I bought yet another
pair of cheap sunglasses. A barn was filled with hot, panting sheep with coats of 4-inch wool while their ex-comrades were being eaten outside. The smell of the cooking meat was making me feel a bit ill, so after watching the sideshow for awhile, I headed back out to wait for a bus back to the hostel.
Next, would I follow the gringo trail to Rosario and learn of history, or would I opt for pleasure in hot springs along the Uruguay River? Time would tell.
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