Advertisement
Published: July 12th 2009
After my adventures in skydiving, I had been in Cordoba for almost two weeks. My second week in Cordoba was less action-packed but no less interesting. I walked around the downtown area some more and rediscovered some of my favorite landmarks in Cordoba, including the neo-Gothic church (see pictures below). After taking it easy during the beginning of the week, I packed my schedule towards the end. I hadn´t planned on being in Cordoba past two weeks, but a certain girl named Mica changed things (I´m not complaining!) On Wednesday Mica invited me to an evening Mass. I hadn´t been to church in quite awhile and thought it would be interesting to experience a service in Argentina. Although I´m not Catholic, I could follow along with the Mass pretty well. Following the Mass there was a youth prayer/study group that I was also invited to attend. Again, not Catholic, but why not? These are the experiences that you remember, sitting in a cold, dank classroom in a Catholic Church in Cordoba, Argentina, listening to a group of people in their 20´s discussing religion. This is the candid side of a foreign country that most travelers never get to see. The Father
that led the study group was a mountain of a man and held a deep, impactful discussion about suffering and finding happiness. I was glad to be able to speak the language and follow along for the most part. I even found myself repeating the rosary dozens of times with the rest of the group. When in Rome... After the group was over we all went to a restaurant for pizza (by this time it was 11pm). Of course everyone was curious about what this pale white kid was doing at their study group, but they responded with a curious fascination. Their questions continued throughout the night and by the end I was exhausted. There´s only so much grilling you can take (especially in another language) before your head starts to hurt.
On Thursday night I was able to have dinner with my good friend Cesar, his girlfriend, and Mica. I was supposed to be there at 10pm, but after taking the wrong bus didn´t make it there until 11:15. They were starving by that point. Damn Yankee!
On Friday I went to the National Park ¨Quebrada del Condorito,¨ home to a large group of Condors, a truly
majestic bird. Their wingspan is about 9 feet (about 3 meters) and even from far away their size is imposing. I went on my own and took a two hour bus ride to the park. The hike to the North Balcony, the prime viewing area for the Condors, was a little over two hours. I passed through some beautiful valleys and canyons as I made my way to the end of the trail. I arrived at the North Balcony in the middle of the afternoon and quickly made an enemy. After watching a few condors fly by, I started to eat my sandwich for lunch. Two small birds flew over towards me and were looking at me. Their eyes were piercing. Either they were curious or just really hungry. I tried to ignore them and took pictures of some more condors, sandwich in hand. As I was looking up, I suddenly heard a flutter and then something hit me. I jumped. I looked at the rocks above me and there was the gray bird with a piece of ham dangling from his mouth. He was still staring at me. ¨Maldito!¨ And just like that, he was my enemy.
After
a few more sightings of condors, I began to head back. Although I managed to get some decent pictures, the condors were often so far away that my dinky little camera couldn´t get close enough. On the way back the wind picked up and I started to shiver a little. I was in the mountains after all. I spotted a fox at one point (see picture below) but before I could get any closer it had run off. As I got closer to the entrance to the park I quickly became fatigued. I checked the time and realized that the bus heading back to Cordoba would be passing by any minute. I would have to flag the bus down from a random spot on the highway, which is never easy. About 1.5 miles away from the entrance I began to run. This did not make me feel any better. By the end I would walk about 11 miles (17 kilometers), a truly exhausting hike. With my last ounce of strength I ran full speed ahead to the highway but was still a few minutes away when the bus came roaring by. ¨Maldito!¨ again. I would have to wait another 40
minutes on the side of the road until the next bus came. My return ticket was for a later bus, as I had hiked quicker than expected. At first the bus driver wouldn´t even let me get on because I had a different ticket, but after some begging and pleading he finally let me have a seat. Way to take my masculinity, buddy.
I took it easy that night and got some rest for the next day, Saturday. Mica´s father, Carlos, had invited me to go with him to a game of futbol (soccer) for the day. He´s a coach for a local club of players over 35 years of age. I had nothing better to do so I went. Little did I know that this day would
really take me to the other side.
We arrived at the cancha, field, about an hour before game time. There were five futbol fields and, in true Argentinean fashion, about six parrillas (grills) all in a row. First, the game, then the asado (barbecue). Carlos introduced me to the whole team and they were of course very curious to know more about me. At times a little too curious. Many
of the players were over 40 or even 50 years old it seemed and I had a lot of respect that they played so hard on the field. They tied 1-1 but it was still an exciting game.
After a bit of rest, la joda (the party) started. Cordobeses, people from Cordoba, know how to do la joda really well, even some of these guys who were old enough to be my dad. The beer and cheap white wine started flowing, and all the various teams had several grills going at once. Once the endless plates of sausage and beef came, it was on! All the guys began to wonder if I drank as much as I ate, and at least in this respect I disappointed them. I was still totally exhausted from my long hike in the Condor park from the day before, so I drank slowly and deliberately. I was with Carlos, anyways, and the last thing I wanted to do was make a bad impression.
By this point things began to get dicey. Like the alcohol, the questions and inquiries began flowing just as much. Are you going out with Carlos´ daughter? Is she hot?
Do you like to do (insert random sexual position here)? Is Carlos´ wife hot (again, old enough to be my mom)? Ah, you´re Carlos´ son-in-law, right? Especially when it got to sex talk, it was stuff that even among people my age in the US had never come up in conversation before. And these here were grown men. It was like a brutal interrogation and there were points where they were doing a good job of pushing my buttons. How were they going to ask me all of this stuff, especially in front of Carlos? What surprised me even more was how juvenile they acted at times, but later somebody told me that this is how the Cordobeses are, raucous and wild with no apologies. Apparently they weren´t trying to annoy me, but they did a good job anyway. The kicker though was that these were fifty year old men acting like this. The goalie was especially bad and I even had to chew him out a couple of times because his questions regarding Mica were over-the-top. Let´s just say I won´t repeat most of them here. The whole time Carlos was floating around talking to other people, but he
must have noticed what was going on. If he wasn´t there it would have been different, but still.
Several beers, several bottles of cheap white wine, and a couple bottles of Fernet (a medicinal tasting Italian liquor that is popular here) later, la joda was over. It was a really fun day but exhausting in every way. Regardless, it was just beginning. This would be my last night in Cordoba, so my roommate Georgina had invited a bunch of people over to the apartment for a party. Mica and some of her friends came, and I introduced them to some choice cuts from my iPod. Pretty soon it was 5am, and everyone went home. A typical night here. It was a great send-off though and it did make me think twice about leaving Cordoba. At this point I had been there for almost three weeks and made a lot of friends in such a short amount of time. As a friend of a friend had told me in Cordoba two years ago: ¨Why are you leaving Cordoba, la joda is here!¨ This guy was right again for sure, but I had to continue my journey. I hadn´t seen the
rest of the country yet, and all the mountains, endless landscapes and national parks were calling me. I was being pulled in many different directions, but in the end there was one direction that stuck: west to the Andes mountains and the wineries of Mendoza.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.101s; Tpl: 0.013s; cc: 12; qc: 50; dbt: 0.0525s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.2mb
Josh
non-member comment
"Can I Kick It? Yes You Can!" Genius.