Archive: Impact

November 20, 2008 - March 10, 2009

Plastic water bottles purchased: 52

Number of bicycles rented: 6

Distance traveled by airplane: 25371 km

Distance traveled by train: 700 km

Santiago

My return to Canada was wonderful but short-lived. I spent a month working in Toronto and I had passed just 10 beautiful days in Vancouver and then found myself back on a Chile-bound airplane. That morning, as I ate my soggy eggs in a plastic container and looked out over the infinite sea of clouds blanketing the pacific I thought about what it means to personally spew 2 1/2 tons of carbon on 'earth day'.

I am back due to the passing away of my grandfather. All the family is here together and the good memories of his life have balanced the sad moments. Landing in Santiago this time was different. Such strong memories of my trip and of him came rushing back. Memories that seem like they had faded so quickly as I slid back into my Canadian routine and lifestyle. But I will never forget the smells that greet you in Santiago as you step out of the airport. Its like a smokey sweet blend of smog, warm dry air and the stale Mapocho river. When I got to the 13th floor of the apartment building I realized I had not remembered how bad the smog gets here in the fall. Literally: where did the cordillera go?

There is no computer or internet in this apartment so yesterday I tried to find a wireless connection I could link to on my laptop. After about 25 networks asking for passwords (lots of tall apartment buildings in this area of the city) I found one that works in a 1m cubed zone close to the window by my grandmother's desk. After standing near the window holding the computer on my knee for a while I figured out that I can use it on the desk then just hold the thing above my head near the window every time I press 'send' or switch pages. It makes me laugh to think what the neighbours in the next building think I'm up to.

I went to the supermarket a couple days ago to stock up on food with Alicia. Apart from almost freaking out trying to enter a multi lane roundabout where endless streams of cars were flying by, everything was fine until we got to the juice isle. An action that has brought a smile to my face so many times before became so hard to do. As I slowly placed the box of Watt's apricot nectar in the cart it really hit me. The man who created all this is no longer here, and even though the company was sold years ago seeing that carton always brings back those stories he told me so many times of how it all started.

Altiplano Boliviano

Estas fotos son de un viaje de 4 dias en el sur oeste de bolivia en febrero.

100 % llama wool baby!

Cordillera Sud Lipez

Llamas y volcán

Aguas calientes en un salar

Geysers Sol de Mañana (~4900m)

Flamingos en la laguna Colorada

Arbol de Piedra en el desierto de Siloli

Laguna Honda

Salinity inspector (at a 'salt hotel')

Salar de Uyuni

mate y coca (larger than life)

Tabacal

Due to a relative that works there Andrea and I got a deluxe guided tour of TABACAL, a large scale sugar cane plantation and refinery in the province of Salta in Northern Argentina, right on the border with Bolivia. The refinery was started in 1920 and was recently bought by a large USA based company with agricultural interests all over the world.

Sugar cane in February has not reached full height. It was not very sweet when I broke a cane and licked the juices. Harvest season is from May to November.

It was only possible to grasp the immensity of 25000 hectares of sugar cane from the air. The company pilot (as he text messaged on his phone) casually toured us around the enormous property that completely surrounds the company workers town of Yriogen and the city of Oran.

The sugar refinery and alcohol distillation plant on the left. On the right is the houses for the managers and upper positions of the company.

Since we visited out of harvest season, the refinery is not working and much of it is under repairs or maintenance. The sugar cane is now almost entirely harvested by mechanical combines. The company is now eliminating the once common practice of burning the dry leaves of the cane before harvest to reduce weight (this matters when you process a quarter million tons of cane). This photo shows where the cane is unloaded by the trucks. It is then splintered and goes by conveyor belts to the refinery.

These are the crushers (machine is missing more rollers under repairs). The sugar cane juice is extrated and piped away. The leftover fiber is burned to make electricity for the factory, town and city.

The juice is heated in these tanks to evaporate the water. Chemicals are added to stabilize, preserve and purify. A huge tangle of pipes, tanks and machines end up at the crystalization tanks where the sugar is dried with hot air.

Sugar is packed by hand and by machine into different size packages. Many jobs in the factoy remain hand labour because of the pressure the labour unions put to keep jobs.

Loading trucks means beginning to disassemble the `building` of sugar from the top.

Town of Tabacal has its own church and all the buildings are matching architecture from the 30`s.

Valles Calchaquies

In the back of a pickup truck - there are no buses between Angastaco and Molinos. Andi's forced smile is due to the very windy road.

Quebrada de las Conchas, Cafayate

Cachi

Las Pailas with Nevado de Cachi

Trains

I wasn't sure what to expect when I decided to take the train to Cordoba. At about $15 for a '1st Class' ticket the price was right so on a Monday evening I headed to Estación Retiro, Buenos Aires' largest train station. The train was full and we left right on time heading north past the train yards full of rusting locomotives, the shanty town beside the tracks, and then the well off suburbs of north Buenos Aires. Traveling by train you get a 'backyard' type view into how people live. With windows and doors open, you get glimpses of kitchens, back patios, workshops and tiny parks all alive with people ignoring the passing train. Some views stay with me - a fat kid with a grubby shirt leaning on the wall of a patio filled with tires, several pairs of feet resting on a table visible by the flicker of a tv, three teens on motorbikes patiently waiting for the train to pass. An hour later the visual sights began to fade into darkness of the night and smells took over my senses. First the pungent smell of a river in the city, then the sweet smell of empanadas coming from the train's food vendor. Not long after the smoke of garbage burning by the tracks mixed with the moist smell of rain on hot earth. Then the storm came. Now all I could focus on was the thunder almost drowned out by the loud clanking of the train on old tracks. The lightning was surreal over the pampas. The rain poured down and in.

Apart from the rough rash from the sweat plus vinyl seats combination and wet feet I felt somewhat refreshed the next morning. I soon found out why - the train had been stopped most of the night. I looked outside. We were moving slowly and there was water everywhere. Some people were frustrated, others looked uninterested - like if this happens all the time (maybe it does). The many kids around me were starting to get restless. There was a steady stream of thermos laden passengers (heading for the dining car to get hot water for their mate) passing back and forth. The flooding receded, we picked up speed passing through Rosario and Villa Maria. Just before Cordoba I suddenly noticed that I was the only person with my window open in my car. The old man across the aisle whispered that I close it. As I slammed down the metal grill I saw the kids hurling rocks. At 4PM we arrived in Cordoba's Estación Mitre, 20 hours after leaving Buenos Aires. The trip took exactly double the time the bus takes, but was worth the experience for so many reasons.

Buenos Aires

Here are a few highlights of the many fascinating buildings, plazas and landmarks of this city. As interesting as they may be on their own, the best part about this city are the things you find by accident - the beautiful buildings hidden around every corner reminding you of what this city once was...

Downtown B.A. looking towards Plaza de Mayo

Plaza de Mayo

The main square of Buenos Aires celebrates it´s independence from Spain on May 25, 1810. The temporary fence has been in place to control protests since about 2001 when the country was hit with a serious economic crisis.

San Telmo is a neighbourhood where wealthy residents built homes in a colonial style. After a serious epidemic most moved to higher land in Buenos Aires´northern area and San Telmo mansions were converted into tenements by the thousands of immigrants arriving from Europe.


Recoleta Cementary - the most prestigious place to be buried

El Ateneo Bookstore - previously a cinema

Microcentro street scene. Corner building designed by Antoní Bonet in 1939.

Banco de Londres by Clorindo Testa, 1960

Puerto Madero was the old port district now converted into high end shops, restaurants and condos. The bridge is by Calatrava.

'Floralis Genérica' by architect Eduardo Catalano. The sculpture opens and closes based the light of the sun.


Riding Buenos Aires' Metro (SUBTE) can be a truly cultural experience. It was the first in South America when it opened in 1913 and sometimes it feels as if not all that much has changed. Riding the A line involves manually opening the doors of the vintage wood interior trains, enjoying the beautiful tiled murals in all stations and stopping at newspaper stands that sell books by Borges or Sábato alongside Playboy and the tabloids. That said, the trains are very slow, crowded and hot and the hallways are narrow and with my height you've got to watch out.

I have had the privilege to experience this spectacular city from an apartment with a view in Recoleta. Looking out towards the Rio de la Plata you see a fascinating linear progression of land uses. Directly below is Avenida del Libertador (an 11 lane avenue) with a park on the other side, then a string or soccer fields, next a large rail corridor, then an informal settlement of several thousands (villa miseria in spanish), then a elevated highway and finally the huge port of Buenos Aires. It is a captivating sight in the mornings. Now I am off to the Retiro station to catch the overnight train to Cordoba to meet my beautiful Andrea!