I'm home!

I haven't posted on the blog in a while, which is a shame because I have a lot of stories.. but the big update is that I am back in NYC! I will work on finishing up the stories from the trip over the next few weeks, and I hope to catch up with all of you in person!

--Chase

A few pictures from Scuba Diving

Yesterday I completed my open water scuba diving certification. The final dive for the test was to go through a sunken ship 30-40 meters down in the shore off Puerto Madryn (this was not standard protocol, lol). The certification I received after the dive is only valid for depths of up to 18 meters. Here are a few photos from the experience:

I don't have any pictures of diving with the sea lions, but that was a cool experience as well :)

El Bolsón, part 2

As one should expect from a partially constructed organic house, the adobe was rustic. The building lacked windows, a proper floor, a bathroom (this would not have made much of a difference, but I will get into that later), or a kitchen. It did have a temporary gas stove, electricity, a mat for me to share with Dan the man, and a whole lot of dust. I was to live inside the house with Emile, and Dan—a Swedish video-game designer.

There were five other people at the chacra. Three French backpackers who had dropped out of college to live as far out of the system as possible, a plastic art/movie maker name Mate—he dropped out of college because the art critics at his school were hacks, and finally Bruno ‘Mono’ Mendoza—who got his nickname for being born on the day of the mono entonada in the Mayan calendar.

Food was interesting on the chacra, and the characters had an interesting relationship with it. Mostly one of hate, I think. We more or less ate vegan camping food. This is to say we had one stove and few pots, Accordingly, we used the big pot to boil potatoes, rice, or pasta, and then let that sit while we cooked some sort of seasoning (if we were lucky). We always had salad made with fresh produce from the garden, and as many apples and oranges as we could muster. In general the idea was to remain as self sufficient as possible.

I don’t think people actually hated food in Bolson, in fact many, including myself, enjoyed to cook. I think people simply felt superior to the majority of humanity by eating vegan food and living without products made by the man. This being said, work was hard, and every person was willing to cave, drink a beer on occasion, or maybe (maybe) some butter.

Emile had a particularly interesting relationship with his food. He ate cruda. That is to say he refused to eat anything (except for the time he had home made pizza, lol) that had been cooked above 40 Celsius. His diet mostly consisted of a small mountain of apples at 11 am, a salad at 1pm, and then oranges at 6pm. He refused to eat in the mornings or at night, and fasted 2 days a week. His rational for fasting was that all great thinkers fasted. He felt closer to his thoughts and a better at meditating when famished. So he abstained from the act of eating.

Emile would go on about the merits of not eating and how he was tracking the movement of the moon in order to paint a better picture of it than anyone else in the world. In his previous life, Emile was a theoretical physicist from Switzerland. A daily ritual of his was arguing about spirituality and the merits, or lack there of, of movies, books, and all things not spiritual. Another was discussing the merits of vida cruda. I am not quite sure what to make of Emile, his character should be in a movie at some point though. I am not sure if he was a genius, or is going to be the next ghandi, but he certainly looked he could be.

Dan the man was way into the work on the farm. He liked the ‘structure’—effing overachiever. He graduated from high school and then made an interesting career choice. Instead of going to college decided to go work full time as a video game developer. He actually got paid 20 euros an hour to design levels for first person shooters. I really can’t think of a cooler job. As you know all good things can’t last, and after 3 years of mismanagement by his bosses, he was out of a job, and the company out of business. He decided to go to South America to find himself, decide if college was right for him, and landed on the chacra. Three years of the ‘real world’ job of video game design had given Dan a love for authority. He was tired of the all-nighters and pizza at work, and was ready for some good old-fashioned manual labor. You know, real man stuff, organic style.

The work we did was needlessly difficult due to the lack of ‘non-essential’ tools. We mostly were plastering the walls of two different adobe houses. Adobes are wooden framed houses with reboke—a natural cement mixture (two buckets of clay, 6 buckets of sand, and 1 bucket of finely cut up hay). Before plastering we had to prepare the reboke. This consisted of chopping up hay with a machete—could have been easier with a grinder, preparing clay—we had to take it from its dry form, add water, and mix it to a milkshake consistency with our feet. After those ingredients were prepared, we threw them into a concrete mixer and added the sand. After a few minutes.. Reboke!

Once the mixture was made, each person would fill a bucket, take a large cement knife and have at the walls. The first few days of this work was difficult, but after a little practice, it turned out to be pretty pleasant. This being said, I was not eager to do extra work, unlike some people, and took the first opportunity I could (without slacking of course) to take a break or end work.

quick update

A quick update, after El Bolson I spent the weekend in Bariloche where I went mountain biking and paragliding. I am now in Puerto Madryn where I am going scuba diving with sea lions for the next few days. Here are a few pictures from the weekend:

A picture from the air:

I will finish the Bolson story later in the the week when I have time.

El Bolsón, part 1

I am going to have to tell this story in parts because it is rather long. Here is what I have so far:

El Bolsón. Oh El Bolsón. Where do I begin to describe my experiences there? A lot can happen in a week.

Maybe it was because I was homesick, or just sick of city life, but I was ready to leave Buenos Aires. My language program had gone on for about a week to long and I was itching to see something new. Getting on the bus at Retiro, I was excited for the journey ahead. I didn’t know what to expect for farm living. I realized I was going to the woods, but hadn’t given the actual day-to-day existence much thought. I was going to a ‘farm’, whatever that meant. I figured I would be milking cows, or something. I probably would have had a better idea if I had actually read the description of the place before arriving.

The bus from Buenos Aires to El Bolsón was relatively painless. The bus, comprised only of first class seats, had great food and lots of alcohol. The twenty-plus hour ride passed very quickly due to the combination of many movies, fully reclining seats, and lots of cocktails in Styrofoam cups. For the record, Julia and Julia is a very cute movie.

After arriving in Bolsón, I pulled out the directions for the chacra (organic farm), and found the first remis (local taxi). I handed the directions to the driver and told him to take me to the farm. At the time I didn’t think much of it, but he had no idea where the place was. I should have taken this as a sign. After driving for about 20 minutes away from Bolsón, and towards the middle of no-where, he had to pull over to ask for directions to the farm. As it turned out, the distance from where he first pulled over to the chacra was less than a kilometer, but the 3+ stops for help made it feel much longer.

After arriving at ‘Aqui y Ahora’—here and now—he let me out and told me I should walk the rest of the way. He promptly drove off and I was left at a fence in the middle of the forest with a road behind it leading off into the distance. I opened the fence and walked down the road with my bags to a house around the bend. It was at this point that I started thinking ‘What have I gotten myself into?’.

‘Hola’ I shout. No response.

‘Hola, me llamo Chase Hensel. Soy un miembro de WWOOF’ I shout a second time.

‘Hola! Me llamo Emile, mi hermano Arturo esta tomando una siesta adento. Un Segundo' someone shouts. There was a man sitting in a lawn chair in the grass in front of the house. The man, Emile, gets up, walks over to me, gives me a hug, and walks inside the house to grab his brother, Arturo. Thank god I thought, I am in the right place. Arturo was the name of my WWOOF contact.

Arturo, Emile and I had a brief conversation about how strange it was that I was from New York City, exchanged pleasantries, and hug a second time. The two brothers then lead me to the adobe in which I was to live and work on for the next two weeks.

Last day in Buenos Aires

Today is my last day in Buenos Aires. This afternoon I take a 20+ hour bus south to el Bolsón Argentina (two hours south of Bariloche). If you want to hear anything more about the trip let me know.

--Chase

Buenos Aires at night

Here is the Buenos Aires skyline at night from the river:

Running through a tropical storm.. or how I ruined my iPod

This past weekend I went to Punta Del Este--the Hampton's of South America. With good reason, Punta is the first place I have been on the trip whose prices are on par with Manhattan. The city is beautiful. Set on a peninsula in the southeastern corner of Uruguay, half of Punta's beaches are in the tranquil Mar de la Plata, and the other half in the turbulent Atlantic Ocean.

Beach surrounds most of the cityscape providing amazing views from all sides. On the Atlantic, massive waves crush into a mix of black-stone and sand. In the river, one can see large stretches of green and yellow coast reminiscent of Corona commercials on TV.

My hostel was cove-side, fifty feet from the playa. Each morning, I braved the topical sun and walked the boardwalk that separated city-Punta from the ocean. This boardwalk was 5500 meters long and a prime location for local fitness gurus. It started on the bay-side, wrapped around the eastern point (Punta del Este) and ended at the large bronze statue of a hand protruding from the Atlantic beach--if you know anything else about Punta besides its nickname, it would be this hand.

Fancying myself a fitness buff, after walking the boardwalk the first morning, I decided to go for a run after the day's heat had subsided. Accordingly, I played in the big waves for a few hours, took a long siesta in a hammock outside my hostel, and then took another siesta in my bed--I'm leading a hard life down here :)

The majority of the day was sunny and blistering--maybe 95 degrees Fahrenheit at peak. Around 7 o'clock pm my waiting paid off... or so I thought. Clouds had filled the sky and the day's heat had vanished. I put on my gym shorts, grabbed my iPod, put on my sneakers and went running shirtless on the boardwalk (I know what you're thinking, but when in Rome).

I had made it roughly 500 meters when it started to drizzle. The ‘harmless’ clouds from before had turned out to be rain clouds. At the time I didn’t think much of the rain and continued to run, marveling in the view and enjoying the tepid weather. As I continued on, the rain slowly increased in strength and fervor. I ran and it rained.

As I reached the eastern point the monsoon struck. I learned that rain in the topics can come on quickly. The clouds had turned black and the wind had picked up considerably. Trees swayed, and I was drenched. At this point a car driving by stopped to ask if I wanted a ride. I graciously said no because I was close to home and waved them off. I struggled to keep running.

About 500 meters past the point I had to turn off my iPod for fear of breaking it in the rain (I later found out that the iPod was fine, but its speakers were indeed broken). I cut into a side street thinking I was close to home. In reality the hostel was 2 km away.

I kept running through in the dark (the clouds masked all light) as people around me fled frantically, and the water level in the streets started to rise. Signs we knocked over and branches broken from trees. Needless to say, I was a bit scared.

I ran through the center of town, the streets deserted as people hid from the rain in shops. My shoes were waterlogged and I was drenched. Finally, after about 8 more minutes of trudging through the rain, I reached my hostel. I walked into the building, shirtless, drenched, with a broken iPod in my hands, and recieived some strange looks. I smiled and commented ‘Pues, por lo menos no necesito ducharme por la lluvia’ (Well, at least I don’t have to take shower because of the rain), and walked to my room.

The rain left as quickly as it started. 30 minutes later the skies were clear and people resumed outdoor life. Order was restored. If you ever get the chance, run through a tropical storm. It’s an interesting experience.

I went for more or less the same run the next day (during the morning, with the locals this time), sin iPod, without any turmoil. It wasn't actually that bad.

China Town!

Here are some photos of my trip to Buenos Aires's China Town last weekend. Turns out you can get chicken lo mein in South America...

Tigre

On Saturday my friend Dustin (a cowboy from Colorado) and I went to an amusement park in a suburb of Buenos Aires called Tigre. There were no lines for any of the rides because of scattered showers during the day. Thankfully, the weather didn't close the park and we went on its two different roller-coasters 10 times each.

Tigre is slightly up-river from Buenos Aires, and is right in the beautiful Delta region of Argentina. The following pictures are from my 1 hour boat trip in the delta.

All in all this was a hilarious trip. It may not look it from the pictures, but everything was slightly off--I imagine it was kind of like visiting euro-disney in South America.

I will recount one ride--'El Infierno'. The Inferno is a haunted house. This ride starts with Dustin and I waiting in line for about 10 minutes, not quite sure what we are waiting for. (I only realized what a casa embrujada was after the fact) After the wait, 4 excited argentinians, Dustin and I were led into a hallway by a 5'4 ghoulish porteño with an ax. He led us down a corridor where the hallway was progressively darker and the ceiling progressively lower. After a bit of walking, Dustin and I (both over 6 feet) had to crouch-over, while everyone else could stand relatively normally.

At this point the hallway made a turn and the light completely cut out for the rest of the trip. Dustin and I had the same thought, we are going to get mugged by a ghoul in a haunted house in Argentina.

After about 15 minutes of walking into walls, having short men jump out at us from corners, crouching over to fit inside the hallway, and harassment by the short man with the ax to keep on pace, I was ready for the ride to be over. That was one of the scariest experiences of my life, and I was glad I got out alive!

Afterwards I ate a choripan, drank an agua sin gas and went on the log flume.

All in all an awesome day.

Yellow fever

Today I got the free yellow fever vaccine for the trip I am taking into the Bolivian jungle next month. This experience was a good test of my spanish skills. None of the nurses spoke English, and I had to make sure I would have no medical complications, receive instructions on what I can and can't do during the next ten days, and ensure and that the needle was clean. At a minimum I wanted to avoid accidentally getting aids or something to that effect.

The clinic was a quick experience. You show up, hand over your passport, wait in line, two minutes later you have a needle in your arm, and a piece of paper in your hand confirming that you received the vaccine. Afterwards you are sent on your way... without a lollypop :(

The Argentinean government offers free vaccines because the country is so close to so many place that require them (Bolivia, Brazil, Venezuela, ect.). I tried to capture some of this experience in photo, but I wasn't able to do it complete justice because I didn't get a shot of the examination room. I definitely got what I paid for in terms of the amount of hand holding I received, and overall sketchiness of the experience.

The building is the clinic:

Sign on the door signifying what was inside:

Hallway of the clinic:

Information they have for you to read after receiving the vaccine:

Certification of vaccination:

River Plate

Soccer fans in Argentina are famous for being 'overly enthused'. By this I mean they live the sport and get violent over it very quickly. I was told before I came to Buenos Aires that the only time I had to watch myself was during a game because I would probably get robbed or stabbed.

Yesterday I went to a River Plate game. River Plate is one of the two most popular teams in Buenos Aires. They are housed in a quaint stadium with a capacity of roughly 80,000. This place looks like a prison in comparison to most American stadiums. The reason being that the fans from the opposing teams must be separated by barbed wire in order to prevent scuffles, no alcohol can be served at the games, and fans from opposing sides must enter and exit the stadium at different times (again to prevent brawls).

Home team:

Away team: (See the barb wire)

I knew all of these facts beforehand and consequently did the smart thing (this time) and bought tourist tickets. For about 5 times the price (80 USD) I bought sideline tickets in a 'rich person's section', avoiding potential skirmishes. This worked out pretty well, and I ended up seeing a good game (River lost 1-0).

Actual game:

Fans here are interesting because they actually care. For example, getting up in the middle of a half is unheard of, and talking to friends is frowned upon. The idea is to watch, and support your team (from the day you are born until death).

Hear is a very short clip of what it sounds like to be inside the stadium:

Despite losing, and having to wait 45 minutes after the game for the opposing teams fans to leave the stadium, the River fans still cheered incessantly. The stadium was that loud until the River fans started to exit.

I feel old!

Cada semana quiero regresar a la casa a 3 o 4 de la madrugada. Por cierto esto es tarde por la mayoría de los estadounidense y casi normal para nueva york, pues en Buenos aires es súper temprano! Ellos bailan a las 6 o 7 o mas tarde en la mañana. Tal vez un día tomaré un redbull y seré un muchacho real.

Why Pizza..

It probably seems pretty random that I had the best Pizza in my life in Argentina, but it isn't!

Over the past hundred or so years there has been a large influx of Italian people into Argentina, and surprise, surprise, I'm pretty sure it has more italians than the US. A few of the national dishes in the country are gnocchi, and pizza (fugazzi especially). Also interesting they have a really good ceviche, and a mean piece of steak.

Super good food here

Pizza!

I think I had the best pizza of my life today. Two slices of la fugazza from el cuartito pizza shop. This place is famous in Buenos Aires for having one of the best slices in town. Each one looked like this:

The fugazza slice is comprised of mozzarella cheese, white onion, and bread. Basically it was a fluffy piece of focaccia with tons of cheese and onion.. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

I bought the slices and a liter of pepsi, went to a local park, stuffed my face, and finally tanned for a few hours.. a good afternoon!

Architecture!

There is an interesting mix of new and old architecture everywhere:

Very welcoming country..

Just kidding for the most part everyone has been super friendly!

Arriving to Buenos Aires

Today was interesting..

I originally thought I was arriving at the Jorge Newbery airport, which is conveniently located within 2 miles of my hostel. When I arrived in Buenos Aires, I quickly realized that I was not in fact at that airport, but rather at the I was the cities other airport, which is roughly 20 miles away.

So after getting my bearings, I decided I would take the colectivo (public bus) into Buenos Aires for roughly 50 cents USD instead of paying ~35 USD for a cab. At first, I was very excited about my street savvy--I was taking the local's bus.

Ok so this did NOT turn out to be easy. Basically there are about 140 bus lines in Buenos Aires, which are not well marked. After an hour of watching buses go by at the airport, I figured out which one was my line, and proceeded to take it for 2 hours into the center of town. This was pretty awesome as I got to see many of the different poorer barrios as well as the beautiful city center all from one convenient seat. I got to see the development from rural setting to urban metropolis through the bus system.

Fun fact: the buses don't make complete stops for patrons wanting to get off. This makes them fun because they go faster, and exiting like a game show where contestants try not to get killed.

To make a long story short, after 5 hours and a visit to the wrong hostel I got to my temporary home. A cab would have taken 40 minutes--totally worth it.

As promised, here is a picture from the plane of me flying over the andes.

Chile!

I just landed in Chile, the weather is warm, and I have free wifi. All is right with the world. I will post later today with pictures of the Andes!

--Chase

First Post

Hi all!

I am writing from the airport in Boston where I begin my trip down south.. way down south. I start my adventures in the lone star state, where I will stay for a few days, and afterwards, I will continue on to Buenos Aires Argentina, which will be my home base for the next three months! Keep in touch, and I will talk to you all soon!

Best,

Chase