Don't Cry For Us, Argentina...

Sometimes, things don't turn out as you (or in this case, Noelani) planned, but, then, they turn out even better! That's what happened to us as we journeyed to Argentina. Our plan was to work on a WWOOFing farm for a month in exchange for food and lodging - an inexpensive way to explore a new country and be part of the community. One day before our flight from Ecuador to Argentina, the farm owner emailed to say that we were no longer welcome. He had a negative experience with the last WWOOFer and had decided not to have any more volunteers. Kinda awkward since that was the main reason we chose to visit Argentina in the first place. Ack! Alas, we were an object in motion, so we just kept going.

We met Briana and Ameen in Bariloche, celebrated Solstice and Christmas there in a sweet cabana, and attempted to find another farm in El Bolson, including two days of renting a car and driving the (beautiful) 2 hours there and back to visit the market and farms. No dice. Everyone was full, and the very rainy weather meant less work than usual. Our very last visit, though, proved to be the most fruitful: Bri and Ameen stayed home with Gabriel, and Noelani and I spent the afternoon attempting to find farms, and then finally met Alejandro, the cousin of Laura (the director of Gabriel's preschool), at his home in Lago Puelo, just 15 minutes south of El Bolson. Alejandro is amazing. After a few phone calls and visits, his legwork and connections landed us a house and a potential farm, so we hopped the bus the day after Christmas and came to Lago Puelo.

That was just 3 weeks ago, and today I was asked for directions (in Spanish), as if I was a local, and I answered (in my halting, limited Spanish). We also found steady work, volunteering on a farm in town (not the one we had expected, that one fell through - the raspberry crop was huurt too much by the rain and by the neighbors turkeys). Finding the connection to the new farm was kismet, the universe taking care of us...I was getting my hair cut and chatting about why we were here, and mentioned were looking to volunteer on a farm. The shop owner, who was cutting my hair, said "my mom has a farm, I'll call her." And so she did. Her mom was nervous about having us help - she doesn't usually have volunteers and doesn't speak English - but, slowly, we charmed her: Noelani, with her strong grasp of Spanish and williness to always use it; me, with my humor; Gabriel, with his devotion to the dogs and bunnies; and all of us with our hard work and commitment. Now, we are raspberry-picking, strawberry weeding, womaning the market booth 2 days a week, and even doing a little interior painting. Our daily commute is 25 minutes on foot (except Gabriel, who has a bike - bikes for us are too expensive), each way. Work is from 9am - 1pm, giving us the rest of the day to relax and play (and go to the gas station cafe to check our email and write blog posts).

I don't have pictures of the farm, but here are some from the house (did I mention we live next to the cemetary?) and the lake.