As part of the program, we had a weeklong excursion in a region of Patagonia, more specifically the towns of Bariloche in the Rio Negro Province and Esquel in the Chubut Province. Argentina is a much larger country than many people in the United States realize. For reference, when I first traveled to Argentina at the start of my program, it was a 10-hour flight from Dallas, Texas to Buenos Aires, which is located in the upper middle portion of Argentina. At the start of our excursion, we flew to Bariloche, and our flight ended up being about 2 ½ hours. Perhaps the seemingly large size of Argentina made it easier to comprehend the drastic change in climate as soon as we stepped off the plane. Buenos Aires is relatively flat (topographically speaking), hot, and humid. Bariloche in comparison was like a balm to my Pacific Northwest soul. Mountains on every horizon with snowmelt draining into lake basins, cool winds bringing fresh air, and far less people.

During my trip to Patagonia and in general, I have really come to appreciate the novelty of stumbling upon things by happenstance. I do not think this is unique to studying abroad, or even traveling more often than not, but I think when occupying an environment vastly different than the one you are used to, defying routine-like behaviors, and possessing, at almost all times, an underlying desire for some type of adventure, stumbling upon remarkable things becomes increasingly probable.

In this instance, we had the first morning free in Bariloche, and a group of students wanted to go hiking around Cerro Campanario. After some minor difficulties with the bus schedule, we found ourselves at the foot of a mountain forty minutes from Bariloche. Upon walking up to the trailhead, what should we discover but a chairlift that went directly to the top of the mountain. My group of three split off and took the chairlift to the top. The view was incredible and there was an outlook with a small restaurant at the top. What made it most amazing for me was not planning to discover this at all. I thought we were going to hike a few miles up some admittedly beautiful mountain terrain and get to admire the view from a slightly elevated perspective, so happening upon this strange little chairlift in a remote part of Patagonia was quite incredible.

We were fortunate to have the opportunity to meet with a number of incredible organizations/communities during our trip. Several of these communities were Mapuche, who are a group of indigenous tribes that historically populated regions of southwest Argentina and south-central Chile. We visited three different lofs (distinct Mapuche communities), two in Bariloche and one around Esquel, to learn about the history of the Mapuche people and their current struggles to preserve their culture, land, and language. The Mapuche people have a long history of resistance against colonialism and oppression. During our visits, I found that many Mapuche perspectives shed light on issues of social justice and inequality, including economic disparities, discrimination, and marginalization, and that their traditions, language, and worldview offer alternative ways of understanding the world outside the pervasive white hegemonic Westernized perspective.

Another organization we visited was called Piuke, after the Mapuche word piuké which means heart. Piuke is an environmental organization in Bariloche, dedicated to conserving Patagonia’s natural environment through initiatives such as forest protection, reforestation, environmental education, scientific research, and advocacy for sustainable development. Though the organization was not largely Mapuche themselves, they worked closely with local Mapuche lofs and other schools, community groups, and government agencies to raise awareness about environmental issues and promote sustainable lifestyles.

During our visit, members of Piuke cooked a curanto dinner for us. The process entails lighting a fire and gradually adding rocks until only the heated stones remain, then covering them with leaves and branches. Next, meat, vegetables, and fruit are placed on top of the branches, followed by more layers of branches. Finally, the entire setup is covered with a burlap tarp and buried underground for several hours, allowing the heat from the stones to cook the food slowly.

While we were waiting for the food to cook, my friend Romita and I befriended a young girl and her brother who were running around Piuke. There are no children in my immediate host family, so it was a delight to play around with some kids. The most rewarding part of the whole interaction for me was that we were speaking to these kids entirely in Spanish. I have to give Romita a lot of credit for carrying most of our conversations with them, but it was so cool to be able to talk to these kids in another language.

My language acquisition at this point in the semester has undoubtedly improved. I have only ever spoken English at home and in all aspects of my life, so having to speak Spanish constantly has been formative for my abilities to communicate. I feel so fortunate to have the opportunity to practice with so many native speakers who are usually very kind and very patient when I struggle with instantaneously conjugating verbs or formulating sentences. To anyone thinking about studying abroad in a program where they are required to speak another language, I cannot recommend it enough. It is not something easy to undertake, you will definitely face obstacles and feel frustrated at times, but there is nothing I have experienced that has been as rewarding. Having these small moments everyday contribute to this profound sense of growth and accomplishment. Until next time, chau!