Lagrimas de Oro - Tears of Gold

Another great dinner of half a roasted chicken with more purple cabbage and perfectly cooked potatos along with another bottle of the Syrah Malbec 2004 from the Bodega Callia, Mendoza. This is one of the best bottles of wine I´ve ever had, better than most from California... and in the supermercado its only $3.00 USD! We also have a very basic but tasty salad with every meal with these deep red tomatos that are to die for. Why can´t we get good tomatos back home? An instramental version of ´Blue Moon´from Breakfast at Tiffanys plays on the stereo followed by the theme from The Godfather.

The skies have turned black from what looks like an impending story and the temperature has once again dropped considerably. Berní comments that it will snow high up in the mountains but reassures me that we will receive no percipitation, `because it never rains in Barrael´. Earlier in the evening, walking back from town the wind started to howl, chilling me to the bone. The rapid changes in the weather are incredible and very strange at the same time. No wonder the Incas were always making sacrafices to the Gods.

After dinner we drive back into town to pick up a package but the shop is closed. On the way back to Bernís we run into Trillo, the politico/horse guide who is standing on the side of the road at the edge of town. Earlier Berní had told me that I would need to wake up very early for the trip up into the mountains. Trillo, who is obviously very drunk says that we should leave around 9 AM because 7 AM is just to early. He then asks Berní if he has a large shovel in case we need to do some digging. Finally, he asks me if I know how to ride a horse. “Sure,” I reply. “You know how to ride a horse well, ya?” he now asks.

Hmmm.... even if I had never ridden a horse before I wouldn´t have said no. The last time I was on horseback was Valentine´s Day two years ago on the beach just below Mendocino. I don´t think that really counts. The time before that was in Egypt like 13 years ago aboard a huge black stallion that almost killed me when it broke from our group and ran at break-neck speed across the Sahara desert finally jumping off a 15´ drop and stumbling to a halt. “Well, I´m not the best horseman in the world, but I know how to ride,” I lie. He and Berní simply look at each other and nod. For some reason I can´t sleep that night and I drain the iPod once again.

Awakened suddenly by what I have no idea and its pitch black outside but its already 7:30 AM. When I step outside I can hear the distinct pitter-patter of rain drops falling from the darkest of skys. I light my first cigarette for the day and wonder if we will still be able to make it into the mountains. Suddenly the rain all but stops and the sky begins to lighten. It is also very warm again – strange. I wish I could have brought one of my Stettsons for the trip... that and my goggles. I can´t believe I forgot my goggles!

I step back outside an hour later for my second cigarette of the day. I´ve gone from American Spirits to Argentine Marlboros to something called `Doral´with an eagle on the front much like my tatoo but they are aweful – that´s what $0.70 USD will get you down here. Now I´m smoking Argentine Lucky Strikes. When I step on the plane to return home I will quit... once again.

The rain has basically stopped but the cold wind is picking up once again. You can hear it on approach through the trees at first and then wham, it sweeps down upon the house and rattles everything. I anxiously wait. Even if we do head out on horse back, those grey skies won´t do anything for the photos. But I guess if we do find the sacred thermal baths adn bring back some samples it´ll still be worth it.

Its 9:30 AM and I´m eating again. Berní enters and sits down. “I think you should leave today,” he begins to tell me. It is de ja vu from the time I was in Honduras back in ´89 and we got a similar type of warning after having illegally crossed into neighboring El Salvador to conduct interviews with La Guerilla. “I think its snowing above and because it never rains here I think there will be problems with the road,” he cautions. Perla shouts out from the house, “You´re in luck Goyo! There´s a micro bus leaving for San Juan today at 1:30." - exactly an hour from now.

“I don´t think its safe,” Berní cautions once again “but how else are you going to get out of here?” Again I think, ´what the hell am I doing in the middle of the Andes in the middle of winter?! As Berní continues to tell me several stories of busses going over the edge in mudslides or getting washed away in flash flood river crossings I think, this could be my last Blog entry ever.......