Buena Onda

How did I end up here? It is an inevitable question that enters most traveler´s minds at some point. In South America I have had a few experiences that have sparked this thought: when I found myself sleeping in some random Chilean lady´s backyard, when the bus stopped driving because a (peaceful) protest blocked the route—in this instance I was fortunate enough to be sitting with an outgoing Bolivian woman who explained to me what was happening. Sometimes the journey leads to the most interesting places, and the best thing to do, especially when you have no idea what is going on, is to sit back and enjoy it.

I am currently traveling solo for a couple of weeks. It seems that every day is a new adventure, and I am hardly ever alone. About a week ago I wished my traveling counterpart, Chris, well as he went to pursue a short term career on a farm. My own future was much less defined; without any real plan I was heading north. After reviewing the map of Argentina I decided to purchase a ticket to Tucuman because the name sounded funny, and so began another leg of the journey.

Upon waiting for my bus to my mysterious destination I encountered a familiar face, a friendly guy from California that I had met over a month ago in Chile. We filled eachother in on a months worth of travel because meeting a familiar face on the road is like meeting an old friend from home. A young British guy who was enjoying a year of travel before starting University (known as gap year in Engand) joined the conversation. He happened to be meeting his friend who was traveling Argentina by horse. A few hours later while we waited for our respective buses, I had learned a new card game, shared some empanadas, and exchanged emails with my friends. I did not realize that getting on my bus meant leaving my happy gringo trail behind.

It turns out that Tucuman really isn´t that funny, or anything special for that matter, but it led me in the right direction. From Tucuman to Tafi de Valle, Tafi de Valle to Amaicha, Amaicha to Cafayate, I am now on a different trail. I am traveling with an Argentinean guy who could easily fall under the hippie classification, and three Uruguayan girls who turn heads when they walk down the street. Our time is spent drinking yerba mate, the conversations are in spanish, and I am now sleeping in a tent that a Argentinean has given me on loan. My vagabonding status has reached a new level. However I ended up here, es una buena onda…