Turning Argentine

One of the few drawbacks to my charmed life here is that, as a WWOOFer, my fellow volunteers and companions are uniformly English-speaking foreigners like me. I’ve had great luck and met some wonderful (mostly) girls since I’ve been here, but what’s been missing from the equation is the Argentine element. We spend a lot of time with Cynthia and her family, and speak Spanish during the time we’re together, but for the rest of the time, English dominates. I haven’t minded this too much, as I feel like my Spanish has improved a ton since I arrived in Argentina, and I feel really good about my fluency at this point, but I do feel like I’ve learned more Cynthia-isms than Argentine “modismos” or slang.

Until now. Two weeks ago, Federico arrived. I was the only volunteer here for a few days, and took advantage of the opportunity to get in some solo weaving and bread-making time, and wasn’t expecting anyone new until at least the following Monday. “A boy from Buenos Aires called last night, and he’s coming today at midday,” Cynthia told me Friday morning, as we were feeding the animals and cleaning the barn. She was excited about having an Argentine volunteer for the first time. A few days later, Maria Luz, another “Portena” or Buenos Aires resident, arrived, and my immersion deepened even further. “We’re going to Argentinize you, Sarita,“ Cynthia told me.

For the first time since I’d been here, I was the only gringa around. Daily life has changed in subtle ways, and I’ve realized how comfortable I was within my little cocoon of extranjeras. Instead of the communal, ubiquitous pot of oatmeal for breakfast each morning, I make my own portion with my black tea and milk, while Fede and Maria Luz eat their bread and pass mate (mah-tay). The never-ending list of possible empanada fillings that had been a constant topic of conversation among my fellow gringas since I arrived back in November petered out,. And for the first time in months, I felt like my Spanish got worse.

Spending time with two Argentine young people, I realized, is different than spending time with Cynthia. Cynthia is used to speaking to non-native speakers with various levels of Spanish proficiency; she speaks slowly, and with a minimum of slang. Maria Luz and Fede do not. I’ve found myself asking, “Que significa?” or “Que quiere decir…?” not once a day, as I had been previously, but nearly in every conversation. It’s been challenging, being thrust into this state of immersion. I’m more tentative in my speech, often following a sentence with a self-conscious, “Would you say it like that?” It’s made me feel much farther from the fluency I’ve been working towards, and at times, it’s brought up a frustration I recall clearly from my semester abroad in Chile, but which I thought I’d passed at this point.

Taking a step back, I know that all of these feelings of inadequacy are signs of growth. My Spanish has not gotten worse, it’s just that, for the first time since my first weeks in Argentina, I’m learning a lot each day. In addition, it’s made me realize just how foreign I am, and just how tight was the cocoon I had been living in, in the formerly American-dominated Casita. Fede and Maria Luz have brought me down to earth from my food-obsessed La-la Land. Fede’s vege-anarchist philosophizing includes plans to travel for three to five years, working his way around organic farms in exchange for food and lodging, and learning first-hand, while also studying from the impressive library of books he’s carting around. His hope is to eventually teach campesinos how to produce their food sustainably and self-sufficiently. Meanwhile, he entertains the rest of us with inventive and no-holds-barred culinary creations, heavily based in rice, polenta, lentils, and whatever happens to be in the Casita (hot chocolate polenta?) and random vulgar exclamations using the few English words he knows. Maria Luz, on the other hand, is using the last weeks of summer vacation from her university studies in Biochemistry to be here and learn about gardening and cheese making. Having gone to a bilingual school her whole life, her English is impeccable, but she does her best not to use it, for our sake (a week ago, an American friend I met in Buenos Aires in November arrived, so the balance has shifted a bit).

Walking back to the Casita from Cynthia’s the other evening, I could smell something delicious in the works as I approached. I walked in to find Fede frying up ‘tortas fritas,’ a typical Argentine snack, and Maria Luz preparing to make a tarta de verduras for dinner. I had a mate in my hand even before I could sit down. Six months into my life here, I'm finally starting to become un poco Argentine.

I guess this thing won't write itself...

Man, a neglected blog is the worst! The longer it goes unwritten, the harder it is to write. I've started composing blog posts three or four times, but clearly, haven't been able to finish one. Until now! Armed with a brand-new tiny little laptop that my parents brought down as a Christmas parents (Thanks Mom and Dad!!), I'm determined to get on the ball with this blog thing.

So, much has happened since the last installment. In a nutshell, we had Christmas at the farm, which was interesting and different, and fun. Christmas is celebrated here on the night of December 24th, with a big dinner, which is often made up of cold dishes, since its the middle of the summer. I won't describe all of them in detail, but let's just say that there was a lot of canned tuna, mayonnaise, and stuffed, rolled, and boiled foods involved. Here's a picture of the dinner:

I contributed a "special" dish my family eats on Christmas and Thanksgiving—a molded tomato soup-cream cheese-mayonnaise “salad” with radishes, celery, and green onions. While my siblings and I grew up loving this wobbly, salmon-colored appetizer, extended family and friends with whom we’ve shared our holiday meals usually take a polite sliver and fumble over inquiries about the contents and origin of the dish. I was psyched to attempt it using homemade cream cheese, mayonnaise, and vegetables from the garden, and to see what the family and other volunteers thought of it. Plus, given the 1960s theme of the meal, and Argentines' obvious fondness for mayonnaise and gelatin, my odd little addition had never been so "at home."

We sat down to eat around 10:00, and were still at the table when midnight struck. We toasted with pineapple-flavored sparkling wine, and then exchanged gifts. Cynthia had made each of us chicas (volunteers) a personal "Pan Dulce," the Argentine, much-better version of a fruitcake. It's like an Italian "panetone," and Cynthia's is really good. Jenny, Kat, and I (the December volunteers), had made a book for Cynthia, Nacho, Fede, and Sol, filled with recipes, photos, pictures, and poems. It came out really well, and it was great to see their reactions to it.

So that was Christmas! On the day of the 25th, we went down and did the animal chores in the morning, so Cynthia could sleep in, and I spent the rest of the rainy, chilly day in front of the wood stove, reading and journaling. It was cozy and quiet. Which was perfect, because the next few days were anything but!

(dot dot dot)

When I´m not eating...

I realized that I´ve left out an important part of my life on the farm: working. While it´s true that "work" is sometimes a loosely-defined term, with afternoons spent in the kitchen making homemade veggie burgers or gooseberry-rhubarb jam, we do spend a good portion of our time doing activities that more closely resemble what one thinks of as "farm work."

Each morning, we meet Cynthia down at the house and go to the barn to feed the animals and clean their stalls. The work isn´t hard, especially with four or five of us doing it, and it is really satisfying in its routine and rhythm. When the calf is tied up outside, the bunnies are fed and watered, the stalls are shoveled out, the pig has its bucket of wheat germ slop, and the poultry are busily pecking at their corn and vegetable peel breakfasts, we let the cows in, and my favorite part of the day begins: milking. I´m at the point where I can do this on my own, though there are always at least two of us doing it together. the milking machine is very simple, and the whole process takes only about 15 minutes, but watching the milk move through the clear plastic tube into the milk can (which actually looks like what a milk can has looked like for probably more than a century!), pouring it into a bucket, and then using that same milk later in the day for cooking, or cheese making, is just a magical thing.

For the past couple of weeks, we´ve been working on an expansion of Cynthia´s larger fruit and vegetable garden. I remember when she first mentioned the project and showed us the spot, it seemed like a huge undertaking. We started by clearing a plot next to the current garden (which is about 24 ft by 34 feet, roughly). This was hard work and took a few days of pulling out thorny michay plants, and digging up extensive and stubborn roots. Next, we dug three new holes for fence posts and carried heavy trunk posts from up by the house and planting them in the holes, along with large holes and earth. Then we had to undo the chainlink fence and wires that held it taut, extend it around the new posts, attach it to a new portion of chainlink fence, stretch it, and attach it to the old fence again. After that, we started carting wheelbarrow loads of compost, making new beds, and planting potatoes, broccoli, lettuce, and chard. Finally, the new garden is pretty much complete, and it´s so satisfying to see what we´ve done! I´ve adopted Cynthia´s habit of exclaiming, "Hermoso!" (Beautiful!) every time I pass, often out loud. Unfortunately, I don´t have any pictures of it uploaded yet, but I¨ll put them up when i get them.

Cynthia´s goal in hosting WWOOF volunteers is more to teach all that she knows about self-sufficiency, which is amazing, because it´s much more like an apprenticeship than just a volunteer job, and not a day passes without learning something useful about gardening, animal care, or most fun, cooking and baking. We are just as often leaning over Cynthia´s kitchen counter as out in the garden, and so far we´ve learned how to make: two types of cheese, jam, dulce de leche, bread, veggie burgers, empanadas, canellonis, flower champagne, granola bars, yoghurt, and butter. These sessions are my favorite, and have made me realize how easy it is to make some of the things that I would only ever think to buy in the grocery store.

Below is a picture of the greenhouse at the elementary school that Sol, Cynthia´s 10-year old daughter, attends. Cynthia built this greenhouse with the help of some other parents, all but one of whom have since dropped off the project, unfortunately. The saga of the school garden project has a lot of disappointment and frustrations, but Cynthia´s resolve to provide fresh vegetables for the 200 K-7 students at the school has carried the project forward. We work there every Wednesday morning, and it´s been really amazing to watch it transform from it´s state at the beginning, when it only contained last year´s bolting chard plants, to its current status, filled with robust and happy tomato, corn, lettuce, and squash plants.

And finally, the baby pio-pio´s.

On eating, and carving out my own space

It´s the start of my fourth week here at Rincon del Sur. Anna, who was here when I arrived, left on Friday, and today two new girls arrived, and I moved into a tent. The weather has been chilly and rainy lately, but I´ve been looking forward to the move. Our days are full, and there´s a lot of togetherness. With the rain, it´s hard to go for walks, and quiet, solitary moments are scarce. The tent will be a sanctuary, and now, with five of us, I need it more than ever.

Last Monday we decided we wanted to have Thanksgiving, and when we told Cynthia, she was more than happy to help us out. We spent all day Thursday in her kitchen, and ate a huge Thanksgiving feast around 9:00 that night. We stuffed ourselves, and got to eat leftovers the next day for lunch, too, just like home. Here was our menu:

turkey and stuffing
raspberry sauce (it came out really well, and was delicious with the turkey)
grilled eggplant and squash
cornbread
potato and parsnip puree
apple crisp
butternut squash pie
homemade honey vanilla ice cream (everything but the vanilla was from the farm)

It was all amazing, but the feast was also kind of a turning point for us in our food-focused lives here. The next night, once we had finally digested, Aily, Lucy and I decided it was time for a bit of a scale-back. We went on a long, gorgeous hike on Saturday and Sunday, and are trying to take it a bit easier on all the fresh dairy and rich meals (so we used milk in our quiche tonight, instead of cream :).

Beyond just attempting to leave this place fitting into the clothes I brought with me, living with a family that makes the majority of its own food has changed the way I think about the food I eat. I know Cynthia enjoyed our Thanksgiving dinner, and happily donated whatever ingredients we needed from what she had. But as she dug in her freezer to find yet another stick of homemade butter for one of our many dishes, I couldn´t help but wonder what she really thought of our feast. Of course, it-s a holiday, and I´m sure a similar spread is prepared around here for Christmas. But I also know that in general, Cynthia and her family eat what they have--when there´s less milk because one of the cows is pregnant, they don´t drink as much milk, butter becomes a luxury, and cheese is a special treat. They eat fresh fruits and vegetables when they´re ready for harvest in the gardens, and preserved or frozen for the rest of the year, until they run out. Living like that makes you appreciate the work it takes to produce the food you eat, and makes you savor the meals you cook even more. And that´s a good thing.

Farm School and Good Eats in Patagonia

Where to begin?? My apologies for the looong hiatus. I´ve been at Chacra Rincon del Sur, a gorgeous little family farm outside of El Bolson, in northern Patagonia, for almost two weeks (holy moly, it´s been two weeks!?!?). I´m living in a small, basic cabin with three other American girls (two of whom are from brooklyn, go figure). We live up the hill about 1/4 mile from the Aguilar family home. Cynthia Aguilar, the matriarch, is our "boss" and teacher. She´s like a farmier, friendlier, Argentine Martha Stewart, and she´s amazing. We work from 10-1 and then 4-7 each day, on her family farm and one morning a week at the local elementary school, where she runs a garden to provide vegetables for the kids´meals there.

Their farm is basically a family homestead. Cynthia and her husband, Ignacio, live there with Cynthia´s 15 year-old son, Fede(rico) and their 10 year-old daughter, Sol. They don´t sell anything commercially, though with a cash-strapped, rural population, bartering is very common, and they often trade their products and produce with neighbors. They have, i think, 24 hectares, which is about 80 acres of land, most of which is forested. They grow all their own produce in two gardens and a small greenhouse, and have sheep for wool and lambs´meat, two milking cows, a handful of laying hens, a handful of ducks, two geese (all for eggs), a pig, and four rabbits.

We start our days feeding animals, cleaning the stalls, and milking the cow. Then we help in the garden, weeding or transplanting seedlings, or help collect and burn wood (to prevent rats´nests in wood piles), or help with other small projects around the farm. When the weather is bad, and sometimes, even when it´s not, we get lessons in cheese-making, or butter-making, or bread-making, or empanada-making, or beer-making. This is my favorite part. Although we, as volunteers, do help out, Cynthia´s main goal is to teach what she knows to the volunteers that come to the farm. She is incredibly hospitable and affectionate, greeting us each day with a big hug, and treating us all like family from Day 1.

As far as cooking and eating well, I´ve struck gold at this place . In addition to our "classes" with Cynthia, my fellow volunteers are all great cooks and food lovers. With the exception of grains, beans, and spices, nearly all of our food comes from the farm and is included in our $5 a day charge. Ana, an American who is traveling with her boyfriend on a research trip for the goat farm-cheesemaking-brewpub they hope to open one day, is an excellent cook, and has been a great cooking teacher as well. Aily and Lucy, two Bard grads from Brooklyn, also love food, and are great cooks as well. I´m an excellent sous chef, culinary student, and appreciator of the delicious meals they create :).

We have somewhat limited resources, what with this being the beginning of the garden season (only chard, lettuce, onions, radishes and parsnips are fresh), but it´s amazing what "we´ve" come up with so far. Here´s a list (in no particular order) of some of our recent meals:

Spanish garlic soup, squash polenta gnocchi with morel cream sauce, squash apple soup, bulghar-lentil-chard pilaf, rice-chard pilaf (pictured below), lentil-potato-parsnip soup, rhubarb-cherry-apple crisp (I made that one!), Spanish flan, rice pudding, French toast (I made that, too!), potato pancakes. Every day, it´s something new, and with all the delicious, fresh dairy and eggs, I´m definitely going to be rolling off this farm when I leave here.

I will post more, soon, and new pictures are up in my Picasa album. Sorry there´s no captions yet. Until then, Chau, and Buen provecho!