Nada sin alegria
Tuesday, December 30th, 2008“The amazing thing about all the people we’ve met,” Ann says, “is how passionate they are.”
From the sommelier to the gaucho, she and her little gang journeyed from the bottom of Patagonia to the top, along with their handsome guide (aka my media-naranja), who is also extremely passionate about this place, Patagonia. He took these folks where no tourists go, into the houses of his friends and into the real nooks where authentic patagonians hang out. He introduced them to toothless and barely literate campesinos, extreme-sports professionals, third-generation winemakers and the kind of brilliant artists so gifted they couldn’t fit in anywhere else.
She’s right. Them be passionate folks, Argentines.
Nada sin alegria, the saying here goes. Nothing without joy.
In a place with so many ups and downs (and downs and downs), it’s so incredibly important to smile. To put your best face forward. To open doors and break boundaries, to think for yourself and to think big.
This is a country where you can’t afford to sit back and let life happen to you. Your car’s broke so you fix it. You’re running out of cash, so you stop spending. You’ve got some extra moments, how about a swim and some mate with friends. Each instance of life has something that can be squeezed out of it.
Here, your future is definitely not laid out for you like the red carpet that spells out the obvious, given steps (school, college, marriage, house in suburbs, SUV, boring job, build your savings, spend useless hours on the couch….). Nobody follows the same steps; each person is unique and each life’s journey here is full of challenges, disappointments and a whole heck of a lot of passion. I’ve discovered that people with so little security are so much more likely to take risks. Security is overrated.
One is never bored in Patagonia. There’s always a fence to mend or a trail to hike. And thus the people here are so very far from boring. They laugh at the top of their lungs, they argue like cats and dogs, they speak loudly, hands wailing about.
They tear up, and they feel deep.
It’s incredibly fascinating, actually, and a wonderful place to be a writer. And it’s also a truly remarkable place to be a traveler (with the right guide, of course).
