self-portrait overlooking lago inferior Chile, Patagonia

got back last night from walking to / from chile for visa renewal.

some data:

• Location: Sendero a Los Hitos, Parque Nacional Lago Puelo, Patagonia, Argentina
• Time: 2 days, 1 night
• Total distance covered=33.4 km
• Creeks / rivers crossed: 24  (Rio Azul crossed by boat, all others on foot)
• Passport stamps: 4 (2 entry / 2 exit, Chile / Argentina)
• Continuous hours hiking: 8 first day, 9 the second

full notes forthcoming at the traveler’s notebook.

excerpt:

Km 4.8 – Gendarmería: Two large buildings, white with green roofs. Young Argentine soldiers + paisanos working on small dam on creek. “Que pasó?” I said, nodding towards the  water. “Se inundó,” said one of the soldiers. It flooded with all this rain. The young soldiers and paisanso all looked like Indians. I walked inside the main building. Crucifix on the wall. An older (late 50s) white officer began asking me questions. Am I just doing this to renew my visa? What’s my occupation? Do I have family here in Argentina? One of young Indian soldiers seemed to want to impress the officer and began questioning me aggressively also: How long am I planning to spend here? Felt like they were “against me.” Thought: “they’re of ‘limited intelligence.’” Wondered what role the white officer played in military during the dirty war.  Then I told them: “Che, I’m trying to process my residencia but you know como es–it’s taking them forever to send the paperwork.” This seemed to help. I thought how people are less alienated when you operate using same social / cultural cues. They don’t know about “being a writer.” But they know all about it taking forever for “them” (whoever them is) to send the fucking paperwork.