Finally the Dia de la Tradicion arrived in San Antonio de Areco. Twice postponed, once because on the original day the whole town and its surroundings, as well as access roads were all under water with a couple of bridges being washed out as well.
With hopes riding high for an improvement, the festival was re scheduled for the weekend of 22 November - a long weekend in Argentina - which usually involves a lot of fiesta-ing anyway. That was creating too much of a conflict, as well as the fair grounds not having dried enough for horse related competitions anyway.
The municipality of San Antonio re-scheduled the Grand Event for this weekend, by which time the heat wave had baked the mud being left behind from the floods had been baked into hard clay.
I took the 'micro', long distance bus, to San Antonio, a journey which brought home the extend of the flooding of a few weeks ago. Debris hanging from fence wires at six feet height, whole creek banks washed away, trees and brush torn away by raging waters and deposited in unusual places, sink holes....large areas of previously green fields and river banks had turned into mountains of baked mud.
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| Ponte Viejo - surrounded by mud banks.. |
San Antonio's Ponte Viejo, old bridge, was still disconnected from adjoining roads, as the flood waters had carved out a significant mud canyon where the road used to connect to the bridge.
Forecast...30 degrees heat until Friday, with Saturday and Sunday 'tormentas' (rain storms) on the horizon. The festivities on the campo, the large fields just outside town, started non-the less.
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The Park adjoining Areco River had dried out. Although the bridge leading to the 'campo', the Fiesta Grounds, was out, it was possible for pedestrians to clamber over dried out mud and an old concrete and iron weir to get to the other side. Horse used 'the highway bridge' sharing it with trucks, buses, motor cycles and cars.
Streets of Areco resounded with hoof beats, as gauchos brought their 'tropillas' to the fair grounds. All but the mare being led by the rider by a halter, were completely free, but followed the lead mare, madrina, with her bell without being distracted by anything. |
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| Hundreds of horses 'hanging out' |
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| La Doma, kind of bronc riding' started out the competition. The idea is, that a gaucho climbs onto one of these bucking horses, after it has been tied - blind folded - to a pole. Once the blindfold comes off, the horse knows the show has began, and bucks, rears, bunny hops and twists and turns to unseat the rider, who usually hits the ground pretty quick. The most skillful riders hang on, and are within seconds 'rescued' from their mount at full gallop by a couple of mounted helpers. |
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| On of the helpers delivering 'the leathers' |
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| Well, here the horse went one way, and the rider another |
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| Sometimes the horses get mixed up and start 'the wild' act, before they are even mounted or blind folded. |
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| And another down.... |
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| Accidents happen, this one ending without the unseated rider being kicked by flying hoofs. The horses are usually smart enough to get rid of their mounts without any harm being done to them.... |
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| The whip is not used to hit, but it involved a lot of waving around in the air, to show that the rider is up there only using one hand for the reins |
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| Once the blind fold - and the tie up - come off and the horse is free to start bucking and kicking, which sometimes makes for interesting escapes for the assistants. |
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| Their turn will come |
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| Ooops....and here comes the 'tormenta'....the skies darkened threateningly, and yellow clouds of dust swirled a couple of meters above the horizon and the trees. This fiesta may stop before it had time to really get into full swing. |
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| It's a family outing. If wife and children are not mounted on one of the gauchos horses, they turn up in trucks and bikes... |
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| Dust sweeping across the playing field.... |
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| Will the competition of tropillas take place? There must be a few dozen of these horse troupes, hailing from all around the surrounding pampa, waiting to all enter the playing field together and being kept under control by their gauchos - without halters to keep them close to him |
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| Short tails, and volumes of sheep skin and cloth for saddles.... |
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| Chat time.... |
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| Gaucho with his wife, son, dog and tropilla enjoying one of the gaucho 'vices' - smoking |
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| Most gauchos wear boinas, where gauchos develop their unique personal 'fashion statement' in their manner of wearing these caps. |
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| Hanging out at 'the bar' |
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| Rather flamboyant way of wearing a boina. |
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| Yes, this is how the bar scene looks like on the open campo... |
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| A blue eyed Criollo horse... |
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| Madrina and her bell |
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| A tropilla of paints, with the madrina being a bay, and the gaucho riding a palomino |
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| But.....the rain starts, it suddenly turns freezing cold, the wind blows through the tents which the gauchos have put up for accommodation and socializing. Out come the ponchos. I joined these guys for a few minutes, when the heavens opened up. |
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| Trees do not offer any protection when it really rains in the pampas |
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| A tropilla of greys leaving the grounds |
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| Tails tucked in and totally drenched, a tropilla of mixed colour crowds around their madrina, which is being held by her gaucho under a tree. |
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| Present time afford a gaucho more effective rain protection than the trusty poncho used to do. |
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The gaucho? Who knows where, his tropilla patiently waits with their madrina (the
only one tied to a fence post). The horses are used to these biblical down pours with incredible winds, as they spend their entire lives outdoors in all kinds of weather. |
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| Another drenched outfit leaving the grounds |
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| Some gauchos and their horses used the tiled patio of a hacienda to enjoy a minute break from the rain |
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| Heading back to town, now along streets that have again turned into canals of sticky mud |
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| Keeping to the grassy bits... |
At least the riders had the option of navigating the streets on horseback. When I back tracked my way back to town, all the 'gravel' and dirt roads, and packed dirt paths had turned into pure gumbo: deep, sticky and slippery. I crossed the river via the weir again (getting there was half the fun) but had to 'bum hop' along the railing, as walking in the mud was impossible: one step and several pounds of wet clay hung like a heavy sack from my shoes.
Needless to say, the rest of the Fiesta was flushed down the drain....No evening open fires in the campo, with asados (BBQ's) and music and 'bailecitos' - dancing. The asados, which have been sending out smoke columns and scent of slowly grilling meat over wood ashes, were extinguished within minutes. Where does the soaked meat finish up???
Somehow, horses and people disappeared into sheets of rain. The town (prepared and ready for the grand parade scheduled for Sunday) seemed deserted. But, where does a gaucho (and a few people 'in the know') go when things go south? The boliche, the local watering hole.
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| Boliche de Bessonart, when it is not raining.... |
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| Well, that's the idea of a boliche - watering hole... |
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| Watering holes need ttoilets. This one has a sign saying: the toilets get plugged if one throws paper into them. |
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| With typical Argentinian resourcefulness the problem is solved simply by not providing toilet paper. |
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| Drink of choice - apart from cerveza, red wine mixed with Coca Cola and a couple of ice cubes. Well, gauchos have eccentric taste. |
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| No fiesta, no parade, no BBQ, no street dancing, no horse competition......the only place in town with a sign of life. |
Sunday dawns to another rainy day. By now it would take another lengthy heat wave to dry the town out, albeit it is not flooded again. That would spell disaster for the little town.
Returned by bus a day early and watched rain soaked fields, highway shoulders washed away somewhat more than before, and ditches filled to overflowing. Storm drains - where there are any - plugged up with garbage and storm debris.
Well, there is always next year to finish off the festivities.....
