Sunday, 20 August 2017

Exploring South America 2017: Politics, Protests and the Right to (Respectfully) Express your Opinion

(During my year of travel through Asia in 2014 there was always a bit of down time to write a blog post and upload photos.  This time, though, it seems I was always too busy exploring South America or visiting with folks.  Not a bad thing, because it’s given me time to think about those experiences and search for the “same same different” between countries.  Instead of writing about each country I visited, I’m going to start with a number of ideas that flowed across borders.)

Given the current political events in America (riots in Charlottesville), I’ve been thinking of my experiences with how the countries I traveled through managed the complex issue of maintaining public security while allowing citizens the right to express an opinion. 

Knowing the history of dictatorships, repression and violence in many of the countries I was going to visit, I expected there to be a strong police presence and reluctance by citizens to speak openly (as I had experienced in Central Asia).  Instead, what I saw was a very visible police/military presence determined to keep the peace, to treat citizens respectfully and to give the message that their community was a good place to live and to visit.  In turn, citizens openly expressed their opinions about the government, or the economy or politics.  Protests happened regularly, but any of the ones I was involved with were peaceful.  Yes, there is serious violence happening in Venezuela, and none of the governments are perfect (there are clear distinctions between the advantaged upper class and the disadvantaged lower class), but it seems to me that protesters in first world countries could take some lessons from how conflict is respectfully dealt with in South America.

Brazil

I’ve written about my experiences with Carnival in Rio de Janiero.  Looking back, I think of walking to and from the Sambadrome in the dark, or exploring the favelas, or the classically insane crowd of the Copacabana bloco (200,000 drunken people partying on the beach). I personally did not ever feel unsafe – but I did the same kinds of things I would in any city in Canada. We heard of wallets or phones being stolen (when they were left available to be taken) but not of violence to people or property.
Grafitti near the Selaron steps in Rio de Janeiro. This is a tribute to a local community leader (so by the rules of graffiti should have been left alone).  When it was covered over, there were major vocal protests for days until the original work was replaced.  No injuries, no property damage.

Copacabana bloco street vendors.  "Please, take our photos" 
Rochina favela.  We were listening to the story of when a tourist was murdered a few years ago.  After being warned, as we were, to ask permission to take photos of people, he had from this location, taken photos of a drug deal going down.  He was seen and shots were fired. When it was discovered that it had been a stupid tourist, rather than undercover police, apologies were given and the man firing the shots was surrendered to the police. I was asking myself if an incident like this in Canada (or the US) would have escalated to all out war.
Argentina

I first met the concept of “the streets belong to the people” as we came into Buenos Aires and were caught in gridlock caused by the local truckers’ union protesting in the Plaza de Mayo.  It had been announced ahead and there was a police presence politely marking the boundary where it had been agreed that the protesters could block traffic.  Vehicles slowly made their way through, honking or waving in support.  As we passed in our bright orange truck, many of the protesters waved at us and took photos as we waved back.  At the agreed upon time, the union packed up their signs and left.  The message had been given to the government and there had been no violence. We learned later that blockading roads was something that happened everywhere on a regular basis to make a point about whatever was concerning a group – we made an early start out of Ushuaia to beat the planned border blockage that the local indigenous groups were having.

This concept came from the opposition to the military dictatorship from 1976 to 1983 in response to repression of the right to meet.  Following the return to elected government, it became a primary right to meet as a group, to say what you wished to say either verbally or in writing. There is tolerance of the protests and road blocks and work stoppages, even if there is a strong police and/or military presence.  Citizens accept/expect that there will be work stoppages as part of their strongly held belief that the streets belong to the people.
Las Islas Malvinas on the memorial in Buenos Aires

Buenos Aires.  This is what is left of the Israeli Embassy after a terrorist explosion in 1992.  The outline has been left as a reminder.  The present Embassy has rows of cement flower planters along the sidewalk to prevent suicide bombers from hitting the building.  The planters were placed and maintained by Argentina.


Children's playground where teens are encouraged to paint graffiti on the walls.  Note the stylized white scarves to symbolize the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo.

During our free walking tour in Buenos Aires, our guides had the freedom to discuss openly the political events of the day, including how Las Islas Malvinas (Falkland Islands to outsiders) has become such a unifying force. We were warned that there were protests about the UK (and to be respectful of this right) as the anniversary was remembered.  I also learned about the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo who continue to circle the plaza every Thursday to push for answers about “The Disappeared”.
 
In Ushuaia.  The full name of Tierra del Fuego province includes Las Islas Malvinas 


Gentleman on our boat tour in the Beagle Channel. "Casa de Veterano" with the outline of Las Islas Malvinas over the Argentinian flag.  These fleece jackets were worn by many Argentinians.  I never felt unwelcome or confronted with whether I was English.

Chili

In Santiago, the Free Walking Tour led us through the history of the atrocities of the Pinochet era and openly discussed the assassination of Salvador Allende in the presidential palace.  The Museum of Memory and Human Rights describes what happened between 1973 and 1990, and is a powerful statement of memory of the thousands of citizens who were murdered. Everywhere, I felt the same message as at Cambodia’s Choeung Ek (the Killing Fields) – let us tell our story so that others hear it and perhaps this will never need to be repeated.

Bolivia

Our visit to Bolivia was brief.  Police and military were in evidence to maintain the peace.  We were free to explore on our own and talk with local people.  While we were there, we heard about a roadblock by indigenous women of one of the main highways heading toward Peru.  They set up tables, lit fires, cooked meals and fed the community as a way of making a point to the government, very similarly to the groups in Argentina.  Again, there was no violence from either the protest group or the police who were ensuring order. 

Our guide, Duncan, indicated that he or other Dragoman groups had been involved with a number of roadblocks/protests in South America.  You would get the word through social media and if you couldn’t avoid it you needed to check out whether it was “safe” to carefully drive through the ditch and around or if the best choice was to respect the roadblock and wait.

Peru

As we traveled through Peru, there was also a heavy police/military presence.  In Cuzco and Huaraz, we watched military parades with hundreds of citizens watching.  To be honest, these parades felt more like our local summer parade with everybody in the community participating.  Children in special outfits/costumes/uniforms were helped by uniformed police to line up correctly and to wait their turn before marching past military officers.  They then wandered off to the local park for a picnic lunch.  At one parade (which I think was commemorating the education system), the children were followed by civilians carrying banners (who had obviously been in the youth groups because they still remembered the correct marching techniques).  The climax of the parade was the three levels of military each determined to impress the audience with their drill.  When the parade finished, they moved into the crowds to “mix and mingle”.  On a couple of occasions, I stopped to ask for directions and my point and smile Spanish was met with smiles and an honest attempt to give me an answer in English.
Huge morning parade in Cuzco on the main plaza.  School children.

I watched this happen with every group.  Police officer on the right made sure that the lead person was in the middle and waited until it was time.  The two officers on the left made sure that the next row were in the right spots.

From a distance, I took a photo of this row of police in riot gear on the plaza in Cuzco.  Official looking cars came regularly down the street.
Protests were more subtle than in Argentina or Bolivia. In Arequipa, we were privileged to take the Reality Tour which very clearly presented the lack of action on the government’s part to deal with poor working conditions, sexual abuse and violence directed particularly at women. This NGO has a Facebook page and provides these tours openly but otherwise operates by word of mouth to avoid direct confrontation with the government.  
Arequipa, the white city, is built with these blocks - white from the silicone that poisons the workers who quarry the stone by hand.  This is a day's work for the worker we talked to.  If they met the standard, he would be paid the equivalent of 2 dollars a day.  This gentleman had fled his mountain village thirty years ago because there was safety in Arequipa (military).  


This and other things had been carved by workers in the quarry to encourage outsiders to come to see their working conditions.

Guides and local people did not fear expressing opinions when asked questions.  As we were hiking the Wild Andes Trek, I asked one of our guides what the weather was like in the winter, thinking I’d get information about temperature and amount of snow.  Instead, I got a passionate description of the reality of winter in the highlands – not much snow, but a lot of rain at freezing temperatures which resulted in build-ups of ice so animals died from lack of food while the young children and seniors died of respiratory conditions brought on by lack of food and no ability to heat houses.  Her summary was that this happened every year, it wasn’t an occasional surprise, and that the government chose to do nothing.

Ecuador

I particularly enjoyed the way protests happen in Quito.  The first day I was there, I was taken aback by the police and military presence in the main plaza.  Dozens of riot police were lined up on one sidewalk, there were barricades blocking vehicles from entering and the side streets had police on horseback. Then I noticed that the riot police were relaxed and talking with each other and people were approaching the horses and asking to take photos.  Hmm, security for a government official, I was guessing.  A few days later, I noticed people setting up video cameras, and about half an hour later there was a group of protesters lined up with signs in front of the governor’s palace (with police politely marking the line they needed to stay behind so that pedestrians and vehicles could continue to pass through the square.  The cameras were recording the demonstration for the local TV, I assume.  
These ladies, in typical Quito indigenous dress, were heading across the plaza to be part of one of the protest groups (better social services for lower class communities).  I noted that none of them had the appearance of the local Quechua people.

Scenes from the Monday protest.  I was free to stand as close to the action as I wished.  To the left is the governor's palace, decorated with bunting, where government officials would witness the changing of the guard.  The protesters are lined up to the right.

Horses coming through.  Army (right) and police (foreground) helping get everything ready.  Also directing people away from getting hurt by the horses.  They actually brought an extra horse who stood by the corner so people could take photos.  Mind you, the horses were not as well drilled as the RCMP rides I've been privileged to see.:)



This crowd of army right in front of me were being deployed to move the crowd back a bit so the horses could get through.


On my last day in Quito, a Monday, I headed to the plaza to watch the changing of the guards.  In addition to the guards and horses dressed in their finest, there were three levels of police/military and four separate protest groups. There was no conflict, despite the huge crowds in the plaza that day. Civilians came up to the officers to ask questions, to ask if it was ok to cross through to get to the other side. Street merchants were making the most of the crowd.  The protests were varied, (plea that a general was innocent, indigenous rights, local community insisting on better social services, and a fourth that was an evangelical group) and they each politely took their turn to demonstrate.  So, in less than a week, there were three days of protests in the main plaza.

Columbia

Columbia is working hard to come out from under the shadow of the Cocaine Wars and welcome visitors and investment.  We arrived just as the government and FARC (the main rebel group) signed a cease fire and agreement that rebels would not be prosecuted as they had completed their demilitarization.  There was a huge security presence in the cities to ensure safety of citizens as well as visitors. 

  In Popayan (just over the border from Ecuador) I learned that one of the three branches of the national military is focused on tourism.  I walked carefully past two soldiers with guns at the door of the tourism office to find out about the free walking tour.  The soldier inside smiled and reassured me that I was in the right place, just early.  Walking out, I was confronted by the soldiers at the door.  They wanted, in their best English, to find out where I was from, was I enjoying Columbia, and could they be of help.  
Fruit tasting at Mercado Minorista in Medellin.  At the end, we discovered that we were indirectly part of a demonstration.  It seems that locals are reluctant to come to this incredible market because the area is unsafe.  When Medellin moved to clean up the downtown core, many of the homeless people relocated here.  One of the goals of Real City Tours is to give the message that if it is safe for tourists to come to the market, then it is safe for locals. Interesting, I felt very safe taking the Metro here and walking the nearby streets.  In the daylight.  Without flashing that I had a lot of money.

Another form of quiet protest.  Our guide is telling us the story of this badly damaged Botera statue and it's twin.  In 1995, terrorists (or organized crime...it was not a safe time) placed a backpack of explosives behind this statue during a music concert.  Dozens, many children, were killed.  The perpetrator was never found.  When the Mayor announced the cleanup of the plaza and to remove the statue, he received an angry phone call from Botera himself.  If this statue was removed so people would forget, he would personally make sure that every one of his artworks were removed from Medellin  (dozens of huge statues and an entire museum of his work).  He would, however, create an identical statue to be displayed along side the damaged one.  What I found interesting was that twenty two years later, there has been no vandalism or graffti on or near these two statues which sit in a plaza that our guide felt was unsafe for us to leave on our own as the night was approaching.



Signs in English outside a major museum in Cartagena letting us know that if we entered the museum we were contributing to the loss of jobs.  The museum was replacing human guides with audio guides.

The free walking tours in Popayan, Medellin and  Cartagena were open about the history as well as the current problems.  Yes, there were still rebel groups that hadn’t surrendered and there was still organized crime growing and selling cocaine – but that was all in the jungle where there were no roads to get into anyway. Columbia is working hard to convince their citizens that the country is safe.

“No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin or his background or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love. For love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.” - Nelson Mandela."

(Tweeted by former President Obama)


Tuesday, 11 April 2017

Exploring South America 2017: A bit of Brazil from Rio to Foz do Iguacu

It was almost a full day to travel from snowy Alberta to Brazil.  With a stop in Calgary (great experience with the new terminal and with American customs) and then in Houston for dinner, I arrived in the early morning to start exploring South America.

Looking at the map before leaving for Rio de Janeiro, I thought that it was a shame that we were only doing a tiny bit of Brazil.  Of course, once you are on the ground you are reminded how huge Brazil is (almost the size of the United States).  It’s 2500 km from Rio to Buenos Aires if you go the short way and we did a detour west into the Pantanal (almost to the border with Paraguay) so there were lots of long travel days in the three weeks.  Straddling the Equator, Brazil’s weather is hot and humid.  Arriving in late summer, the wet season was beginning – so hot and even more humid – and every sunny day was a blessing. 

My time in Brazil divides nicely between the week in Rio de Janiero for Carnival and then the adventures with Gus (the Dragoman truck) as we traveled toward the Argentine border for the next two weeks. We actually were doing a “mirror trip” with Gus’s sister truck, Amber all the way to Buenos Aires so we were often doing things together.

Coming into Rio, it was fascinating to look for the “same same different” between Brazil and other places I’ve visited.  The favelas climbing the hills with houses built of whatever was available and with creative wiring had a lot of similarity to the buildings in Asia – even built in similar manner with bricks and stucco. These were mixed, however with state of the art high rises and freeways with hundreds of vehicles.  I soon came to realize that Brazil can compete with first world countries for education, technology and income (at least for the privileged upper class). And for this small town girl, Rio de Janiero’s 13 million people were pretty overwhelming.

Brazil has an interesting mixture of races.  During the time of the initial settlement in the 1500s, the Catholic priests encouraged intermarriage between the whites and the local native population as well as with the black slaves (quite different than in North America).  The elite are as likely to have the appearance of blacks or aboriginals as dwellers of the favelas are to be fair and look like their Portuguese ancestors.  The word is that “all are equal”.  The concept of special treatment for aboriginal populations doesn’t exist because there is no distinct population.

Rio de Janiero for Carnival (22.56.13S  43.10.31W)

I’d done my research before leaving home so had booked a food tour as well as a city walking tour and had tentative arrangements to visit favela Rochina.  This gave me a chance to get my bearings, find the Metro, and practice my smile and point Portuguese. 
 
These interesting things open up to become a beautiful flower



Yup.  Higher end apartment with palm trees growing on the roof top.


Grafitti (street art) was everywhere

Building dressed up as a book shelf





Food tour Eat Rio.
We stopped in for "the Best Caparinas in Rio" about 10:00


Watched this being painted

Escadaria Selardon
Got to check out these cool steps not once but twice





As these became famous, people started sending ceramic tiles from home
.  Yup, Canada is well represented.






The story about this, is it was painted in early 2013
 (just before the artist committed suicide in a rather dramatic fashion)
and it is seen that he "predicted" the results of the semi finals against Germany.
 1 Sun (Brazil) and 7 Boats (Germany)



Jaca (jackfruit) similar to Durian

The peppers were so beautifully displayed.
The owner was delighted to pose for a photo 



Our guide explaining about cashews.  We ate the fruit.
The seed takes a  lot of preparation involving fire to
burn off the toxins related to cyanide.


Cocoa








Watching my personal key being cut at the base of the steps.
Watch for it on my weaving.

Rules about grafitti.
"Official" ones, like this one which is of a very important local, are not to be "tagged" or painted over.
Same thing in Buenos Aires.  Grafitti in South America is way more than kids defacing property.


Favelas - kinda like the Jellybean houses of Newfoundland





The home of the artist of the Selardon steps.
He doused himself with turpentine and set himself a light on the steps outside his home.
He had always said that the steps were his life work and would only end with his death.




Favela construction methods



Michael Jackson's "They don't really care about us" was filmed in this favela.
This wee one was having a great time cleaning the deck while his big brother(s) were playing soccer.



Two days later, Dragoman’s Carnival package started and my roomie for the week, Colby, arrived from the UK.  She’s this incredible bundle of energy that was determined to experience everything despite bringing a nasty cold with her from home.  We experienced the huge Copacabana bloco (200,000 partyers with nary an angry word or thought) then bumped into the local Flamengo bloco which was way more fun and intimate.  One night at the Sambadrome was sufficient for me – seats weren’t the best and I wish I had known more about the parades before going. Each samba school has their own followers (who learn the song a year in advance and sing it out at full volume) and the dancers, floats and drummers all have a structured meaning and purpose.  I also headed up to the Cristos monument by bus with a couple of fellow travelers and then had enough nerve to take the bus out to Parque Lago for the day (where I bumped into another medium sized bloco centered around to Botanical Gardens).

Me and Tom Jobin in Ipanema


The best corn ever on Copacabana as the bloco was wearing down

Leaders of the Flamenco bloco that we bumped into.


These guys were waiting at the bus stop (no doubt on the way to a bloco) and wanted to take a photo with me.
 Sadly my bus arrived, but they posed as I was on the step.


Entering the sambadrome, we got handed handfulls of female condoms



More grafitti in Favela Rochina



Copacabana beach




I was just standing quietly in the huge crowd and these vendors turned around and gestured that they wanted me to take their photo.  Still can't believe wall to wall people, gallons of alcohol and other substances and no pushing, shoving or violence.





Sambadrome.  Catherine from Manchester and my roomie Colbie
 Here's some of the sights from the Sambadrome.  I was taking photos at extreme zoom for my wee Canon, so please forgive the blur- which I like to think as part of the art.




























Flamengo Beach near our hotel.
The fellow had been tossing the ball into the water for the dog to chase.
  After a while, to dog got bored and let his person go get his own ball!!
 I remember this with our old dog Stout, too.



Parque Lage.  The local nick name means Christo's armpit cause that is where it is.











Yup, an 18th century British castle.  Created for the original owners.



And an aquarium











Our guide for Rochina favela.  His day job was as a DJ


"Only in Rio do the poor people get the best views
and the rich people live in the valleys"


This is one of the favelas that have been "taken over" by the police and are fairly safe.
This process was started less than ten years ago by the first female police chief.
New meaning to community policing.


Zezhina, the "owner" of the favela tour.  Part American.  Delightfully bizzare.



Our guide's wrist tatoo.  The Islamic writing refers to the power of music.





Coffee for the trip

Great time was had, but it was time to get out of the big city. In reality, we traveled along the main roads through an assortment of large towns and through farming areas.  Even our “bush camp” was at a local petrol station (with basic bathrooms and showers)because all the land is fenced and privately owned.

Paraty (23.12.26 S 44.43.4 W)

Dorms on the beach.  A great boat trip with stops to swim followed by the mother of all storms.  When it rains here, it is like the weather gods dump a huge bucket of water all at once.  Thankfully, my bag kept my camera and iphone dry – several members of our group were not so lucky.  I also found the Correios (Post office) and did a bit of retail therapy.












If you own your own island, why not build your own castle?






Back at our hostel with the rain still pouring down







I have a magnet hand painted by this street artist.





"going for a ride"


Interesting.  In front of the heritage church,
this fellow with chains in hand was talking to the crowds and inviting them to take pictures.
I think it was a discussion of the slave past.








The underside of the tile roof in an artist loft.  







Reward to those of us who were early to the bus on leaving day. I learned that leaving before daylight was pretty usual when sunrise happens about 8:00







Brotas (22.17.19S 48.38.5W)

First camping with Rhea (our tent) and Lorna (my tentie).  Rhea, like all the tents, is old and needed some repairs the first night so she could be set up.  Since then, we’ve scrounged enough tent pegs, made a few more repairs, and constantly praise and groom Rhea.  She shows her appreciation by being waterproof, warm on cold nights and snuggles willingly into her bag for her roof ride between campsites.

On route.  This crazy over the top petrol station






Moth posing for photo






Fazenda San Francisco in the Pantanal (20.5.11S 56.36.52W 130 meters)

North and west we traveled to explore the temperate rainforest of the Pantanal.  Fazendas were originally established to grow rice and cattle as well as sheep.  Of course, when you take off the original vegetation, you discover that the land is poor and you can’t grow as much as you thought you could. The heat makes cattle very difficult to raise.  Many of the fazendas discovered that ecotourism was a much better way to make a living.  I never got bored of the quantities of animals who didn’t seem afraid of us visitors.


Capybaras became almost common





Rhea.  Ranchers encourage them to hang around because they eat snakes.






We were told that deer were uncommon,
but we saw them every day we were out.


Jesus bird - because they seem to walk on water

I'm sure this was reminding me to wear insect repellent. :)


Burrowing owl just posing.



Not sure if this is cheating,
The top pole was actually a bird feeder and at different times of day,
 different flocks would show up.








The day before, this local guide was the driver and only spoke Portuguese to the "official" local guide.  This day, with no official guide, he was allowed to speak English and was a wealth of knowledge about the area, the animals, the fazenda.  Apparently, he taught himself English so he could understand the biologists and learn more about the area!!! His wife was the boat driver on our Piranha fishing trip and he came along to help her.


Mate cup and straw.  The rest of the decore would fit into any Alberta ranch.






Typical gaucho saddle

And working boots


Cows.  They imported Brahmas from India (white ones) because they can tolerate the heat and the poor feed.  Then "Montanya" were imported from the UK for better meat quality and interbred.  They all looked skin and bones and generally unhappy.








Heading out to fish for Piranha


And Caimen - Alligators









This piranha had been dead for about half an hour, but still reflexively bit the stem when put in his mouth.




And the other reason for fishing for piranhas is to put them on a long pole...

...as an offering to the eagles to come closer to the boat for photos,




Our last night, we had a traditional barbecue preceded by local dancing and music.  I smiled because anybody from home would have fit right in with the two step dancing, even if the words to the music were in Portuguese.  The traditional dress was blue jeans, boots and a wide brimmed hat.  What fascinated me, though, were the colourful sashes that were worn by the ladies that looked just like the Metis sashes from Canada. With my point and smile Portuguese, supplemented by the excellent English of one of the local guides, I learned that these sashes are woven of cotton thread (cotton is grown in Brazil) with traditional patterns and colours (so loom woven not finger woven) but that they also serve a useful purpose.  The gauchos wear them under the shirt to support the core while doing the heavy ranching chores (and they were traditionally made for them by their wives/mothers/sisters/girlfriends).  The ladies wear them for special occasions to show off their work.  They are called Paraguay straps and are now usually made by the local Guarani.  By luck, the artisan’s market at Foz had a lady who made them.

Our room name was "Guapo" which apparently means beautiful woman"

View from the loo.  Guys bathroom had a snake showing just before we left.

Bonito (21.7.22S 56.30.6W 400 meters elevation)

Hostel in a tourist town.  The day snorkelling down the Rio da Prata was great fun.  The waterproof case I put my camera in for the trip down the river was not as waterproof as I had thought.  My wee Canon that survived the dust storm in Dunhuang seems to have forgiven me for the dunking, but has become more temperamental.



Local church




Phone booths are called "Oie" which is slang for Hi.






Getting ready to snorkel the river



Trust me, we were having a good time





Retail therapy


And of course, in a tourist town you can find great food, and a wealth of retail therapy.  Amongst other things, I broke down and bought a pair of Havaianas at the last stop before the border.  And left my Aussie jandals behind.

Foz do Iguacu (25.36.17 S 54.31.29W 210 meters)

We stayed at a hostel on the Brazil side and visited both sides of the falls.  Most of us stayed in tents but for some reason I deserted Rhea and opted for an upgrade to a dorm room.  Sorry, Rhea, I promise to not do this again.
The border between Argentina and Brazil runs through the falls – each side maintains their own national park in unique and different ways and the name is also slightly different (Foz do Iguacu in Brazil and Cataratas del Iguazu in Argentina).  It took a bit of workaround to avoid the thousands of tourists, but the views were stellar.  Yup, three times the water flow of Niagra.  Also, this is the waterfall in The Mission.

Coati (Argentina) or Qatil (Brazil).  Cute.
Nasty little fellows that will attack you for food.











Just a reminder that things aren't always so peaceful.
Major war in the 1800's saw Paraguay lose this area.
This is a memorial to a local guard who lost his life in 1969 to "insurgents"


A bit of colour


And the monkeys were outside the cafe for photos (and treats) at noon


Evidence of how high the water comes in the right season










I stopped to talk to Erin and she pointed out the alligator she was watching.
I took this photo,  but I think this is a rock, not the alligator!















Flocks of butterflies


The lady who hand wove my Paraguay strap





A side trip on the Brazil side was to the bird park – actually a rescue sanctuary for a myriad of birds as well as some fish, a few anacondas, cool butterflies and even two Australian cassowaries.






Check this photo carefully.
There was actually a mirror at the back of the enclosure, so not nearly as many flamingos as you think,
The dot of blue in the back left is actually me taking a selfie :)




The best poor Canon could do with a cool black butterfly on a blowing leaf.





Anaconda




Two anacondas were wrapped around this pile of wood.
No fence between us and them.


The "guard"would occasionally spray them with water














I have no idea why there were two cassowaries here

Leaving Foz and entering Argentina (our first border crossing) showed Team Gus’ true style and you can read about it here.  Next stop Buenos Aires.