Visiting McLeod Plantation: A Lesson on Slavery

The Big House at McLeod Plantation

Charleston is a beautiful place with great food and great art. But there's no doubt that the city will first and foremost be associated in my mind with our country's history of slavery. Our tour of the McLeod Plantation, led by the former director of the Old Slave Mart Museum, was beyond sobering. We later learned that tours at McLeod are told more from the slaves' perspective than at other plantations in the area. This makes particular sense because McLeod is an International Site of Conscience, a coalition of organizations committed to "Preserving Memory, Promoting Truth, Pursuing Justice." 

The McLeod Big House has an interesting history, having been occupied by Confederate forces during much of the Civil War and by Union forces after the War ended. The Union forces included two regiments of African American soldiers who served in the U.S. Colored Troops. Somewhat ironically, following the War's conclusion, the Big House served as the home of the Freedmen's Bureau for the James Island District of Charleston. The former slave quarters were used as homes for freedmen and their families.  

Each 300 square foot structure was home to between 8-20 people.  

The house was much more modest at the time. It wasn't until the 1920s that the Greek Revival style entrance with its inviting porch and stately columns was built. The modification was made in part so the house would look more like the romanticized image of a plantation home, making it easier for the McLeods to capitalize on plantation tourism. 

The changes also relate to the family's adherence to the Lost Cause narrative; i.e., that the Civil War was about states' rights rather than slavery. Conveniently, if you entered through this new and improved side of the home, you could avoid seeing those unsightly reminders of slavery like the slave quarters and the former cotton gin house. The family also planted trees on the grounds behind the house to further shield their view. For more on this aspect of the McLeod Plantation, click here. 

Interior of a "dependency," as many still call the slave quarters

We learned some details about the lives of two of the dozens of slaves who lived and worked at McLeod Plantation. The first was Isabelle Pinckney. Isabelle was given by the Pinckneys to the McLeods to serve first as a wet nurse and then a nanny to their daughter Annie. The fact that she was mulatto was a factor in her selection for this role. The lighter the skin, the more acceptable it was for you to interact with the family and guests. 

You might have noticed that Isabelle's last name was the same as that of her enslavers. This was common practice by plantation owners as both a means of noting their ownership of the individual and erasing his or her past identity and origin.

Isabelle lived in the attic of the Big House so she could be close to her ward. It is believed that she was sexually assaulted there by one of the McLeods. None of her people would have been around to help or even hear her if she cried out. Her son Daniel was born at McLeod and was able to "pass" for Caucasian. 

Brick in outbuilding with fingerprint of child estimated to be 6-10
 years old. Charleston was also home to brickmaking plantations. 

Then there's the story of Leah, the youngest of the enslaved people at McLeod. Leah was marched with her parents more than 50 miles to Charleston from their former home. For the journey, her father's wrist or leg would have been shackled with chains to another man's appendage while Leah and her mom would have been similarly manacled to another female with a rope. Once in Charleston, they were sold to separate purchasers at Ryan's Slavemart. (Note: It is believed that her family was reunited after the end of the war.)

Leah was bought by the McLeods to serve as a companion for their children. She would have slept on the floor of their bedroom or in the attic with Isabelle. Without Isabelle, her isolation would have been complete. 

Ginning mill in Charleston

We also learned about the daily lives of the slaves at McLeod who didn't serve the family directly. The McLeods made their money growing Sea Island cotton. Planting, tending to and harvesting the crop was grueling work. Then the cotton had to be "ginned" before it could be sold. (This is when you separate the cotton fibers from the seeds, stems, etc.) The ginning process for converting raw cotton into Sea Island cotton was more labor intensive than ginning it into upland cotton. The end result was cotton with a silkier feel that could be sold for four times the price of upland cotton. With a ready source of labor, the choice was an easy one for the McLeods.

The men, women and children enslaved by the McLeods would have worked from "can't see until can't see" in the fields; i.e., from before dawn until after dusk. Every worker was expected to pick 100 pounds of cotton each day. The crop required tending almost year-round. Even during rainy season the slaves would be out in the fields making sure the cotton didn't wash away. As our guide told us, they "ate, drank, gave birth and died in the fields." 

It is estimated that there were close to 4 million enslaved people in the United States in 1860, almost ten percent of the population. I left the McLeod Plantation with a clearer picture of the lives of those poor souls. Hearing these stories where they took place was much more impactful than reading about them in a book or watching them on a screen. It wasn't a happy outing, but I'm glad we made learning more about this part of our country's history a part of our trip. 

Touring Charleston by Carriage

I know, I know -- it sounds very touristy to do a tour of Charleston on a horsedrawn carriage. And it was. But there's a reason these tours have become a tradition for people visiting the city. It's a fun (if a bit malodorous) way to learn a bit about the city's history. And so Andrea and I started our girlfriend getaway with a tour given by the Old South Carriage Company. Here are some tidbits I learned along the way.

--While the horses aren't "unionized" (as our guide told us), they are treated well. They are fed 40,000 calories of hay and whatever else horses eat (carrots?) a day. They are given plenty of water and -- here's a surprise -- two pints of Guinness. (The Guinness helps the animals sweat, which cools their bodies down.) They get at least 180 days/year off and spend their free time on a 65 acre farm where they have regularly scheduled dental appointments and massages. Sure, the horses are still working, but it's an easier life than their daily routines were on the Amish farms where they previously lived. 

--Given the number of carriage companies in Charleston, you might think pedestrians crossing the street would have to watch carefully where they step. But the City has thought about that issue; hence, the Equine Sanitation Department. Carriage drivers send a text with a GPS marker of each spot where the horse has done its business. Then Doody Calls, the city's contractor, comes out and collects the waste and/or hoses down the area. This was a great technological advancement over the previous system of dropping half a rubber ball with a little flag poking out and calling in the location to the lucky folks responsible for clean-up. 

Old Slave Mart Museum 

--Remnants of slavery are ever present in Charleston. Take, for instance, the Old Slave Mart Museum. The building was formerly the home of a slave auction site. It was part of a complex that included a barracoon (an enclosure in which slaves could be held), a slave jail proper, a kitchen and a "dead house" where bodies were stored. It is estimated that more than 10,000 slaves were auctioned off as chattel at this site. While this is a mindboggling number, it's no surprise given that 40% of all enslaved Africans arrived through the port on Charleston Harbor. The International African American Museum is located at the site of the former arrival point. 

Slave badge

--Slavery in Charleston was task-based. Under this "progressive" form of slavery, slaves were given a list of tasks each day that they were required to complete. Once those jobs were done, slaves not deemed a flight risk were allowed to spend time with friends and family or to go to the market to purchase goods or sell items they had made. It appears that the enslaved were typically allowed to keep the money they earned in this manner. 

--Many slaveowners hired out their slaves to other plantation and business owners. Each worker was required by the City of Charleston to wear a badge specifying that the individual lived in Charleston, his or her occupation, the badge number and the year issued (with annual renewals required). This practice was not only an identifier; it was also a revenue source for the city. And if a slave fled, the information on the badge was included in ads seeking his or her return. For more information on this practice, click here. 

Church and Union 

--The term "hushpuppy" has several possible origin stories, but they all refer to cornbread circles carried in pockets to be fed to dogs as a means of distraction. In our guide's version, slaves fed the food to dogs so they wouldn't jump on them and muddy their clothing. Other stories refer to runaway slaves feeding the treat to dogs so they wouldn't bark and give away their location. Ditto for Confederate soldiers hiding from nearby Union soldiers. "Hush, puppies," you can imagine them saying. 

--Charleston is known as the Holy City because it boasts 187 churches of various denominations. (This number includes one synogogue and a Hindu temple.) It seems a bit ironic for the city to have been known as a beacon of religious tolerance while simultaneously enslaving people, but the world was and continues to be a complicated place. Surprisingly (not), Andrea and I didn't grace the interior of any churches in use as such, but we did dine at Church and Union. It was delicious if a bit rushed. (Seriously, our food was out approximately three minutes after we ordered it.) 

The interior of the restaurant is very cool, with all 12,035 words of "The Art of War" written across its vaulted ceiling by artist Jon Norris. Much of the text is difficult to read due to its placement, but the phrase "There Is Only We" is fairly prominent. I take it as a message of hope. 

Our carriage tour was a great way to get an overview of Charleston's history. As a bonus, you pick up the carriages right by Charleston City Market, a four block long covered market with all kinds of goodies to take home as souvenirs. For the record, neither of us brought home a basket, but we did our bit to help the local economy.  

Next up: Our visit to McLeod Plantation 

It's a Wrap: Touring Buenos Aires

Soccer mural in the La Boca neighborhood of Buenos Aires

Excitement was in the air on our flight from Santiago to Buenos Aires. We were off to meet the rest of our group and start the official part of the "Patagonia, Tierra del Fuego and the Chilean Fjords" trip. (Easter Island was a pre-trip add-on.)  But I'm not talking about our excitement. The flight was filled with soccer fans heading to the finals of the 2024 Copa Libertadores, the premier South American club soccer tournament. 

The match was between two Brazilian soccer teams -- Atletico Minerio and Botafogo, with the former having a big fan base on our flight. As the plane landed, cries of "Galo" broke out. Their enthusiasm was infectious, so I joined in despite the fact that I had no idea what the word meant or why they were yelling it. It turns out that they were supporters of Atletico, whose mascot is a rooster. "Galo" means rooster in Spanish, so there you have it. I know this might seem all a bit random (what's new?), but it set an enthusiastic mood for the rest of our adventure. Sadly, Atletica lost the final match. 

While being with these soccer fans was a fun intro to Buenos Aires, it is the story of Eva Peron (Evita) that will stay with me. We learned about Evita's life -- and death -- on our second stop in the capital city at the end of our trip. Evita's body is entombed in her family's mausoleum at the Recoleta Cemetery. Although she has been dead for more than 70 years, people still leave flowers at her grave daily. Perhaps that shouldn't be a surprise given that Argentina ran out of flowers during the period immediately following her death. I'm talking no flowers for sale in the entire country. Wow. People today still use Evita as a benchmark against which behavior should be measured. Apparently the words "If Eva were alive, she'd [insert appropriate action]" are still frequently heard. It's hard to be held to the standards of an idol. 

Many of us had seen the musical "Evita" and knew the broad outline of her life story. She grew up poor. She became an actress. She met Juan Peron when working at a disaster relief benefit following an earthquake. Despite a 24 year age difference, they fell in love and married. Three years later, Peron became President and Eva the most popular first lady of all time.

Eva was an activist during her tenure as first lady. She is given significant credit for Argentine women obtaining the right to vote in 1947. She founded the Peron Female Party two years later in hopes of getting women more politically engaged. She also founded the Eva Peron Foundation, an organization whose mission was to help the impoverished of the country. Its initiatives ranged from providing scholarships to gifted children to donating sewing machines to women to building schools and houses. At one point the Foundation employed more than 1400 workers. She was a true powerhouse.

While this is all interesting, it doesn't compare to what happened to Evita's body after she succumbed to cervical cancer at the age of 33. More than three years after her death, the embalming process had not yet been completed. It had to be perfect. This delay meant that Evita's body had not yet been buried when Peron was overthrown by General Pedro Aramburu. So deep was Aramburu and his followers' hatred of Peron that uttering the mere names "Peron" or "Evita" was forbidden. Fearing that Peron supporters would whisk Evita's body away to protect it, Aramburu's henchmen kidnapped the corpse. It would be more than 20 years before her remains were buried in their final resting place. 

Evita mural in Buenos Aires 

Originally, Aramburu had talked of burning Evita's body to ensure it could never be returned. But Aramburu's commanders were Catholic and, despite their deep rancor against the Perons, believed Evita deserved a proper burial at some point in the future. But that was complicated. What to do with her body until then? At first, her corpse was housed in a van and moved around the city. But once word got out -- as it inevitably did -- where Evita's body could likely be found, candles and flowers would promptly appear, angering the regime even more. Eventually, the body was entrusted to Eduardo Aroncibia, one of the original kidnappers, to hide. He agreed to never tell anyone the whereabouts of Evita's corpse. 

That left Aroncibia with the dilemma of finding a safe place to store the body and keep an eye on it. He decided to put the former First Lady's corpse in his attic. He couldn't tell his pregnant wife what was happening for fear of her telling others. Instead, he ordered her to never enter the space. Of course this made her curious about what the big secret was. One night when Aroncibia was out, she climbed the steps to the attic to check it out. Aroncibia came home and, thinking either a Peronista or a regular old intruder was in the house, shot and killed her. Yikes. 

The "Pink House" is similar to the US Capitol. 
Evita gave her famous address from this balcony.

The story gets even weirder from there, with allegations of at least one "gentleman" who had custody of the body committing if not necrophilia, other sexual actvities in the vicinity of her body. It wasn't until after Juan Peron's death -- 20+ years after Evita lost her battle with cancer -- that her body received a proper burial in Buenos Aires. To read fuller accounts of the journey Evita's body took before finding its final resting place, click here and here. 

And with that, I've reached the end of my final post covering the highlights of this wonderful adventure. It's a good thing, too, because Sarasota's arts season is about to officially get underway. It's going to be busy! Happy and healthy 2025 to all!  

Visiting the End of the World

 

Situated at the southernmost tip of Argentina, Ushuaia is commonly referred to as the end of the world. (Cue REM, but I'm digressing already.) It's also the capital of Tierra del Fuego, or "The Land of Fire." The archipelago was originally given the name "The Land of Smoke" by Magellan due to the many fires built by indigenous people that he saw along the coast. (Smoke was used by the Fuegians as a means of communication.) Charles I of Spain altered the name to be a bit more dramatic. Like Patagonia, the region is somewhat confusingly located in both Chile and Argentina. 

I'll start with a bit of Tierra del Fuegian history before focusing on Ushuaia. From 1831 to 1836, none other than Charles Darwin was the naturalist on board the HMS Beagle, captained by Robert FitzRoy. When Darwin joined the team, three young native Fuegians were also on board. FitzRoy had kidnapped them in retribution for the theft of a ship from his fleet. 

The hostages had been given English language names, but not of the type you'd hear on the streets of London. El'leparu became York Minster after a rock formation near where he was "found" that reminded the crew of a cathedral of the same name. Yokcushlu was dubbed Fuegia Basket as a nod to the seaworthy basket the crew of the stolen ship made to paddle to their new home on the Beagle. And Jemmy Button (given name Orundellico) was called this because his "purchase price" was a mother-of-pearl button. A fourth captive known as Boat Memory (original name unknown) had died of smallpox contracted during the Fuegian's time in England. His moniker had served as a reminder of the vessel that had been lost. I know this is a lot of detail but it just seems so, well, wrong to force odd new names upon these victims. Insult to injury and all that. FitzRoy's original plan had been to take the captives to England, teach them English and educate them so they could go back to Tierra del Fuego and convert the locals to Christianity. It didn't work out quite this way. For more of this story, click here. 

My etching by Daniela Fuchslocher
of man in Selk-nam tribe participating in Hain

One of the reasons I was excited about visiting Tierra del Fuego was the pictures I'd seen of men wearing elaborate body paint. I had no idea what prompted this practice, only that I found the images captivating. Hence, my only souvenir - this small etching of a man from the Selk-nam tribe.

It turns out that body painting was most typically worn in connection with the Hain, a coming of age ceremony for young men in the Selk-nam, Yahgan and Haush tribes. The boys would be invited to spend the night in a hut in the wilderness. In the dark of night, "spirits" would attack the boys and scare them half to death. Of course in actuality the spirits were men from the tribe who had painted themselves in elaborate "costumes." At a later initiation ceremony, it would be revealed that the spirits were just fellow tribesmen in disguise and then the story of how the world came into existence would be shared. I don't quite understand what the relationship was between the spirits and the creation story, but that's how it apparently went. Occasionally it was women rather than men who dressed up as spirits and participated in the Hain. Afterwards, they would often laugh at the gullibility of the boys. When this happened, they were killed. I'm just reporting here.  

Ushuaia Prison mural

As we walked the streets of Ushuaia today, art abounded in the form of murals. This mural commemorates the prison that was integral to the development of the city. It took nearly 20 years to construct the prison, which opened in 1920. The labor was done by Argentine prisoners who volunteered for the job in exchange for reduced sentences. Once the prison opened, the 380 cell facility became home to more than 500 prisoners on whom the city became reliant for providing services from construction to baking to tailoring. The facility was closed in 1947 due to concerns about overcrowding. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to visit the Museum of the Prison of Ushuaia. Next time!   

Rosemarie and Libbie with some new friends

This has all been a bit dark, so I'll close with a fun mural featuring some penguins, Libbie and our new friend Rosemarie. Martillo Island (aka "The Penguin Colony") is located 90 km from Ushuaia and hosts Magellanic penguins, Gentoo penguins and, on occasion, King penguins. Tours of the island -- during which you get to walk among the animals -- are limited to a handful of people at a time and are booked up many months in advance. Now that would be fun. Another outing for my next visit to the end of the world. 

Next up -- My final post from the trip -- Buenos Aires! 

 

Discovering the Chilean Fjords Aboard Stella Australis

Onboard a zodiac for a hiking adventure

To say that I have had zero interest in going on a cruise would be an overstatement. I still flash back to feeling trapped on a mere three hour booze cruise back in law school. The thought of multiplying that experience by both time and people makes me shudder. So it was with some apprehension that I boarded Stella Australis, an expedition ship that would be taking us south down the Chilean fjords to Cape Horn and back north to Ushuaia. The adventures we had while based on the ship were some of my favorite of our trip. 

By their nature, expedition ships are intimate. The focus of these journeys is to explore areas difficult to reach by other modes of transportation. And so these ships can accommodate only the number of people that can be loaded on zodiac boats for an outing. While the Stella Australis can hold 200 passengers, there were only 90 or so on our sailing. 

In addition to my concern about cruises in general, I had been apprehensive about the weather. Patagonia is known for its high winds and healthy amounts of rain. We had been warned that we could face double digit high seas during our journey, the impact of which would be multiplied by being in a small vessel. Visions of projectile vomiting abounded. Ginger candies were eaten and scopalomine patches applied in hopes of assuaging seasickness. On the cruise preceding ours, some of the outings had to be canceled due to the conditions. The passengers had been stuck onboard with a bucket for a companion. Somewhat miraculously, we had sunny days and virtually no wind during our time at sea. 

Trip leader Marcela at Marinelli Glacier

So what did we experience on our outings? Nature at its finest! The zodiac rides themselves were an adventure as we bounced towards our destinations. Just getting in required some coaching. You take three steps onto the boat (cha-cha-cha, as they say), then sit down and slide along the side until you are cozied up to the person ahead of you. It sounds simple -- and it is so long as you overcome your instinct to stand upright as you move to your seat. If you do, you run the risk of toppling over into the icy waters. I am happy to report that I and all of my fellow passengers stayed dry. 

This shot shows our trip leader Marcela giving a thumbs up to the beautiful weather that allowed terrific views of Marinelli Glacier. (Oh, another glacier -- yawn!) Here we hiked on the glacial moraine created from sediment left by the glacier during its retreat. At a loss of several hundred meters per year, Marinelli Glacier is one of the most rapidly retreating glaciers in South America. Again, we watched and listened as one area of the glacier repeatedly calved. It was both literally and figuratively a cool experience.  

We had the choice between hiking the moraine or a Magellanic forest. I chose the moraine, which required a bit of scrambling. I'm talking literally being bent over grasping rocks at some points to make my way up. Not so good for the manicure, but it was great fun. In some steeper portions of the trail, Overseas Adventure Travel had installed ropes we used to pull ourselves forward. I decided there was no need to be proud.

On another of our expeditions, we saw Magellanic penguins. Needless to say, they were adorable as they waddled around oblivious to the photos being taken of them. But there are reasons to like Magellanic penguins in addition to their cuteness. These animals share parental responsibilities in a much more equal way than, say, the typical human couple. The parents-to-be take turns incubating the eggs and foraging for food. Fun fact: The mother penguin always lays two eggs, typically four days apart. Less fun fact: The first egg is often rejected as incubation progresses in favor of the second, larger egg. One article likened the first egg to an insurance policy. Nature can be harsh.

Magellanic penguins at Tuckers Islets

And now a word about designating the forest and the penguins and other things "Magellanic." Ferdinand Magellan is credited as the first European to circumnavigate the globe. This is despite the fact that he was killed about halfway through the journey after a Phillipine local shot him with a poisoned arrow. He gets credit due to his planning of the voyage and his leadership during the beginning of the journey. He was at the helm when the Strait of Magellan, the only inland passageway between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans prior to the construction of the Panama Canal, was "discovered." It was a much safer -- and more pleasant -- trading route than the Drake Passage with its high seas and icebergs. Moving on...

At the Cape Horn Monument

Our outings from the ship also included a stop at Cape Horn. This is notable because the only way to get there is by expedition vessel, cruise ship or helicopter. Lucky us! 

Cape Horn is known as the "sailors' grave" because more than 10,000 seamen perished there trying to "round the Horn." It is the start of the Drake Passage, the famously turbulent waters where the Pacific, Atlantic and Indian Oceans converge. Drake Passage must be crossed if you are sailing to Antarctica. I don't think I'm quite ready to take a voyage that's known as the world's most terrifying ocean passage. But I (kind of) digress.

We all climbed the 160 steps from the landing site to the Cape Horn Monument, a sculpture of an albatross by Jose Balcells Eyquem. (The albatross' wings are spread vertically if you, like me, have a bit of trouble seeing the bird.) The sculpture can withstand winds of up to 125 mph. 

The Stella Australis

Why an albatross, you might ask. An albatross can be either good or bad luck for sailors. Albatrosses can literally fly for years without landing thanks to their ability to glide over the ocean without flapping their wings. A young albatross often spends the first six years of its life flying before settling down for an extremely short courtship, mating and taking off again. A sailor who spots an albatross soaring through the sky considers it a lucky omen given the typical longevity of the bird's journeys. A sailor who sees a dead albatross fears for his crew's safety. And if you're the one who killed it, intentionally or not, well... Hence Coleridge's "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner."  

And with that, we were back down the 160 steps to our zodiac where we enjoyed a calm ride back to the Stella Australis. We had a wonderful time at sea. 

I promise we're nearing the end of the journey. Thanks for sticking with me. Still to come: Ushuaia and Buenos Aires. 

. 

 

A Slice of Life in Patagonia

Enjoying some mate - so was he!

Our Patagonian adventure featured more than scenic vistas. We also had the chance to partake in some of the everyday experiences of people living in the region. Sometimes it's the little things that stay with you after a trip.  

It's hard to believe, but this first picture was not a set-up. One of the traditions in Patagonia is drinking mate (pronounced maa-tay, not mate). It's a type of tea that, having tried some, is definitely an acquired taste. But the Patagonians get plenty of practice. They begin drinking a version with milk at two years old. It's akin to drinking wine in Italy, with one big difference - mate is traditionally served in a gourd-shaped cup that people drink from using the same straw. (We each had our own cup and straw when we tried it.) 

There's a ritual to drinking mate. First, coarsely chopped tea leaves and stems are put into the gourd. Then water is added to brew the tea. Watching our guide and driver, having a thermos of water at the ready seems to be the way to go. The tea leaves are so flavorful they can be used for multiple cups -- up to 15 or 20 according to Google. There's also a particular type of straw for drinking mate that's called a bombina. It's steel with a fine filter on the end so you don't end up swallowing the herbs. While the practice of sharing a single bombina might sound, well, foreign to Americans, it's a sign of community and respect in Patagonian culture. If only mate tasted better...

With Blinkita

You probably won't be surprised to learn that horses are a part of Patagonian life. Libbie and I went to a rodeo during our free time in Puerto Natales and saw some bucking broncos run through their (and the riders') paces. We later learned from our trip leader that the term "gaucho" means an illegitimate son of a Spaniard and an indigenous woman. Who knew? 

We had a chance to ride our own horses during our time there at Pingo Salvaje Ranch. Despite coming from a family of ranchers and cowboys (really!), I can count the number of times I've been on a horse on one hand. And so it was with some apprehension that I mounted Blinkita for our group ride. 

After expressing some apprehension about our upcoming ride, a fellow traveler suggested stroking my horse's nose and talking to her before we headed out to create a rapport. I did as told, murmuring to her quietly while noting how my hands were beginning to smell like horse. It's not the most pleasant aroma to my citified nose. I'm also not sure my ministrations established the bond I was hoping to achieve. Anyway...

Marcelo with sheepherder
at Pingo Salvaje Ranch

Eventually our group of 20 strong headed out, nose to tail. We'd been given a number of instructions that included not letting the horses eat grass, which of course was the first thing they wanted to do. A firm tug on the reins to show them who was in charge took care of that issue. We had not, however, been warned about the proclivity of some of the horses to lie down while out on a ride. As Blinkita and I were santering along, I noticed that a woman three horses ahead was on the ground rolling away from her prone horse. What???!!! She was laughing, so I knew she hadn't been hurt. But still! Later we learned that three of the horses had laid down during the ride. Everyone -- especially the people from the stable -- took it in stride. I guess Patagonia is not as litigious as the United States. 

While there, we also had the chance to see some dogs herding a dozen sheep into their pen. It was pretty cool. Apparently three or four dogs can herd hundreds of sheep when the job requires. All in a day's work. 

Shrine to Antonio - note the beer cans! 

As I mentioned in a prior post, we spent a good amount of time in our bus. The hours passed quickly with one or another of the guides giving us information about what we would be seeing or a bit of history or the like. But the legend of Antonio required a roadside stop -- and a can of beer. 

Antonio (also known as "Gauchito Gil") was a gaucho called into service to fight in one of Argentina's civil wars. Not wanting to kill his countrymen, he deserted. Antonio was captured by some soldiers when he was no more than five miles out of town, and they decided to execute him. 

Before he was killed, Antonio told the head soldier that his son was seriously ill and would die unless he prayed to Gauchito Gil to save him. Right. Not surprisingly, this didn't alter the soldiers' plans. They killed Antonio/Gauchito Gil and then unceremoniously dumped his body. When the solder got home, his son was on the brink of death. The soldier prayed to Gauchito as he traveled back to the place where they'd left his body. Upon his arrival, he begged for Gauchito's forgiveness and buried his body. The boy survived. So did the story of Antonio/Gauchito. 

Today, there are numerous roadside shrines to Antonio on Patagonian roadways to protect travelers from harm. The shrines are always red as a nod to the blood shed by the mythic figure. Often people pour some form of alcohol at the foot of the shrine in Antonio's honor. And so our group of travelers did just that, passing a can of beer from person to person until it was empty. Our trip passed safely, so perhaps Antonio was looking out for us. 

Next up: Our time on the expedition ship Stella Australis. Spoiler: It was amazing! 

Torres del Paine and Petito Moreno Glacier

Libbie capturing the beauty of
Torres del Paine National Park

I've neglected to mention that our adventure to Chile and Argentina was titled "The Wilderness Beyond: Patagonia, Tierra del Fuego and the Chilean Fjords." (Easter Island was a wonderful add-on.) An outdoorsy trip might not sound like something that would call my name, but life is full of surprises. 

The word "Patagonia" has two origin stories. It roughly translates into "big feet." Hmm. Back in the day before hiking footwear and snow shoes, people indigenous to the area still had to get around. They made snowshoes of sorts using the skins of native guanaco, an animal in the llama family. And so their footprints were quite large. That's explanation number one. A lesser known derivation of the word is attributed to Magellan, who explored the area in the early 16th century. There was apparently a character in a popular Spanish novel at the time named "Patagon." Patagon was a giant, and the Tehuelches natives were very tall -- often 6'+ - and muscular, a striking difference from the average 5'2 Spaniard at the time. I like both versions. 

The Towers in Torres del Paine National Park 

I love this picture of of Libbie getting a shot of the Paine Massif in Torres del Paine National Park with her feet set against the wind. More on that below. On the off chance you don't know, (i) a "massif" is a compact mass or a large mountain mass that forms part of a mountain range and (ii) "Paine" is pronounced "PIE-nay." Paine Massif is part of the Andes Mountains chain. 

The Park spans more than 700 miles and is stunning. You might think a long (10 hour!) bus ride would be tedious, but with these vistas accompanying us, the time flew by. (FYI, we covered approximately 4,000 miles on the base trip, with another 4,600 for the Santiago/Easter Island add-on. Only 500 miles was by bus. Amazingly, every flight ran on time.) 

The second picture is of the "Towers," one of the trademark features of the Park. Each granite peak rises 8,000+ feet. While it's possible to hike to the Towers, the only way to get to their apex is to engage in a bit of rock climbing. I was more than content to view them from afar. 

It turns out that being able to see the Towers is a feat in and of itself. On our trip leader's previous four outings, the Towers were totally hidden. "Just trust me," I can imagine her saying. "It's really a remarkable sight."  The weather gods favored us throughout our entire journey. 

Perito Marino Glacier - note the scale!

We were able to get a closer vantage point to Perito Marino Glacier in Los Glaciares National Park. On my trip to Iceland, we saw glaciers, and I even hiked on one. But Perito Marino is a glacier with a capital "G." It spans 100 square miles and its walls rise 180 feet (with the underwater portion being twice that distance). It is the largest ice-mass in the Southern Hemisphere other than Antarctica. The Park itself is more than 1,700 square miles and features nearly 50 glaciers, with Perito Marino being the most prominent.

The glacier has been conveniently equipped with close to three miles of wooden walkways that allow visitors to enjoy various vistas. There are paths for every fitness level, and even an elevator for people who can't climb stairs. It's worth noting that there are ways to get even closer to the glacier, including by kayak. Next time! 

The walkways feature some sheltered areas similar to a bus stop where you can take refuge from the wind. This was our only day that featured some of the famous Patagonian breezes. They can be extreme -- 50+ mph! -- and our trip leader Marcela superstitiously suggested we refer to the prospect as "W" instead of saying the word. We got our most significant gusts of the trip here. In fact, on a couple of occasions, my phone nearly blew out of my hand. Losing or breaking not only my means of communication but my camera would have been a true tragedy. 

We experienced multiple "calving" events during our time at the glacier, particularly in the area shown in this image. First you would hear a loud sound similar to a gunshot. Then you would see a chunk of ice break away, sometimes from the glacier proper and sometimes from an ice floe. It was pretty dramatic despite the fact that calving occurs every 30 minutes or so. I loved being there. For another visitor's thoughts on Perito Moreno Glacier, click here.

When we arrived in Patagonia, our trip leader had said it was time to get the "wow-meter" out. Mine was still at the ready after our stay on Easter Island, and it got plenty of use during the remainder of our journey. Next up, some miscellaneous stories and experiences from our time in Patagonia. 

The Disappeared of Argentina

Manuel San Laurent and Marcela Colombini

Learning about history from locals is one of the trademarks of an Overseas Adventure Travel trip. During our time in Buenos Aires, Manuel San Lorent spoke with us about the “disappeared.”  His talk was not from the perspective of a historian, but of a son. When Manuel was just two weeks old, his mother was kidnapped by Jorge Rafael Videla's’s regime, never to be seen again.

Videla’s program of kidnapping people he deemed dangerous due to their political views stands out as a particularly dark period of Argentina’s history. It is estimated that as many as 30,000 people “disappeared" or were murdered during the Dirty War. Many were students, a particularly problematic group because they had been exposed to ideas not in line with those of the regime. But anyone who didn’t fall in line with Videla's politics was at risk. At any moment, a car with no license plate or other form of identification might pull up beside you. A man wearing a mask would then emerge from the vehicle. There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.

Symbol of the mothers of the disappeared 

Once a person was in the hands of the regime, the authorities would go through their possessions for information about other people who might be opposed to Videla. A calendar notation about meeting someone for lunch or having a haircut scheduled at the local salon could put those people at risk without regard to their politics.

Our guide Marcela shared a heartbreaking story about the last time she saw her best friend. They were approaching one another from opposite directions as they crossed a bridge. Marcela was particularly happy to see her as it had been a couple of weeks since they had gotten together. As they neared one another, her friend discreetly shook her head and passed without acknowledging Marcela. It was the last time they saw each other. Marcela later learned her friend had feared she was being followed and had taken her young child to her grandmother’s just in case. Marcella called her friend's failure to acknowledge her "a silent way of showing her love." 

It was the mothers of young people who had been kidnapped who first drew attention to what was happening. They initially went to the police to report that their children were missing. When no action was taken, they began gathering in what is now known as May Square. These women identified themselves by wearing white scarves on their heads. Even this action carried risk as Videla had imposed a law forbidding more than two people to gather at any time. Today the Square is lined with mosaics of these scarves as a reminder of what transpired.

Over time, information has been developed about what happened to the disappeared. Many of the victims ended up in one of the hundreds of ad hoc concentration camps. Most of the bodies of people who died while there were burned. This action was both pragmatic and cruel as the identities of those people are very difficult to determine. Manuel and his family were among the “lucky” ones. They received a call 34 years after his mother went missing that her remains had been found in a mass grave with 14 other bodies. She had been shot seven times. It was heartbreaking news, of course. But they finally had closure and could give her a proper burial.

"30,000" by Nicolas Guagnini

Occasionally, one of the disappeared would be let go. These releases were not out of sympathy for the captive. Instead, they were a political maneuver. When a friend or family member came back from the dead, he would tell people about the abuse suffered. The details would quickly spread, striking even more fear in the community. The message was loud and clear – if it happened to them, it could happen to you. 

The former prisoner might also relay information about other victims to their loved ones. While in captivity, people would cry out their names and relevant information in the hope that someone who was released would let their families know they were still alive. 

Another way victims were killed was by putting them on a "Flight of Death" in which they would be dropped from a plane.  Sometimes the person was already dead; others had merely been drugged. All had been tortured. On occasion, a body would be swept ashore and identified. While horrifying, at least the family knew their loved one was no longer suffering. When Videla realized this was happening, the pilots were instructed to fly further away from the coast before the drop. (Note: The information about this method of killing people was divulged by two pilots who later suffered from remorse over their involvement.)

Wall with names of the disappeared who have been identified

We met Manuel in Memorial Park - Monument to the Victims of State Terrorism. This site was chosen because it is here that some of the first bodies of the disappeared were found. Today it is a green area populated with sculptures honoring the victims. There is also a wall similar to our Viet Nam Memorial that contains the names of the victims whose remains have been found. Manuel showed us the brick engraved with his mother’s name – Maria Eugenio San Lorent. It was the most memorable moment of the entire trip. 

As of today, the wall honors approximately 10,000 people who died at the hands of Videla’s regime. If a woman was pregnant when she was killed, the inscription includes an asterisk to indicate this status. There is room for thousands more names as additional remains are identified.

More than 1,000 people are in prison for their involvement with Videla and the disappearances. The Vice President of Argentina is part of a group of people calling for their release. She is a “disappeared denier” who was democratically elected. Our world is a frightening place. 

Rapa Nui's Birdman Competition

Depiction of a Birdman competitot

For centuries, the tribes of Rapa Nui (Easter Island) lived together peacefully. Moai stood watch over each community as a way of honoring a tribe’s ancestors and obtaining mana (or power). Eventually, overpopulation and limited resources led to tribal warfare. Mana began to be achieved instead by warriors living in the here and now fighting to obtain more resources and defending their tribes. This societal transition led to the Birdman competition.

The annual event sounds like a triathalon with a dash of The Hunger Games thrown in for good measure. Each of the 12 tribes would put forward its hopu (competitor), typically a young man who had been training his entire life for this moment. I say “typically” because these men were not exempted from participating in the ongoing battles among the tribes. If a hopu was killed before his time to compete arrived, a lesser-trained member of the tribe would have to assume the job. Talk about an important understudy role!

The competition was held shortly after the tribal elders agreed that a manutara nesting on the neighboring islet of Mata Nui had laid the first egg of the season. What was so special about this particular breed of bird? Manutara were believed to be the reincarnation of the god of fertility, so capturing the first egg of the season promised future fertility, power and prosperity for the winning tribe.  

Mata Nui is largest of these islets

Finally, the moment these young men had been preparing for would arrive. The competitors would strap boogie boards made from reeds on their backs and run 1.5KM to the edge of the island facing Mata Nui. They would then scale down the 1300’ cliff for a 2.5KM shark-infested swim in the waters of the Pacific Ocean. Next the cliffs of Mata Nui had to be climbed. Once a competitor reached the islet, the search was on for the nest spotted by tribal leaders and the precious first egg of the season. The winning warrior would stand atop Mata Nui holding the egg above his head for the tribal elders to see. (In case you're wondering, as I was, he would have been identifiable by his body paint.) With that, the Birdman competition was over until the following year.

Still, the competitors had to get back to Rapa Nui. The victor would don headgear with a small basket in which the egg would be placed. He would then climb back down the cliff of Mota Nui and paddle back home on his raft, with the other hopu trailing behind. Upon reaching Rapa Nui, he would climb back up the cliff and present the egg to his tribal leader. If the egg broke along the way, it apparently wasn’t a big deal. Finding the egg was the goal, not its hatching. 

Birdman petroglyph that has been outlined

The leader of the winning tribe -- not the competitor -- was crowned Birdman and ruled the island for the following year. The village wiseman would choose a virgin from the community to become the wife of the new Birdman. What better way to ensure the promise of fertility would come to fruition? 

So what did the actual competitor get for his years of hard training? A year of living alone at the quarry where he was off-limits from tribal skirmishes. Oh, and there was a parade of sorts during which his clan carried him to his temporary home. I suspect he might have liked having the virgin for company, but that's not the way it worked.  

The tradition of the Birdman competition is estimated to have lasted approximately 100 years. In 1867, Catholics came to the island, and most of the Rapa Nui people were converted. The new leaders banned the Birdman competition on the grounds that it was too dangerous. There apparently wasn't much resistance to the elimination of the tradition as enthusiasm had waned over the years. Go figure.

 

Note: This blog is based on the information provided by our local tour leader. Other accounts of the tradition vary in some respects. They are all very dramatic. To dig down a bit more, click here. And for the Hollywood version of the tradition, you can watch the 1994 movie "Rapa Nui" on Apple TV.. For the trailer, click here. 

Meeting the Moai

Moai with topknots 

While I've been looking forward to my entire South American adventure, our visit to Easter Island is what drove the trip for me. I'm happy to report that this is one instance in which my expectations were exceeded. To see pictures of moai created centuries ago by the Rapa Nui people is one thing. To see them in person is something else entirely. Hearing the stories behind their creation made the experience even more powerful. 

Most of the moai are situated on ahu (stone platforms) with stones on the ground in front of them. This is because they are burial sites for the king or chief of a tribe and other important people. To have a moai erected in your honor showed status and mana (or power). The homes closest to a tribe’s moai were reserved for the next chief and his family. The people responsible for tasks like growing the crops and cooking the food lived further away from the ahu. With only one exception, the moai face in to the island and their communities. They provided protection for their people.

Quarry with 66' moai waiting to be moved

We visited the quarry where the moai were carved. Using tools made from basalt, four+ workers would spend several months carving a single moai from the volcanic stone. This image shows a moai abandoned in the process of being created. It would have stood 66’ tall. Once the front and sides of a moai had been carved, a tool akin to a boat keel would be used to lever the sculpture out of the mountain. Then another daunting task laid ahead – transporting the moai to its site.

As you can imagine, each moai was extremely heavy. The largest weighs in at more than 50 tons. The Rapa Nui were big and strong people – many men stood 6’ tall  – but still. First, the moai would be oh so carefully slid down the hill. There a vehicle of sorts with a wooden platform and rollers made from the trunks of palm trees awaited. Ropes would be attached to the sculpture from the front and back, and it would be moved onto a wooden bed and pulled into an upright position. The workers would then roll what appeared to be a “Walking Moai” to its site. The island is only 14 miles by 7 miles, but I’m thinking moving a moai even a few yards would have been a massive feat. Still, this herculean task was accomplished hundreds of times. When a moai had been mounted on its platform, the spirit of the deceased connected with his new body.

Only remaining moai with eyes

Not surprisingly, occasionally a moai would take a tumble along the way to its site. Even if the sculpture was not broken in the fall, it would be abandoned. With that, months of effort was undone, only to have to be replicated. The men who carved the sculpture – not those transporting it – would be punished because they had created a moai with bad mana (meaning spirit in this case).

Other broken moai could be found felled near their platforms. These were purposeful acts of destruction. During periods of tribal warfare – a result of overpopulation and a lack of resources – members of a competing tribe would topple the moai of their enemies. It was a serious act of aggression. 

The sculptures vandalized in this way can be identified not only by their proximity to their ahus. Moai that were installed are also identifiable because they have eye sockets. This final carving would be done once the moai had been placed on the platform, and the eyes would then be inserted. With the eyes in place, a moai served as a more true representation of the living face of its ancestor. 

With some of my new friends

Today, there is only one remaining moai on the island with eyes, and those are not original. In 1986, a local man began going to this moai each morning with his ladder, climb up and insert eyes he had made from white and red coral.  In 2000 he agreed the eyes could be permanently affixed due to concerns that his continual placement and removal was damaging the moai. And what about the little hat some of the moai – including our googly-eyed friend – are wearing? It turns out they’re not actually hats, but the pukaos – or topknots -- favored by the Rapa Nui men. 

While seeing a single moai was memorable, the sites where multiple moai had been installed were incredible. We spent one sunset at the site where seven moai stand. The early birds in our group also made a return visit at sunrise to the ahu with the largest collection of moai in one place. There 15 moai proudly stand protecting the island. 

Sunrise with the moai

These sculptures anchored the main square of that community. Only one sports a pukao. All of the moai originally had topknots, but the others were damaged beyond repair in a tsunami in 1960 caused by a 9.5 Richter scale earthquake in Santiago. Aside from that, these moai are in particularly good condition thanks to their restoration in 1992.

As we stood observing the moai as darkness turned to light, they developed personalities I hadn’t seen on our first visit. One appeared angry and vindictive; another seemed benevolent. Looking at them from behind, I noticed that one had Elvis-style bangs. Perhaps my favorite was the moai that appeared to have a white moustache. Someone commented it was like the “Got milk?” ad; another that he reminded them of Colonel Sanders. I wish I had the opportunity to keep visiting and developing my relationship with each of the moai. They exude both mystery and a deep spirituality. Our time on Rapa Nui had come to an end, though, so I will content myself with my memories and my pictures.