Today (Wednesday) was a mountain biking day, after getting a ringing endorsement from the local Swedes (it was really really hard!). The brochure told me to take the number 22 bus from downtown and hope off at at km 18.3 to rent a bike. Well, the number 22 wasn’t even close. Spent an hour riding through the dirt back-roads of Bariloche before finally asking the driver if we would ever get to km 18.3. He just laughed, and told me to follow a trail until I got back to the main road, then take the number 10. I just ended up walking.
Got to the bike rental place, which was clearly set up for people who have never even heard of a mountain bike before, as they made us go through a tutorial on switching gears. They set up a route to follow, a fairly long loop around an inland lake, which sounded fine to me until I realized that it just followed the highway. I asked if there were any real trails. They said yes, there were, but don’t take them because ‘they’re dangerous and you’ll get lost’. I said ‘that sounds like no fun, I’ll just follow the road’ and made sure to slip as I left. Ended up doing a circle around a very pretty mountain, finding my own rock beach, and having a blast, except that they were right on the ‘you’ll get lost’ part. After 4 hours running on just a muffin and coffee, I again ended up walking.
The bike place is representative of Bariloche as a whole, which is clearly and firmly marked on all Argentine tourist guidebooks (and for good reason really). There are tourist cities in most countries around the world. The Lonely Planet phenomenon has gotten to be a little out of hand. Within a given city, you can tell plain as day which restaurants, hotels, and activities are recommended. It’s a little sad that some of the best places get stampeded and ‘touristified’ to death, but then again, what else is a full family or AARP group to do travelling in some unknown place.
Tourist cities aren’t all bad either. In some of the less travelled countries of the world, it can be a real weight off the shoulders to find a place where you won’t get stared at or stick out like an unwelcome sore thumb. I understand the reasons for why people in a lot of places don’t trust foreigners, but being judged as (untrustworthy, greedy, arrogant and condescending) before you even say hi really wears on you. And in turn, when the people you interact with don’t trust you for a second, it becomes hard to trust them in return. It’s a difficult cycle. But that doesn’t mean it can’t be changed. One of the best moments I had in Peru was when we returned to Huanuscuro – the tiny rural village we built stoves in – to finish our work after they assumed we had left and given them the shaft. It broke the stare. That might have been a more significant thing for the people than the actual stoves we built.
Again, how different would the world be if every country had a tradition like Israel’s? That sort of experience, being judged or discriminated against, being in a stand-out minority, is something that everybody can learn from.
As a side note, you won’t get that in Argentina, which is one of the reasons I have liked this place thus far. They aren’t afraid to douse you in local culture (although I would have to get out the hostel circuit to really get it) without assuming that you’ll choke because you’re a stupid American. They give you some credit and don’t care where you’re from. It’s fresh. It’s one more reason for Lonely Planet to stop printing Argentina editions as well.
Quote of the day: ‘When I decided to be a dancer, I thought Tango was too typical for an Argentine, so I learned Arabic belly dancing. It’s unique, it’s fun, it’s great at parties, it’s… well, no, really I just wanted to dance like Shakira.’
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