How many men does it take to change a tire?
...read on to find out!
Gualfín, Calchaqui Valley, Argentina.
March 2nd, 2024.
Dear Reader,
When we set out for Gualfín on Thursday morning, we discovered that Adrien’s truck had a flat tire. Unfortunately, the key to open the spare didn’t work due to a build up of mud and gunk on the under carriage. So we called the farm mechanic who came over with his brother in law, visiting for the weekend.
They pumped up our tire and we followed them back to the galpón, the garage, where Edgardo, the mechanic, opened the spare tire lock with a soldering machine.
Then, the three men - Adrien, Edgardo and the brother in law - set to work changing the tire while Antonio, our foreman, oversaw the operation…
Once we were set with the spare, we drove to Molinos and straight to the mechanic there so he could properly patch the tire, and replace the spare one under the truck.
By then it was past twelve and we were hungry. We sat down for lunch at the Rancho de Manolo for a simple repast of salad, empanadas, and a lomo - steak - sandwich.
Revived, we continued on our way.
Up in Gualfín, we discovered that the rain had caused the hills to be covered with a soft green grass, the asequia was flowing with cool, clear water, the wild flowers were abloom, the scent of lavender hung in the air and the cattle were, for once, looking fat. It was heavenly.
As to the originarios, all has been quiet. Although a young man from one of the rebel families came over yesterday to talk with Adrien…he complained that the communidad would not allow him to build a driveway to his house from the main road, and that he was also forbidden to work for the farm, meaning that he relies solely on government handouts for his livelihood.
Realizing that the originario organization was restraining him from living life according to his own values, he decided to speak with Adrien…and also, would he be allowed to build a small garage for his motorcycle please?…
When we pulled up at the sala, our employee Sergio was already there with his wife Luz, whom we’d engaged to do the cooking for our wine tasting party.
Luz prepared beautiful dishes like burrata with arugula and watermelon, a mango salsa, and shoestring French fries. Sergio got the fire going and salted the meat for the asado. There was some discussion about eating outside, but that was soon squashed when big black clouds began to roll over the hills, and droplets fell from the sky.
Marta, our housekeeper, added an extra couple of leaves to the dining room table, and dressed it with a white tablecloth, candles, two bouquets of roses, tablitas - wooden plates - steak knives, and wine glasses.
Adrien had selected ten wines to taste including a Bolivian Tannat which smelled and tasted like basura - trash - a very expensive bottle of Californian red from Napa Valley, and a French wine from Saint Estephe - “mise en bouteille au chateau” no less!
The rest of the wines were from Argentina, made by our friends. It was a lot of fun to try the different ones, and guess where they were from, what grapes had been used to make them, and what year we thought each one was.
Adrien had even printed up papers so we could grade the wines from 0 - 10, and jot down our answers. I surprised myself by how well I did. But a couple of the wines had me stumped.
“Tinto. Muy rico!” - A red wine. Very tasty! - was all I could think of to say!
The evening ended with tea and coffee by the fire.
A few of our guests stayed the night. And after a lunch of delicious leftovers, they departed.
More to come. Happy weekend!
Abrazos,
Mariah
P.S. If you missed my latest Voice from the Valley video, you can watch it here!
Lovely piece as ever. There’s definitely a quip your title deserves a bit like ‘how many psychiatrists does it take to change a lightbulb, one but the lightbulb must really want to change’.
thank you Mariah