“They’ll make martyrs out of us- we’ll make fools out of them,”
reads the back of a young, hip Argentine’s t-shirt. Below the quote is a faded photo of a man tossing something, his mouth open in a yell. The young Argentine is sitting at a table of trendy friends, most are wearing John Deere type foamy ball caps; one says “Old School.” It’s almost midnight and the streets of Mendoza are packed with families, lovers, teenagers and old friends enjoying the 80-degree respite from the day’s sun as they linger at sidewalk cafes. After swimming at the hotel pool until 10:30 pm, Mariela and I are among them, waiting for our pizza to arrive. For all the daily challenges that life in South America presents, the one thing they have is the ability to put it all aside and enjoy life.

We spent most of today on a bus from Vina del Mar, Chile to Mendoza, Argentina. The bus ride over the endless switchbacks crossing the Andes was really only about 5 hours, but we spent 3 hours waiting to cross the border. It was torture trying to explain to a 5-year old what it means that there is a line in the pavement that separates Chile and Argentina in the middle of a giant garage that holds the offices of Chile and Argentine customs. We entertained ourselves by reading the quotes on our passports numerous times. “Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support and friend, oppose any foe, in order to assure the survival and the success of liberty,” said John Kennedy.

“Really?” Mariela asks me.

Arriving in Mendoza the temperatures were in the high 90’s but we had to muck around finding our hotel, delivering the packet full of cash I was carrying for Christians’ climbing expedition, and finding the Ferruccio Soppelsa shop or “the best ice cream in the world.” We hadn’t had a meal all day, but at 8:00 pm we languished in the creaminess of vanilla Malbec (red wine ice cream for me) for and fresh strawberry sherbet for Mariela. I reminded Mariela that traveling was hard, but the rewards were always worth it. Things don’t often “work” here in South America like infrastructure, customs, vehicles, electronics, or timelines, but at the end of the day, who is happier? This question haunts my travels.

The most disturbing about South America happens to be the same thing that disgusts me about the USA- the drive for consumerism and all it represents. Take the worst of the TV, malls, and cheap plastic goods, and multiply it by 10 and add a zillion people rushing around trying to consume what they can’t really afford. Its nuts. As Chile and Argentina become developed countries with more affluent people, they are consuming recklessly, making the USA look mellow by comparison. Often friends will remark that mega malls and traffic jams are all “thanks to Uncle Sam.” What have we given them? Something to buy, something to desire, something to work harder to buy, something to take away their free time.

This morning (thanks to wi-fi and our “computer stuff”) we watched a great video by Annie Leanard that describes the Story of Stuff “from its extraction through sale, use and disposal. The Story of Stuff exposes the connections between a huge number of environmental and social issues, and calls us together to create a more sustainable and just world.” It was so powerful that Mariela didn’t bug me all day to buy a Brat or a Barbie- and we passed hundreds of them on the street.

What you learn by traveling is that nowhere is perfect, but perhaps you could take the best of every place you go and incorporate it into your life. My personality is somewhat molded, but Mariela is a sponge for and is taking a little bit from everyone we meet. Since I’ve been here I’ve read three outstanding Islamic books- Infidel, A Thousand Splendid Suns, and A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier. All paint a pretty terrifying picture of how women and children are treated in these cultures, yet they have incredible strength.

Here in South America, machismo still exists, but women are infinitely better off. And they have a lot of sass- something I could use a bit more of. As much as I find myself disappointed in some of the American ideals as they relate to consumerism, I wouldn’t trade for a million years the freedom American women have to be whoever they want. A great combination would be to possess the love for life and fun of a Latina, the freedom of an American, and the passion for children, family and spirituality of an Islamic woman.

Back at the pizza joint, Mariela is fascinated that the restaurant has it’s own guitar player, and we flirt with the old waiter who, like many of the people here, has Italian roots so he’s naturally tender and adoring. He’s incredibly busy but takes time to speak to us in a singsong voice filled with amusement. Our pizza arrives and we dig into fresh mozzarella over roasted tomato sauce topped Argentine style with oregano and giant green olives. A glass of warm Malbec from the surrounding vineyards melts my legs.

Three 70-something women sitting next to us banter like old friends as they apply cherry red lipstick before heading back home to their families. They look happy. The waiter tells us we are blessed three times- once for finding this table, twice because his granddaughter is named Mariela, three times to be in Mendoza. Mariela gives him a toothy grin and says “Gracias, Senior. Chao!”