Living in Neverland: Different Than Expected

From the bustling metropolis of Buenos Aires to the rustic countryside at Estancia Los Potreros, this change was more drastic than I anticipated. When I hear the word “estancia,” I think “ranch.” When I think “ranch,” I envision a wooden barn, dusty saddles, cowboy hats, fenced in corrals, families in just-purchased boots and hats, and an easy-going, relaxed, casual atmosphere. Well Rochelle, you’re definitely not in Wyoming anymore. Instead, I found a pristine estate with white-washed buildings, a perfectly organized barn, polo helmets, English riding breeches, experienced adult riders, and a tightly controlled regime of meals and riding. I’m sure that to the guests it is relaxing and peaceful and everything a vacation should be, but behind the scenes is a different story. I had anticipated an experience similar to my job in Wyoming, but that is not how these four months are going to be. And this is not a bad thing, it is just a different thing which took some getting used to and adjustment on my part.

From the moment that the taxi dropped my off at a gate on the side of the road things have been different than anticipated. First off, a gorgeous girl in a beret – later find out it is called a boino – picks me up in a beat-up pickup truck. Lucky for me, this beautiful lady is now my roommate and a bright spot each day! Her name is Robyn, and without her or Ross (a former guide here), I would not have survived my first three weeks at the estancia. We bounce along the road and I lose count of how many gates I have opened and shut; I am distracted by the conversation and trying to absorb my surroundings. Thirty minutes after being picked up, we reach the main estancia and it unfolds before me in pristine beauty. I am truly astounded at how beautiful it is. Bleached white buildings with red tile rooves, reminiscent of Greece or Italy (again I am imagining, I have never been to either location), sit on a lawn of emerald green grass, which is being munched upon by shiny-coated, healthily round horses. Hammocks are strung between pillars on the verandah, Adirondack chairs are thoughtfully placed on the patio, and everything seems to have a place. In the kitchen there is organized chaos as the guides finish breakfast and clear out so that the cook and guide assigned to breakfast can prepare for the guests. Even the kitchen is immaculate. I am quickly introduced to everyone, although it is pointless since everyone then scatters to their assigned duties and I am left wondering what to do with myself.

In the end, I opted to sit on a bench in the ‘garden,’ a fenced-in expanse of lawn that two pregnant mares were kept in while they had their foals, and read. One of the mares had given birth just hours before my arrival so I was torn between watching the newborn foal and reading my book. I was quickly joined by a pack of dogs – there are nine dogs living at the ranch, seven border collies and two labs – who competed for my attention, even going so far as to climb into my lap. That was something that has surprised me during my time here: while everything appears to have a place and an order, the one exception to that is the animals. They run wild and have the run of the place. On the estancia, there are cows, horses, chickens, dogs, and pigs and it is not uncommon to see them all together. The cows are always in the various pastures, but the younger horses roam all around the main house, the chickens scavenge for bugs behind the house, the pigs roam all over outside, and the dogs go absolutely wherever they want, including inside. It is a zoo, and it is magical! Adding to the bit of chaos are the birds. Oh my goodness, so many species of birds! Bright parakeets, hummingbirds, eagles, vultures, roadrunners, woodpeckers, condors, and numerous songbirds flit around the trees and speckle the blue sky with their silhouettes. The bats join in this mayhem at dusk. My first 24 hours at the ranch were overwhelming and somewhat daunting. Everyone seemed to have a job to do and no one seemed especially interested in cluing me in; those that would have clued me in were too busy with work to do so. By the afternoon I was a bit bored with meditating on the bench, so I followed Ross around and picked his brain. He was very patient in explaining things to me and introducing me to some of the horses.

Robyn and I's house

Over the course of the next couple weeks, another guide, Nick, came to join us and Robyn and Ross were our mentors. Their friendship and patience is what made all the frustrations bearable. Being in a new place is difficult enough, but throw in not being able to speak the local language and it’s enough to drive anyone nuts! (I am still frustrated by the fact that I cannot speak the language, but my Spanish is improving every day!). While I instantly liked the other guides, I could not get a good read on either of my bosses. I genuinely could not tell if they liked me, hated me, were annoyed by me, or didn’t care enough to even have an opinion. I also got a slightly skewed perception of the estancia in those first few weeks due to some turmoil lurking below the serene surface. Learning about what was going on made it extra difficult to settle in and enjoy my work there. I was at a loss, didn’t know what to think, and could not even speak enough Spanish to find out. I was totally reliant on the other guides to fill me in and was so angry with myself for not being able to take an active part in the conversations and help sort out the situation. Long story short, both Nick and Ross ended up leaving the estancia; and for whatever reason, things are much more pleasant at the moment. Both Robyn and I really miss them though; they added a healthy dose of humor and wit to every situation and are really interesting people to be around. If either of you read this, thank you for your friendship and mentoring during the tumultuous three weeks that we got to work together.

Part of our job description here is to cook breakfast a few times of week and set up then host meals – lunch, tea, and dinner. If you are on breakfast duty and get dinner duty as well, you are in for a long day. I’m talking 7:30am until around 11:30pm. The end time is dependent on the guests; we have to stay up and ‘entertain’ them until the last one decides that they are ready for bed. I have never had to do anything like this before. Sure, I have shared meals with guests and chat with them while riding, but ‘hosting’ meals is a totally different experience. I am constantly on the lookout for empty glasses so that I can “top them up;” we never ask if they want more, lest we draw attention to the fact that they are, in fact, drinking more. However, I always mess up and ask to “top them off,” which means “can I cut your head off?”. Ooops. I’m sticking with it though, I like my little catchphrase. I’m fairly certain that I might get kicked off meal duty as some point seeing as how I have already spilled an entire tray of champagne flutes filled with dessert wine, mixed up wines, spilled milk, incorrectly set the table – I swear that we try to use as many dishes as possible during mealtimes – constantly have my elbows on the table, spilled a pitcher of milk while clearing breakfast, stack plates when I clear them (that’s a no no apparently), don’t drink tea, and am just generally ungraceful which is a dangerous trait for someone who is regularly expected to carry trays laden with hand blown glass cups. I’d like to think that my charming personality makes up for all of this, however we currently have a full house of French people so I can’t even communicate enough to let my personality shine through. Oh well, what’s a girl to do. Mom, why didn’t you ever send me to boarding school, or etiquette classes?!

To top it off, I thought that I would at least excel at the horseback riding part of the operation, but I can’t even seem to do that right. One of the gauchos that we work always seems to be rolling his eyes at my ignorance, correcting something on horses that I’ve saddled, or getting exasperated with me for not knowing all 100+ horses yet. Sometimes, I have done things right by the gauchos’ standards, but then someone else comes along and tells me something different. It is quite frustrating. We also play polo here, something that I have never done. Thus, I have never had to wrap horses’ legs for polo. Therefore, I am much slower at it than the gauchos or more experienced guides, which leads to more eye rolling and exasperation. Some days I don’t think that I do a single thing right.

love this little guy

But enough of the pity party. Contrary to these previous paragraphs, I have settled in and am enjoying my time here. Now that I know the routine and can understand more Spanish, my life has become way easier and more pleasant. We have a constantly changing flow of guests, many of which are experienced riders who like to canter across the rolling hills; the horses are magnificent; the scenery is unlike anything that I have ever ridden through; and my riding has improved since I’ve been here. Plus, I have learned many new skills; prepare yourself for this astounding list: I know how to serve high tea and how to set a table based on that meal’s menu. I can open wine bottles in record time. I speak more proper English since I’m surrounded by Brits all day. I made a very stern Turkish man laugh. I am quite good at saltica, a gaucho game in which you try to put a tiny stick through a 2inch diameter ring while at a gallop. I am a professional at opening gates. I can rock a beret. My stick shift driving skills have improved. I can ride in a recado saddle (actually prefer it). I can (kind of) play polo – and my boss actually compliments me each time saying that I improve with each game! I understand more Spanish. I have gotten to ride Peruvian Paso horses. And most impressively, I can now poach, soft boil, and fry eggs in the proper English style, not as us Americans dare to do it where the yolks actually cook a bit. So you see, I am growing as a person whilst here (oh yeah, I now say things such as “whilst,” “shall,” and “quite lovely.”)

favorite dog: Neeps/Noodles

But let’s be serious, anyone who knows me knows that if I get to ride horses for 6 hours a day, I would do just about anything and learn any new ‘skill.’ So, in return for pretending to be a lady at mealtimes, I get to ride through amazing countryside, chase cows, play with dogs, and take pictures with foals all day long. And with each passing day, I become more accustomed to the estancia culture and what is expected of me, which allows me to relax and actually enjoy my time here and appreciate all the amazing opportunities that I am afforded. Stay tuned for my next post where I will talk about the rides and post enough pictures to make you jealous enough to come visit!