Working at an isolated estancia in Argentina, one expects to
become close with one’s coworkers – we work together, eat together, relax
together, and for us girls, sleep together (as in we share a house). As a result of this forced comradery, some of
us form genuine friendships and are planning ways of seeing each other after
our time at the estancia. This is the
positive side of the limited space here.
However, the downside is that there is also no such thing as “private
space;” we all eat in the same room, share a bathroom while working, are
together on rides, and even our little house is not sacred space. So, in addition to emotional ‘closeness,’ we
are also physically very close. All the
time. Every day. Because of this, one is
braced for a few awkward physical encounters around the estancia: accidentally
walking in on someone using the bathroom, seeing a stealthy kiss, seeing your
co-worker in nothing but a too-small towel. But due to this constant
expectation, everyone is always on guard and trying to prevent any awkward
run-ins, and to be honest, there are very few incidents at the estancia.
But, when you finally get to leave the bubble of the
estancia, either on a ride or during your off-day, you think, “yes, I am safe
and finally can have some alone time.” WRONG. Wrongwrongwrongwrongwrong! The
following two anecdotes are prime examples of the dangers of letting your guard
down, even when you think that you are alone.
Of the two stories that follow, only one is of my own experience.
(Fortunately I don’t have any more to share…for now). The other story belongs to my dear friend,
roommate, and partner in crime, henceforth known as Robyn Robinson. May these
two narratives be your cautionary tale, and save you from the same embarrassment
that befell Robyn and I. (Also, please
excuse my language in the first story – I am telling it from Robyn’s point of
view, using her own Scottish sayings and proper English tendencies; don’t
worry, I haven’t secretly gone off to finishing school).
Peeing on the Prairie
“I knew that I had to go fast, that this was my
chance.” Robyn’s final thought before
her moment of embarrassment…
One of the most uncomfortable feelings is having to pee
while riding a horse; especially a horse with a jaunty step, bouncy trot, and
hard-hitting canter. Therefore, out on
the trail, it is not uncommon to have to stop to let the guests relieve
themselves behind a conveniently located bush or, if you’re lucky, a grove of
trees. Such was the case as Robyn
accompanied guests on a cattle drive: one of the guests requested a pit stop
and as Robyn stood, holding this woman’s horse, she realized that she herself
also needed a pit stop. However, she did
not want to ask a guest to hold her horse and the gauchos were out of sight, so
she opted to hold it in and wait for an opportune moment. That moment came just a few minutes later as
the gaucho and guests disappeared over a rise and Robyn found herself alone and
shielded from view. Now was the
time! “I hopped off Aguito (the horse)
and immediately crouched to the ground.
I was trying to go really fast.”
While in the crouch, she was furtively watching the hill that the guests
had ridden over, just in case they returned to look for her. What she didn’t expect was to hear voices
approaching from a different direction….
“Shit, shit, shit. I can’t stop midway. Faster, faster!” Racing against the nearing
voices, her bladder tried it’s best, but wasn’t quick enough. Just as Robyn pulled up her fluorescent pink
underwear, she felt eyes upon her: one of the guests had spotted her. Even worse, the gaucho on the ride, a 16 year
old who may have had a crush on this lovely guide, was right next to the
guest! When questioned later, he claimed
to have averted his gaze before seeing anything; and yet, an obvious flush
comes over the boy’s face as he recounts the story. “Franco saw my bum,” is how
Robyn summarizes this story as she shares her embarrassing encounter with us
back at the estancia. Moral of the
story: pee faster, always find a tree, and don’t wear brightly-colored
underwear – it could attract unwanted, and unexpected, attention.
Tanning at Las Tasas
A 15-minute walk through a field of thistle, then a
90-minute walk hopping from rock to rock down the river. This was how I began my off day last week. Why?
Because I wanted to spend the day at Las Tasas, the swimming hole tucked
deep into the estancia’s land. I had
ensured that the guests would not be taken there that day, so I was in the
clear to enjoy it all by myself. During
the trek there, I was getting really excited to have this beautiful spot all to
myself, and toyed with the idea of skinny dipping. Why not?
I was in the middle of nowhere in Argentina, on private land, and knew
that everyone else from the estancia would be at the cattle station during the
day. 
People had hiked up to the pools from down river and were
standing just about 20 yards away, looking in my direction! And I was naked! AHHHHH! Thank goodness that I had my suit with me (I
was using it as a pillow); if I had left it on the rocks where I got into the
pool, I don’t know what I would have done!
Anyhow, I tried desperately to play it cool: slid off the rock and into
the water, pulled my suit back on, then returned to the rock as if nothing was
amiss and I had been dressed the entire time.
Because they approached from behind, I have convinced myself that they
just saw my bare back, nothing else. And
I’m sticking to that theory. When I
returned to the estancia and shared my story of mortification, I was received
with belly-laughter and exclamations of surprise from the other guides. Our boss told me that they hadn’t seen people
up there in over three years. Naturally
they’d show up the one time I’m there and decide to unleash my inner
hippie. Moral of the story: you’re never
alone, even in the middle of nowhere; if you chose to skinny dip, always keep
your suit nearby and have a friend as a lookout.
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| the scene of the crime...this is post-incident |
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