Oh, wait. Some necessary appendices:

1. I spent a while complaining about the falls and how many people there were here. While perhaps a valid complaint, today I had two pretty fantastic experiences. First, we walked down the Sendero Macuco, where sendero = path, and a macuco is a kind of bird, which google tells me is a Solitary Tinamou. The path doesn’t bring you to the main falls, so it’s much less-used. It’s a dirt path, mud in places, and after three kilometers of nothing but flat jungle, you come to a rather intense decline, and come out onto a fork. If you go right, which we did second, you can climb down a difficult path to find yourself at the riverside, with these beautiful sedimentary-I-think rocks, and lizards, and under the hot sun. You can’t even see the waterfall from this far down the river, so we saw all of this without seeing anyone else but one boyscout-redhead who I named William.

If instead you go left at the fork, you come to the bottom of a smaller waterfall which falls into a small pool, crosses a small stream, and falls down below into the river. The path ends at the pool-side, but you can clamber over the rocks, crossing all the way around to stand under the waterfall, literally underneath it, or behind it. The water was cold and amazing, and underneath you could hear nothing, you could see the water spraying into the air, you could feel the slippery, mossy rocks under your feet. If you walked along the stream, you could stand unencumbered at the shelf of the lower falls, trying to get close enough to peer over the edge. As we left, some kids went the easy route, and just jumped into the cold water and swam across. 

Before we took off, we walked the lower path below the falls again, the main falls, and walked as close as we could, and I realized as I stood there, staring up into the water pouring over the cliff, the spray wetting my face and hair, that I could hear nothing except the roar of the falls, and when I stared up into it, I could pretend I was alone. Although I might wish I could be closer, or climb across the river and stand below the most beautiful falls, or go to the island (which was closed because of “high water”), I was still amazed with what there was. How’s that for a message?

2. I think I need to add that when I say I don’t think I could work with kids, I mean in part that I think some people are able to form attachments with all of the kids that they work with, and really get something out of each day — it’s just difficult for me to do so

3. Last, I need to add that although I’m regretful of not having tried to meet people, I really did end up enjoying my time in Buenos Aires, no? I am sad that I did not, and set in the idea that I’ll try harder in the future, but I’m pleased with how things went, on the whole. 

In any case, a happy Fourth to the all of you, and I find myself leaving for Tucúman this evening. It’s a 20-hour-or-so bus ride, so I’ll have a nice chance to get to know the north. Or something.