i rode a horse. i fucking OWNED the horse. i bloody galloped. for a half hour. hair flying behind, holding onto nothing but the reigns as the gauchos do, into the fields of Areco with the storm at our backs.
the town has been lacking any rain for four months now, which is rather disastrous considering the region survives on agriculture. so everyone has been begging for rain, as the temperature climb, and the humidity soaks. little by little by little, it started to feel like the skies would explode, and last night everyone's hopes were the highest they could be. people stayed home waiting for it to rain. tension was so high. and then the stars came shining through, ruining everyone's hopes and providing another hot, hot night.
this morning, we walked to estancia cinacina (check the website--oh my goodness so beautiful). we were going horseback riding. ALL (note:every single one) of my riding experiences have ended in disaster, ranging in gravity; the first ride, thrown off a full-size horse at age 6; have a horse near roll onto me at 7; horse bolting off; horses bucking in front of me. they know i am scared, and therefore they are scared. clever fellows, they are, one should try and avoid the overly-nervous folk. so this morning, my mother convinces me to get out of bed early and head on over as the skies cloud over mighty fast. we meet our guide, Jose Luis, a charming shy gaucho, and i just pretend like i´ve been on a horse every day of my life, and guess what? JL and the horse bought it. fifteen minutes in we were running through the fields and a million bucks couldn´t have wiped the smile off my face. such a thrill. my ass may be killing me, but i could NOT care less. i am still grinning after three glasses of wine on the patio.
the rest of the day was watching traditional dance and laughing about with gauchos and italian tourists and american pastors (well, perhaps slightly laughing at the latter). as we ate the umpteen-course meal over the afternoon, the rain begain to collapse onto the grounds, dousing the estancia, giving us no choice but to get wet anyway. my mom and i looked at each other and decided to walk home in the torrential downpour, flip flops sliding in mud, winning the wet-tshirt contest and thoroughly drenching every part of our body. the electricity went out with the storm, and as we walked into the hotel, the staff (who is rather unoccupied seeing as we are the only guests in the hotel) burst out laughing at the sight of us. towels were wrapped around us and we siestad in the glory of my triumph.
the rain is still going, but i am happy it is, the rain makes the people happy, and i like smiling gauchos. i may try and sneak back on a horse tomorrow before heading back to BA
--
Julia Elena Paolucci
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