I have never had the experience, at home or abroad, of walking along picturing the root structure of every weed that lines the sidewalk.  After spending the last week and a half weeding an entire organic operation, I have developed a fondness for dandilions (very satisfying main root to remove) and a deep-rooted (haha) hatred for clover.  Clover is sneaky.  With all of those connected, hair-thin roots, I have a hard time believing it's ever brought anyone luck.

That said, there is something quite fulfilling about ending a day with grimy fingernails.  Compared to applying to graduate school (which seems like a never-ending process), it's soothing to look at plot of well-turned soil and think that you have single-handedly made possible the lives of a thousand quinoa seedlings.

Incredibly beautiful quinoa plant.

Steamy, well-weeded greenhouse.

The setting made the days satisfying as well.  Mawenko (the name of the farm we were at) perches on the coast of Chiloe, an island off the coast of southern Chile.  Our hosts, Nelson and Venecia and their two too-cute children, had a beautiful house for volunteers.  

The living room of the volunteer house.

View from the table pictured above.  

On several mornings, we even got to see dolphins jumping around in the bay.  The only downside of the house was the teeeeeeny wood stove that was meant to heat the entire building.  It's the beginning of spring here.  Mornings and evenings are downright cold.  Lauren spend an un-godly amount of time coaxing our capricious stove into flame.

Looks friendly but isn't.

We got to spend a good bit of time with the family during meal times, but we also got to spend most of the evenings on our own in this cottage.  It was a relaxing balance.  After busing around from place to place for a while, it's nice to be in a place long enough to unpack and put some things on a shelf.  On a particulary rainy day, we even got to make a mosaic for the volunteers' cottage as our "work" for the day.  

 Aine and Caur in fine-form.  The hammoc in the volunteers' cottage was an endless source of entertainment.  

And I just realized that I don't actually have the mosaic pictures as they're on Lauren's camera.  You can check our her blog for a peak:  www.wanderyear.blogspot.com.

On our day off, we rode with Nelson to a nearby town and artisan market.  He told us a lot about the history of the island as we bounced along nodding and saying "Si, claro."  I think we might have been the least linguistically prepared volunteers they have ever had.  But they were both incredibly patient with our nods and ridiculous comments.  Venecia spent a good while one afternoon talking about the state of agriculture and the food industry in Chile.  She asked (mostly to be polite as she already knew how limited our Spanish is) what it was like in the U.S.  I was dying to enter into a conversation with her, but somehow ended up pantomiming "Happy Meal" in an effort to explain the marketing that's directed toward children.  "We have happy food, to the children, with small cowboy or doll!" (how I know those two words and not the general word for "toy" is beyond me).  Anyhow, back to the market.  Thank goodness we only had about 45 minutes.  Any knitter would have gone crazy.  I think I officially have an entire sheep in my pack.  U.S. Customs loves when you try to bring farm animals back in the the states.  

Me gazing longingly at wool rugs.  

One our way back to Puerto Montt from the farm, we spent a day in Castro, the capitol of Chiloe.  We had some lovely coffees and treats out and enjoyed a sunny amble around town.  It was a nice day of transition between farm life and the next adventure.  

In front (and slightly blocking) the picturesque, waterfront houses in Castro.

That's better.

I'm currently writing this from a quaint hostel in Puerto Natales, the gateway city to Torres del Paine National Park.  Lauren and I leave tomorrow morning for a week-long backpacking trip through some of the world's most stunning scenery.  It's time to pack up the netbook, set grad school work aside, and revel in mountains and glaciers (and day-dream about the shockingly easy boat ride to Antartica).

So, what should you do when things don’t happen as expected with your travel plans? Go to Argentina!

It worked so well the first time, and this time (aside from another ridiculous border crossing) it turned out fabulously as well. We took yet another epic bus ride up and over the Andes during which I took entirely too many photos.

Our first destination was Bariloche, the chocolate capitol of Argentina. Yes, that’s right. From vineyards to chocolate fountains. We indulged in some incredible truffles (and bars and gelatto...)while enjoying the Switzerland-esque mountain lake view.

We then took a bus an hour or so south to a little hippie town called El Bolson. We stayed with an adorable family and actually ended up running their hostel for a day so they could run errands. Definitely adding that one to the CV: ran a hostel in Argentina.
 

 
On our last day in El Bolson, we went to the craft market and made a series of bad budget decisions that ended with Lauren and I each having GIANT woolen ponchos and pretty sterling rings.  We also had some of the most delicious empanadas and french fries ever.

Right now, back in the grandmother’s house in Puerto Montt, Chile, I’m happy with my purchases. This poncho is snuggly and warm, and I hope the ring – whose center stone is the national stone of Argentina – will always remind me to be flexible and breezy (or at least flexible and breezy enough to remember to run to Argentina when things get bad!).
After all of these spontaneous travel changes and snafoos, it seems that we’ve finally gotten a good turn. We heard back from an organic farm/commune on the island of Chiloe here in Chile. It was my first choice farm from the beginning. I had emailed them back in June, but they’d told me that they were booked during our time here. I re-emailed them when our other farm failed. We heard back that they could have us beginning October 1. Lauren and I had to fill out a rather extensive form in Spanish about our world views, how we contribute to a healthy community, and what kind of meditation and art we practice. Somehow, despite our clunky, ridiculous Spanish, they accepted us.
I’m so pleased to get to have a farm experience. From all of our communication with this family, it sounds like we’re in for a very calm, whole, stimulating, artistic time. There may even be yoga involved. And greenhouse strawberrries. There might even be (enter fulfillment of childhood dream)...... PENGUINS!