The Jesuit Estancias of the Sierra de Córdoba

Everyone I talked to said I would love Córdoba, and they were right. It is a very busy city, the second most populous in Argentina according to my guidebook, and I believe it. Whenever I found myself downtown, I was among crowds of people, even in the middle of the day. I wanted to ask everyone why they weren't at work, but I thought that might be rude. Anyway, downtown Córdoba is really cool, especially because it has a lot of colonial architecture and a Jesuit block. However, I was feeling camera fatigue again, so I have no photographic evidence of these claims. Of note, however, is that I paid for a hostel dorm room (which means usually shared bunk beds) and there were no other guests in my room, so I got to explode my stuff everywhere and enjoy the space. Also, staying at my hostel were a mother and son from Paraguay, and they were entertaining company. The son had a little crush on me, and followed me around the kitchen being helpful while I made dinner each night. It was nice to have the company.

My second day in Córdoba, I took the bus to the small town of Jesús María to visit two Jesuit Estancias (ranches) left over from the years of colonization. I have already made clear my love of old buildings, but have I described my love of the Jesuits? Ever since I recieved my Jesuit education at Seattle U, I have felt a strange tie to the Jesuits. I don't consider myself Catholic and I never even took a class from a priest, but in many ways my Jesuit education has led me to South America, and for that, I decided to pay my respects.

It was a very rewarding journey. First of all, the architecture was stunning. The first estancia I visited, Jesús María, seemed more like a castle. Inside, the rooms contained objects of daily life on the estancia, which I found equally fascinating. There was the typical museum fare, like old tools and pots and furniture. There were also really creepy religious paintings and scary looking crucifixes, which I loved. I love the ones that show Jesus dripping with blood and gore. I love the drama of Catholicism. There were also amazingly delicate and detailed medalions, some decorated with mother of pearl. I got to stand on the balcony of the church, and it was gorgeous. Its dome and walls were painted baby blue with white accents, and it had an intricate chandelier. It seemed peaceful, the way churches are supposed to. Sometimes, I find Latin American chruches to be too gaudy and overdone, so that they distract from the purpose of going to chruch in the first place. But I found myself thinking, I might actually enjoy going to church in a place like this! I also highly enjoyed wandering through the halls and rooms of the estancia, imagining the items in use, a Jesuit perched on a tiny, ancient bed, 0r myself gazing out the window hundreds of years ago. Enchanting, enchanting!

Also, I had a heyday with my camera. It was a perfect day, weather-wise.

Jesús María as I approached.

The inner patio.

These got a little dark, but I like the etheral look of the clouds behind the dome of the cathedral.

After exhausting the photo opportunities and unexplored nooks of Estancia Jésus María, I walked across the town of Jésus María to visit the other estancia in the area, Estancia Caroya. This estancia was acquired by the Jesuit Order in 1616, and much later, after it was taken away from the Jesuits and they were expelled from the continent in the mid-1700s, it became a hotel for immigrants. The interior patio was stunning, and the grounds were landscaped with many of the giant clay pots used to store wine. The collections of historical objects and art were not as extensive, and by this time I was facing a bit of museum fatigue, so I did not try to carefully puzzle through the panels and labels written in Spanish. However, the grounds alone made my visit worth the walk. Also on the grounds were ruins of some sort of dam or hydraulic system the Jesuits created (they were so smart! and quite talented engineers!).

The view of Estancia Caroya as I approached.

A shot of the chapel from inside the gates. The inside of the chapel was very stark with dark wooden support beams and whitewashed walls, in contrast to the calming blue of the chapel at Estancia Jésus María.

A view from inside the gates of the estancia.

Several different views of the Estancia from the interior patio. Those are lime trees, by the way.

All in all, I have decided that being a Jesuit circa 1700 wouldn't have been so bad if you got to hole up in digs like these! Also, I was pleased with myself for venturing on a smaller, local bus to a tiny little town. Little trips like this used to stress me out; having to figure out where I am going, where to get off the bus, and generally not having a lot of information about my destination going in. But now, I am stronger and braver, and I can tackle these concerns with little panicking involved.

My last day in Córdoba, I again ventured an hour outside the city to the small town of Alta Gracia, for two reasons. Contained within the city limits was another Jesuit Estancia, and also a Che Guevara museum, housed in one of the many casas Che lived in during his childhood. The sad news is I left the disc containing my pictures of this adventure in Chillán (I stopped by about a week ago with my friend Becca), so the photos of my final Jesuit estancia visit will have to go unshared for the timebeing. But, it was another interesting day of impressive architecture, another beautiful church which was much more gaudy than the other two I visited. The museum also contained explanations and models of the dam the Jesuits constructed, the walls of which still remain and enclose a Jesuit-made lake across the modern street from the estancia. It was cool to see such a well-preserved building amid the bustle of a present-day Argentine town. Some of the rooms in this museum contained 17th and 18th century furniture from past owners of the estancia, and I thought of my dad and Gloria and how much they would have loved to see the antique furniture.

After soaking up the history of Estancia Alta Gracia, I decided to soak up some revolutionary history at the Che Guevara musuem. After a long walk across town under the hot sun, I was exhausted when I reached the museum and didn't really give it the attention it was worth. However, it was interesting to see where Che lived. The walls of the house were plastered with copies of photos of his life, from childhood until death. There were also various props (an old motorcycle in the room dedicated to his Motorcycle Diaries era, for example), but I don't think they actually belonged to Che. I stepped into the back yard to take a break from reading the panels, and ran into Huseign and Debi, a Turkish-Dutch couple I had gone horseback riding with in Ushuaia. I could not believe I was seeing them approximately 3,000 kilometers away and three weeks after our first meeting! We had a fun reunion, sharing travel tips and stories from the road. They treated me to ice cream (the chocolate ice cream in Argentina is unimaginably decadent), then we headed back into Córdoba together and shared a couple Quilmes beers downtown before parting. They are an interesting couple; they met while Debi was on holiday in Turkey, spent two weeks together, she went back to visit two more times, and something like six months later they got married when they were both 22! Usually I scoff at stories like this and think to myself, "Divorce!" but these two seem so at peace with each other and so in love. It was, to be honest, a joy and an inspiration just to be around them. They have invited me to visit them in Holland...if I ever have money again after I pay for this adventure, maybe I will make it happen!

I was really grateful to run into them, since I was winding down my 24 days of solitary traveling and going a little crazy. I sort of didn't want to part ways, but I had to catch an overnight bus back to Buenos Aires because the next day, my best pal from the high school years, Rebecca Ann Fiess, was scheduled to arrive the next day at noon. On the bus, I sat next to an interesting character, a 30-year-old lawyer from Río Grande who I wanted to marry by the end of our 10 hour busride. He could run his mouth for days, and we had similar interests and political leanings. He gave me reading lists of interesting documents and books on Latin American politics and Argentina's Dirty War, we talked about Obama...it was great until a late-game snaffu when I confused "vieja," or mom, with "hija," or daughter, and I asked him how old his daughter was and he went into hysterics because he didn't have a daughter. Oh Lord. Sometimes I can't wait to converse freely with men in my own language. It gets exhausting looking and feeling like an idiot all the time! But the growth is good, it keeps my ego in check. Anyway, I didn't have too long to dwell on my idiocy, since we arrived in BA shortly thereafter and I had to run off. I will always remember him, though, for being the first man I was interested in after things with ____ went south. The road to rebuilding after a heartbreak is tough, but I am pleased to report I am making progress!