A Slippery Slope in Crag-laden Northwest Argentina pt. 6 of 3

The Argentine bus that I rode had come to a sudden and complete stop, but my sojourn had not. No, I was sure that there were still surprises to come. I strained my neck to look to the front of the bus. Ahead lay fire and a group of men creating a roadblock. Pirates! Well, the men blocking the road weren't as much as pirates as they were radical political activists. But I'll continue to address them as pirates to add to the dramatic elements of my story.

The pirates boarded our bus and I slid my camera under the seat in front of me: "Attention, ladies and gentlemen, we represent Seu Andseu running for office here in Tucuman Provence."

'Wait', I thought, 'why on God's great big ball of mass were we still in Tucuman?' That was still ten hours from Buenos Aires.

"We demand a donation from every passenger to support his campaign," the men began walking down the aisle collecting coins from all the passengers. This was nuts! I was a little excited because I had never been held for ransom by pirates before. Now I can't say that. (Not only because of this bus ride, but also because of my weekend in Somaliland. (Which, of extreme importance to note, is NOT a family-friendly theme park but rather an autonomous region of Somalia with a literal ton of pirates*)) . On the bus, I wasn't nearly as fearful as I was satisfied that, again, more turmoil was added to my journey.

It appeared that God's plan lay right before me in the wrinkled countenance and bad breath of a Tucumani Pirate. I reached into my wallet, 'Oh crap!', I realized, "I don't have any money"[insert the incarnation of a frown-face emoticon here].

Enrique handed them another peso. "No," demanded a pirate who was scowling at me, "what have you got?"

"An empty wallet?" I tried to escape my quandary with humor. No, he didn't like that answer. Damn pirates never laugh at jokes about money, politics or Rabbis I would later find out.

"Fear?" I tried again. No, no empathy towards my situation. The tension rose like mercury on Mercury. In a sly movement, I shifted my seat and kicked my camera further hidden under the seat affront. I searched for anything else to give them. How about an action figure? No, he knew that it was dead. Notes from a friend back home? No, I left those behind. I wish I had brought my chest of golden medallions. I always seemed to forget that when I needed it the most (see: Somaliland mistake).

Finally, providently weighing consequences, I chose not to play with fire. I mean, these were pirates that I was interacting with, and I am no ninja. I unfortunately had to resort to my inference skills rather than my Ninjatō or Shuriken skills. This was a real shame because I can think of no better situation for the use of a ninja star. Notwithstanding this dilemma, I descried** from across the aisle that one of the most brute of pirates was not wearing socks with his alpargatas. A pirate without socks? What gives? Boat decks can get rather damp and slimy, especially to the wavefaring marauder. After an instant's pause, I looked up, shrugged and then carefully rose my foot to offer an unspoken barter: my socks for the toll.

A head nod closed the deal, and Seu Andseu's campaign had a new pair of white Reebok ankle-length gym socks that had been embrowned by the Altiplano dust. I had my life, a ten hour trip ahead of me, slight hunger and the newfound opportunity for athlete's foot. But this was the worst that it could get, right?

[[Right??? Come right back for part 7 of this emotional 3-part Argentine odyssey.]]
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*After a mild case of Stockholm Syndrome, I joined my captors in a rather short lived game of "Biggest Somali Pirate Loser" where we measured our collective weight to be exactly 2,002lbs.

**Do not attempt to use the word "descry" in a pickup line at a bar (or in a pickup line at a whale-watching conference***).

***Do not attempt pick up girls at whale-watching conferences (do not attempt to pick up the whales either, it usually takes a crew and a crane. Mere quixotism and the 'I can!' attitude will not suffice).

Stupid Bamboo Hugger

The following is a Craigslist Apartment Ad that I found in my search for available rooms in Chicago. My response to the ad is below in purple.
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$700 **** Apt. to Share for Female Prof. or Grad. w/Foreign Policy Exp ****

Political junkie seeks female professional or grad student with more foreign policy experience than Sarah Palin to share condo (summer internship in Spain, safari in Africa, scuba diving in France, or vacation in Italy will suffice). No wildlife killers or environmental novices will be considered. Respondents with lip-sticked pit bulls will not be considered. Ideal condo-mate will have registered to vote and be progressive in pursuing change we can believe in. War heroines will be considered, but Bush apologists and rationalizers will not.
New Furnished 3 BR, 2 BA Condo. A/C; DW; Washer & Dryer in Unit; Disposal. Queen Bed, 4 drawer chest, and small TV in BR. Exterior and interior quality finishes. Three bedrooms two baths. Cherry cabinets and cherry and bamboo hardwood floors thru-out! Private balconies. Gas Fireplace. Plenty of street parking. Nice, safe neighborhood. Public transportation and grocery shopping within 1 block; 5 minutes to Blue Line. 20 minutes by car to O'Hare. Near Kennedy Expressway. 3 Blocks from Northeastern Illinois University.
Rent includes utilities. Must like small, energetic dog and be available to care for him infrequently. Responsible, fun, upbeat, reliable, mature, and adaptable to a wry sense of humor would be ideal to share unit with professional, responsible male exec. Please respond with your lifestyle description, profession, contact information, and foreign policy resume. Immediate availability. Small non-barking dogs (under 20 lbs.) o.k.
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My Reponse:

Dear Sir,

I am writing to inquire about the availability of your politically adorned room. However, I write with hesitations. Because of my traumatic experiences in Argentina I am rather fragile and refuse to spend another night with any more junkies. If you can assure me that your political habits can be suppressed when I am at my weakest, (i.e. when I see a photo or drawing of, or real-life Tapir) I will be a little more assuaged.

Having spent an entire year in South America and having taken the opportunity to travel extensively throughout Europe, Asia and Eurasia, I feel that I have more foreign policy than Sarah Palin. In fact, when I traveled to Alaska, I found that most Inuits are confused with Eskimos and that most Eskimos are confused with beavers. This allowed me to realize the xenophobia and stereotyping behaviour of most Alaskans. I feel that Alaskans, overwhelmingly, are alcoholic. So I try my best to stay away from them.

Moreover, I can assure you that I am neither wildlife killer nor environmental novice. I am a friend to all animals (with the lone exception: that damned Tapir). My environmental experience includes but is not limited to: three years as a lawn service employee for H&R Lawn Care. References furnished upon request.

I hope that it is okay that my cousin's neighbor's step-father has a poodle with eye-liner. I do not condone the application of makeup to dogs. Cats though, well, I'd have to gauge the situation and/or brand of makeup. Of course I would never apply makeup to, toss about, or eat your small, energetic dog. If I haven't already mentioned it, I LOVE DOGS! Gee, though, I hope your dog's name is Samuel or Hubert. In my opinion, these are two of the best possible names for canines. I will be able to work with most other names, regardless of the amount of syllables. Just warn me ahead of time if the name rhymes with 'Taupe'. It's better I prepare for that.

You should be excited to hear that I have registered to vote! In fact, I would have made it out to cast my ballot in the last election had it not been for that lousy weather, those lengthy lines or my incredible apathy! I suppose that if I did vote I would have voted against George Bush by striking through that circle next to his name with an emphatic check mark. While I am a friend to animals, I am an enema to George Bush! What a doofus! Are we sure that he's not from Alaska? Or East Timor for that matter?

Honestly, I could care less what the apartment looks like, although, I am pumped to see that you have bamboo hardwood floors throughout. Did you know that Bamboo can grow 30-40 feet per day? Of course you do! It's incredible growth rate makes it a perfectly environmentally friendly choice for all flooring! This is why I chose to line the inside of my Ford F-250 with seaweed because it grows at even quicker rates.

I see that you have two bathrooms, but I have this thing, you know, after my year in South America, where I can't go to the bathroom without someone else in there. Would it be cool to ask to share a bathroom?

Thanks for taking the time to read through my email, you sound like a professional, responsible male exec.

I hope this can work out! Uh, also, being male, I bring along something that no female can bring. That is, a penis. I don't want to go into great length about it, I'll save all those stories for when we share the bathroom together, but after my tapir experience...well, it'll make sense when I show you.

Man, if you can drop that price down from $700 to around $400/month, then we'd really be talking.

Really looking forward to chillaxing, eating sushi and talking about the AIDS pandemic ravaging Sub-Saharan Africa,

Chris

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Note: I am still awaiting reply and will post his reply as soon as it is received.

The Right Direction

A collection of national polls measuring Americans' opinions on whether or not the USA is heading in the right direction confirms wayward fears. An average of 18% of Americans affirm the nation's direction while 75.7% believe we need to change course. The confidence has been cut in nearly half from three years ago when an average of roughly 40% of Americans approved the direction in which their country was heading.

What is shocking to me is that even 18% (let alone 40%) of any group of people can get together, en masse, and affirm a specific heading. Now, this should be very easy in an automobile, when linear travel is most often the norm. One has normally two to four choices of direction upon asphalt. Given the flexibility of an off-road vehicle, a group of people can head in any planar direction. This, in itself, provides limitless direction and as a result, multitudinous dissent (provided no GPS navigation system is provided, (although one would be hard pressed to find an off-road vehicle without at least an iPhone anymore)). Yet, I look at a nation filled with over 300 million legal citizens rather than a Jeep Wrangler with seating for four. Think of a rocket ship, propelled by technological growth, national concern and social change. In what direction can this metaphorical ship head? Any. It has vertical, lateral and longitudinal rotational abilities. Moreover, the addition of a Z-coordinate allows us to head towards any infinite directions in space. Throw in a fourth dimension of time, and, well, you get my point. How can anyone, let alone 54 million Americans agree on a very, very specific vector?

There is an answer and that answer is simpler than aeronautical political science can explain. Americans, in general, believe that any direction "forward" will suffice. The minor directional bearings are assumed to play no large role in national government. Now if we define "forward" as positive movement in relation to one axis governing the "statusquo ", a whole hemisphere of travel is considered "wrong". Without getting too mathematical, the more variables that we restrict with a requirement of positive growth, the smaller our preferred directional course will be. Fitting into that pinhole becomes a more daunting task. Let's simply focus on "positive" spacial growth by moving up the Z-axis. I'll take away the dimension of time by adding another flat plane perpendicular to the Z-axis and call that our "goal". The National Government's job, now, is to reach our "goal" by moving in a forward direction (at a constant rate of speed). If it's direction is just the slightest bit skewed, then it will take calculatedly longer to reach plane "goal". If a backward direction is headed, then it will take either longer or never to reach plane "goal", depending on the value of the variables.

So how does one explain the existence of an estimated 54 million people who agree the United States is heading towards plane "goal"? Clearly it becomes the position of "goal". Some may place it very far away, others, very close. Some make "goal" a coordinate, or point. Some make it non-linear. Some make it so it is not perpendicular to the "positive" Z axis. Others make it an imaginary number (see Marx and Engels).

The only conclusion that I can draw is that while most can agree that the right direction in one with positive growth, there is a finite number of people who just don't seem to care where the nation is heading, as long as Dancing With The Stars is on.