We stayed with the Vieiras in Jundiai, lovely! Shopping with Eryka and some cousins in a mall. McDonalds soft serve is ten times better here than in LA.The following day, we were taking a 16 hr bus ride from Sao Paulo to Iguacu, so it seemed smart to look for a bookstore and books in English.
Salesperson: "English...hm...eh, here."
Me and Ian looking at the shelf increduously- the whole world speaks English, right? "Um, es todo?"
Salesperson looking expectantly, "Yes."
A grand total of four books in English: 2 Harry Potters (Ms. Rowling should be proud, and Kindra it seems appropriate for you to share in the glory), a 2007 guide to movies, and a book about vampires and fairies wreaking revenge (or something along those lines, Ian?)
I was overly ambitious and later, carsick and dizzy on the bus, regretted buying a collection of Edgar Allen Poe stories in Portuguese.All in all, the Vieiras' hospitality floored me. I hope they come to LA sometime so the favor can be returned.
Foz de Iguacu: three times the volume of the Niagara Falls! When we arrived on the Argentinian side, it was an unusually warm day and thousands of butterflies flitted over the sparkling water. Yah. We rode through the subtropical forest (Bobby, I thought of you as we learned about the thousands of species of plants, among then three types of indigenous bamboo, all photosynthesizing happily), took a boat up the river, went under the falls.
Rainbows were everywhere, sometimes double, and often nearly coming full circle at your feet. I was glad for Ian's company and sweet camera. Sadly my four year old 4.0 megapixel one (so cool four years ago) was not quite up to the task of capturing it all! We walked through chilly spray to see the Devil's Throat, a huge roar where you can't even see where the waterfall ends for the mist. 
Sunday in Buenos Aires Jet and I went to meeting at the Goodridges' though their numbers were small for the special meetings, and then to El Tigre Delta and spent the day with Esteban, Maria Sol, Daniel, Florentia, and Claudia, boating on the water by beautiful homes and past kayakers, and passing a mate gourd around. Claudia was stopped by a flamboyant street performer to be a part of his show, to be a 'flying woman.'
And finally, to remember that it isn't all fun and games, some graffiti I stumbled across while lost on the southwestern side of the city. Uncle Sam manically clasping...can it be...South America to his chest? And eyes crying blood for the nuclear weapons they see.It's been a tense few months in Argentina, with the working class growing restless for the retenciones, or special taxes, the government has imposed. The excitement peaked on Tuesday, at two huge rallies in the city. I went to the farmers' rally, and squeezed my way through the tens of thousands of people who had come from 'el campo' to voice their indignation at President Kirschner's policies. I had to climb a telephone pole to see. The flag vendors had a heydey, and emotions ran high-- to my right was a little old farmer with a big voice, carrying a huge red banner. Still get shivers remembering the 'Argentina! Argentina!' chants. Everyone was swept up in the moment-- los hijos, los padres, los ancianos-- the children, the parents, the grandparents.
