El Garganta del Diablo (pt. 1 of 3 of my musings on Iguazu)
Again, I’m about to begin one of my post with my seemingly obligatory “sorry this blog is late blah blah blah” remarks, but this blog is especially late, and I really am sorry that I took so long between updates (this is directed to the approximately 4 of you that actually read my blog regularly). Anyway, this week;s reason for tardiness is that not only have my classes have amped up quite a bit, but my folks (2 of my ~4 regular readers) have come to Argentina and I’ve spent a lot of time during the last few days with them. We’ve gone out to lovely dinners in Palermo and with my host family
But sappiness aside, what having my parents around really means is ADVENTURE! My family loves to take crazy trips together, for this trip the plan was to spend some quality time in one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen, Iguazu Falls. This place is like nowhere else I’ve ever been, and it makes my creative juices start to pump nonstop. So, in light of the falls, for the next few posts, I’m going to eschew my typical stream-of-consciousness blog style, and instead present to you “Writings from Iguazu”, where I’ll post a new poem or bit of prose (or “Poem-like Creation”) from each day that I am here. Sound like fun? Good! Here’s day one: “El Garganta del Diablo”.
(Author’s note: Due to the necessary approval process of my employers, these blogs will likely not be published exactly on the day that they were written, so I’m sorry about the incongruence. Just for completeness’ sake, I was in Iguazu from the 12th to the 15th of April.)
(Author’s note 2: I know I promised y’all Uruguay, and I assure that Uruguay will be my next post following my artistic stab into recounting my experience in Iguazu)
El Garganta del Diablo:
There is nothing quite like the feeling when you stand over the throat of the devil. The wind is his voice, rushing past you, through you, tugging at your hat as well as your heart and gently imploring you to, “come just a biiiit closer”. The water is his blood. It rushes and roar around you, their power both inspires you to live fully and terrifies you of about the possibilities that such a life would entail. The falls themselves are his body. I could spend two lifetimes staring at it, my eyes exploring every nook and cranny, perplexed by the constant rhythm and motion.
The throat is a place of abrupt change. It is a step of a staircase of a giant. It is flat ground that abruptly becomes a sheer face, and it is the river above plummets suddenly to a torrential pool below. It is the wind that howls, the edges the beckon, the vistas that capture. Yet despite its name, the throat of the devil is a place sent from heaven. Because from within the pool of chaos there forever blooms a rainbow.
Also, for all who are curious, this is the Garganta del Diablo (sorry I can’t post my own pics; my camera ran out of battery and I left my charger in Buenos Aires. D’oh!)