Weekend Excursion: David Doremus

As two holidays approached to create the long weekend, Martin de Güemes on Friday, flag day on Monday, Nacho’s family decided to take me to their farm. I did not know what to expect, I had  never lived or worked on a farm before. I imagined that his Argentinian family had some surprises for me, and I was right. We were up early Friday to take on the long car ride to the farm. For nacho and I, the trip was quick as we slept the whole way. We arrived at noon with hot empanadas awaiting us, and they were “muy bueno”, a phrase I find my self using quite frequently here. A tour around the farm followed the lunch and I was able to see how big and beautiful their second home was. We saddled the horses and we rode around the large amount of farmland they had. My horse’s name was “come-caminos”. I soon found out why they called her that as she ate everything in sight, and I mean everything. From hay, soybeans, to an old tree, it was all fair game for the horse. We relaxed for a bit outside after with snacks, games, mate, and talking with one another. I took out the drone and got some great video of the landscape surrounding the farm, a nice new way for Nacho’s family to see the farm. An Argentinian card game of “Jodete” followed dinner, and we headed to bed after. Just like every other morning in Argentina, I ate breakfast with the family but Nacho’s father told me that they would put me to work that day, “Perfecto” I said, not knowing what they had in mind. I put on my farm clothes and followed them out the door. Awaiting for us were a couple of Nacho’s father’s workers who had gathered up all the cows with their “one of a kind” calls. There were many cows all in one place, something very different for any kid from Boston. We then worked the ring to weigh the cows who seemed under weight, so far so good. Then, his father says that their were five or six cows that we needed to cut the “juevos” from. “Huh,” I said, “you don't mean their testicles do you?” “Por sopuesto!” he answered. I was a bit shocked, but like every other activity in Argentina, I went in with an open mind. The first cow was lined up and roped at the neck, the gate was opened and the worker whipped back the cow like a pro as another worker kneeled on its neck on the ground. As for me, I had the worst job and held the bag as I watched the man cut the balls and throw them at me like it was a tennis ball. I have been a meat eating lover my whole life, but watching that happen made me question why I am. Nacho took the next cow and was overpowered by it as the roped slipped from his hands leaving nasty looking gashes in them. It was then my turn and I successfully whipped back the bulls neck and brought it to the ground. After all the cows nuts had been cut off, they said it was time for me to ride one, like a bull. We brought a cow to the ground, tightly wrapped a rope with my hand underneath, and I rode off like a rag doll as I fell to the ground. After lunch we went hunting for amarillos on horses as the other workers rode on a tractor hooked up to a water tank. We looked for holes in the fields and flooded them with water, as the amarillo came up for air, we grabbed them by the tail and threw them in the bucket. I thought of it as the farm version of fishing, you need patience, and it is a lot of fun when you finally get one. After a long day and more horse riding, I had some much needed sleep. The next day we mounted the horses but I upgraded to a new, more advanced horse, for I was an expert by then. After a long ride, we came back to a nice big asado lunch, one of my favorite meals here in Argentina. It was big spread of all kinds of meats, including the “jeuvos”, something I dreaded to end up having to eat. The large testicle stared at me in the face as it sat on my plate, everyone laughed as I was quite hesitant to take a bite. Like every other situation I have been faced with here, I embraced the culture and took a nice big chunk and said. “muy bueno”. It really was quite good, but the thought of what I was eating contradicted the taste. We then headed out for another long horse ride, visited the cows who were in the highlands, everything was beautiful and we had a great time. On the way back we also saw the ten or so bulls that he had. They were huge, magnificent creatures. One bull that they called the “bad bull” went face to face with Nacho’s father who took out a red jacket and waved it around like he was a torero. Although it was a little scary as the bull kicked the dirt and looked as if it would charge, it was also very funny and his father ended up winning the stand off. We left early the next morning for the house back in the city to wrap up our farm trip. This was one trip I truly will never forget. The farm had taught me many life lessons and the one thing I would want to tell any kid heading somewhere new is, “do not be afraid of change, and always have an open mind before coming to a conclusion, even if it means eating some ‘juevos’”.