Crossing Borders (Part I.)

I arrived in Buenos Aires on January 16th in the depths of Argentine Summer. I avoided the onslaught of late Winter storms in my native upstate New York and bypassed a Spring semester at Ithaca College.

I had wanted to study abroad for some time, but due to other responsibilities the opportunity eluded me. During my senior year at Ithaca, I resolved to double down and graduate early so I could attend a special study abroad/internship program in Buenos Aires which would act as a bridge between my academic and professional careers. What could possibly go wrong?

— Enter The Coronavirus —

I had been following the outbreak since it went public, but just like so many others, I did not anticipate it to have the profound impact that it has had.

My program in Buenos Aires was/is through the CEA, an international study abroad program. I came here on an early start program that had only four participants including myself. The first two weeks were pleasant and relaxed. We attended an intensive Spanish class Mondays through Thursdays and partied the remainder of the week. I moved into the chic neighborhood of Palermo SoHo which has countless bars and restaurants at every corner. My apartment mate Matt and I would explore the neighborhood and majority of the eastern part of the city. I often brought around my film camera and took snapshots of what I saw along the way.

Following the conclusion of our early start program, a new crop of students joined our ranks. Some went with us to take classes at the CEA center while others took classes at the University of Belgrano. The Spanish intensive class ended and I began my regular classes. The food and wine class was by far my favorite. I also started my internship with Junior Achievement, an education focused NGO. I was recruited with the idea in mind that I would become some sort of multimedia creator for their online platforms. Our trips to bars and boliches (night clubs) intensified.

For our Spring break, myself and two others from the early start crop made plans to travel throughout Argentina’s south, or Patagonia. It was around this time that the Coronavirus was picking up speed with disastrous results and a wave of paranoia. But that was so far away.

We boarded a flight to the city of Bariloche on February 21st. At the airport we rented a tiny stick shift car and set off on a six hour drive through Ruta 63, an unpaved road that runs through the mountainous Lanín National Park to reach our isolated hotel on Lake Huechulafquen. There, news of the impending epidemic that was touching the lives of denizens on every continent did not reach us. If we had any internet, it was slow and operated for only several hours a day. We kayaked on lakes of crystal blue tranquility. This place was paradise.

We then moved southwards to spend a few days in the town of Villa La Angostura before returning to Bariloche to board a flight to make our way further south to the city of Calafate. On the plane ride there we heard a rumor about an elderly woman in Calafate that was infected by the virus. We were dumbfounded that somewhere so distant could be exposed, but we expressed little concern. (We later found out that the elderly woman did not test positive).

From Calafate we took a bus to the trekking capital of the world, Chalten. There we once again had limited access to the exterior world. We hiked up mountains, through rivers, and in between lakes. The only fears we had were getting back before the sun retreated behind the Andes mountain range.

Our last stop was in the southernmost city in the world, Ushuaia. We were near exhausted at this point with all the constant moving, so we resolved to take it easy our last few days. Unfortunately what that meant is that I spent an increasing amount of time on my phone. I was either following the primary matchup between Biden and Sanders or reading about the Coronavirus spread like wildfire. I watched from afar as US stocks tanked and Biden swallowed up all of the states on March 3rd. I became acutely aware of the situation and I began to ponder the outcomes...

Nevertheless, we had a penguin tour to attend. We departed from Ushuaia by bus through the austere Tierra del Fuego wilderness. We were near the bottom of the world. The wind would nearly knock us over during strong gales. The lopsided trees were a testament to the severity of the climate. We took a small boat to an island of penguins where they stood like statues unmoved by our arrival. This would be the last day that my mind was completely off of the Coronavirus.

We returned to Buenos Aires (Ciudad Autónoma de Buenos Aires, CABA) on March 6th to a seemingly unaffected city. The weekend was for relaxing, but I couldn’t resist checking the news every second. The COVID-19 was now in Argentina and the United States was in full meltdown mode. The stock market was in free fall. People were emailing and texting me. I reiterated to them that it was safer in CABA compared to New York state, which had an epicenter of infection festering in New Rochelle.

End of Part I.