Surprise!!!

Thursday afternoon we began the long journey home.  That's right, did I forget to mention we were heading home to the beach cottage for the weekend?  Actually, I didn't forget.  I purposely didn't mention it because...

It was a SURPRISE!!!

The original plan was to be in South America for 6 weeks--back and forth between Argentina and Brazil.  After about a week in Argentina, as plans began to cement and some complications came up with Brazil's import stuff, it looked like we would arrive at a natural break and should plan a weekend "recuperation" trip home.  This was extra-exciting news!  You see, Dad and Mom Sauder had been planning a spring visit to California, and when it turned out to be while we were abroad, all of us were a little disappointed.  Now that we could feasibly be back in good ole' LA that weekend to see them, we decided to make it happen.  And...to keep it a SURPRISE!!!

Through various conversations with Aunt Sue, who also got Grammy in on it, plans were made.  We were scheduled arrive Friday morning.  Grammy would bring Mom down to the beach cities that afternoon, and SURPRISE!!!  Then, that evening, when Dad flew in, we'd go to the airport and, SURPRISE!!!  So fun!  

Well, after another night on a plane we arrived in Miami International Airport...late.  Knowing we were most likely going to miss our connection to LAX, we steeled ourselves and tried valiantly to make a mad dash for luggage and a quick customs event.  We still missed the flight and were put on another flight departing a few hours later.  Okay, so we wouldn't get into LA until afternoon, that shouldn't mess up the SURPRISE!!!

Little did we know as our late plane taxied to the jetway in Miami, that we were in for a SURPRISE!!! of our own!  Glancing through emails, Jonathan read one from Dad with the news that Steven was on his way to Haiti.  Wheels began turning.  Don't Haiti trips usually have a layover in Miami?  We called Steven.  Sure enough, he was in Miami airport along with a dozen other work team folks headed off for a week in Les Cayes.  

So we met up and had breakfast with Steve-o.

We had to take a picture so you all would believe it!

It's not a great picture, obviously.

But it is proof!

He headed off for Haiti, we headed a few gates down to hop on our flight to California.  Turns out, flights across the country can seem just as long as an overnight flight all the way from South America.  LA was smoggy and overcast, but a sight for sore eyes!  Aunt Sue took us home with her since Grammy and Mom were coming down in a few hours.  We were set up for the first SURPRISE!!!  It was wonderful!  No dramatic screams, but mouth-open-wide wonder..."Are you really here?"  Captured for your viewing pleasure below.   The second clip captures the second SURPRISE!!!  Dad was a little more verbal..."No way!!"

Success!

Argentina Randomness

Just some observations...

1.  Apparently mopeds and motorcycles are not obligated to follow the rules of the road.  Well, actually, cars are only minimally required to obey basic traffic laws.  No problem.  Just make sure you look both ways, right?

2.  Speaking of driving safely, speed limits are just a suggestion, passing is pretty much allowed whenever you want, but don't you dare drive without your lights on, even in broad daylight.  That'll getcha' pulled over (speaking from experience).

3.  It stormed and rained yesterday.  Nice treat.

The storm rolling in.

3.  There are giant iguanas.  I almost smashed one today as it wriggled across the road.  There are also funny little creatures that look like squirrels without the bushy tails.

4.  Typical breakfast (okay, really the only breakfast available anywhere): medialunas and café con leche.  Flaky croissant rolls and espresso with milk.  Delish!

5.  While we're on the topic of food...they really like ham.  A lot.  I mean, like, a lot, a lot.  They put ham with cheese on sandwiches (not so weird).  They put ham on pizza (Hawaiian maybe, but all kinds of pizza?).  They put ham on hamburgers (thrown right in there with the other toppings like tomato, lettuce, fried egg, cheese, HAM!).  They put ham on chicken and smother it with sauce ("Is there anything on this menu that isn't swimming in gravy ham?!?")

6.  All hotels have the old fashioned key locks, not card keys.  Fun!!  At first, then it gets kind of tedious to just open the door!

7.  Today we did this:

Look a little counterproductive?

Passing the grain between weight carts,

all in a day's work!

8.  Yesterday, late, driving back from the field, as we drove through what I always think of as the swamp (ponds and lakes beside the road complete with cattail looking things and big fronds of swamp-like fauna) there was mist everywhere!  I loved it!  It felt like driving through a cloud!

9.  People are friendly and wave a lot.  People say "Cómo andás?" in greeting and "Ciao!" when you or they leave, even if they don't know you from anybody.

10.  Late night last night...

Early morning this morning.

Polo!

We decided to stick around the area this weekend instead of traipsing off to some exotic location.  I know, it sounds lame, but we were kind of tired of traveling, we already had to take a road trip this week to the farm show, and Jonathan had a lot of work to finish over the weekend.  

Saturday morning began like every other: out to the field.  

 The grain trucks lining up.  

This is only a few of them, there are probably at least double that down the road.

 Just chilling under the combine.

(Not really, he was measuring some stuff and noting it on his phone.)

We moved hotels for a night because our beloved Miró Park Hotel was hosting a wedding.  The Riviera was quaint.  A vintage wrought iron chandelier hung over the quilt-covered bed.  The floors were dark wood and creaky, but in a homey kind of way.  Jonathan got some work done and I purchased our plane tickets for Brazil.  We head there next week.  You can start praying now.

Today, was Sunday.  A day of rest.  We actually slept in a little!  After a glorious time of worship over café con leche, we met up with José in the afternoon at the polo club again.  As we walked over the manicured grass toward the group of people and horses congregated alongside the playing field, we met Carmen, one of José daughters.  "Where is everyone?"  I asked.  "Over there.  By the horses," was the reply.  "Who's playing polo today?" was my second question.  "Papá."  And sure enough.  José was strapping on his boots and helmet while his um...stable boy, for lack of a better word...held the reins of an impressive looking caballo.  Another one of his daughters, Emma, an aspiring polo player herself, was warming up his second horse (remember, a player uses up to 6 horses per game).

 Emma and Mamita.

 Onto a fresh horse.

 Action shot.

 There's José on the left.

Apparently, polo was not invented by the British, although they popularized it and developed the official rules.  The game actually has its roots as far back as before Christ's life!  The Persians were the first to play the game and used it as a method of training calvary for battle.  It spread east actually into China, India, and even as far as Japan before the British adopted it and began playing in many of their colonies around the world.  Argentina took to it especially well even as early as the 1800s.  

 "I wanna be like Daddy!"

 Toni's well on his way to being an expert polo player!

Next, it was our turn.  Right about now, my girls are cracking up.  I know, I know, I always dragged my feet about riding even the tame little horses at CVE.  There's just something freaky about sitting way up high on the back of the living, breathing creature who could knock you off and trample you without even thinking about it.  I know, the point is, you're in control of the horse, and it's meek and trained to obey its rider.  I've never actually felt that way, though, and usually just avoid the creatures.  

 But, and opportunity like a polo lesson only comes around once in a lifetime, usually.

Let me tell you, added to the challenge of simply controlling your horse, polo is not as easy as it seems. José makes it look so fluid and effortless.  In reality, it's super hard!  It's sort of like golf, but from the back of a moving animal!  And the taco (the polo stick) is really heavy and hard to control!  I had to keep apologizing to my horse for almost smacking her the face.

 Looking good!  We're naturals!

As misleading as the picture appears, I did not actually control my own horse (I'm not as cool as Jonathan.).  Dear Emma patiently led me around and tried to steer me as close as she could to the white ball.  She was so encouraging and sweet as I freaked out every time the horse swished her tail at a fly!  

 I actually did hit the ball a few times.

Only a few feet.  Okay, more like just a few inches.

Well, actually, most times I completely missed.

 Jonathan got pretty good.

Let's just hope he doesn't decide to take up polo, 

I'm not sure 6 horses would fit in the alley behind our apartment.

Emma, my patient teacher.  

She's competing next month in the junior polo tournament.

Overall, I'd say it was a good experience.  And I'm totally convinced that polo really is the "game of kings", as the Persians called it.  It's that classy!  I'm thinking Jesse, the family horseman, should take it up, just to add to our status!  

Another adventure-filled weekend!

A dusty, sweaty week.

After exciting times last weekend, this week's news will probably bore you all to death.  But here it is anyway, faithfully recorded for your reading pleasure.

We hit the ground running Monday morning, no matter that hours of sleep were few.  It was out the door by 8 am.  

 The road out to the field.

This doesn't do the bumpiness and dustiness justice, but it gives you an idea.  We checked in with the guys (the combine operators) and got caught up on how their weekend went.  Rain.  Good for us, we didn't miss anything.  Not so good for them, apparently harvesters don't like to be slowed down.  

It's sort of strange.  Now that the big stuff is done, the installations and explanations, José and Leandro haven't been coming out to the field with us (not to mention they're busy with their own jobs!).  That leaves the translating work to me.  It's been fun, actually.  The guys have been gracious about my lack of technical Spanish vocabulary (Jonathan, not so gracious, was quick to point out when he knew the word for auger cart before I did).  And I've seen just how vital language is to this whole process.  Testing the product really wouldn't work well without the ability to get to know the group who does the testing for you.  Communication is key.  While that makes me feel very needed, I'm a little worried about what Brazil will be like.  I guess that will be a whole different adventure.

Yesterday, we went to Agroexpo, a farm progress show a few hours south.  José had a booth, and we went to do some corporate espionage research regarding planters in Argentina.  Fact: the U.S. has 3 major planter brands.  Argentina has, like, 50.  No joke.  And we went to every single one, got a tour of several of their models, and took hundreds of pictures.  In the hot sun.  At least I got to work on my tan.    Actually, that didn't go so well, sun screen was a complete oversight on my part and we both turned out burnt to a crisp by the end of the day. 

 Standing on a planter.

Thankfully, José's booth was in an air conditioned building.  Very nice.  I recognized that it was the right booth instantly because of the video of Greg Sauder playing against the back wall.

A familiar sight.  "technosem" is the name of José's business.

This wasn't the kind of ag show a lumberjack show, unfortunately, and there weren't any booths with free pens.  But at least there was good meat for lunch.  Speaking of food, we'll be ready to get back to some american food.  Of course, as expected, the meat is really good here, but that's about all they have.  Not much variety at all.  Every restaurant has just about the same menu.  We did find one place that we really like and have eaten there probably ten times.  It's a small place in the middle-of-nowhere farm town we stayed in for awhile.  The waitress was always the same girl about my age with a little girl (her daughter?) about 3 or so hanging around too.  The waitress might have doubled as the cook too; we never saw anyone else.  They always had only 2 choices for the menu, so there was a little more variety.  Looking at that sentence, it makes no sense.  But it's true, I guess the only way to have more variety around here is to have fewer options.  That said, we are getting our fill of milanesa (breaded tenderloin), bife (cut of steak), jamón (ham), white bread, and salad with oil and vinegar.  

Today we're back in good 'ole One-Eyed Deer.  The guys have moved to a different field which is much closer to this area.  Now...on to thinking about weekend plans...

Las Cataratas de Iguazú (Iguazu Falls)

Our weekend away ended with some spectacular views, hot, sticky hikes, and wet, roaring waterfalls!  Saturday evening when we got back from Brazil, we raced to the Falls to hopefully get in a few hours of sightseeing before the park closed in the early evening.  We were also thinking this might be a cooler option than going at, say, noon.  No such luck there.  Pretty sure this is the most humid place on earth.  (Jonathan thinks California has softened me and I'm not properly remembering summer nights in good ole Illinois)

 Our first view of the falls.

I wish the pictures could fully convey the exotic contrast of colors!  The bright shiny greens of the jungle, the bouncing white foam of the water, the black sharp edges of the rock cliffs...

Iguazú Falls are different than Niagra Falls.  While Niagra has the largest single curtain of falling water (or something like that), Iguazú has thousands of waterfalls falling over acres of cliff from the upper Paraná river into the lower in stair steps of varying heights.  

 Many of the walkways had you looking over the edge. Vertigo!

 Rainbow from all mist!

 The jungle.  

Some interesting and quite graphic signs warned us not to touch the wildlife as coatis and monkeys can apparently leave some gory bite marks!  Another sign warned us to stay on the path or else be subject to snake attack (okay, so it didn't say that, but it did say there we dangerous snakes in the nearby trees).

 This is our favorite view.

Once again, it doesn't do it justice.

We came back Sunday afternoon and did the train ride (exactly like Wildlife Prairie Park) and hike out to Garganta del Diablo (throat of the devil).  See all those thousands of waterfalls, some big, some small, some long, some short...now, get this!  Half of the river flow passes on three sides through one spot called Garaganta del Diablo.  Some crazy power in that water!  It roared!  

There's a reason it's one of the seven natural wonders of the world!

 Yes, I'm quite apprehensive. 

You should have seen those graphic warning signs!

They may seem harmless...

It was absolutely breathtaking!  Such exotic beauty!  So much raw power!  I couldn't help but stare in wonder and think, what happened here?  It's like God just raised black rock up out of a rushing river at spectacular heights, and then brought glorious green life out of it all while the river literally pours out endless praise to its Creator!  

You can't help but join in!

Taste of Brazil

Anybody check out where we went?  The northernmost tip of Argentina in a little tourist town called Puerto Iguazú.  So many great adventures this weekend!  It'll take several posts to tell all the stories!

We got in Friday morning and found an awesome little jungle lodge to stay in.  It was like a resort, surrounded by steaming jungle, flowing waterfalls (one right outside our door on the back balcony), and split rock walls.  It was gorgeous and exotic!  Jonathan spent a few hours on work stuff; I spent a few hours relaxing by the pool.  It was hot and humid, and the water felt marvelous.  Jonathan did come join me for awhile!  

That evening, we did a little exploring as we drove through the national park.  We found a huge lake and crossed over a dam.  

 Even all the way out here, if there's data, there are emails to check!

 The lake in the setting sun.

 The jungle and waterfall view from our balcony.

Were were tired from the early morning flight, not to mention the crazy week, but we stopped for a late dinner where Jonathan had to order the Pacú.  Apparently, as a kid, he played some Amazon computer game (like the Oregon trail, but in a canoe down the river) where he had to catch fish to survive, but the trick was to avoid the pirhanas and keep the pacú.  

 Local pacú dinner.

On Saturday, we had business to do.  It was time for the border crossing adventure!

What an ordeal!  If I knew how to say that in Portuguese, I would.  But I don't.  Because I don't speak much Portuguese.  Uh, oh!  Jonathan and I brought one complete harvest system up to Puerto Iguazu, Argentina, with the intent of crossing it into Foz do Igauco, Brazil and delivering it to Charles Zatta, a contractor we'll be working with who lives in a small town about 45 minutes outside the city of Foz.  Beyond just the delivery, the idea was to get a taste of Brazil, see how we would do communicating, and acquire cell phone sim cards.  First stop, the border crossing.  After the ordeal in Argentina when we tried to carry a system in, we were more than apprehensive, but we had all the right documents, and hopefully it was just a matter of paying the duty.  Still, we were fully prepared for the whole rigamarole--hours waiting at the border as a power-hungry guard tried to extract as much money as he could from us in fines.  This was not the case, however.  Not at all.  As we pulled into Brazilian customs, we looked around for declare lane signs, or something like that.  Nothing.  We followed the car in front of us, who pulled past the speed bump, past several little booths all closed off, past a guard in a uniform who payed us no attention...and all of a sudden we were through.  That was it?  We were so confused.  Where do we declare what we're bringing into the country?  Where do we show our well-fought-for visas?  Maybe it's up ahead.  But after several kilometers, it begins to dawn on us.  That really was it.  All that worrying, and that was it.  Well...okay...that was easy.  


 Driving across the bridge over the river that acts as the border between the countries.

Next stop, cell phones.  We went into 3 different stores before we found a certified dealer.  With lots of pointing to our phones and mimicking making a phone call, they got the picture: we wanted to buy chips for our phones.  There was lots of chatter between the employees, they called in a manager.  During this entire interchange, we were utterly lost.  No idea what they're saying.  Every 5-7 words I'd catch something that sounded like Spanish and I could kind of piece together a loose idea of context, but not much.  However, success!  We did walk out of the store with working phones!  We were 2 for 2!  Little did we know the biggest challenge was up ahead!

Leaving the city, it was easy to find our way toward the small town Elias, the English-speaking farm manager we're in contact with, told us was home to Charles.  He couldn't give us an address, but told us to go to the gas station in town and ask for Charles Zatta.  We were starting to see how this could be challenging.  How are we supposed to ask for him?  Does Elias know we're Portuguese-challenged?  Needless to say, it was painful.  We walked in and asked several bystanders and a few employees, "Charles Zatta"?  Confused looks.  Again, "Charles Zatta"?  More confused looks.  Finally, Jonathan has the brilliant idea to show them the name on his phone.  "Oohh, Shas."  Finally, recognition.  The way they say it sounds nothing like how any American would pronounce Charles.  We're given several phone numbers.  At first we can't even get them to work, then we get through, but to no one who speaks English, so we get hung up on.  Finally, the cashier takes pity on us and calls for us.  After the phone call, she rambles on for awhile, but Praise the Lord! our Pimsleur lessons finally pay off and I recall enough to figure out that she's saying he'll be coming to the gas station in one hour.  Perfect.  We leave and find a shady spot to package the system in 2 smaller boxes rather than the giant suitcase.  We shoot an pleading email off to Elias, who soon calls us.  He tries to get a hold of Charles, but he doesn't answer. 

 Packing the system into boxes in the sweltering heat.

We're back at the gas station after 45 minutes.  We wait.  And wait.  And wait.  He's 15 minutes late.  Then 20.  Now it's been 30.  There's a shift change and our helpful cashier is leaving.  She calls Charles again, but there's no answer.  She's nice enough to explain our predicament to the next cashier who also agrees to help us.  We wait some more.  Finally, our new friend, points at a truck that's just pulled in.  That must be him.  We shake hands and in halting Portuguese, introduce ourselves.  We look up the word for package and then show him the 2 boxes labeled: Para John Carroll Family Farms, Brazil.  He asks questions.  We give confused looks.  Then he gets a phone call.  It's Elias.  They have a long conversation during which, I assume, Elias explains what he's supposed to do with the boxes.  After that, we try some more halting Portuguese about how long till he goes to Bahia, Brazil, how long till we arrive there, that we came in a car from Argentina, now we're going back to Argentina...basic stuff.  We shake hands and say thank you.  Actually, I use the masculine form for thank you, and he smiles and pats me on the shoulder, correcting me.  We say thanks to the friendly cashier and retreat back to Argentina where at least I can make heads or tails out of what they're saying.  

 The lovely gas station where we spent so much time!

We might have some interesting Brazil experiences up ahead!  Time to get back to Portuguese lessons!

 Side note: does having 5 different currencies in my wallet make me a world traveler?

See if you can identify all 5!

Any guesses which is most valuable?

We made it back to the Argentina side by late afternoon which left the evening to explore Las Cataratas, or Falls.  Think Niagra Falls, but higher, bigger, more impressive, and surrounded by jungle instead of hotels, restaurants, and gift shops.  Less Orlando-without-the-rides, and more National Park-esque.  We hadn't planned on making this trip up to the border with Brazil, so when the chance came up, we thought it'd be well-worth it to get to see the falls!  But...that'll be a post in and of itself!  

Exhausted

I've spent a good portion of the last few days trying to hold myself together and not fall apart.  It's been a rough week actually.  Nights have been very late as Jonathan doesn't get in from the field until after 8:00 or sometimes 9:00, and with finding food, talking through the day with Justin, making plans for the next day, contacting Precision about the day's challenges, answering emails, having skype meetings...it gets late.  Very late.  I don't do late well.  Especially if the mornings are early ones.  All that's been adding up, and on top of that the stress of making plans--managing flights, trying to nail down our schedule...it's been nonstop and we're just about exhausted.

That said.  It has also been a good week.  It was productive on the work side of things, and it was a study in relying on God, which is why we're here, right?  I told Jonathan, it's my own fault I find myself in this situation: I'm the one studying James.  You see, spending my devotional time immersed in things like, "Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness and let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing."  Well, that just begs some real life experience so it can be lived, not just studied!

We moved from the decently-sized farm town (think Washington, IL) to a podunk-actually-in-the-middle-of-nowhere farm town (think Roanoke).  In the move, we lost some of the luxury we'd had in the bigger town, which was to be expected.  It was still nice, although the water for the shower wasn't more than a trickle, and the wood floors in the hallway squeaked and creaked, and the espresso served with breakfast tasted like instant coffee with milk.

The view out the window of the farm-town hotel.

I debated whether to post this picture (didn't want the moms to worry), but it really gives you a good idea of the town.  Very much what you'd expect in Latin America.

The nice thing about the town is that it was located 40 minutes closer drive to the field we were working in.  And this is one mammoth field!

 Corn as far as the eye can see.

New fact I learned: Argentina is the only country in the world where corn is harvested as early as February!

 Two by two.

They actually had all 3 combines going at once in this field and literally dozens of grain trucks carting it all back to town.  The roads to get out to the field are, of course, dirt so by the end of the day, there was a thick layer of what looked like fog, but was actually dust.  Made for some interesting driving!  

 One of the combines.

 Camp Harvest.

The team literally camps out in the field during harvest.  They have everything from trailers to live in, to a portable shop with all the necessary tools and a generator.  All that gear along with their many auger carts and combines makes for quite the set-up!

Jonathan spent the days out in the field troubleshooting problems and testing the monitor.  Justin was in the field sometimes, other times he was off with José talking business strategy or meeting with Monsanto people helping them understand the ins and outs of Precision Planting.  We had several lunch meetings in town at this quaint little hotel restaurant.

 Hotel Colón.

Yesterday, the day Justin flew out, we knew we had to leave for the airport by 4:00, so it made for a rather busy morning!  We split up to be able to get as much done as possible, and that's why I ended up getting in on the dirty work too.  Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to announce the successful replacement of chain paddles in the clean grain elevator of combine number 2.  I handled that torque wrench like a pro!

Actually, I didn't even do the whole thing.

Some of the operators had pity on me and took over after a while.

That done, Justin said goodbye and we were headed back to Buenos Aires.  It was a good 4 hour drive, but Justin made his flight in time, despite a late departure (always got to keep things interesting)!  Last night we crashed at hotel near the airport for a few hours before flying out early this morning.  

To where? 

Well, that's the great part.  God (and Justin) had mercy and we're taking a weekend off.  Well, sort of, we have some work stuff to do to, but we're doing a little constructive exploration these next few days. But, I'll save that for another post.

Here's a hint: you might have seen my facebook post as we checked into Ezeiza airport.  I said I was flying domestically in a foreign country for the first time.  And I will tell you we headed north to where Argentina borders Brazil, Uruguay, and Paraguay.  Any idea what's there?  Stay tuned!

And please pray for the needed rest and recuperation this weekend before hitting the ground running next week.  

Love to all!