the border crossing

As soon as I clicked the "Publish" button on my last post, I realized I had forgotten to include one of the more exciting and bizarre events of the week...getting back into Uruguay from Argentina.

One of the issues dominating the headlines of Uruguayan and Argentine newspapers alike is that of the "papeleras." The story, basically, is this: after Argentina rejected the plans for an international paper company to build a factory on the Argentine shore of the Uruguay River (the river that forms the border between Argentina and Uruguay), Uruguay accepted the offer. The company, together with the Uruguayan government, is developing plans to build the factory on the shore of the river, not far from my humble home of Salto. Consequently, there is now a significant amount of hostility between Argentina and Uruguay, motivated by either the factory's pollution of the Uruguay River, or, perhaps, more political factors (exactly why Argentina rejected the company's offer and now criticizes Uruguay's acceptance of it is debated). This political cartoon expresses the commonly accepted Argentine side of the argument:



This whole conflict didn't really affect me, until I decided to come back to Salto from Buenos Aires. In opposition to the building of the factory, groups of Argentines have taken to cutting off the bridges that connect Uruguay and Argentina. When I bought my bus ticket from Salto to Buenos Aires, I was warned that the bridge between Salto and Concordia, Argentina, would be cut during the entire week of Semana Santa, but I decided the trip was worth it, and I would take the risk. If all else failed, supposedly there was a ferry that could get me across.

That wasn't really the case. Fortunately, the bridges hadn't yet been cut when I left Salto for Buenos Aires. The situation had changed, though, by the time I needed to return. At 6am last Sunday, my bus from Buenos Aires stopped in Concordia, and left me at the bus station there. The bridge was still cut, and the bus wouldn't be allowed across. The sun hadn't yet come up, so, in the dark, I started asking around about whether a ferry could take me across the river, or if a taxi driver would drive me. Finally, I found a man who offered to drive me as far as he could.

The ride lasted about 30 minutes, and, finally, we drove up to the entrance of the bridge, across which a group of people sat, flying a large Argentine flag. What I had heard was correct--no one was crossing the bridge. Right there, in front of the protesters, the taxi driver told me that was as far as he could take me, so I paid him and wished him a good day.

Exiting the taxi, and standing face-to-face with the protesters prompted one of the most awkward and bizarre emotions I've felt. Were the protesters going to attack me, or just give me a customary greeting? I wasn't sure whether to walk up to them and ask permission to walk across, or to just ignore them. So I ignored them. I walked past, and, since they didn't say anything, I just kept walking. It was a lonely walk, but I was just happy not to have rocks thrown at me. About 15 minutes later, I arrived at the customs office.

I don't think the handful of officials there were expecting to have any visitors that day, but they didn't have a problem stamping my passport and saying, "welcome to Uruguay!" I smiled, thanked him, and walked away. Then I came back and asked if he could call me a taxi. It would have been a long walk to Salto.

Thirty minutes later, I was in my room, safe and sound. I fell into bed and caught up on sleep, grateful to have successfully arrived in Salto. Once I had rested, I thought back on the experience, and realized how political many of these issues really are. In the newspaper articles that cover the papeleras, the group cutting the bridges is made out to be a big, intimidating bunch of rabble rousers, as these pictures reveal:





In reality, there were a total of ten people blocking the bridge, chatting, sipping mate, and affecting trade, tourism, and general transportation. I am not entirely sure why the Argentine government would allow this to happen, but it does. Such is Latin American politics, I guess.

If you would like to read more about the conflict, please see this article from the BBC:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/hi/spanish/business/newsid_6518000/6518363.stm