Two Short Stories: Iguacu Falls & The Robbers of Buenos Aires

The Gulping Waters of
Iguacu Falls
[Brazil, Argentina]



[April, 2007] Advance: “It was not an agreeable two days, rather two days of rain, and my wife and I were on two sides of the great falls, called Iguacu, one part in Argentina, the other in Brazil. We flew into the area from Lima, Peru.
“Like most of my trips, I had studied the falls, its height, its volume, its dimensions, and it proved to be the greatest falls in the world. Some three hundred feet high, over four hundred thousand liters of water per second, close to two miles circumference.
“And so here we were for three days and two nights, and from here we’d fly into Buenos Aires, for another three nights, which would be my second time in that city.
“But Iguaçu Falls, is really likened to the Great Wall of China, with its massive 240 plus falls linking it into a great circle, stretching and dazzling the length of the eye. The stone walls of the falls are also likened to the Great Wall of China, bold and powerful looking. And when you walk these walls, or rather, cliffs, you get the chilly breeze crossing over and under and around your body, slapping your face, legs and arms with its water, you cannot avoid it, fight it or hide from it, but it feels great.
“It is as if God himself, fell on his elbow and left a big dent in the earth, and thus, created the greatest falls the world has ever seen.

[The Hotel] “My hotel wasn’t much to talk about except the buffet in the morning and evening. What they lacked in room service, and accommodations, they made up for in food, free food, and quite the assortment. The bed was one foot from the floor, and the floor had spider webs all around the bed, under it, on the ceiling, and it was suppose to be a three star (we asked for another room and got it), I think it was perhaps, some fifty years ago, a three star. But my wife, Rosa wolfed down the assortment of meats, fruits and greens from the buffet, ensuring we got our money’s worth. Our hotel was in Iguaçu city, Brazil. There was only water in the refrigerator, but no heat for the cold room, nor was there a bar, nor was there a safe, nor was there anything beyond the basic necessities. One has to keep an eye on the Tourist Companies in South America, they will give you the slap, and pocket the rest of the money, and say, “Oh, I didn’t realize it, I’m sorry.” But you know what you can do with your ‘sorry’; they all think a sorry fulfills the requirements of bad service.

[From my notes/4-26-2007] “We did make it (to Iguacu) as you may well have figured out, and I even had time to write a second poem, seven hours after seeing ‘Devil’s Throat,’ (a horseshoe rounded falls, part of the falls) on the Argentina side of the falls; but with fewer problems than what we’ve been having. The poem is called ‘Gulping Waters of Devil’s Throat,’ It is 12:10 AM, I woke up after arguing with the man that picked us up after leaving, Buenos Aires, picking us up at the airport in Iguacu City, and drove us to the falls, unwillingly drove us, because we came in thirty minutes late. What a day, two planes, two taxies and a train to get here, to get to the falls. And now it is raining cats and dogs. There is a metal walkway that goes from one point to the edge of the falls, some ten blocks, the closer I got to the falls, the faster I walked, I really got excited. By the time we left the falls, and got to the hotel, I was soaked from head to toe. And in addition, the Hotel smells more like a zero star hotel; we told them to wake us up for our free breakfast.

[The Falls & Dam/4-27-2007] “The day was long again, our guide has to be the most laziest one I have yet to experience in all my world travels, and they have been 700,000-air miles up to this point; he just doesn’t want to do a thing, trying always to talk us out of doing what is on our agenda. Had we left it up to him, we would have remained in the hotel for the whole trip. The falls were great today, went to the Brazil side, under the falls, yesterday it was on top of the falls, in Argentina. It is the number one falls in the world, and makes Nigeria Falls, look like a baby compared to its parent, Iguacu.

“Rosa and I, went (and our lazy guide) also went to the Dam (Itaipu), which produces 22% of Brazil’s energy and 90%, of Paraguay’s: I had found out the dam was the most powerful in the world, between the two countries. And an engineering wonder of the modern world. The steel in the dam is equal to 80-Effil Towers.


“Anyhow we made it through the day, and I finished readying Sylvia Plath’s only novel, “The Bell Jar” on this trip.”


The Gulping waters of Devils Throat
[A Poem about Iguazu]


It gulped, gulped and gulped
Like the insides of a throat—
Clashing upon layers!

Constricting, dashing, sinking
Into the great spiral
Called: the Devil’s Throat…!

The massive contents
Of four hundred thousand litters
Of water, per second, over the falls,

Emptied, and swallowed
At this very end—; gulping
And clashing, upon layers!


Written 12:15 AM; 4-26-2007
#1798 (Brazil)





The Rateros of Buenos Aires


[April 27-29, 2007: taken from notes written at the time] Advance: not sure where to start this story, but I’ll try to make it chronological, linked to Iguaçu Falls, for once we left Iguacu City, we caught a plane to Buenos Aires, and got another three star hotel. There we had steak at a number of places and enjoyed the little sun left in this city, entering its fall period. The Hotel was better than the one in Iguacu City, in that it was cleaner, but the buffet, Rosa missed. We went to a musical also, and Rosa loved it, called “Sweet Charity.” But on the 28th of April, things changed from a happy vacation to an unforgettable one.

Notes: “It happened around 3:00 PM, 4-28-2007 (I am writing this now in the hotel, in the evening, several hours later). Rosa and I took a taxi to visit the Russian Orthodox Church on the other side of the city, somewhat, or so it seemed, from where our hotel was. Everyone was telling Rosa how safe the city was, thus we put our guard down, a mistake for sure. In any case, after taking some pictures from the park, and shopping at the little venders throughout the park by the church, we started to walk toward 9th of July Street, finding out it was above us, and thus, we took the lower side road, as it blended into the 9th of July, about a mile down the road.
“This story may be a little zigzagged, because I wrote it down at the time, I mean in the evening, several hours after the event, and things were a bit foggy, but I will reproduce it as it is, for I can’t really recall it, now, moment for moment. We were walking down the street, it looked kind of mysterious, a few cafes, and a few folks sitting here and there, suspicious looking. I was kind of looking for a taxi, but none came by. And when we came to a cross street, I didn’t grab a taxi, because it was going west, and I wanted to go North, so I figured it was another four blocks to the intersection of where the 9th of July street would blend into this side road, so we crossed the street, three young men were sitting on the curve. One about five foot nine inches tall, 170 pounds, the other about 130 pounds, perhaps five foot six inches tall. The third, perhaps 185 pounds, about six feet tall.
“They now were in front of us, and Rosa said to me, “They look like those robbers (so and so mentioned).”
“A moment after she said that, the robbers said “Now, Now, let’s do it!” and they turned around, I quickly looked at Rosa, we had made a complete stop, and I said, “Run, Rosa Run!” But it was too late; she had two of the fellows around her. She held onto her purse, and crotched downward; she would end up with bruises on her arms and legs, but she held to that purse for eight to ten minutes; as I fought off and on the three robbers.
“The tall one came at me, I pulled my pen out tried to stab him, and he backed off, Rosa called for help, and I tried to get to her, and one of the two men pulling the strap of her purse came to help the big guy, his arms now around mine, and the other guy pushed me off balance, so he could go back and assist his friend, I gave the big guy a back punch, and he let go, and Rosa called for help again, and I ran to her, and again one of the two assailants had to let go to fight me, and I kicked and punched, but the big guy now was in back of me, and again I fell off balance, and my pen broke, not sure if I stabbed the assailants, or if one broke the tip off so I could not stab them, they were fearful I might say.
“I was free for a minute, and I screamed to anyone that might be passing by, and there was a woman watching up the block (I would find out later, she and her husband came by in their car, stopped a block away, the husband remained in the car as she watched the continuation of the show, two cowards).
“Anyhow, I went back to Rosa, to fight the two other men, because the big guy was now several feet away, and he jumped on my back again, and someone twirled me, and I flew into the street. I got back up and ran after them; they jumped over the fence, and were gone with my wife’s purse in hand.
“The police came, saw them running, and he ran after them to the train station, but could into find them, or did not want to find them.
“The lady who watched, talked to Rosa thereafter, neither one of us hurt badly, Rosa’s glasses broken, and my knees cut up. She seemed concerned, but why did she not stop the car by the robbers and honk the horn, or do something other than watch the show. The husband would not get out of the car, and I’m sure he was embarrassed of his wife watching and doing nothing.”

In conclusion, I suppose I can think of it as my last great fight, at 59-years old. On one hand it felt good to punch away on a few robbers, I think they got the worse of it, yet we lost $37-dollars, a $115, camera and some nice pictures of Iguacu Falls.