Alta Gracia – La Casa de Che Guevara

Date of Entry:  January 13th 2016

Date of Writing:  January 24th 2016, Hostal Empedrado, Mendoza, Argentina

“The revolution is not an apple that falls when ripe. You have to make it fall.”

“At the risk of seeming ridiculous, let me say that the true revolutionary is guided by a great feeling of love. It is impossible to think of a genuine revolutionary lacking this quality.”

“We cannot be sure of having something to live for unless we are willing to die for it.”

Che Guevara,  a revolutionary whose face has somehow turned into a commercial tycoon, emblazoned across t-shirts, posters, mugs and anything else you can imagine.  It’s still weird to me.  No doubt he is a great man, and no doubt he would have been disgusted with the level and shallowness of his own fame nowadays.  Still he is originally from Argentina, and while he was not born here, he spent most of his childhood and teenage years in the small town of Alta Gracia, just 40 minutes drive from Cordoba.  And since My flight to Mendoza with Aerolineas Argentinas (65 Canadian Dollars)  isn’t until about 6 pm I’ve decided to make a quick visit to the town, which is also home to some impressive jesuit missions.

I head to the mini bus terminal in Cordoba’s center and buy a ticket which at 37 pesos is pretty expensive for a 45 minute ride, and then relax as we weave out of the hectic city and into the fresher country air.  This air was the reason for Che coming to Alta Gracia, as a child he suffered from Asthma and so his parents decided to move the family to Alta Gracia, a summer retreat for the rich, where the climate and air were cleaner and drier and would be better for little Ernesto’s health.

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The bus lets me off at a plaza with some fun statues and after asking a few people I get pointed towards the main plaza of the town which is a lot nicer than I expected overall and gives me a very positive feeling as I walk through the main shopping street of town seeing lots of people chatting and smiling.  A friendly police officer directs me to the tourist information station charmingly built into the bottom of a huge clocktower right beside the main plaza.  Here I get my map to go find the house which Che grew up in which was turned into a museum less than 20 years ago.

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There I get a map of the city and an explanation of the best way to get to Che’s house, checking my watch and realizing I don’t have as much time as I’d like.  Still I take a few minutes to head out of the clocktower and check out the ruins of the missions, sections of which have been converted to a museum, from the outside only, the blue sky aiding in making the photos stand out.

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Wishing I had more time for them, I leave the ruins behind and head through a charming green park with a small artificial lake in the middle of it, walking as quickly as I can in the considerable heat and crossing the park following my map to Che’s house.

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I head up through the wealthy looking homes of Alta Gracia, pleased to see that many buildings are still covered in Politically motivated graffiti, some of the local youngsters no doubt taking some inspiration from Che.  The houses themselves are often interesting and very impressive.  It’s strange in some ways to think of Che coming from such an aristocratic background but he absolutely did and any doubt of that is wiped from my mind as I pass a the Sierras casino where all the rich of Alta Gracia have congregated for many many years

I follow the signs struggling up an  incline in the oppressive heat and am relieved when I get there.  I pay for a student ticket 40  but the standard entry fee for non Argentineans is 75 ARS.  It’s decently pricey if you’re not that interested in Che considering it is really a house with a few rooms of Che’s belongings and lots of cool photos as such, but for me I’m glad to be here.

The museum is certainly well organized and you get plenty of information about Ernesto’s early life as well as his later more known days.  It even has the same model of motorcycle used by Che during his travels throughout Latin america which are artfully captured in the movie The motorcycle diaries, which I highly recommend you check out.  The museum is set up so that you walk through Che’s life from a young child until his sad end captured and executed in Bolivia fighting with other revolutionaries.

I continue through the museum and come to a room dedicated to the 2008 visit to the museum by both Fidel Castro and Hugo Chavez, two gigantic figures of human history.  It creates an odd feeling to know you are standing in a room not only where Che Guevara grew up, but where Fidel and Hugo once came to remember they’re murdered friend.

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The museum also provides a poignant look back at South American history much like my time in Santiago.  Now the vast majority of South America is fairly modern and free, not to say that there are not major problems within each country, but the political state reminds me more of Canada than it does of certain places in Asia I’ve visited, and politics here are relatively stable and largely democratic.  this wasn’t always the case though, and all throughout vey recent history different parts of South America have been in political turmoil, countries often ruled by harsh dictators, immense and difficult revolutions needed to restore freedoms to the level I see now.  It would have certainly been fascinating to travel and see south america back then, though I’m sure it also would have been endlessly more dangerous too.

I think coming from Canada I’m very guilty of taking so much of the freedom and ease of life we have always had in my lifetime for granted.  I’ve never known anything else and so I suppose it’s understandable, but the more I travel the more I realize that throughout history the level of stability comfort and freedom I’ve had all my life is hardly the rule and probably closer to the exception throughout history, and South America is no exception, even if things are better now.  Because I’ve been lucky enough never to really experience true strife beyond the personal realm it’s hard to imagine just what people went through, and the magnitude of what Che was fighting for, and sometimes I think it’s good to reflect and acknowledge how little of the realities of that type of life I can possibly understand.  And of course while today in the majority of South America things are not so bad, different regions of the world suffer different problems and I do frustratingly little to help.  That nagging worry won’t seem to leave me entirely, because travel is amazing, but to a certain extent it’s also certainly selfish. Anyway, I’m glad I’ve chosen to visit, because these are the kinds of questions and realities I think it is important to consider.

I continue out to the backyard where there’s a statue of the adult Che sitting on a bench as well as a movie interviewing his friends families and teachers playing on a loop which provides more background on the man behind the t-shirt logo, or you know the man behind some of the most impressive revolutionary movements in modern history.  there’s also tons more photos of Che and his colleagues peppered throughout the museum.

Perhaps the most impressive part of the museum, no I’m joking though I did enjoy it, was the bathroom, restored to how Che would have known it, though they frustratingly have some strange rules about not using it.  Can you imagine?  Taking a crap in Che’s toilet, now that would justify an even higher entry fee.

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Running out of time I head out of the museum, toilet unused and hurry back through the hot streets to a corner where I can grab the bus back to Cordoba in time for my flight to Mendoza, one of the most famous regions in the world when it comes to wine, but of course I can’t drink.  Still I’m sure I’ll find stuff to do.  Let’s wrap up the entry with a few more quotes from the immortal spirit of the revolution, spoken through the lips of Che.

“One has to grow hard but without ever losing tenderness.”

“Let the world change you and you can change the world”

And finally my favourite Che quote relating to travel : “What do we leave behind when we cross each frontier? Each moment seems split in two: melancholy for what was left behind and the excitement of entering a new land.”

 

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Wandering in Cordoba

Date of Entry:  January 12th 2016 Date of Writing:  January 24th 2016,  Hostal Empedrado, Mendoza, Argentina. One of the strangest...

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