Pandora's Other Box: A Week End in Rio Cuarto, Argentina…

There were times in Argentina which were truly special. This weekend was one such moment. It started as a would-be routine visit to one of our member banks; it ended up being a weekend with friends. A slice of life in a then smaller (than today) city in the Argentinean Pampas called Rio Cuarto…

-“Tenemos que ir a Rio Cuarto este jueves; hay una reunión importante el Viernes en la mañana…”

-“We have to go to Rio Cuarto this Thursday; there is an important meeting Friday morning”.

I was greeted with these words as I walked into my office one Tuesday morning, some 3-4 months after we had started the actual sales of our product. The bank in Rio Cuarto had become an important point of sales as well as an important ally with our board of directors. The bank representative on our board, we’ll call him Francisco, had proven to be a very helpful, down to earth person. He understood the synergy necessary to make our project work and had his people at the bank fully committed to cooperate. The results were already beginning to show in a sales curve which was very much on the increase.

This trip meant some road time, since we would be going in my trusty horseless carriage. It was a 500+ mile jaunt (this local bank being the second furthest from Buenos Aires) and back in the 80’s the roads we would travel to get there were not exactly Interstate quality; this meant slower going than we would have liked. We would leave Thursday afternoon, stay overnight along the way and get there Friday for the 10:30am scheduled meeting. I was actually looking forward to meeting up with my friend Francisco in his home turf; it would be good to know the dynamics of the town and its people.

Las Pampas in central Argentina are sort of like the KA/OK/TX plains in the US: never ending. Everything grows there and some of the larger cattle ranches may well be bigger than some of our smaller states. Our route Thursday took us directly into these lands. The winding roads were a fountain of never ending long views of land, small virgin forest like patches, cattle, fruit tree farms and, once in a while, people... and more cattle. The grandeur is unique; one feels the immensity of nature and the smallness of man. Our plan was to sleep at Venado Tuerto (literally: One Eyed Deer), a wayside town with a couple of hostels and about 175 miles from our destination. On our arrival, the only available rooms were in the smaller hostel, built somewhere around the early part of the century. As I drove my car into the dark, earth packed parking area, the spot next to me taken up by a small flat bed truck which, to my surprise, seemed to rock on its own. As curiosity won and we walked over, we heard a very loud OINCCC!!! which scared us half to hell. The sole occupant on the truck bed was a huge (and I mean, HUGE) porker, on its way to the county fair to be auctioned off. Welcome to the countryside…

At around 10:15 Friday morning we did make it into the bank at Rio Cuarto; Francisco and his band were there waiting for us. The purpose of the meeting was to review a good first quarter, send off the second quarter activities and work with the sales group in honing their skills. That took the rest of the day, well into late afternoon. At about 7:30 pm Francisco said: -“Se quedan por lo menos hasta manana, no?” –“You’ll stay at least through tomorrow, right?” Richard, my travel partner began to answer that he had to be back in BsAs Saturday night, to which I said: “Well, make it Sunday night”.

It turned out Francisco had planned a full day for us, to take advantage of the city, its people and the beautiful weather (Fall was just beginning to show its face) we were having. That night we had dinner at his house, and shared a few bottles of the red wine for which Argentina is justly famous. As we were leaving for the hotel, he simply said –“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 10am”. “Where are we going, I asked…?” he just smiled and said: ”You wanted to see the city, right?” I said “Sure”, never anticipating what he had in store for us.

At 10 sharp he was at the hotel door and we headed, not into town as we expected, but towards the outskirts. After a bit of this, I asked: “Where are we going?”… “you’ll see in a minute or two”, he answered. As he was finishing saying this, we turned into what looked like a clubhouse with what seemed to be a long picnic area behind it. We got out of the car and as we walked around the building, we came face to face with a couple of single engine planes. We were at the Rio Cuarto AeroClub. As we stood there, he smiled and said: ”-Well, the best way to do sightseeing in such a short time is from the air”… -“mount up!!”. It turned out he was a private pilot in-training (not yet 100% qualified, but his instructor came along) and this was his means of relaxing. Richard was not too sure and stayed behind at the club’s cafeteria; I love flying so up we went. He was right; the views were beautiful and we circled the city a couple of times, as well as went out into the surrounding country areas. In the distance, there was a range of mountains and Francisco said “There is a beautiful lake by the mountains and that’s where I take my family for picnics every so often; it’s about one hour flying time from here”.

This special flying guided tour was followed by a full afternoon parrillada (barbecue, Argentinean style) at his week-end place, with his family and a few friends from the bank and/or town. As if this wasn’t enough, that night we were treated to an open air tango and milonga concert at the town plaza. Long and tiring, but what a most beautiful day!!

What actually struck me the most is that all this happened because Francisco wanted to truly show his town; where he had been born and raised, and a town he was justly proud of. He was a very efficient and productive senior officer at the bank, where he had started some 17 years before as a clerk; in fact, he had been offered to head the operations in Buenos Aires, a financially important position, but he had turned it down. We talked about this that night (we had become friends through our business relationship) and his only comment to me was: “after seeing what is there to be lived in this city, do you understand why I want to stay and see my children grow here?” There was nothing to say, he was totally right. He had chosen a lifestyle which was good for his family, giving him more time to spend with them (he lived a mere three blocks away from his office) and giving them a quality of life which would be very difficult to maintain in the big city. He was an example of a person making a very unselfish decision, so as to give his family a better chance.

Money is not an absolute goal… It is really just a tool we need to use in order to attain those personal goals which are truly important. Francisco totally understood this; my respect for him grew accordingly. I knew that his current position, locally important, was a lesser one than that which he had turned down. He was happy with his choice, and so was his family.

A personal post card from Rio Cuarto, Argentina; early fall 1987.

Be Well… Be Back!!