Iguazu Falls

BCS Argentina

Iguazu Falls

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Twenty-five hours on the bus may seem like a very long time, especially when a cold is incubating among your fellow travelers, but the cramped, steamy quarters quickly evaporated from our memories with the arrival in Iguazu. There, host families awaited eager to tell us about the wonders of their home town. Just outside the town, a rainforest preserve guards one of the Seven Wonders of the World, where magnificent falls cascade from majestic heights, joining three rivers and three countries in a spectacle so vast no camera can do it justice.

While the town itself revolves primarily around the ebbs and flows of tourism, el Parque de Iguazu moves to the rhythms of nature. Our walk through the preserve revealed not just the magnificence of the falls but also the life of the rainforest. Tourists follow an elaborate network of wrought iron suspension bridges through the rainforest and over the calmer waters of the falls to lookout points that bring the power of the place to life. As we meander along the path, we notice first the wildlife that fearlessly follows humans. Yellow-breasted birds with black masks boldly alight on tourists’ fingers in search of empanada crumbs. Families of coatis, a cousin to the raccoon, meander among the tables of the snack stands sniffing out cookies inside our backpacks. Then there is the wildlife that co-exists, seemingly oblivious to human presence. Long-legged pipers stalk the grass and beach areas in search of insects, reminding Josh of Cape Cod sandpipers. Cormorants preen themselves in the sun on the rocks that extend beneath the iron suspension walkways that lead us through the rainforest. Swallows build nests in the support rods of the path beneath our feet. And we look out on the Swifts, little birds that flit like sprites in and out of the waterfalls to their nests on the rocks within. They part the rapidly flowing water as if it were nothing more than a curtain in their doorway. The ranger tells us that deeper in the forest are also toucans, parrots, monkeys, colorful snakes, ocelots, and occasional jaguars.

The water itself is high now, filling out the full array of falls across the canyons. A rainy winter means that the island beach at the center of the canyon is closed to tourists, its beaches immersed under an additional seven meters of water from the Iguazu and Parana rivers. The rain, though, also reveals the falls to us in their fullest glory. Our tour guide tells us that most visitors see only the most dramatic of the falls because the rivers seldom flow with such torrential force to fill out the full crown.

As we emerge from our jungle walk, we see first the vapor of the falls at Devil’s Throat, where the water falls at up to 10,000 cubic meters per minute, making it the most well-known of all the Iguazu waterfalls. This is the sacred falls where the Guarani Indians believed that god and the devil battled for souls. Those who lived in perfect unity with nature could safely navigate the upper shores of the falls; those who violated the principles of harmony would plummet to their deaths, pulled down by the inexorable force of the “devil’s throat.” Guarani legend also describes the jealous rage of a god whose bride, Naipí, fled with her mortal lover Tarobá in a canoe across the river. The god sliced the river in two, creating the waterfalls but condemning the lovers to an eternal fall. With those stories still resonating for us, the falls were suddenly upon us. The metal suspension path came to a sudden stop at an overlook that had each of us certain we had come upon not heaven exactly but that perfect Facebook photo that your friends will never believe. A rainbow glistened through the mist as the clouds parted for the first sunshine of the day. Jane remarked simply that rainbows and blue skies always follow BCS.

Leaving Devil’s Throat, we headed around the crown of the waterfall to see several other falls—just a few of the 275 discrete falls within the Iguazu necklace. Ferns burst across our path and vines wrapped themselves around the hand railings along the suspension trail, a profusion of green that prevented us from seeing more than a few feet into the rainforest beyond the path. The panorama of one waterfall after another broke our sense of enclosure and still more rainbows offered more opportunities for singers to proclaim, “the best Facebook photo ever!”

For Tal Zilber, BCS’s extremely talented composer and accompanist, those Facebook moments were also opportunities to assemble the chorus into rousing renditions of “Bring Me Little Water, Sylvie.” Tourists stopped to listen as we sang loudly over the white noise of the falls, with Tal capturing the moment for a DVD he is preparing for our singers at the end of the trip. I heard one tourist exclaim to his group how lucky they were to witness this impromptu concert in such a beautiful place. He was not the only one. I imagine that many of these tourists posted their lucky encounters with our singers at Iguazu Falls to their own Facebook pages, spreading the song of “Bring Me Little Water, Sylvie” worldwide.

For the smallest sample of Iguazu Falls, try to imagine the photos in our Shutterfly album full scale, embracing your entire horizon. Then you’ll begin to feel the wonder of this place.

Shutterfly link:

Devil’s Throat

Natalie, Jennifer, and Guiverlly at Iguazu

All of us at Iguazu