Plumbing in Entre Rios

When I got to the mission here in Entre Rios, I was first shown to my room and then shown how to use the shower. It was not that the shower was hard to understand at all, just that there was no water in the shower. To get water for the shower I needed to go outside and turn on the mains tap.

chipping away concrete
Making a path through the concrete for the pipe.

After inquiring about why the situation was like this, I was told that there is a great amount of water being lost underground through the pipes. This could be seen clearly by the amount of water pouring out of the ground and pipes at the lower part of the building on the downhill side.

Rather than live with things as they were, I offered to help out with the re-plumbing of the place. I told them that I was a qualified plumber by virtue of one of my good friends being a plumber (just as I am a qualified electrician because my cousin is an electrician – runs in the family you see). Also having re-plumbed my house also helped.

The original tap
The original tap that needed to be opened to take a shower.

All of the materials were present, and a small portion of the pipes had already been joined, although were not in place. With a bit of planning and work, and help from Guido, we had almost the whole place plumbed within two days. After this, there were only a couple of extra things to do, such as running water to another small bathroom that is hardly used and fixing the kitchen tap.

During the last few days there has been a leadership teaching running all day which has limited what I have been able to do. There are a couple of leaks still to be corrected, and some burst pipes that I have managed to fix too, including one that filled the storage room within seconds. Putting in some taps here and there to be able to cut off the water to different sections and fixing the leaking taps and toilets are also on the list.

toilet with burst pipe
The pipe on this toilet burst, filling the dining room with water.

dining room floor
The dining room filled with water.

Even now the place is tremendously better than it was before. One of the ladies came up to me and thanked me tremendously for what we had just done with the plumbing. She told me that the plumbing had been in disrepair for a whole year. They had been getting so desperate that they were considering paying a plumber to fix the problem – something that was far beyond the meagre budget of this small mission.

finished product
The pipes in place and finished (the old tap no longer works).

When things like this happen and I am able to help out, I often consider it as though God had placed me in this place for that very reason. Perhaps not, but in any case I have been able to help these people in a very practical way.

burst pipe
The pipe that burst, filling the storage room within moments.

Return to Entre Rios

It has been a long time since I was last here. August 2004 during the practical part of my YWAM Discipleship course I came here to Entre Rios, a small town in the middle of a long winding journey between two cities of Bolivia. That was with a team of people, and we helped the local mission in any way we could. This included evangelism, working with the church, children, and visiting distant churches and people living in the mountains, walking over 12 hours at times to reach them. I have come in response to a promise I made to return, and because I believe that God has called me to return during this time.

typical Bolivian
A man in typical Bolivian dress sits outside the town hotel.

Frozen In Time
Today is my second day here. The town appears to have been frozen still in time. Everything is still the same. The old guy with a missing leg still sits outside his home serving cold drinks to people passing by. The roads and houses even down to the signs and writing are all just as I remember them from last time. In the mission are all the same faces, and the building has not altered in any way. Even the motorbike lying against the wall remains there, unfixed.

the plaza
The recently finished town plaza.

There have been a couple of changes though. The plaza, still under repair when I was here, is now fixed and looking pretty. There are a couple of American girls working here, the first foreign faces that I have seen here outside of the mission. And the most significant change is that there is now Internet. It is slow, cuts in and out, and can be frustrating at times, but it exists.

fruit and vegetables
Fruit and vegetables for sale direct from the farmer.

Somehow I feel right at home here. A slow pace of life, everybody knowing each other, limited selections of goods, limited communications, fresh air, beautiful mountains, and a relaxed atmosphere are all part of life here. I love dropping into a local restaurant and ordering from the selection of chicken leg or chicken wing for something to eat. I love seeing the same people over and over. Watching the paranoid man peek out of his old door and slam it again as I walk past. Watching the ladies in their Bolivian dress prepare their goods to sell. It feels like home. But it isn’t.

pig in arms of boy
A boy holds his pig, recently untied from the roof of the bus he was travelling in.

young girl in doorway
A young girl playing in the doorway of her home.

horse pulling bull
Towing an unwilling bull through town.

side street
A side street leading down to the main route to Tarija.

main street
One of the busiest streets in the entire town.

Local bus
This old bus carries people out to the outlying settlements and towns in the mountains.

The Journey To Entre Rios

Having travelled to Entre Rios back in 2004 from the other end of this winding road and only during the night, I was very interested in seeing this side of the road that leads to my destination. Even better was that I was about to travel this route during daylight hours.

bus station at Tarija
Leaving the bus terminal at Tarija.

My camera was out and ready to try and capture a little of what it was like to journey along these roads, and something of the countryside and the life of Bolivians in this area. It was harder than I first thought, capturing the road ahead and the sheer cliffs that we were travelling next to, but the photos that follow try to explain a little of the journey.

winding road
The beginning sections of the winding road.

Along the way our bus broke down. Some sort of cooling problem required the driver and his helper to don overalls and pull out a range of tools and spare parts especially stored for this sort of event. They climbed underneath the bus and fiddled around for a while, allowing us time to get off and wander about, stretching our legs, relieving the bladder, and looking around. Within 20 minutes we were mobile again, once more negotiating the dangerous curves.

break down
The men under the bus working on fixing it.

waiting for broken bus
Waiting around for the bus to be fixed.

Motion Sick
Apart from being dangerous, our driver took the corners somewhat aggressively, wrenching the bus from one point to the other. I was starting to feel the very early stages of motion sickness creeping in, but put myself to concentrate on the journey and I was fine. The young lad seated next to me was not fine.

sick boy
The sick young lad with his coat wrapped around him.

Suddenly he covered his face with his denim jacket and from within I heard the gurgling sounds of a stomach that had given up the fight of holding it in. Each corner produced more sounds as the poor lad fought to control himself. By the end of the journey he had managed to cover himself and his seat. In such a closed environment such as the bus that we were in, the smell of such an event can set off dozens of other people also close to that point. Fortunately, with his jacket closed and my window open, there was no strong smell of the event. Those corners really took their toll.

road following creeks
The road often followed the path of creeks and streams.

After four hours of nothing but curves, we finally reach my destination. Entre Rios, a small town in the middle of two rivers amongst the mountains. I get off and let the bus continue on its journey to Yacuiba, heading up the road to make contact with my friends here.

local house
Most houses here are build with mud bricks.

subsistence farm
Many of the houses farm sufficient crops for themselves and only sometimes do they try to make a tiny amount of extra money.

sheep in yard
The house yard is used as an animal pen as well as for the family and children.

continuing curves
The road continues to wind without end.

Passing children
Children travelling along the road squeeze between the bus and the cliff edge.

more winding road
Looking back at the road from where we have come.

Entre Rios in the valley
Finally we come into site of Entre Rios in the valley below.

Arriving
Arriving in Entre Rios, the end of my journey.

Arriving in Tarija, Bolivia

Well, I have just stepped off the bus from Bermejo at the Bolivian border with Argentina. The bus ride took about four hours and involved a range of obstacle courses. I managed to sleep for some of the journey, making up for the lost sleep on the Argentine section of the trip where I only managed 3 hours sleep.

The border bridge
Crossing the border bridge during early morning.

Going through customs was a standard procedure, after waking the Bolivian officers from their slumber, but unfortunately I missed a bus that was heading for Tarija because of it. Instead I needed to catch a taxi to the bus terminal and board one of the buses heading there at a later time.

Waiting for a bus to be ready
On arrival at the terminal, a lady grabs my bag and races off with it, while another grabs me by the arm and says, "hurry, the bus is already set to leave but we are holding it for you." The bus was not set to leave at all. The driver was sitting in his seat for show. It was 6.30am when I purchased that ticket thinking that I was leaving straight away. In fact, I was one of the very first that had purchased a ticket.

Ticket sellers soliciting people
Ticket sellers soliciting people even before they get out of the car.

The ladies assured me that they were leaving at 7.00am now, which was only a short time later. But as the minutes ticked onward this seemed less likely. Every taxi that arrived received the same treatment of a swarm of ladies all trying to sell tickets on their bus. I guess I had become accustomed to the politeness of Argentina, and forgotten about the randomness that happens here in Bolivia.

As more and more people purchased tickets for the bus, there became more people hanging around waiting for it to leave. The driver had long since gotten out and gone somewhere else. Not a soul was seated on the bus. Soon the sign saying 7.00am was changed for one that said 7.30am. This was Bolivia. Schedules here are very flexible.

Waiting for the bus
People waiting around for the bus to leave.

Eventually I realised that the delay had nothing to do with time, but revolved around how many passengers they had for the journey. Once there were enough passengers then we would be leaving. I started to relax, wandering over to a newly established breakfast stall. The lady had some Aji brewing (red thick liquid with a funky taste) and made torta-fritas to order (deep fried pastry/bread), all for $1 peso AR.

After enjoying breakfast and wandering lazily around the terminal, I noticed that people had started to climb aboard the bus. More interestingly was that the driver was now back in his seat again. I wandered over to climb aboard and was confronted with a young girl demanding another $2 pesos BOL which she called a boarding fee. It turned out to be a tax imposed by the terminal on all passengers.

The winding road
The winding road that we travelled along.

The Winding Journey
We finally left a little after 8.00am. There had been a lot of rain recently, causing the roads to be cut by falling rocks and mud slides everywhere. It had all been cleared enough to make room for traffic again but the rain had started again last night.

Our road wound its way along the edge of the River Bermejo, coming dangerously close to the edges at times. We passed a truck that had tipped onto its side when its wheels sunk into the soft mud on the edges of the road, and a car that had been written off in an accident along a straight section of road. Most of the journey was not always as entertaining.

Smashed car
Smashed car being retrieved.

One time, I was woken from my sleep when the bus stopped and shut off its engine. Ahead of us was another bus and a small truck. The road was cut and there was no way through, but an earthmover was working on the problem. Within moments of getting off the bus there comes a shout and everyone runs toward the bus. It has been declared passable, so we are going to try.

The bus races forward at an ever increasing rate as our gung-ho driver tries to gain the momentum he needs to carry him over the slippery mud section. In negotiating his way, he neglects to allow for the drift that this mud causes. Suddenly our bus lurches wildly toward the cliff edge. Everybody aboard instantly leans back toward the road, hoping that we survive this moment. We do.

Land slip
The land slip that stopped our bus.

As we pass the earthmover driver, safely back on the road surface again, I see him shake his head. He too looked just as worried as we all had been. Our journey continues, through tunnels, up mountains, into the clouds, and back down into river valleys again. The muddy waters of the swollen Bermejo river raging wildly against its edges below us in its gorge.

Occassionally our bus blares its horn and brakes wildly, with a sharp swerve here and there. It is animals roaming on the roads. Pigs, cattle, donkeys, goats, or dogs. All get in the way, and our bus driver does not like to slow down very much. The rain falls consistently until we reach Tarija, and then mercifully stops.

Climbing into clouds
Our journey takes us up the mountains and into the clouds.

Tarija. I have now reached the end of this, my first journey in Bolivia.

Bolivian woman
A woman in typical Bolivian dress.

Bike workshop
A bicycle workshop in a local town.

People under shelter
Sheltering from the constant falling rain.

Town street
Street of the oldest town in the Bermejo province.

Kiosk
Local kiosk along the side of the road near nothing else.

Siambretta Under The Knife

That was it. I had had enough. While changing gears on my bike it kept jumping out, the clutch kept slipping, the thing was really hard to start, the brakes were dangerous because they simply did not stop the bike, and it really lacked in power. Phew. Lots of problems.

long road
A long stretch of road in Argentina.

I loved the bike but these things were starting to get to me and I knew that if I was going to start riding it some long distances then they would cause even more problems. Argentina has some very long stretches of road with nothing in between. If I broke down on one of those stretches then it would be a long long way to walk to get help.

Mr. Verdun’s Report
That was the point that I decided it would be better to get the help of an expert. So I took my bike down to Mr. Verdun who is an expert in Siambretta motorbikes. At something around seventy years of age, he has been working on these bikes since they started selling them in Argentina back in the 50’s. In one of his comments, he shared that he was even one of the official Inocenti mechanics for their Siambretta range of bikes. Since then he has never stopped working on them, and his yard shows the years of collected bikes, frames and other bits and pieces.

bike graveyard
Part of the graveyard at the house of Mr. Verdun.

A man the likes of Mr. Verdun would soon be able to sort out all of the things wrong with my bike and get it up and running again in good condition. So it did not surprise me when I took the bike down to him that he started to identify areas that would need to be looked at. We dug around in various parts of the bike, and chatted about different areas that needed help. At the end of our chat he climbed aboard and rode around the block to check it out. His report was actually quite promising.

There were certain things that we knew had to be repaired on the bike. These were the obvious things, such as the clutch and the brakes. The gears also seemed to need to be replaced too, but after his ride I was told that only 3rd gear had a problem. The lack of power was due to worn rings in the cylinder, and the bike sounded like an chainsaw because of an old exhaust pipe with lots of holes in it.

Mr. Verdun
Mr. Verdun, the Siambretta man.

My newly hired mechanic was now going to pull apart the bike and assess the rest of the problems that may exist inside the gearbox. Things like the chain, gears, bearings, and other areas all needed to be inspected. My task was to return at the end of the day. I did, and by the end of the assessment there was a list of things that needed to be replaced, repaired, or re-manufactured. One of the things that I love about Argentina is that if they do not have it then they can easily make it.

This was my list of things needing fixing:

  • Front and rear brakes
  • The clutch and clutch basket
  • Piston rings
  • Exhaust pipe
  • Bush for the gear change shaft
  • Replace points for electronic ignition

bits of my bike in a crate
Bits of my bike.

Amazingly the gears were all in good condition and the problems with them was due to the worn bush and somebody putting a gear in the gearbox the wrong way. The chain was also in very good condition and did not need to be changed, however the clutch inner basket was just about to self-explode and destroy everything in the gearbox. The points were no longer available so changing to electronic ignition removed the need to use points, and I have organised to put some side mirrors on the bike too because of the troubles that this causes on the highways without them.

Having Mr. Verdun look over the bike gave me a lot of confidence in knowing that the work would be done well. His experience and understanding of these bikes will ensure that my bike will last the distance when I start on some of my journeys. It will be great to have the bike working well too. The only things left after this work is the shock absorber and a speedometer. Then I will be ready for the road.

the remains of my bike
My bike disassembled for inspection.

Siambretta – The Reassembly

Well, it has been a while now and there has been no news about my Siambretta which went under the surgeon’s knife before the weekend. When I left it at the workshop the indication was that it may take more than a week to fix. There were several things that were dependant on other people to finish and these were the unknown lengths of time.

So being of an inquisitive nature, I wandered back down to Mr Verdun’s place to check up on my bike. When I arrived, there he was in the process of putting the gearbox cover back on the bike. He was happy to see me and told me about many of the repairs that he has already made to the thing, showing me some of his work and explaining other parts of it that I could not directly see.

Mr Verdun wroking on my Siambretta
Mr Verdun sorting through the parts while working on my Siambretta.

With the cylinder head back together and the gearbox, clutch and drive-train assembled, the bike is starting to look almost ready. This was something that Mr Verdun was very quick to dispel, explaining that he still needs to glue the brake pads onto the shoes, fit the electronic ignition, create some parts to get the choke working, and so on. It was quite an extensive list. After giving me this list, he then tells me that it is likely that the bike will be ready in two days. That means Wednesday.

From my conversations with Mr Verdun, he is still a very strong Siambretta enthusiast and loves to see the bikes in good working order. He has been excited by the work I have asked him to perform on my bike and informs me that it will be a completely different motorbike to the one I left with him only a few days before.

Another benefit that has come from asking him to do this work for me is that some parts which I had been told were previously unavailable, are now appearing. It seems that Mr Verdun is eager to see the bike returned to a good state too, so now some of the rare parts that are reserved for good customers are becoming available. I guess that means that I am one of his good customers then.

Fixing up the gearbox
With a box of parts at his side, Mr Verdun fixes on the gearbox cover.

Our Local Shop in Corrientes

Having been here for a long time, it was only recently that this shed situated right next to our property was opened as a shop. The guy that runs it, Ariel, actually started his Discipleship course with us back in July 2004. Now he works next to us and loves chatting with all an any who wander by.

It is not such a great building for a store, being just a big tin shed, but it has virtually everything that we could need and want. Chocolate, fizzy drinks, light bulbs, toilette paper, and of course all of the basic food items too. So this is now our local shop, only six paces outside our front gate.

local shop and owner
Ariel standing outside his shop.

Buying a Siambretta – Paperwork and More Paperwork

Today has been the third consecutive day of paperwork for both Sergio and I. Things were looking really good today, and I was sure that we would get very close to finishing everything. As we paced our way down the narrow sidewalks, avoiding other rushing people and searching for the shadows in this blistering hot day, I cheerfully chirped to Sergio that we have almost finished it all now. Without batting an eyelid nor even offering a glance my way, he shot back, “well we have less to do now than when we started.”


Sergio heading to the windows where we paid our licence plate fees.

After that we walked along in silence for a while, as I chewed over his words. Having been through many purchases in his life, Sergio was no stranger to all of the different forms and processes involved in the deal. Perhaps there was something that I was missing? I shot another glance at our list of paperwork to complete before we could finalize the transfer of the bike into Sergio’s name. It all seemed so simple and clear. We had done the tough parts and there were only two items left on our list. It was obvious that we were almost done.

It did not take long before we reached our destination, the Transport Office, where we would then complete the next item on our list. We had just been to the provincial government office and paid our fees on the number plates that were outstanding. A stamped paper in our hands proving our payment gave us access to this next step, and with the two offices being only five blocks apart it seemed like a good idea to walk here.

On entering the Transport Office we were greeted by a cool refreshing blast of air-conditioning, reminding us of just how hot it was outside. A brief enquiry at the main desk and we found our way through to the back of the building into an area of open planned office spaces. A group of people hovered around the one desk with people behind it coming and going and chatting quietly between themselves. This was our destination also.


The Transport Office and our destination desk at the very end.

Leaning over the desk and presenting our paper when it was our turn, we were not expecting what we heard next. The lady looked over the paper and exclaimed, “You have paid too much.” She checked the paper once again and told us that because the bike was built in 1962, we only had to pay the fees on the plates for the year 2000 and everything after that was free. Even though there were outstanding amounts listed, these would be wiped out when we finished the process.

But we could not finish the process just yet. The lady would not let us. Instead we were instructed to return to the government office and ask for them to refund us the difference. That was another five block walk back to where we had started, and time was starting to run short. The best part of this overpayment was that the fee dropped from around $136 pesos to only $34 pesos. A significant difference for anyone.


Finding our way through the mazes of government offices.

Normally we used Sergio’s car in our travels because it was generally easier and faster. It was also the only transport that we had. Now that we had the motorbike too, it had become an option, although today it was a necessity. Sergio’s car had broken down late yesterday and there was no other form of transport. So this time when we left the government office we climbed aboard my bike and rode over to the Transport Office.

We were now ready to strike off the next item on our list. The “Baja.” This removes all records of old bikes that do not have a complete paper-trail from the computers so it can be added again from the beginning. As Sergio handed over our amended receipt proving our payment of the licence plate fees, I expected that we would receive our “Baja” and be on our way. Instead, the lady reached into her folder and pulled out for us yet another list of items to complete.

The first item was yet another possible debt that had somehow managed to cling to the bike rather than the person. This was the unpaid traffic infractions associated with the bike. Now it is my prayer, desire, hope and wish that this old bike has no such a thing as an unpaid infraction upon it, but to find out we have to wait. It takes three working days to complete.


Waiting to be attended at the Office of Infractions and Fines.

Doing anything in Argentina takes longer than most other places that I know. So when we had to apply for a list of possible outstanding infractions, it did not surprise me that it used up the rest of our available time. On entering the building, through a small doorway in a huge steel grilled wall we were presented with two different branches of the pathway. From where we stood at the junction there were even more choices further along, so the only sure way of working out our destination was asking a guard. He cheerfully pointed us into the branch on the right.

When our turn arrived, we asked for the application and presented the necessary papers which had taken much of the week to get. Once they were satisfied with our status as the new owners of the motorbike we received a bill and told to come back when it was paid. So we headed back down the branch and out through the steel grated wall. Next door was the place that we paid this bill, and after waiting in line and receiving our stamp of payment on the bill, we were able to return once again into the depths of the neighboring building.

On presenting our proof of payment after yet another wait, we were registered for the application. It was done. Now we had to wait three days to receive the results. Monday it will be ready, but this is only the first of five items to complete for our “Baja.” The other items involve bouncing around the city from one place to the next to pick up a form in one place, have it filled out in another, and get it verified in yet another. Now I sympathize with Sergio and understand how he can say that we do not know if we are near the end or not, we can only say that we now have less to do than before.


Buying the official forms needed during our paperwork efforts.

It is obvious that I am very new to the paperwork requirements in Argentina. Until now it has been an amazing learning experience. Never did I expect that there would be so much time, money, and doors to move through before I could buy a simple motorbike. This much paperwork is not always required I am told. It is just that the motorbike I wanted to buy is so old that it has never been entered into the records database properly.

In working through all of these paperwork dilemmas and processes with Sergio, I have learned about yet another face of Argentina. My experience has taken me deeper into the workings and life of this country where I live. It has been a fascinating experience, fraught with mishaps and unexpected turns at every side, and still it continues.

Before this mammoth effort, I could not understand why so many bikes, cars and also houses here in Corrientes are sold without any paperwork. Now, even in the middle of the process, I can see why. Even the official government forms have to be purchased so you can continue the process.

Paperwork, paperwork, and even more paperwork. But we have less to do now than we did before.

Buying a Siambretta – Yet Another Visit

Today was an easy day. All I had to do was visit the Escribana and pick up some paperwork. Most of it seems to be signed now, although I am not holding my breath. The paperwork was all very important stuff. Things that I need to be legal on the roads here in Argentina. I now have two contracts of sale, one with the original owner on the paperwork, and the other with the seller, and an authorisation to drive Sergio’s bike. Now I am legal and if the police pull me over then I should be fine.

Of course there is always something yet to do, and with the bald front tire, no rear-vision mirrors, and a dodgy licence, there are still areas of concern to attend to. My plan is to get everything done as soon as possible so that I am truly legal here. It is proving to be a lot harder than I first expected. But after this visit, I am resting easier when I see a police blockade on the roads now.


The papers that I need to have on me at all times (Clockwise from left: Authorisation to drive, Certificate of sale from both parties, licence, passport, and Title Card of the motorbike).

Doing Business in South America

At the end of last year a survey came out about the processes and costs needed to start a business in over 150 countries. Run by the World Bank Group and the International Finance Corporation, their Doing Business website revealed that the best six places to start a business were:

1. New Zealand
2. Singapore
3. United States
4. Canada
5. Norway
6. Australia

Out of all of those countries, South America did not do so well:

25. Chile
77. Argentina
88. Paraguay
119. Brazil

In Argentina, it takes 32 days and 15 procedures to start a business at a cost rating of 13% of the average person’s gross annual income. In Brazil it you need to go through 17 procedures, wait 152 days, and pay 10% of your annual wage. Back home in Australia it only takes 2 days and 2 procedures and costs 1.9%.

There is a lot more information beyond this, although all business related. It includes things like taxes, licenses, enforcing contracts, trading across borders and many other areas. It certainly reveals a lot about the bureaucracy of each country.

This information is old news for those who follow it, but in looking over it once again, I can now start to appreciate why it is taking so long for me to sort out all of the paperwork with my newly acquired motorbike. After all, if it takes that much effort to do business here, then why should I expect less for changing owners on an old motorbike.