Where’s Wanda?

Wanda?

Yeah, the town with the mines. Only none of the other backpackers had heard of her, the town that is. Which is funny in a major tourist destination such as Puerto Iguazu, attracting millions of visitors each year for the rightfully impressive Iguazu Falls, but the town has little else to keep them. So on our ramblings around town, kicking up dirt to stir up some form of excitement, we tried to find out what other activities we could pass the time on. With a drought of things to do, we must have hit up every single souvenir shop on the street and side-street just for something to look at. The local kids caught on to this pretty fast, chasing us around with local crafts. More like local bling, they were chasing us down with hands full of jewels (okay, okay stunning quartz crystals) with these absurdly popular crystal trees fastened out of rocks and wire in the shape of well, trees. As I was admiring a particularly nicely fashioned rock tree, it suddenly caught my attention, where were they getting all this treasure?

Wanda. The elusive town with the small, yet richly supplied local mine, about an hour away by local bus. Unmentioned by the guidebooks, the backpacker network, and virtually unadvertised, we were chasing gold and bringing the our little dust storm to Wanda. Literally dropped off with a cloud of red dust swirling about us, we stared down the small town as the sun beat down on us. We we’re the only people, let alone foreigners in sight. However, we had nothing to be discouraged about as the taxi drivers, all two of them, swarmed our out of their shady posts to offer/accost us with a ride to the mines. We declined, perhaps stupidly considering the heat, and set off on the estimated 1.5 km towards the string of souvenir stores, stands, and shacks. It was hot, the dirt packed road so dry you could feel the mud cracks with the soles of your shoes. Everything was covered with the red dust, that seemed to be a mark of the heat itself. Yet still the kids managed to come from nowhere, hurtling down on us with arms full of rock trees.

The mines themselves, were small. Small, but the better for it. Owned by an argentine landowner in a country swarming with foreign investors and owners, especially in the business of mining. Run on a small scale, without machinery, making the mine safer for the workers and less damaging to the environment, it was a quaint and engaging experience. There was a lazy charm to the place, and a love and enthusiasm for geology. This was after all the same area that produced the Falls just an hour away, it was thick with geologic treasures and triumphs. The legend goes the owner had bought the land to farm Yerba Mate, well known is Missiones, as the region of the best Yerba Mate. But when he stumbled on some rare rocks, well, he just stumbled into a jeweler’s paradise. And Wanda, was, after all these years, a gem to visit, untouched by the tour bus circuit, it remains charmingly bright and many faceted. And yes, in the end, I bought a rock tree and got a free crystal in the bargain!