Pedaling South

Does Cyclo Nord Sud, our champion charity, airdrop shipping containers full of free bicycles on developing nations?

No!

No?

No. The used bikes that CNS collects are sent to community groups in countries in the South, who sell them at accessible prices.

They sell the bikes? Then how is Cyclo Nord Sud a legitimate charity? Why should I donate money to support a fake used bike shop?

It´s like this. Southern partners go through an extensive selection process. They must be a non-profit cooperative that helps disadvantaged people and have a vision of how the bikes will improve people’s lives by helping them get around (to work, to school, to market, etc). The funds from bike sales are used to keep the organizations afloat.

Meanwhile, collecting the used bikes on our end keeps them out of Canadian landfills.

There’s some philosophical stuff in there too, like helping women gain access to income and education opportunities by giving them more mobility, and challenging standard North-South relationships often defined by less than equitable trade terms set by rich countries to the detriment of poorer ones.

So where does the money go?

The partners we’ve visited during our trip use the funds from the sale of used Canadian bikes for things like:

• Room, board and Braille machines for children in a school for the visually-impaired in Estelli, Nicaragua;
• A bike mechanic training program for at-risk youth in San Salvador;
• Disaster-relief shelters and affordable disaster-resistant housing for Nicaraguans and Haitians.

Students from Estelli’s school for the visually-impaired

Youth from CESTA’s bike mechanic program in San Salvador

ECOSUR’s staff in Jinotepe, Nicaragua tackle disaster-proof designs

Why does Cyclo Nord Sud need money?

The cost for processing and shipping a container of 450 bikes is about $20 000. Cyclo Nord Sud shells out the whole amount for a new partner’s first container. Afterward, once the partner’s bike program is running sustainably, CNS pays half of the shipping cost. CNS relies on donors for these funds. CNS has over 10 active partners in Latin America and Africa.

Please donate! Every dollar counts!

Click here to donate to CNS

Yesterday, for the first time in months, I bought some eggs that didn’t have tiny feathers pasted to their shells. This struck me as unnatural, and I had a brief moment of nostalgia for Bolivia. Yet as I breathed in the sultry afternoon air of Salta, Argentina, a city of half a million that seems at once bustling and laid back, the moment was quickly obliterated.

Great. Just when I though things couldn’t get any weirder. We spent over a month in a country where you can buy mummified llama fetuses on every street corner (used in traditional ceremonies), where Spanish is a second language after Aymara or Quechua, where women wear bowler hats and huge skirts and wear their hair in thick braids, where it’s impossible to get more than 100 meters-worth of directions at a time and a surprising number of people don’t know the name of the town they live in, where people drive beside the road in search of a smoother ride. Yes, Bolivia is weird.

But Argentina? What is this place doing here? Its existence is so totally incongruous with everything we’ve experienced since crossing from California into Mexico over a year ago. It’s like that dream you have where you find that secret door in your house that magically leads to a whole new set of rooms–you’ve all had that dream, right?

Here is a brief list of what is blowing our minds these days:

• Argentines are beautiful people. They dress well, have good posture, are confident, in shape and on the whole have genetics on their side.
• Argentine gas stations have free WiFi.
• Argentine gas stations serve up mean espressos (which are always accompanied with soda water).
• Argentine restrooms contain the following items that one will almost never encounter in Peru or Bolivia: running water, soap, hand towels, toilet seats and toilets that aren’t just concrete holes.
• Big downtown stores are closed from 12 PM to 5 PM every day for la siesta.
• People take vacations.
• The streets and malls are packed at 10:30 at night on weekdays.
• Highways are clearly signed.
• People no longer honk at us as though we were livestock wandering in the road; they toot, smile and wave.
• Beef is ridiculously good and relatively inexpensive.
• Even small grocery stores feature a tremendous selection of excellent (domestic) wines. The highest-priced bottles run around $10 US, with the average being about $4.
• We’ve crossed into yet another time zone, which means we’re 2 hours ahead of Montreal and 6 hours ahead of Anchorage, our point of departure.

We’re finally back on the road after waiting several days for customs to release Lucie’s new camera. A huge thanks to Salta’s Volunteer Firefighters for putting up with us. We’re now riding through Cafayate on our way to Mendoza. Look forward to some real photos in upcoming posts (as opposed to my quick draw shots with my dinky point-and-shoot Kodak) as Lucie gets back to work as Team Pedaling South’s official photographer after more than two weeks off.

J’étais nostalgique de quitter la Bolivie. Ce pays qu’on déclare le plus pauvre des Amériques a un charme certain, des paysages exceptionnels, un altiplano dépourvu de montagnes russes (quel répit!) et de moustiques, des camping sauvages magiques, faciles à dénicher, sans clôture qui longent la route pour compliquer l’entrée. C’est aussi un pays simple, sans prétention, avec des ressources limitées, certes, mais tranquille.

Le passage de la Bolivie à l’Argentine est un peu comme d’aller des États-Unis au Mexique, sauf que le choc est inversé. Depuis le pays des sombreros, nous sommes habitués de côtoyer des gens qui vivent modestement, dans un certain état de pauvreté. Et là d’un seul coup, c’est l’opulence. On retrouve de tout dans les épiceries qui ont au moins quintuplées en taille: des étagères de vins à n’en plus finir, des fromages vieillis, des charcuteries fines, du lait frais, du yogourts réfrigérés – je ne crois pas avoir vu un seul frigo en Bolivie!

Des différences, il y en a à profusion. C’est maintenant facile de se débarrasser de nos déchets; les poubelles existent et sont la responsabilité de l’État . Les toilettes publiques quant à elles sont équipées d’un siège, de papier de toilette, de savon, d’eau courant et de serviettes pour les mains. La plupart des stations services offrent un signal Wifi gratuit. Nous revoilà enfin connecté plus souvent qu’autrement avec notre monde, pour le meilleur et pour le pire.

Les premiers jours sur cette nouvelle terre d’accueil, nous en avons profité à fond: steak et vin de grand cru. C’était le jour de l’an après tout, il fallait bien célébrer en grand et se gâter un peu! Mais tous ces nouveaux produits ne sont pas gratuits. Les prix ont grimpé, certains égalent même ceux des produits canadiens. On a désormais des choix à (re)faire en fonction de notre budget. Je dois avouer, j’avais un faible pour les comedors péruviens et boliviens: pour 1,50$, on nous servait l’unique plat qu’il y avait sur le menu. C’était simple, délicieux et on y allait chaque jour quand c’était possible. Maintenant, c’est le retour de snacks et de sandwichs sur le bord de la route.

Mais bon, laissons ma nostalgie de côté.

L’Argentine a un charme extraordinaire, pas étonnant que ce soit une destination touristique en vogue. Tant mieux car nous passerons plusieurs mois ici. Prochainement, nous irons visiter quelques vignobles dont celui de la famille Zuccardi qui produit entre autres le Fuzion, le vin le plus bu dans la belle province. On vous tiendra au courant, bien entendu.

Nous sommes à Salta depuis six jours, en attente d’un paquet libéré sous peu par les douanes. C’est ma nouvelle caméra, mon outil de travail, mon joujou et aussi le prolongement de ma mémoire visuelle. Vendredi, nous avons harcelé les fonctionnaires de la poste et eu la promesse qu’on pourrait repartir aujourd’hui avec le-dit paquet. Je garde mes doigts croisés…

Pendant que j’ai votre attention, j’aimerais remercier tout ceux qui nous ont écrit récemment, envoyés des voeux de nouvelle année et de support moral. C’est tellement agréable de vous lire, ça motive et encourage lors des moments plus difficiles… et il y en a régulièrement, mine de rien…

À bientôt!

Nous voilà en Argentine, à moins de 5121 km d’Ushuaia, notre objectif ultime! Bonne année!

Happy New Year from Argentina, land of steak and wine! Only 5121 km to go…

Potosi was tough.

Some incredibly bold thieves made off with Lucie’s professional camera just after we arrived in town. Instead of heading as planned to our Warm Showers host at the edge of the city, we staged a two-day stakeout downtown, hoping to recover this indispensable piece of equipment. We prowled the thieves’ market in the “Barrio Chino”, where hoodlums gather after sundown to sell their ill-begotten wares. While we tried to look tough and blend in, it was clear to everyone that we were only there because we’d been robbed and were looking for our stuff. It was hopeless. The few honest merchants scorned us, while the crooks simply avoided us. Our chances of recuperating the camera seem very bleak.

On December 21st, we escaped Potosi, where we stored our bikes and most of our gear, and headed by bus to Sucre, reputed to be the jewel of Bolivia and the most laid-back city in South America. “The White City” of Sucre immediately overwhelmed us with its opulence, splendour and tranquility. At 2700 meters, the city enjoys a fairly warm climate, a nice break from the dry cold of the 4000-meter altiplano. Palm trees strung with lights line the streets. The wide boulevards give onto beautiful colonial palaces. People seem happy and unhurried. To us, it was a paradise.

After almost 15 months of living in our tent and sleeping on the floors of fire halls, we gave ourselves permission to live it up for Christmas, and stayed in a comfortable hotel (for $5 a night)! Our $5 gift limit got us a surprising amount of booty. Our presents had to be edible, drinkable, extremely useful, light and/or small. We now have a lot of chocolate (Sucre has at least four gourmet handmade chocolate shops), new socks, a lighter, nail clippers and a razor! These may seem small tokens, but we were nonetheless both very merry opening our presents together on Christmas morning. Connecting with family in Quebec, Ontario, Alberta and Egypt via Skype helped to keep the Christmas blues at bay. We took part in a Christmas parade on the night of the 24th followed by midnight mass in the Cathedral. On the night of the 25th we treated ourselves to a fantastic meal with wine, Caesar salad, steak and cheesecake at the jet set Joyride Café just off the main Plaza. We had a wonderful Christmas.

We’ve topped up on hot showers, exquisite Bolivian espresso coffee and fine cocoa, and are headed straight for Tupiza and then Villazon, the Argentine border. We hope to be in Argentina before the New Year.

A huge, red-ribboned “Thank You!” to our friends and families who have shown us so much support from the beginning of our expedition. While some of you are living this adventure through us, we are living this adventure thanks to you. We’re ecstatic to have made it this far.

Happy Holidays.

Hoping all of you are enjoying a wonderful Holiday Season with family and friends.

Joyeux Noël à vous tous! On pense à vous!

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