San Ignacio Miní

Friday 13th May 1988

Steve shook me awake to a dingy grey dawn. The bus made a quick stop to drop us off at San Ignacio, site of the old Jesuit mission ruins. San Ignacio Miní was one of the many missions founded in 1610 in Argentina, by the Jesuits in what the colonial Spaniards called the Province of Paraguay of the Americas during the Spanish colonial period. It is located near present-day San Ignacio valley, some 60 km north of Posadas, Misiones Province, Argentina.

The original mission was erected near the year 1610 by Jesuit priests José Cataldino and Simón Maceta in the region called Guayrá by the natives and La Pinería by the Spanish conquistadores in present Paraná State, Brazil. Because of the constant attacks of the Bandeirantes, the mission moved in 1632, and did not settle in its current location until 1696. It was called San Ignacio Miní (minor in Guaraní) to distinguish it from the larger mission, San Ignacio Guazú (great), in Paraguay.

It was 07:00 hrs. and barely light so we expected to have a long wait for anything to happen. We were pleasantly surprised when a tourist restaurant cum souvenir/gimmick store opposite the ruins opened and invited us in for breakfast.

We had coffee with unlimited toast for the princely sum of ₳4 Australes each. We could use the toilet and leave our bags there while we went out exploring. We went across the road into the ruins. It was free to enter but a gateman gave us a card of rules to read before we went in. No writing on walls, no nicking bits of stone etc.

We walked around the old living quarters, square brown stone solid basic constructions. Each house had a pillar out front which probably once supported a roofed arcade. Everywhere there was a pleasant scent from coniferous trees and in one Vivienda there was a tree root that looked like a human body sitting astride a crumbling wall.

We walked across to the more ornate and extensive religious buildings. There was a huge grassy plaza surrounded by big buildings (churches etc.) with tiled floors and carved arches. There were Jesuit graves from the 1700’s around the main altar.

It was nice and peaceful at the ruins. Too early for the tour buses. We looked at the small collection of iron implements and bone utensils in the museo before going out to investigate the sleepy town of San Ignacio.

Red dirt roads led away from the few tarmacked roads in the centre, cutting swathes into rich green woodland. We passed a school where girls were playing baseball and continued down to the big army base.

Here we followed yellow signs to the house of a famous writer cum naturalist. Horacio Quiroga's house was the home of the author of the famous book “Jungle Tales” who lived in Misiones, amidst his madness, his passion for literature and, of course, his love for the magic of this nook in Misiones.

Here we were shown around by a friendly guide who was surprised to see tourists who had walked the substantial distance from the town. He thought that we must be avid fans of the “great” man, but in fact, we had never heard of him before. We paid ₳2 Australes to go in.

We saw his carpentry work, shop, snake pit, house and garden. Among the special details that stand out from the rest, some rarities can be found: for instance, an important collection of dissected butterflies and the skin of a large snake the writer himself killed, skinned and dissected to show it as a trophy and to leave track of how life and death are part of the jungle’s routine.

Back in town we picked up our bags and Swiss Steve talked our way onto a tourist bus with a few German-speaking Argentines on board. We stopped for a huge grilled chicken lunch washed down with red wine, which went down a treat.

I slept for most of the afternoon as the modern coach thundered through extensive wooded terrain with red dirt roads and a few lumber camps dotted here and there. Trees stretched into the distance over low rolling hills for as far as you could see.

The coach stopped at a posh hotel outside of Puerto Iguazú which is a border city in the province of Misiones, Argentina. It is the fourth largest city in the Province, after Posadas, Oberá, and Eldorado. The world-renowned Iguazú Falls are only 18 kilometres (11 miles) away from the city, and as a result the city has developed much of its infrastructure around tourism.

We “tipped” the drivers mate ₳10 Australes each for the ride and set off in failing light to walk into the town. We picked up a town map in a tourist agency and a room in the Residential Arco Iris on Calle Curupy with a bathroom for ₳20 Australes each.

Our friendly host ran around the room with a spray gun (insecticide? Disinfectant?) before we took residence. We used the dodgy looking shower with exposed wires into the water unit and then walked out down to the town centre.

A blazing mound of car tyres attracted our attention, and we joined a crowd of locals watching the firemen working out. Spraying each other with water they crawled through a tunnel through the flames to the cheers and encouragement of the onlookers. One particularly fat fireman got most barracking.

Illuminated signs flashed around the plaza attracting the tourist to expensive restaurants and shops selling leather clothes and perfume. We had a huge pizza and two bottles of red wine in a café with a very attractive waitress until we were practically falling asleep at 23:00 hrs.

A drunk talked incomprehensibly to us and offered to buy us some more wine. Other customers played guitars and sang along to the accordion, but we were too tired to appreciate the merriment.