Salta la Linda
view the photo essay "Song of Salta"
view the story published in Rumbo, p1

and p2

	Puppet Girl Artisans are everywhere in Salta, as this puppetmaker who was climbing Cerro San Benito one morning.

This Northwest Argentine province is known for its Andean terrain, its wineries, its folklore and the empanadas that melt in your mouth. The beautiful colonial city at its heart is known as Salta la Linda (Salta the beautiful) and with good reason. Tucked into the rugged green foothills of the Andes, the city basks in a balmy alpine climate. Around every corner is another example of Neocolonial architecture, with its balconies and courtyards, gardens and plazas and spectacular cathedrals.

For many travelers, it's the starting point for excursions into the dramatic landscapes of Tucuman, Jujuy and Salta provinces, and a bustling tourism industry makes it ideal for that purpose. But it would be a mistake to write off the city as a mere pit stop.

	Alfajores Salta's handmade version of this traditional Argentine dessert

Salta is beautiful on many levels; it's a delight to all the senses, with the fragrance of jasmine drifting from the courtyard gardens, and sizzling beef from the grills of its restaurants; with impromptu performances of traditional music and dance likely to break out at any moment; with the warm sun on your shoulders as you walk down the street.

The city was founded in 1582 by Hernando de Lerma, who was then governor of neighboring Tucuman province, and so there is accordingly a good deal of history here to be discovered. The cultural richness is among the best-preserved in the country. Whoever said there are no native people left in Argentina has not traveled in Salta. Indigenous culture is alive and well in the music and the arts of this region. In the scattered adobe homes and ranchos of the backcountry it's rare to see a white face, and the plaintive flutes and charangos of Andean music blend with the guitars of the gauchos everywhere you go.

	Urban gauchos Many gauchos today make their living selling their goods on the plaza - a far cry from the lonely sojourning cowboy life of yesteryear.

The activities grouped around the central Plaza 9 de Julio are worthy of a day in themselves, if you have it to spare. A leisurely breakfast of medialunas (a sweet, glazed croissant), café con leche and fresh-squeezed orange juice in any of ample outdoor dining areas will give you a chance to watch the children feeding the pigeons and the morning light playing on the Neoclassical rose-colored, domed Salta Cathedral as the crowd rushes by. If you' re lucky, there' ll be a feria set up where artisans are selling their wares, or an impromptu tango or folkloric dance performance.

Take a few quiet moments to peruse the grounds of the Cathedral, where graceful arches lead to a jasmine-filled courtyard and a shop that sells saintly souvenirs or “Santeria”. The Cathedral' s interior is a fine example of the soaring, domed spaces of worship you will find throughout the region. Included among the wealth of religious iconography are a collection of brightly painted frescoes and a monument to the remains of Revolutionary War hero General Guemes. There you will also find, frequently surrounded by gatherings of devout Salteños praying at all hours of the day, corresponding chapels dedicated to El Señor and La Virgen de los Milagros. According to Salta legend, it was the miraculous presence of these powerful images that spared Salta from destruction from the violent earthquakes that have periodically devastated other cities in the region. The statues, whose distinctive images of Jesus and Mary were found floating in a box off the coast of Peru in 1592 a century after Columbus' arrival in the Americas - were taken at some point to Salta. A century later, in September of 1692, a series of earthquakes began to shake the region. As legend has it, a priest received instructions in a dream that he was to parade the images through the streets of the city for nine days, and that Salta would be spared. He followed the advice, and it seemed to have worked. Now every year in September the city celebrates the Fiesta de Milagro (festival of the miracle) in a weeklong celebration in which the images lead a solemn but festive procession through the streets.

But it's at night that the city truly comes alive. As in the rest of Argentina, I was told that "nothing really happens until after 10." So on Friday night we ventured northward into the Balcarce district of Salta, where restaurants serve juicy Argentine steaks, a traditional stew called locro and fresh-caught trout from the mountain streams. Live music booms from every other doorway - walking down the street you hear everything from traditional chacareras and zambas to the drama of the tango to the lively Carribean beat of merengue, salsa, jazz and blues. My friends and I must have looked like easy targets because a man came up to us and asked us in Spanish if we wanted to have some intensive dance lessons. “Clases de chacarera”, he specified, which caught my attention since I' d been studying folkloric music and had just learned a traditional piece of this style that originated with the gauchos.

So against our better judgment we agreed, and he led us into a club where we found ourselves face to face with two elegantly clad and very serious gauchos, a conjunto band and an expectant crowd awaiting our awkward attempts, one by one, at this traditional dance. The crowd was appreciative and loud, but I, for one, was relieved when the real folkloric dancer took over. But the night was young, and the dancers and the drummers were everywhere. We were far from the exception, as performance is not reserved for a talented few in Salta's nightlife scene. The clubs were packed until near sunrise.