Living in a Casa Rodante

Living in a Casa Rodante

Living in a Casa Rodante

During my 5 weeks in El Chalten, Argentina I lived in a casa rodante or casilla. When I arrived my friend, Mica, was living in this tiny trailer and invited me to live with her for the length of my stay. Although we both barely fit in the teeny space between the table, sink, and bunk-beds, by the time we departed I had grown to love the orange airstream from the 70s. Living there taught me a lot about how little you need to be happy. I lived simply and I lived joyfully.

I’ve had some requests for pictures of the casa rodante and I found some casilla-inspired writing I did while living there. So, here’s a snippet of my El Chalten life.

 

02-19-16
I wake up shaking. Still half in the dream world induced by my wonderfully warm orange sleeping bag I at first think there is an earth quake. However, as my brain sheds layers of sleep I realize that the entire house is shuddering. The wind sweeping down the valley above El Chalten is relentless and powerful. I feel as though at any moment the tiny trailer will be swept up and I’ll become another Dorothy transported to the land of Oz. Now, just where did I leave my ruby slippers? The shaking does inspire a little fear, but I decide it’s just another test of trusting the world and slip further down into the feathery warmth of my sleeping bag that is tucked into an astronaut-sized sleeping space above the bed where Mica is sleeping peacefully. I love this “casita.” I love El Chalten. And so I trust the winds are just playing with our home and trust I’ll wake up shaking again.

 

03-17-16

La Casilla

I step out of the casilla

to wind in my face shaking the trailer behind me, sun bright in my eyes to squint up at the blue sky, and a smile of joy stretching my lips.

I step out of the casilla

into the twilight hour of golden light, deepening colors in the valley, and turning clouds sending air of autumn scents.

I step out of the casilla

to twinkle-lights above forming a Milky Way of wonder as firelight flickers from the aroma-wafting asado in the campground accompanied by drumbeats and laughter.

I step out of the casilla

bleary eyes suddenly awake to sky-on-fire sweeping clouds above the Paredon rock face and opposite mountain peaks warmed by dawn light.

I step out of the casilla

turning to see a reflection smile on a travel hungry face framed by door and backpack, freckles and adventure.

I step out of the casilla

and breath in home.

 

 

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