The wind was genuinely insane today. I pondered if I should just return home but eventually decided to face adversity and be brave. Last time I came here, I sat at a bench nearby a tree, kind of in the middle of the park itself. This time, the waves colliding even more agressively than usual called me. And so, I got comfortable on this rock structure/human-made barricade/seating area facing the coastline. It is surprisingly hard to explain, now that I have to write it. Here is a quick (not very proportional) sketch I made, imagining how this space looks like from the sea point of view, facing the city.

Before I came here, Uruguay didn’t strike me as a mega biodiverse kind of country. Technically, it isn’t. As part of my internship, we have been researching how the climate crisis affects low-income communities in Uruguay. After spending an abnormal amount of time analyzing the Uruguayan Metereology Institute databases, I can safely confirm that this country presents very small variations in elevation, temperature and precipitation. According to the Köppen Climate Classification, this whole nation falls under one category: CAF. That basically means that Uruguay has a mild temperate climate with no specific dry season. This, together with the fact that I live in the most densely populated city of this country, led me to the conclusion that Uruguay’s biodiversity was probably very boring in comparison to its titanic neighbors Brazil and Argentina.

Last week, when I went to the Andes mountains in the argentinian province of Neuquén for a school excursion (thank you Middlebury for sponsoring this trip), I kept expressing how much I yearned for a experience like this. My lungs were happier breathing fresh air, my eyes indulged in admiring the beautiful pristine nature. I made probably 2 jokes per day of how there are virtually no mountains in Uruguay. Montevideo could not hold a candle to this place I fear.

Now that I came back, I kept wondering if I was judging too harshly. While doodling at my sit spot, a small black bird stood nearby, enjoying the 27 km/h breeze. He looked like a tiny round ball of deep shiny darkness. Now I think he might be a Mirlo Charrúa. Another small guy, lightbrown feathers, was hanging out too. Maybe a Chorlito de Collar if my memory can recognize her out of the bunch of small brown birds in this website. When I really thought about it, Montevideo presents a rich diversity of birds, apart form the classic pigeons you see in every city. The other provinces, the more rural areas, might have more surprises in store for us too.

When looking at the ripples created between the rocks, I wondered if any fishes called that small enclosure home. I also remembered that a friend had talked about some submarine exploration happening. I looked into it while writing this post and it turns out that, between August 22 and September 19, the program Uruguay SUB200 livestreamed their deep sea exploration. After all this, I felt kind of silly for describing Uruguay’s biodiversity as boring. Yes, it might not have a bajillion different climates and altitudes, but if one chooses to analyze with intent, there is a lot to be found. Tomorrow I’m going “hiking” with my friends, now more open to the idea that Uruguay’s quiet biodiversity might continue to surprise me if I give it a chance.