“The Endless Road”

Text: Pablo Santamaría

Review: Cintia Peri

Final version

Even when I was a child, I was not afraid of darkness.

It was a time of low houses, few street lights and vacant lots which, in hot summer nights
became the perfect fields for hunting fireflies.

Gripping my jar, I got lost in the brushwood and collected as many fireflies as I could, just to
impress the guys.

Once out, lying on my back at the entrance of a lot, with the jar by my side and still breathless
from the expedition, I watched how a million stars squeezed in a kind of ribbon very much like
a swarm of fireflies.

Another beautiful night in which the sky has let me photograph its stars.

While processing the pictures, surrounded by my equipment, I recall my first childish tries with
the family Polaroid.

Unaware of such things as focal distance, time or exposition sensitivity, no matter how many
rolls I wasted, no star turned up on my polaroids, increasing my frustration and my parents’
disgust.

Until my uncle took pity on me after my last punishment and gave me a book that would bring
some light to my temporary blindness.

Then I confirmed, among other things, that stars were also suns.

And I found out that there were people whose job was to scan the night sky with huge
instruments located in sites called astronomical observatories.

But the greatest revelation, the one that fully astonished me, was to discover in an appendix to
the book that Argentina was home of a number of such observatories.
And there, alone in my room, I suddenly had an urgent need to visit them.

And in my mind, before losing myself in my dreams, I planned the trip and listed many good
reasons to give to my parents.

After all, I had all the right to know why the stars did not show up on my polaroids.

Cordoba.

This year the Astronomical Observatory will be 92 years old.

It was Sarmiento who invited the North American astronomer Benjamin Gould to analyze the
possibility of building an observatory.

Cordoba was chosen due to its geographic location, one of the best in South America.

The observatory inherited the scientific tradition of that initial era, which still prevails in the
field.

In its opening ceremony, President Sarmiento would proclaim, with his extraordinary vision:

“I say that we have to renounce to the range of nation or to the title of civilized population if
we do not do our part in progress and in the advance of sciences.”

My journey brings me to the Mediterranean city of Cordoba.

Cradle of the oldest university in the country, it would also witness, by the second half of the
19th Century the professionalization of Astronomy.

In the halls of the first national astronomical observatory, I am welcomed by this student who
will be my guide in this revealing story.

There are as many passions as stars.

In his voice and eyes I perceive that love for stars nurtured in the dark nights of his home
town.

Argentina Astronomy was born, he tells me, from a simple question.

In a clear night, can we count all the stars we can see at first sight?
Let’s imagine, says my guide, some idle shepherds in quiet nights, centuries away from the
invention of television, naming the stars and pointing at them with their fingers.

They would make a list of stars: a stellar catalogue.

By the 19th Century, with patience and proper equipment, in the north hemisphere they had
completed the catalogue of the stars that were visible over their heads.

In our south hemisphere latitudes, this task was far from being finished.

To do so, Cordoba’s Astronomical Observatory was born.

This and other catalogues created in Cordoba, provided our country’s Astronomy with a
perdurable world recognition.

But, beyond that recognition, Astronomy became an essential element in the erection of our
country.

In a time with no artificial satellite network or GPS in every cell phone, we used to watch the
stars to take measurements on the ground.

This way, my guide says, more precise land maps could be prepared for the exploration and
demarcation of boundaries in our territory.

To finish the tour and feed my passion for photographing the sky, a surprise was waiting for
me at the library.

While today astronomical photography is something usual, in the second half of the 10th
Century, it was still in its infancy.

Without the modern devices that are today built-in even in the cameras of our mobile phones,
photographies were taken on glass plates coated in an appropriate emulsion to record the
stellar pictures.

Here, in Cordoba, along a decade, a thousand and five hundred photographic plates of starts,
planets and comets were made, producing the first large-scale astrophotography record in the
world.

By the time of its foundation, the observatory was located in a high area away from
downtown.

However, it was eventually swallowed by a populated neighbor called Observatory

Neighborhood (Barrio Observatorio).

To get back the sky of my childhood, I will have to head again to the mountains.
5

I am not travelling alone.

I am part of a group made up of students, professionals and amateurs in search of a night

riddled with stars in the “Bosque Alegre Astrophysics Station”.

Enthusiasm is contagious.

I am travelling with the people in charge of assisting the visitors to the complex and with the
shift operator of the telescope, who is the ultimate responsible for controlling the equipment
during observations.

They tell me that, at the beginning of the 20th Century, new and greater telescopes had to be
built to reveal stars in detail, giving rise to astrophysics.

At the Cordoba observatory, they began the construction of 1.5-meter diameter telescope, the
same size than the biggest telescope built at the time.

At the same time, they looked for the best site to mount it. The place chosen was the peak of
San Ignacio hill, within a fifteen-hectare field, about 50 km away from Cordoba city.

Standing here, over a thousand meters above sea level, I think about the effort made by skilled
engineers, constructors and mechanics to carry out the complex tasks involved in the
construction of the observatory.

From the opening of the access road, the leveling of the hill’s peak, up to the erection of the
building that would host the telescope: a mass of almost 20-meter diameter crowned by an
80-ton dome.

In addition to all this, they had the construction of the astronomers’ shelter, a power station to
supply electricity and a system of pipelines and cisterns to provide water, the vital fluid.

Mounting the telescope was a great achievement; and transporting the pieces on trucks was a
challenge to the expertise of drivers, who had to avoid precipices and go up steep slopes.

At sunset, I prepare my cameras to catch the sky under a mist they tell me will disperse.

Meanwhile, the operator begins to check the operation of the equipment from the control
room.

As the evening approaches, the sky turns increasingly dark, the temperature decreases, and
finally, in a clear sky, the stars appear.

We look up and we get immersed in their beauty until the next sunrise.
6

The journey continues in the city of La Plata.

Destined to be the capital city of the province of Buenos Aires, it was planned from scratch,
with diagonal streets, wide roads and squares at intersections, decorated with jacarandas and
perfumed by the lime trees.

The astronomical observatory was born with the city itself in the decade of 1880.

The germ was the observation of Venus passing over the sun in 1882, an experience shared
with French astronomers.

At that time, events of this type mobilized the resources of the entire astronomical
community, since they allowed a more accurate calculation of the distance between our planet
and the sun.

A little over a decade after the construction of Cordoba's Observatory, the second Observatory
in the country was inaugurated in La Plata.

Following the same spirit, it would also carry out important practical tasks, such as the registry
of the weather conditions and the determination of coordinates to create more accurate
provincial maps.

By the beginning of the 20th century, the observatory was extraordinarily equipped with
instruments and constructions that would astonish its visitors.

True to the city style, the buildings were designed following a French concept.

That Versailles touch can still be breathed when exploring this beautiful park that bustles with
activity.

Today, the teaching and non-teaching staff, technicians, students and researchers, work, study
and investigate in this site full of domes, meteorological instruments, antennas, GPS receivers,
workshops and a modern planetarium.

In its classrooms, the formation of new groups of astronomers is of the utmost importance.

For, after all, the observatory was one of the pillars on which the National University of La
Plata was founded, and gave rise to the first astronomy school in the country in the decade of
1930, the origin of the Faculty of Astronomical and Geophysical Sciences.

Night falls.

It is clear that the proximity of the Rio de La Plata, the growth of the city and the presence of a
Petrochemical station, do not favor the continuous observation.
However, the activity does not decline.

Under a centennial dome, visitors can watch the sky through a large telescope for the first
time.

A child's eyes light up when the universe appears in Saturn's rings.

A few meters away, under another dome, a group of researchers and students is preparing to
start another round of observation to monitor the change in brightness of a dying star.

La Plata astronomers will be with me in my road to San Juan's skies.

But before that, I will travel to the heart of the city of Buenos Aires.

Throughout our country, there are many astronomy enthusiasts and amateurs who gather in
various non-profit groups to disseminate and cultivate the passion to observe the night sky.

The "Argentine Association of Friends of Astronomy", founded in Buenos Aires in 1929, is the
oldest in the country.

In its Parque Centenario building, submerged in the concrete jungle, I can see first hand the
historic telescope used in the observation of the transit of Venus, the seed of La Plata
Observatory.

Perfectly preserved, still in use, under a beautiful wooden dome that opens manually, it is a
jewel to be discovered by visitors.

For many professionals, the association preserves that affection of the first contact with
astronomy.

That special place provided them with advice and workshops in their childhood or
adolescence to build their own telescopes.

Thanks to the perseverance of its members in organizing multiple activities, this contact is
ensured for new generations.

The journey traced by the observatories leads me to the city of San Juan, marked by a tragic
event which would also give rise to the "Felix Aguilar Astronomical Observatory."
On the evening of 15 January 1944, a devastating earthquake shook the city.

The Hispanic and colonial San Juan collapsed in a matter of seconds and families lost their
homes and many of their loved ones.

After the national government established a reconstruction committee, the rebuilding of the
city would start with the implementation of earthquake-resistant structures.

Under the reconstruction plan, some funds were used to build an astronomical observatory on
a piece of land donated by the province.

The observatory would begin modestly with equipment that belonged to one of the founding
partners of the "Argentine Association of Friends of Astronomy".

Although soon enough, thanks to agreements with other national and international
institutions, the venue would be populated with new constructions to host various observation
programs the international community would require in the southern hemisphere.

One of them would be the seed of one of the two observatories located at the foot of San Juan
mountain range.

My next stop.

We have been watching the night sky with curious eyes since forever.

Under the starry sky, we feel a call.

An echo that resounds.

An echo that invites us to sail its vastness with the same reckless spirit with which we cross
oceans and climb mountains.

To do so, faithful to our inventiveness, we build bigger and bigger telescopes to reach those
regions the naked eye cannot see.

But if we want to embark on long exploration nights, we need to choose places where the sky
is clear; cloudy nights and cities, with their dazzling lights and pollution, should be as far away
as possible.

In the decade of 1960, the search for appropriate sites for the installation of two astronomical
complexes ended in the aridity of the Andean Range foothills, in the southwest of the province
of San Juan, at the heart of the Sierra del Tontal and facing the fertile valley of Calingasta, in
the current "El Leoncito National Park".

From the height, around two thousand five hundred meters above sea level, the clean air
offers a respite to my tired city lungs, while my view rejoices in this dreamlike landscape of
hills and mountains.

The silence is also remarkable: the nearest town is the village of Barreal, approximately 35
kilometers away.

Among so many peaks, there is a strange earthy plain virtually unique in the world: Barreal
Blanco.

The dry basin of an old lagoon that forms a flat surface without any obstacles in sight for miles.

When the gale starts blowing in the afternoon, it is used as a track for sand yachting, a
recreational activity of "sailing" vehicles driven by the wind.

When night falls and the stars light up in a truly dark sky that I can feel within reach of my
hands, it is clear that all the astronomical conditions necessary for our expedition are met.

To preserve the sky free from all the pollution and deterioration produced by man, about 90
thousand hectares of land became the twenty-seventh national park in the country and the
first to recognize the protection of the sky as a fundamental mission.

Reporting to the San Juan observatory, the "Cesco Astronomical Station", is the first with a
presence in the park, since the mid-1960s.

The initial purpose of its construction, in conjunction with two American institutions, was to
join a global observational program that would determine the structure of our galaxy, the
Milky Way, from the southern hemisphere.

More than 30 million of stars of the southern hemisphere have been observed with this
instrument over years of patient observations.

The second observatory within the park is the "El Leoncito Astronomical Complex," (the
CASLEO), in operation since the second half of the decade of 1980.

The story of this observation complex deserves a chapter of its own: in the observatory of La
Plata, they had decided to purchase and mount a two-meter fifteen diameter telescope.

The largest telescope in the country.

A mass that even with its 40 tons of weight moves with exquisite precision to follow the sky.

As the people involved in the project told me, the telescope arrived at La Plata observatory on
a stormy day of 1970.

Large trucks brought the huge mechanical and optical parts.

Even the traffic had to be interrupted and the street wires cut.

The parts were stored for 15 years in their wooded boxes until the facilities in El Leoncito were
completed.

And eventually they departed to their destination... on another stormy and rainy day, where
one would expect a heavy snowfall in the mountain.

"I do not believe in witches or in UFOs, but God knows they exist!…" jokes one of the
protagonists of this epic.

I am Gordon Newman, Project Manager, in charge of the

commissioning of the great 2.15 telescope and

of the start up of El Leoncito Astronomical Complex.

A national center of the Republic of Argentina

devoted to astronomy, which can be exploited

by every astronomer in the country and abroad to perform

their observations.

I work in the Felix Aguilar Astronomic Observatory, that

depends on the National University of San Juan, and I represent

the University before the scientific committee.

I am a member of the committee that is composed of

representatives of the three universities: La Plata,

Cordoba and San Juan,

which are part of

this astronomic complex, along with the CONICET and the

Secretariat of Research of the Nation.

In my brief stay, I witness the arduous and unconventional work done at these isolated
observatories at the height.

An astronomer will only be here a couple of times a year to observe.

Even in the CASLEO, thanks to advances in technology, this can be done from the comfort of
the home.

But the maintenance of the equipment requires well organized high-quality technical staff in
precision mechanics and metallurgy workshops, and in electronics, optics and computing
laboratories.

And, indeed, to provide the complex with the necessary comforts for daily living, cooking and
cleaning personnel is of vital importance, as attested to by the succulent meals and the
refreshing rest of every day.

All the staff, who comes from San Juan and nearby towns, works at shifts of eight calendar
days with six consecutive rest days.

Away from their families, they are absent from birthdays, anniversaries and important events,
although they have an adoptive family here.

10

In search of the perfect photo of the starry sky, I started this journey traced by the
astronomical observatories in the country.

There, the astronomers sail towards courses inspired by human curiosity.

But this is not a solo trip: each observation of the sky in an observatory is, in the end, a
collective journey that involves the dedication and effort of each and every one of its
members.

Since 19th century Cordoba, we have had an astronomy tradition, not only made by history.

Currently, new observation sites are being built to the north, in the great height of Salta's
Puna.

In the coming years, these points of departure for the exploration of the sky will require the
knowledge and skills of all the institutions.

Certainly, new and exciting expeditions are waiting for us.

11

In the big cities we perceive time through a dizzying succession of activities that overwhelm us.

Even at night, when the natural rhythm sends us to rest, the artificial lighting, which has
certainly brought us comfort, allows for a never-sleeping city.

Immersed in the day-to-day concerns, our perception of space is limited to the immediate
surroundings, at the height of our eyes.

And if, by chance, we raise our eyes to heaven, only a few bright stars, a planet and the moon
can be seen in a gray-orange sky.

The lights of the cities have polluted the night sky.

It is then not surprising for us to be dazzled by those night skies away from the city, which
display their most radiant splendor.

Under these skies, we can still feel time and space vibrating within ourselves in their primitive
essence, the one that taught us how to plant our seeds at seasons' pace in our nomad
journeys.

This simple and direct connection with the cosmos represents a relic for us, people of large
cities.

But it is extremely profound.

Today, we know that our atoms were born within the stars.

And here, covered by this truly dark sky, we understand that the cosmos is not far away, but
that we are a part of it, and that by observing the sky we look at us.

This is the true cosmic connection.

12

It is remarkable how much the moon can illuminate us.

And while for a stars hunter it may be a nuisance, I cannot avoid photographing it for I
understand of how much help its brightness must have been to our nomadic ancestors.
And in this cyclical change in the visible form of the moon over a month, our ancestors saw a
representation of the generations' cycle of all living beings.

Birth, growth, decline and back to the beginning.

Under this dark dome stars march in a procession that has not ceased to be explored
millennium after millennium, with a cadence we finally caught on calendars and clocks.

Every time we arrange an appointment, setting time, day, month and year, we are honoring
the centuries of careful observations of the movements of the sun and the moon.

13

I am a starlight hunter.

The night is my place.

But we must not forget that the sun, which shines on us every day, is, in the end, also another
star.

And on this trip I have been given the opportunity to capture one of the most beautiful
astronomical phenomena worthy to be observed: an eclipse of the sun.

Although centuries of observations allowed civilizations such the Babylonian and the Maya to
learn how to predict this phenomenon, if you live your whole life in one place, it is unlikely that
you will see an eclipse of the sun.

Then, it can be easily understood why we thought that the moon was devoured by the sun and
that we had to dance at the sound of the drums to scare this conflict of cosmic proportions
away.

Today, we are no longer scared about this; to see the sun fading away, I have to travel down
the path traced by the shadow of the moon.

Going through lakes and mountains, delving into the Patagonian steppe.

There, the moon will stand between us and the sun.

And even though the eclipse will not be total on this occasion, just a thin ring of fire will be
visible and, perhaps, if we listen carefully, the drums will reverberate once again.
14

Since ancient times, man populated the sky with figures that today seem whimsical to us, the
product of an unrestrained imagination.

We have always enjoyed being told stories; and those stories told by a fire, with the starry sky
as a backdrop, transmitted from mouth to mouth, generation after generation, became the
myths and legends of every nation in every corner of the globe.

This blurred ribbon of light that I have chased since I was a kid and which we call the Milky
Way, literally means "the path of milk", since, according to the Greco-Roman myths, originated
from the milk poured out of the baby lips of that demigod called Hercules.

This idea of a path is common to many cultures.

The Vikings claimed that it led to the Valhalla, the destiny of the souls of those dead in an
honorable battle.

In Spain, it is known as the Camino de Santiago, as it was used as a guide by the pilgrims to
that site.

Around these lands, the Guarani people called it Tape-Cué, the everlasting way, since they
believed that the first inhabitants of the earth had arrived walking on it and that it would be
the path followed by the man to go back to the far reaches of the cosmos.

15

Today, under this clear sky full of stars, making my childhood dreams come true, I cannot help
but falling under the spell of the night.

All traces of tiredness and cold disappear in the placidity of this landscape.

Here, I get the most spectacular lesson of humility: every eagerness, desire, greed and
ambition is now minor, inconsequential.

United with the earth and the sky, with our ancestors and our descendants, for an instant, I go
over that eternal path that crosses the sky.

THE END