On the move

Just spent a rainy few days heading up north towards Bolivia. Northern Argentina is spectacular. Miles of land with no evidence of man in sight. Colorful gorges, snaking rivers and tiny towns dot the landscape. The indigenous influence becomes far more evident as you go north. By the time I reached the border, it was clear I was heading into a very different country. I´m in Bolivia now, but stuck at a border town because of a transportation strike! It´s supposed to be lifted tonight.
At my last stop in Argentina I encountered an unusual peanut vendor. He was young, dressed in all black including a fedora style hat, and pensive. We chatted, he asked me where I was from. When I said the States, he said, "Ah the United States, they say we [Argentinians] can´t call ourselves Americans anymore." He then pulled out the book he had quoted from. The passage went on to discuss how the States has usurped the word. Though very controlled, the anti-USA ill-feeling has been palpable in all parts. It is clearly directed towards the government and not the people, but still leaves you with a sinking feeling.