Saludos Amigos

A fond greeting to you

A warm handshake or two

Good friends always

A new's waiting to start

You must meet it

Wake up and greet it

With a gay song in your heart

Here's an unusual expedition:

artists, musicians and writers setting

out for a trip through Latin America...

to find new personalities, music

and dances for their cartoon films.

Three days later they glided in

to Rio de Janeiro, Brazil...

then down to the Argentine,

Buenos Aires...

and out across the pampas.

At Cordoba, the party divided.

Some flew over the Andes into Chile.

The others went north

to the Inca country...

Bolivia, Peru

and Lake Titicaca...

turning away from the modern cities

to find the descendants...

of ancient Inca civilization.

Eight thousand square miles of water

over two miles above sea level...

Lake Titicaca has been prominent in Inca

history and folklore for generations.

Wood is scarce at this altitude...

so the fishermen's boats

are woven of balsa reeds.

There's always plenty of colour

and excitement here on market day.

These folks come from miles around

to trade their goods...

and swap some of the local gossip.

The styles run to bright-coloured

clothes and conservative hats...

and a rumble seat for the baby.

Just the kind of material

the artists were after.

Their music is strange and exotic...

melodies handed down

from their Inca ancestors.

And walking haystacks

are right in tempo.

These little syncopated burros

bear the heavy burdens here...

because the more dignified llama

will carry us to much and no more.

When his quota is exceeded,

that haughty aristocrat of the Andes...

calmly sits down

and refuses to budge.

Yes, a llama can make you feel

awfully unimportant.

All these impressions, together with the

local colour that had been absorbed...

resulted in a little travelogue...

seeing the land of the Incas

through the eyes...

of a celebrated North American tourist.

Lake Titicaca is approximately

13,000 feet above sea level.

- 13,000 feet!

- Hmm, approximately.

At this great height, many visitors are

subject to altitude fever, or soroche.

- Is that so?

- The most common symptom is dizziness.

Dizziness? Aw, phooey!

Often followed

by palpitation of the heart.

The ears have a tendency to pop.

And a peculiar

ringing sound is heard.

Fascinating, isn't it?

The balsa, or basket boat...

is constructed entirely

of reeds tightly bound together.

It's built to withstand

the fury of the elements.

In fact, it seems to be impervious

to practically everything...

except the inquisitive tourist.

Crossing the lake

is often filled with adventure.

A strong wind

may arise very suddenly...

and then stop suddenly.

For the artist

in search of local colour...

the marketplace presents an

excellent picture of village life...

as shoppers and merchants

bustle about the public square.

The precipitous terrain in this region

offers no problem to these hearty folk.

And we find the people here

divided into two classes...

those who walk against the wind...

and those who walk with the wind.

Yes, wherever the visitor

points his camera...

he finds a picture fit for framing.

The llama, or "yama",

is an odd-looking individual...

with considerable personality.

His master, here, exercises

complete control over him...

with a home-made flute.

is quickly interpreted

by this wide-awake youngster.

The visitor never seems to be satisfied

until he tries on the native costume.

And our tourist is no exception.

The llama is obviously

not a jitterbug...

but if you want to explore

this precipitous country...

hell solve all your

transportation problems.

One soon becomes accustomed

to the low, fleecy clouds...

that steal like silent ghosts

across one's path.

The gentle undulating gait of the llama

adapts itself very nicely...

to the swaying motion

of the suspension bridge.

Suspension bridge?

Oh, no!

Far below us, we see the village.

Whoa! Whoa-oa!

The flute.

Give me that flute, ya big palooka!

Hey! Take it easy!

Whoa! Whoa-oa!

What?

The traveller should be cautioned

against any reckless behaviour...

at this high altitude.

Overexertion is dangerous.

And above all, one should

never lose one's temper.

Shut up, ya big windbag!

Get off of me!

Go on, beat it!

Doggone you.

And finally, the pottery market...

where the visitor always drops in...

seldom failing to accumulate

a large collection...

of the native handiwork,

as he bids a fond farewell...

to the land of the Incas,

Lake Titicaca.

The flight across the Andes

into Chile...

over the highest mountains in America.

Plenty to see and remember

on this spectacular trip.

Since no cameras are allowed here...

the boys have to cover this

from memory and sketches.

Impressions of Uspallata Pass

from 16,000 feet.

These sketches and the stories

told of the pioneer mail planes...

that first flew this route

started everyone thinking.

First a little plane

began to take shape...

with a personality all his own.

All agreed that he had

good screen possibilities...

and before the plane set down

at Santiago...

his life story had begun.

Once upon a time in a little airport

near Santiago, Chile...

there lived three aeroplanes:

the papa plane, the mama plane

and the baby plane.

The papa plane was a big,

powerful male plane.

Mama plane was

a middle-sized female plane.

And the baby plane was

a little boy plane named Pedro.

Uh, where is Pedro?

Oh, there he is. Maybe someday...

hell grow up to be a big plane

like his father...

who carries the mail

between Chile and Argentina.

Like all fledglings,

Pedro went to ground school...

to learn the ABC's of flying.

He studied reading,

skywriting and arithmetic.

He was taught anatomy.

He also studied history...

Pedro! And geography.

And in geography, he learned the mail

route between Santiago and Mendoza.

Over the mighty Andes,

past Aconcagua...

highest mountain

in the Western Hemisphere.

One day the papa plane was laid up

with a cold in his cylinder head.

So he couldnt fly the mail.

And the mama plane

couldnt stand the altitude...

because she had high oil pressure.

So she couldnt fly the mail.

But the mail must go through...

I hope.

Calli Pedro.

Ready for Flight 2 to Mendoza.

"Now, remember, Pedro",

the mama plane said...

"stay out of downdraught

and keep your muffler on tight. "

And dont go near Aconca...

Aconca... Aconcagua!

Flight 2 leaving for Mendoza.

All clear, Pedro.

Let 'er go.

Give 'er the gun, boy!

Gun 'er! Gun 'er!

Dont lose you ring speed!

Pull up!! Pull up!!

Look out!

And so, after a masterly takeoff...

Pedro started on

his first assignment...

to pick up the mail at Mendoza.

Each and every trip through

this pass is an adventure in itself.

At this altitude,

you never can tell what...

Downdraught!

Pulled out of that one all right.

Handles himself like a veteran.

His course carried him

over the Pass of Uspallata...

where stands the statue

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