Hello all! It's been a while since we got settled here and lots of things have happened. We're loving our classes, co-teachers, and apartment. We've reconnected with old friends, gotten to know new friends, explored around Bundang, and pretty much gotten re-adjusted to Korea.
In the time since we last posted, we've taught, re-organized our apartment, re-visited a palace in Seoul with Cynthia (our other foreign co-worker), seen a traditional market, read a ridiculous amount of books, gone hiking, shown my mom around Seoul (she visited for a long weekend in September - wonderful but way too short), taken our students on a field trip to a farm and recreation area in Yongin, and travelled to nearby Chuncheon. We took taekwondo classes for a few months, but since the schedule doesn't work out too well, we're probably replacing that time with running and biking (we found wonderful bikes on Craigslist)... Other than that, things are pretty normal. Of course, in Korea that means hectic, busy, and crazy but in a good way for the most part.
I'm currently working on getting all our photos from our Latin America trip online (Facebook and SmugMug). Currently, all photos from Argentina, Belize, Chile, Colombia, Ecuador, Guatemala and Mexico are up, as well as the photos from Steph and Mike's wedding. Click on the link to "Photos" at the top of this webpage to view all the albums. Photos from Panama, Peru, and recent photos from South Korea are in the works. Thank you for your patience, there are a lot of photos to sort through :-)
In the meantime, don't worry - all is well. Have a wonderful Sunday!
-J&J
Showing posts with label Chile. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chile. Show all posts
27 September 2009
26 January 2009
Santiago, Valparaiso, and nearby areas in Chile, plus our first day in Mexico
After leaving Chiloé we headed to Concepción, felt like continuing north, and booked it to Santiago, where we spent about 5 days wandering, basking in the sun, eating (we found Korean food!), and taking photos of random patterns (Jay felt inspired).
When we'd had our fill of Chile's very European city, we headed west back to Valparaíso to spend a wonderful near-week with my host family. During our time there, Carlos and Andrés took us to Limache/Olmue, and a laguna near Valparaíso with koi fish big enough to devour a small person. Carlos introduced us to the newest members of the family (baby chickens!), Jay shaved his beard off, we saw pupeteers in central Viña, Bobi (the dog) bumped into people and walls because of the cone he had to wear around his head, Adela beat some Spanish knowledge into Jay, Andrés treated us to his movie and music collection, and much food was prepared and eaten. It was relaxing, natural, and absolutely wonderful to stay with them again, and Jay was able to communicate quite a bit, which was pretty darn impressive.
When it was time to leave, Adela, Carlos and Andrés got up at 4-something in the morning to drive us to the airport in Santiago and insisted that we must come back to Chile again soon (they've decided that 2011 would be good).
Sad to leave but glad to travel, we boarded our plane to Bogotá´s airport (which, by the way, blows US airports out of the way as far as intimidating security) for a few hours, and then to Mexico City: Third-largest city in the world, 1st-largest in the western hemisphere. Flying in just before sunset, we saw the whole city just sprawl out into the horizon without visible boarders... it's pretty intimidating!
We took a taxi to our hostel (dorm-style bedrooms, but huge, clean building in a great location next to a park and near metro and lots of restaurants in the Coyoacán area), dropped off our stuff, and went out to eat.
Wow. What a change from meat, potatoes, palta (avocado) and bread. I love my host family, and I do love Chile and most of the other cities we saw in South America, but the only time we really got varied or spicy food was in Santiago´s one Korean restaurant and at my host family's house. On our first night in Mexico, for about a dollar per dish, we got quesadillas (corn and flour tortillas to fulfil Jay's long-time cravings), tacos of cactus (nopales) and cheese, horchata (a milky-watery-cinnamon drink), guacamole, and a minitower of salsas and dips for our chips. We are in culinary heaven.
The next day (today), we walked around the historical center, exploring the cathedral, the national palace with its murals and botanical garden, and random sidestreets in the area. We're still working on final details with our Oaxaca language program, but for now we'll be staying in wonderful Mexico City, enjoying the absurdly-cheap and far-reaching metro system, and sampling lots and lots of fabulous food.
More details and photos to come, but for now...
When we'd had our fill of Chile's very European city, we headed west back to Valparaíso to spend a wonderful near-week with my host family. During our time there, Carlos and Andrés took us to Limache/Olmue, and a laguna near Valparaíso with koi fish big enough to devour a small person. Carlos introduced us to the newest members of the family (baby chickens!), Jay shaved his beard off, we saw pupeteers in central Viña, Bobi (the dog) bumped into people and walls because of the cone he had to wear around his head, Adela beat some Spanish knowledge into Jay, Andrés treated us to his movie and music collection, and much food was prepared and eaten. It was relaxing, natural, and absolutely wonderful to stay with them again, and Jay was able to communicate quite a bit, which was pretty darn impressive.
When it was time to leave, Adela, Carlos and Andrés got up at 4-something in the morning to drive us to the airport in Santiago and insisted that we must come back to Chile again soon (they've decided that 2011 would be good).
Sad to leave but glad to travel, we boarded our plane to Bogotá´s airport (which, by the way, blows US airports out of the way as far as intimidating security) for a few hours, and then to Mexico City: Third-largest city in the world, 1st-largest in the western hemisphere. Flying in just before sunset, we saw the whole city just sprawl out into the horizon without visible boarders... it's pretty intimidating!
We took a taxi to our hostel (dorm-style bedrooms, but huge, clean building in a great location next to a park and near metro and lots of restaurants in the Coyoacán area), dropped off our stuff, and went out to eat.
Wow. What a change from meat, potatoes, palta (avocado) and bread. I love my host family, and I do love Chile and most of the other cities we saw in South America, but the only time we really got varied or spicy food was in Santiago´s one Korean restaurant and at my host family's house. On our first night in Mexico, for about a dollar per dish, we got quesadillas (corn and flour tortillas to fulfil Jay's long-time cravings), tacos of cactus (nopales) and cheese, horchata (a milky-watery-cinnamon drink), guacamole, and a minitower of salsas and dips for our chips. We are in culinary heaven.
The next day (today), we walked around the historical center, exploring the cathedral, the national palace with its murals and botanical garden, and random sidestreets in the area. We're still working on final details with our Oaxaca language program, but for now we'll be staying in wonderful Mexico City, enjoying the absurdly-cheap and far-reaching metro system, and sampling lots and lots of fabulous food.
More details and photos to come, but for now...
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| Santiago, Chile |
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| Limache and Olmué, Chile |
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| Laguna, Chile |
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| Valparaíso, Chile |
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| Mexico City, Mexico |
12 January 2009
Puerto Montt and Chiloé (where we are now)
We spent a few days in Puerto Montt before taking a ferry to Ancud for a couple days, and then a short bus ride to Castro, where we are now. Ancud and Castro are on the main island of Chiloé, an archipelago about halfway between Valparaíso and Patagonia. The weather is lovely, and the attitude is laid-back, though there aren't sandy beaches or as many tourists as we found elsewhere. We're basically enjoying being lazy for a week or so before heading back up to Valparaíso to spend more time with my host family and then make our flight on the 25th from Santiago to Mexico City. We hope to get situated with host families and classes (apparently some schools also have dance/cooking/culture classes) in Oaxaca, Mexico. We're looking forward to the food, Jay's getting ready to get into student mode, and I'm hoping to find some good volunteer oportunities and perhaps some private lessons for accent/idiom work.
In the meantime, life is good. Jay's working on learning new guitar songs and trying to teach me to play the multi-stringed instrument of doom, and we're getting our fill of seafood soups and German-ish kuchen (lots of German influence this far south).
Photos follow, updates to come. We do appreciate your e-mails and such too, so thank you all for those.
Much love from the south,
JJ
In the meantime, life is good. Jay's working on learning new guitar songs and trying to teach me to play the multi-stringed instrument of doom, and we're getting our fill of seafood soups and German-ish kuchen (lots of German influence this far south).
Photos follow, updates to come. We do appreciate your e-mails and such too, so thank you all for those.
Much love from the south,
JJ
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| Perito Moreno Glacier, Argentina |
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| El Calafate, Argentina |
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| Puerto Montt, Chile |
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| Ancud, Chiloe, Chile |
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| Castro, Chiloe, Chile |
GET US OUT OF HERE! (Leaving Puerto Natales)
Puerto Natales, Chile to El Calafate, Argentina - from 1-2 January, 2009
We spent New Year's day resting and hanging out in the city to wash clothes and re-adjust to non-camping travel. We hoped to take the morning bus to El Calafate on the 2nd of January and, after being told by the hostel owner's husband that there would be no problems buying tickets through them the day/night before the bus left, we were shocked and upset to discover that no tickets were left when we asked. Not one. And why didn't we ask earlier, asked the owner when we talked to her... She told us there might be an afternoon bus, but that she wouldn't find out until the next morning. We asked again and again whether they'd heard any news the next day, but the only person there was the husband, and he kept telling us his wife would know and he couldn't help us.
We were all very bitter about having to spend an extra day in Puerto Natales, as the stores and restaurants were mostly still closed and, apart from getting ready to go on a trip elsewhere, there's really not much to do here.
Figuring we'd probably be out of luck and accepting the possibility that we'd be stuck here an extra day, we bought groceries for onces and dinner. When we returned, the owners' daughter was there and we asked her if she knew about the afternoon bus. She got on the phone, called one number, and got us the 4 tickets. Hmmm... Not terribly difficult, but at least we got them. We ate a huge meal, packed, and headed out to the bus station.
The bus ride took about 5 hours, but only 30 minutes to the border (which was easy and stress-free). Carrie and I played card games and watched bouncing sheep butts (they bounce when they run, and the bus scared them when it passed), and Steph and Jay slept.
We arrived in El Calafate well after dark, but a police man in the station told us where to find hostels. There was space at the first hospedaje we found and the price was reasonable, so we took it despite the fact that the owner was grouchy and seemed to think that we might be criminals. Who cares - hot water and our first private rooms in over a week!
We spent New Year's day resting and hanging out in the city to wash clothes and re-adjust to non-camping travel. We hoped to take the morning bus to El Calafate on the 2nd of January and, after being told by the hostel owner's husband that there would be no problems buying tickets through them the day/night before the bus left, we were shocked and upset to discover that no tickets were left when we asked. Not one. And why didn't we ask earlier, asked the owner when we talked to her... She told us there might be an afternoon bus, but that she wouldn't find out until the next morning. We asked again and again whether they'd heard any news the next day, but the only person there was the husband, and he kept telling us his wife would know and he couldn't help us.
We were all very bitter about having to spend an extra day in Puerto Natales, as the stores and restaurants were mostly still closed and, apart from getting ready to go on a trip elsewhere, there's really not much to do here.
Figuring we'd probably be out of luck and accepting the possibility that we'd be stuck here an extra day, we bought groceries for onces and dinner. When we returned, the owners' daughter was there and we asked her if she knew about the afternoon bus. She got on the phone, called one number, and got us the 4 tickets. Hmmm... Not terribly difficult, but at least we got them. We ate a huge meal, packed, and headed out to the bus station.
The bus ride took about 5 hours, but only 30 minutes to the border (which was easy and stress-free). Carrie and I played card games and watched bouncing sheep butts (they bounce when they run, and the bus scared them when it passed), and Steph and Jay slept.
We arrived in El Calafate well after dark, but a police man in the station told us where to find hostels. There was space at the first hospedaje we found and the price was reasonable, so we took it despite the fact that the owner was grouchy and seemed to think that we might be criminals. Who cares - hot water and our first private rooms in over a week!
An overall look at Torres del Paine, Patagonia
Not trying to sound cliché, but there's just no other way to put it: Patagonia is a land of extremes. Our first day started with a ridiculously long and steep trek over boulders and loose rocks that left us panting and agonizing over every step (and boy did we ever feel our packs), but every time we paused to look around us, huge expanses of land stretched out in every direction and, despite the summer crowds, we felt isolated whenever we looked at anything but our own 2 feet.
After passing Campamento Chilenno, the path changed from steep, arid and rocky to relatively flat and rather muddy, with lush trees on every side and makeshift bridges formed by roots. This continued to Campamento Torres, but the "45-minute" hike to the Torres themselves brought us back scrambling over loose rocks and boulders to see the towers, huge slabs of rock, shooting up from a bright teal pool of water below.
When we moved to our next campsite, our hike was challenged by winds strong enough to knock us over --even when we braced ourselves against it. The wind came in gusts; one minute you can literally lean 45-60 degrees into the wind and have it support you, the next you're caught without so much as a breeze (so I wouldn't suggest much of that leaning). One gust nearly took Steph off a cliff, another pushed her into thistles and Carrie into a rock, (a more favorable) one lifted Jay in partial flight as he ran (packless) to check our location, and another knocked both Carrie and me into each other and to the ground. After falling, I just started laughing. It's so ridiculous, it's unreal...I can understand why some people go crazy here.
We crossed streams and rivers - some little more than marshy puddles, others strong enough to take you away with them if you lose your footing. But no matter how windy, drizzly, rocky, steep, muddy, hot, or dry it was at any given time, one thing remained constant: You could not look around without being awed by the beauty of this place. In looking over the photos I took, I wonder why I took so few, relative to the amount I take in most places. My only explanation is that it was futile to keep taking photos - they just didn't do justice to the beauty and the majesty of Patagonia...That, and if I took a photo of every breathtakingly beautiful view, we'd never make it to camp.
After passing Campamento Chilenno, the path changed from steep, arid and rocky to relatively flat and rather muddy, with lush trees on every side and makeshift bridges formed by roots. This continued to Campamento Torres, but the "45-minute" hike to the Torres themselves brought us back scrambling over loose rocks and boulders to see the towers, huge slabs of rock, shooting up from a bright teal pool of water below.
When we moved to our next campsite, our hike was challenged by winds strong enough to knock us over --even when we braced ourselves against it. The wind came in gusts; one minute you can literally lean 45-60 degrees into the wind and have it support you, the next you're caught without so much as a breeze (so I wouldn't suggest much of that leaning). One gust nearly took Steph off a cliff, another pushed her into thistles and Carrie into a rock, (a more favorable) one lifted Jay in partial flight as he ran (packless) to check our location, and another knocked both Carrie and me into each other and to the ground. After falling, I just started laughing. It's so ridiculous, it's unreal...I can understand why some people go crazy here.
We crossed streams and rivers - some little more than marshy puddles, others strong enough to take you away with them if you lose your footing. But no matter how windy, drizzly, rocky, steep, muddy, hot, or dry it was at any given time, one thing remained constant: You could not look around without being awed by the beauty of this place. In looking over the photos I took, I wonder why I took so few, relative to the amount I take in most places. My only explanation is that it was futile to keep taking photos - they just didn't do justice to the beauty and the majesty of Patagonia...That, and if I took a photo of every breathtakingly beautiful view, we'd never make it to camp.
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| Torres del Paine, Chile |
Our last days in Torres del Paine
From 30 and 31st December, 2008
The next morning Jay and I charged off ahead with gear and the stove to Campamento Italiano, where we set up camp and settled in. Steph and Carrie followed later and we ate lunch and napped while Carrie went up to the glacier. When she came back, we ade dinner (despite insane winds that threatened to blow us all away and made cooking with our camp stove REALLY difficult).
The next morning we woke up early (at about 6:00, although the sun had been up for a while) and set off for Refugio Pehoe, where we caught the absurdly expensive ferry to Refugio Pudeto. On the plus side, they did serve free tea and coffee and the views from the ferry were gorgeous and clear, treating us to views of the Cuernos and the Torres. We arrived at Pudeto and had lunch while waiting for the bus.
When we got back to Puerto Natales, we got a hostel room, took showers (hallelujah), and went to return our rented sleeping bags and stove. We hoped to have pizza again for dinner, but our favorite restaurant (along with the vast majority of all the other restaurants) was closed for New Year's Eve. We found an open restaurant, bought sandwiches and pasta, and had a lovely dinner despite the rather rushed waitress. We went home, played card cames, and toasted the new year with (not entirely cold enough) pisco sours before sleeping a much-needed full night in warm beds with no winds.
The next morning Jay and I charged off ahead with gear and the stove to Campamento Italiano, where we set up camp and settled in. Steph and Carrie followed later and we ate lunch and napped while Carrie went up to the glacier. When she came back, we ade dinner (despite insane winds that threatened to blow us all away and made cooking with our camp stove REALLY difficult).
The next morning we woke up early (at about 6:00, although the sun had been up for a while) and set off for Refugio Pehoe, where we caught the absurdly expensive ferry to Refugio Pudeto. On the plus side, they did serve free tea and coffee and the views from the ferry were gorgeous and clear, treating us to views of the Cuernos and the Torres. We arrived at Pudeto and had lunch while waiting for the bus.
When we got back to Puerto Natales, we got a hostel room, took showers (hallelujah), and went to return our rented sleeping bags and stove. We hoped to have pizza again for dinner, but our favorite restaurant (along with the vast majority of all the other restaurants) was closed for New Year's Eve. We found an open restaurant, bought sandwiches and pasta, and had a lovely dinner despite the rather rushed waitress. We went home, played card cames, and toasted the new year with (not entirely cold enough) pisco sours before sleeping a much-needed full night in warm beds with no winds.
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| Torres del Paine, Chile |
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| Torres del Paine, Chile |
The long trek and a change of plans
Torres del Paine, Chile from 29 December 2008
We returned the way we'd come for a while the next morning, passing Campamento Chileno and continuing towards the rocks until the road split and we took a different trail to go to Refugio Los Cuernos and on to Campamento Italiano. The trail was easier than the rocky hill we'd walked along the first day, but the wind was vicious, nearly blowing Stephanie off a cliff at one point and knocking Carrie and me to the ground at another point.
After getting into a comfortable but slow pattern of walk, duck and brace for wind, walk, Holy Crap DUCK! (etc), we had the hang of it and our fill of wind. We had to cross a few rivers along the way - each one more difficult than the last, until we ended up wading through the final (huge, fast and cold) river in bare feet. Wow, cold water this close to Antarctica. Despite the absurd winds and the freezing water, we were graced with beautiful, sunny weather and gorgeous views along the valleys the whole trip.
When we finally got to the expensive Refugio, we caved and paid for a spot for the tent because we weren't going to make the 2.5 hours to the free Campamento Italiano before nightfall. We ate dinner and modified our trip plan, cutting the planned "W" trail into more of a backwards "Y" to accomodate Carrie's crappy bag clasp and the fact that neither she nor Steph had ever backpacked before. The next day we'd go to Campamento Italiano, with a day hike to the glaciar for anyone who wanted to, and the next day we'd go south to catch the ferry to the bus back to Puerto Natales.
We returned the way we'd come for a while the next morning, passing Campamento Chileno and continuing towards the rocks until the road split and we took a different trail to go to Refugio Los Cuernos and on to Campamento Italiano. The trail was easier than the rocky hill we'd walked along the first day, but the wind was vicious, nearly blowing Stephanie off a cliff at one point and knocking Carrie and me to the ground at another point.
After getting into a comfortable but slow pattern of walk, duck and brace for wind, walk, Holy Crap DUCK! (etc), we had the hang of it and our fill of wind. We had to cross a few rivers along the way - each one more difficult than the last, until we ended up wading through the final (huge, fast and cold) river in bare feet. Wow, cold water this close to Antarctica. Despite the absurd winds and the freezing water, we were graced with beautiful, sunny weather and gorgeous views along the valleys the whole trip.
When we finally got to the expensive Refugio, we caved and paid for a spot for the tent because we weren't going to make the 2.5 hours to the free Campamento Italiano before nightfall. We ate dinner and modified our trip plan, cutting the planned "W" trail into more of a backwards "Y" to accomodate Carrie's crappy bag clasp and the fact that neither she nor Steph had ever backpacked before. The next day we'd go to Campamento Italiano, with a day hike to the glaciar for anyone who wanted to, and the next day we'd go south to catch the ferry to the bus back to Puerto Natales.
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| Torres del Paine, Chile |
Mirador and Laziness
From 28 December 2008
Keeping our tent in the same site, we hiked up the "45-minute" hike to the mirador (or vista point) for the Torres -- it was beautiful, but the path was steep and rocky at the end. We lost Steph somewhere along the way, too. Apparently, she asked how long the trail was, found that it was much longer, and decided to stay put as the rocks were making her nervous... But that conversation was with a stranger (probably a very confused one), although she thought she was talking with us, and we never knew what happened. Carrie and I waited for a while once we noticed she was missing (we'd been hiking at different paces), and eventually Jay came back down from his rock scrambling and volunteered to go find her. We headed on up to the top, clamboring over the boulders until the towers shot up into our view, with a green pool at their base. They were cloudy at the top, but still beautiful. We ate lunch (crackers, cheese, and salami), waited a bit to see if Steph and Jay would show up, and headed back down. We found them along the way, snacking and journaling. They explained what had happened, and we headed back to camp for dinner and games.
Keeping our tent in the same site, we hiked up the "45-minute" hike to the mirador (or vista point) for the Torres -- it was beautiful, but the path was steep and rocky at the end. We lost Steph somewhere along the way, too. Apparently, she asked how long the trail was, found that it was much longer, and decided to stay put as the rocks were making her nervous... But that conversation was with a stranger (probably a very confused one), although she thought she was talking with us, and we never knew what happened. Carrie and I waited for a while once we noticed she was missing (we'd been hiking at different paces), and eventually Jay came back down from his rock scrambling and volunteered to go find her. We headed on up to the top, clamboring over the boulders until the towers shot up into our view, with a green pool at their base. They were cloudy at the top, but still beautiful. We ate lunch (crackers, cheese, and salami), waited a bit to see if Steph and Jay would show up, and headed back down. We found them along the way, snacking and journaling. They explained what had happened, and we headed back to camp for dinner and games.
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| Torres del Paine, Chile |
Starting our trip in Patagonia
From 26 and 27 December, 2008
We got up and out at 5:15 to meet Steph and Carrie at the Turbus station in Viña to catch our bus to Santiago and then to the airport. We had an expensive and disappointing breakfast in the airport (though the fresh raspberry juice was amazing) and set off to Punta Arenas. The views from the plane were lovely and Steph and Carrie made friends with Yen, a Chinese girl sitting in their row who was also heading to Torres del Paine. The plane stopped down in 2 places before getting into Punta Arenas (yeah...we took the budget flight), so the flight felt pretty long and poor Jay accidentally left his journal on the plane, but didn't realize it until we'd left the airport.
After the plane, we caught a taxi to the bus station, got a bus to Puerto Natales, and found a hostel - 2 twin bed rooms with breakfast and a nice big common table next to a fire. We went out to dinner (Stephanie navigated us to pizza) and came back to the hostel to play Glory to Rome. Our original plan had been to go to the park the next morning, but since we got in late (and were misled by the very late sunset), we didn't manage to get groceries. So we changed our bus tickets to 2:30 instead of 7:30 and spent the next morning shopping and packing before locking up our unnecessary stuff in lockers and leaving.
We stopped just once on the 3+ hour trip to buy lunch (sandwiches) and then arrived at Torres del Paine National Park. The bus dropped us off at the entrance, where we bought tickets and then took a shuttle to the trailhead and started walking. The part from Hosteria Los Torres to Campamento Chileno was steep and rocky, and we were pretty miserable at the end. We considered staying (Ch 4,000, or about $6-7, per tent), but figured we could make it to Campamento Torres by nightfall. Just as we set off, Carrie had Jay tighten her bag and the waist clasp snapped off. Well, that did it. Jay and I started to set up the tent while Carrie and Steph went to pay, but they soon came out waving at us to stop. The price was CH $4,000 per PERSON, not per tent. To camp. About 12 inches from the next tent. No way. Carrie tied on her bag as best she could and she and I bolted forward with the tent to the next campsite (about 1.5-2 hrs away) to set up. Jay and Steph arrived (just as we were finishing and the last bit of light was disappearing), bearing the stove and cooking gear, so we cooked dinner and went to bed.
We got up and out at 5:15 to meet Steph and Carrie at the Turbus station in Viña to catch our bus to Santiago and then to the airport. We had an expensive and disappointing breakfast in the airport (though the fresh raspberry juice was amazing) and set off to Punta Arenas. The views from the plane were lovely and Steph and Carrie made friends with Yen, a Chinese girl sitting in their row who was also heading to Torres del Paine. The plane stopped down in 2 places before getting into Punta Arenas (yeah...we took the budget flight), so the flight felt pretty long and poor Jay accidentally left his journal on the plane, but didn't realize it until we'd left the airport.
After the plane, we caught a taxi to the bus station, got a bus to Puerto Natales, and found a hostel - 2 twin bed rooms with breakfast and a nice big common table next to a fire. We went out to dinner (Stephanie navigated us to pizza) and came back to the hostel to play Glory to Rome. Our original plan had been to go to the park the next morning, but since we got in late (and were misled by the very late sunset), we didn't manage to get groceries. So we changed our bus tickets to 2:30 instead of 7:30 and spent the next morning shopping and packing before locking up our unnecessary stuff in lockers and leaving.
We stopped just once on the 3+ hour trip to buy lunch (sandwiches) and then arrived at Torres del Paine National Park. The bus dropped us off at the entrance, where we bought tickets and then took a shuttle to the trailhead and started walking. The part from Hosteria Los Torres to Campamento Chileno was steep and rocky, and we were pretty miserable at the end. We considered staying (Ch 4,000, or about $6-7, per tent), but figured we could make it to Campamento Torres by nightfall. Just as we set off, Carrie had Jay tighten her bag and the waist clasp snapped off. Well, that did it. Jay and I started to set up the tent while Carrie and Steph went to pay, but they soon came out waving at us to stop. The price was CH $4,000 per PERSON, not per tent. To camp. About 12 inches from the next tent. No way. Carrie tied on her bag as best she could and she and I bolted forward with the tent to the next campsite (about 1.5-2 hrs away) to set up. Jay and Steph arrived (just as we were finishing and the last bit of light was disappearing), bearing the stove and cooking gear, so we cooked dinner and went to bed.
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| Torres del Paine, Chile |
Families in Valpo, Chile
From 25th December, 2008
We failed to get a confirmed meeting time with Cristian (Steph's host brother), so we met Steph and Carrie to go to my family's house for lunch. We watched "El Orfanato" in Spanish with Carlos and Andrés, and then ate with my family before rushing out tomeet Christian and his girlfriend at Steph's house. On the way out, Hernán gave Jay an envelope with a photo of him presenting model boats, with a dedication to Jay on the back. Adela said goodbye, calling him "Mijito" ...Granted, she adopts people easily, but I think they liked him :-)
We rushed to meet Christian, hung out with him and his girlfriend for a while, and thenwent to go buy our bus tickets to Santiago for the next morning and enjoy onces in Valparaíso - Completos (chilean hot dogs topped with tomatoes, mashed avocado, and mayo) with tea, a Chilean must - before returning to Viña for Bravissimo and travel preparations.
The next morning: Off to Patagonia!
We failed to get a confirmed meeting time with Cristian (Steph's host brother), so we met Steph and Carrie to go to my family's house for lunch. We watched "El Orfanato" in Spanish with Carlos and Andrés, and then ate with my family before rushing out tomeet Christian and his girlfriend at Steph's house. On the way out, Hernán gave Jay an envelope with a photo of him presenting model boats, with a dedication to Jay on the back. Adela said goodbye, calling him "Mijito" ...Granted, she adopts people easily, but I think they liked him :-)
We rushed to meet Christian, hung out with him and his girlfriend for a while, and thenwent to go buy our bus tickets to Santiago for the next morning and enjoy onces in Valparaíso - Completos (chilean hot dogs topped with tomatoes, mashed avocado, and mayo) with tea, a Chilean must - before returning to Viña for Bravissimo and travel preparations.
The next morning: Off to Patagonia!
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| Viña del Mar and Valparaíso, Chile |
Christmas Eve
Valparaíso, Chile from 24 December 2008
In search of Sushi, we went to Valpo to find a restaurant that Loreto had recommended, but we ended up eating somewhere else since most restaurants were closed. We wandered along the port, took photos, and called my host family to see if, even though I was pretty sure they already had visitors, we could maybe meet up while Steph and Carrie were intown. It turned out that Devon, another one of the host students from Lewis and Clark, wasn't going to be there until the weekend and my host mom (Adela), upon getting the phone away from her son, said "¡Ahhhh, mijita! ¡Ven a pasar la navidad con tú mamá!" (Ah, my daughter, come spend Christmas with your mom!) ... Well, okay! We scampared into a store to buy wine, cookies and cake and then got flowers with Steph near Plaza O'Higgins. We called Carrie's family to let them know the change in plans, and skipped off to find a micro or colectivo to Cerro Esperanza while Steph and Carrie went back to Viña to Carrie's house.
IT WAS WONDERFUL to see my host family - I'd been afraid that they would be too busy or that such short notice would be a problem, but they were great. Jay and Hernán (my host father) talked about model boats, Carlos (my host brother) and I caught up on life, and he showed us the bees he is keeping (Jay wasn't so keen on that bit). Hernán and Adela showed us how to waltz, Andrés arrived, and dinner was served. It turned out to be just the 6 of us - no extended family or friends. Carlos toasted to good company and added about Jay, "He seems like a very good man and I'm glad that he's at your side."
After dinner, Jenny's family came over (Benjamin wanted his gifts), and they stayed to talk with Adela and Hernán while Carlos, Andrés, Jay and I chatted in the living room. We stayed up talking for a long time and finally they gave us a ride home at around 2 AM. We crashed, warm, happy and well-fed.
In search of Sushi, we went to Valpo to find a restaurant that Loreto had recommended, but we ended up eating somewhere else since most restaurants were closed. We wandered along the port, took photos, and called my host family to see if, even though I was pretty sure they already had visitors, we could maybe meet up while Steph and Carrie were intown. It turned out that Devon, another one of the host students from Lewis and Clark, wasn't going to be there until the weekend and my host mom (Adela), upon getting the phone away from her son, said "¡Ahhhh, mijita! ¡Ven a pasar la navidad con tú mamá!" (Ah, my daughter, come spend Christmas with your mom!) ... Well, okay! We scampared into a store to buy wine, cookies and cake and then got flowers with Steph near Plaza O'Higgins. We called Carrie's family to let them know the change in plans, and skipped off to find a micro or colectivo to Cerro Esperanza while Steph and Carrie went back to Viña to Carrie's house.
IT WAS WONDERFUL to see my host family - I'd been afraid that they would be too busy or that such short notice would be a problem, but they were great. Jay and Hernán (my host father) talked about model boats, Carlos (my host brother) and I caught up on life, and he showed us the bees he is keeping (Jay wasn't so keen on that bit). Hernán and Adela showed us how to waltz, Andrés arrived, and dinner was served. It turned out to be just the 6 of us - no extended family or friends. Carlos toasted to good company and added about Jay, "He seems like a very good man and I'm glad that he's at your side."
After dinner, Jenny's family came over (Benjamin wanted his gifts), and they stayed to talk with Adela and Hernán while Carlos, Andrés, Jay and I chatted in the living room. We stayed up talking for a long time and finally they gave us a ride home at around 2 AM. We crashed, warm, happy and well-fed.
Our first few days in Viña/Valpo
21 to 23 December, 2008
On our first full day in Viña (and our last day before Steph and Carrie arrived), we jogged along the beautiful sunny beach and went to Valpo in search of cocadas de manjar, a delectably fattening candy that we wanted to buy for Steph and Carrie. Unfortunately, our favorite candy store was out of them, so we returned to Viña, wandered along the water, and ate fajitas while discussing a new change in plans: Going to Ecuador or Mexico after Patagonia for a month or two of Spanish classes for Jay. The fajitas definitely tilted the scales for Mexico.
The next morning, we got up and went to the bus station to go to Santiago to meet Steph and Carrie. Although their flight was originally scheduled to arrive at 12:30, they were delayed due to weather and other problems with connecting flights (I'm not positive, but I'm pretty sure Carrie's crazy flight scheduling had something to do with it). They got inat 14:15 and we greeted them with cookies and cocadas (though not as good as the ones from Confiteria Rapanui). We'd spent our waiting time eating over-priced salad and then standing in the waiting area behind a woman dressed strikingly similarly to a pop (or possibly porn) star who kept walking back and forth in front of the waiting group, distracting most of the men and (I presume) putting some of the older people in danger of cardiac arrest.
We took Steph and Carrie back to Viña and went to Carrie's house, where we were greeted by her amazing family (Pedro, Silvia, Carola, Natalia and Loreto), their pets (Roberto, Lautaro (?), and a couple other dogs), and their most recent host student, Ingrid (plus boyfriend). We spent the afternoon and evening there, had onces (tea/snack that replaces dinner, as lunches in Chile are the main meal), and Jay got to practice his Spanish. As Carrie and Steph started to crash, we made plans to meet up the next day and Pedro gave us a ride back to our hostel.
The next day we met Steph and Carrie at the beach, had lunch with Carrie's family, bought wine for Carrie's parents as a Christmas gift, and returned to their house for onces, pisco sours, and piña coladas before going out with Loreto to dance. We made plans to spend Christmas Eve with Carrie's family the next day.
On our first full day in Viña (and our last day before Steph and Carrie arrived), we jogged along the beautiful sunny beach and went to Valpo in search of cocadas de manjar, a delectably fattening candy that we wanted to buy for Steph and Carrie. Unfortunately, our favorite candy store was out of them, so we returned to Viña, wandered along the water, and ate fajitas while discussing a new change in plans: Going to Ecuador or Mexico after Patagonia for a month or two of Spanish classes for Jay. The fajitas definitely tilted the scales for Mexico.
The next morning, we got up and went to the bus station to go to Santiago to meet Steph and Carrie. Although their flight was originally scheduled to arrive at 12:30, they were delayed due to weather and other problems with connecting flights (I'm not positive, but I'm pretty sure Carrie's crazy flight scheduling had something to do with it). They got inat 14:15 and we greeted them with cookies and cocadas (though not as good as the ones from Confiteria Rapanui). We'd spent our waiting time eating over-priced salad and then standing in the waiting area behind a woman dressed strikingly similarly to a pop (or possibly porn) star who kept walking back and forth in front of the waiting group, distracting most of the men and (I presume) putting some of the older people in danger of cardiac arrest.
We took Steph and Carrie back to Viña and went to Carrie's house, where we were greeted by her amazing family (Pedro, Silvia, Carola, Natalia and Loreto), their pets (Roberto, Lautaro (?), and a couple other dogs), and their most recent host student, Ingrid (plus boyfriend). We spent the afternoon and evening there, had onces (tea/snack that replaces dinner, as lunches in Chile are the main meal), and Jay got to practice his Spanish. As Carrie and Steph started to crash, we made plans to meet up the next day and Pedro gave us a ride back to our hostel.
The next day we met Steph and Carrie at the beach, had lunch with Carrie's family, bought wine for Carrie's parents as a Christmas gift, and returned to their house for onces, pisco sours, and piña coladas before going out with Loreto to dance. We made plans to spend Christmas Eve with Carrie's family the next day.
Alojamiento
Viña del Mar, Chile from 20 December 2008
We arrived at around 5 PM, hopped on a brand new micro, and got off at 15 Norte/6 Oriente at Lider near Carrie's house. Since we knew that Carrie and Steph would stay there, we hoped to find a hostel nearby, but closer towards the water. We wandered around ideal areas, but only found expensive hotels (one owned by Mario, the aggressively-English-speaking Italian that sang Hotel California off-key upon hearing where we live). We ended up back at the Viña del Mar bus stop that we'd passed on our way to Valpo, panicking slightly as it was already past 9 PM and starting to get dark. Luckily, an agency by the station was offering a room for CH 15,000/night, with breakfast and a private bathroom. Better, it turned out to be near the Casino - close to the beach and great restaurants, though still 20-30 minutes walking distance from Carrie's house.
We settled into our windowless room (eh, tradeoffs) and set off in search of food. We had salads and pisco sours (the Chilean ones are indeed los mejores), and headed to Bravissimo for dessert. The ice cream is not terribly good, but it IS plentiful, holds lots of memories, and sometimes comes bathed in chocolate sauce.
We arrived at around 5 PM, hopped on a brand new micro, and got off at 15 Norte/6 Oriente at Lider near Carrie's house. Since we knew that Carrie and Steph would stay there, we hoped to find a hostel nearby, but closer towards the water. We wandered around ideal areas, but only found expensive hotels (one owned by Mario, the aggressively-English-speaking Italian that sang Hotel California off-key upon hearing where we live). We ended up back at the Viña del Mar bus stop that we'd passed on our way to Valpo, panicking slightly as it was already past 9 PM and starting to get dark. Luckily, an agency by the station was offering a room for CH 15,000/night, with breakfast and a private bathroom. Better, it turned out to be near the Casino - close to the beach and great restaurants, though still 20-30 minutes walking distance from Carrie's house.
We settled into our windowless room (eh, tradeoffs) and set off in search of food. We had salads and pisco sours (the Chilean ones are indeed los mejores), and headed to Bravissimo for dessert. The ice cream is not terribly good, but it IS plentiful, holds lots of memories, and sometimes comes bathed in chocolate sauce.
Tacna and Arica (a bit more info), and the long bus to Valpo
Southern Peru and a LONG northern half of Chile from 19 December 2008
When we arrived in Tacna, we realized that we were cutting it extremely close because, due to a 2-hour time difference, the Chilean border would be closing in 30 minutes. So we hopped in a taxi with 5 other people (a guy with crutches, a young couple, a baby and a driver) and rushed for the border. Jay felt nervous and uncomfortable because it reeked of the border scams he'd read about between Peru and Ecuador - a "nearly full" taxi, a rush for the border allowing no time to think or consider your options... but since I had made the crossing twice before with Carrie by taxi, I wasn't as worried (plus, I figured we could take the baby and the guy with crutches if it came to a fight).
We scribbled out our border paperwork on the way and arrived at the border 2 minutes before they closed off access. The official passport stuff was a breeze and, once on the other side, the ride to Arica was less rushed. I spoke with the taxi driver, a Chilean, about travel, and (upon reavealing that I'm from the US) the recent elections. That part of the conversation went something like this:
"Who did you vote for?"
"Obama!"
"...But...you're white!"
Oy vey. Chile, Chile, Chile.... To his credit, he was pleasantly surprised, not appalled at my apparent betrayal of my vaguely florescent pigmentation.
Safely in Arica, we set off in search for ATMs, bus tickets and a hostel. Seeing as we started from bus station, which had 2 ATMs in it and a block full of hostels across the street, it should have been an exceptionally easy task. Unfortunately, both ATMs in the bus station were out of service, so we walked down the block to a gas station ATM (also out of service). We asked the attendant whether there was a bank (yes, a block on the other side of the bus station, but no confidence that it would be any better). We tried it, but again, no dice. What was going on?
Apparently the financial genius that stocked the ATMs only put enough money in for the first part of the day and we, arriving after midnight, were just out of luck. We managed to find a hostel that would let us pay in USD (Peruvian soles were not acceptable) and then exchange back to pesos once the ATMs were refilled. She suggested that we might also try the ATM in the mall near the bus station, so we dropped off our stuff and headed out for one last attempt at getting Chilean money. Miracle of miracles, the machine worked!... But it only took Cirrus and Mastercard and between the two of us we had three Visa cards... so we left, forked over $20 to the hostel owner, brushed our teeth with tap water (yay Chile!) and called the parentals before going to sleep.
The next morning I showered and went to the bus station while Jay, deprived by a combination of bus travel and some ingrained sense of consideration, played a much-missed guitar. I successfully got money out at the bus station (albeit in CH 5,000 bills, about $USD 8 each... I guess someone cleared out the higher denomenations earlier). I bought our tickets to Valparaíso on the next bus, which left in a couple hours. We packed, exchanged our USD payment for pesos at the hostel, and headed to the bus station.
The bus ride was looooong- about 32 hours from the far north of the country to central Valparaìso. We passed desert, the beach city of Iquique, more desert and coastland, La Serena, Ovalle, and finally Viña del Mar before arriving in Valpo.
During the trip, a little kid behind me threw a pillow that hit my leg. I turned around and asked him not to do that, as he thought it was hilarious and his father (who looked like he might have been his brother) wasn't doing anything. After a few minutes, the dad came by, picked up the pillow, and shook his finger at me, saying "You can't say anything - he didn't do anything to you and I'm the father."
I decided not to respond, but fumed over possible bitter retorts for about 30 minutes (1)"Yes, and I'm a teacher and it's my job to keep kids well behaved in a full class all day, so I actually have qualifications in the matter..." (2)"Well, with all due to your respect as a Chilean father, which I understand is a VERY hard position to attain and involves SO much responsibility..." (Chilean fathers don't really do much of the direct parenting, as a rule), or my favorite, (3) "Se supone." ....But why bother? Children here (especially boys) are often very spoiled and rarely reprimanded because their parents just don't give them boundaries, even when they bother other people in close quarters.... Kind of like Korea, except without the added confucian roots that make them at least respect their elders (even the foreign ones).
Aside from that, the bus ride was uneventful and interrupded only by the occasional, identical sugary snack (raisins, peach nectar, orange sponge cake, and candy). Ugh. Even with a sweet-tooth like mine, there are limits.
When we arrived in Tacna, we realized that we were cutting it extremely close because, due to a 2-hour time difference, the Chilean border would be closing in 30 minutes. So we hopped in a taxi with 5 other people (a guy with crutches, a young couple, a baby and a driver) and rushed for the border. Jay felt nervous and uncomfortable because it reeked of the border scams he'd read about between Peru and Ecuador - a "nearly full" taxi, a rush for the border allowing no time to think or consider your options... but since I had made the crossing twice before with Carrie by taxi, I wasn't as worried (plus, I figured we could take the baby and the guy with crutches if it came to a fight).
We scribbled out our border paperwork on the way and arrived at the border 2 minutes before they closed off access. The official passport stuff was a breeze and, once on the other side, the ride to Arica was less rushed. I spoke with the taxi driver, a Chilean, about travel, and (upon reavealing that I'm from the US) the recent elections. That part of the conversation went something like this:
"Who did you vote for?"
"Obama!"
"...But...you're white!"
Oy vey. Chile, Chile, Chile.... To his credit, he was pleasantly surprised, not appalled at my apparent betrayal of my vaguely florescent pigmentation.
Safely in Arica, we set off in search for ATMs, bus tickets and a hostel. Seeing as we started from bus station, which had 2 ATMs in it and a block full of hostels across the street, it should have been an exceptionally easy task. Unfortunately, both ATMs in the bus station were out of service, so we walked down the block to a gas station ATM (also out of service). We asked the attendant whether there was a bank (yes, a block on the other side of the bus station, but no confidence that it would be any better). We tried it, but again, no dice. What was going on?
Apparently the financial genius that stocked the ATMs only put enough money in for the first part of the day and we, arriving after midnight, were just out of luck. We managed to find a hostel that would let us pay in USD (Peruvian soles were not acceptable) and then exchange back to pesos once the ATMs were refilled. She suggested that we might also try the ATM in the mall near the bus station, so we dropped off our stuff and headed out for one last attempt at getting Chilean money. Miracle of miracles, the machine worked!... But it only took Cirrus and Mastercard and between the two of us we had three Visa cards... so we left, forked over $20 to the hostel owner, brushed our teeth with tap water (yay Chile!) and called the parentals before going to sleep.
The next morning I showered and went to the bus station while Jay, deprived by a combination of bus travel and some ingrained sense of consideration, played a much-missed guitar. I successfully got money out at the bus station (albeit in CH 5,000 bills, about $USD 8 each... I guess someone cleared out the higher denomenations earlier). I bought our tickets to Valparaíso on the next bus, which left in a couple hours. We packed, exchanged our USD payment for pesos at the hostel, and headed to the bus station.
The bus ride was looooong- about 32 hours from the far north of the country to central Valparaìso. We passed desert, the beach city of Iquique, more desert and coastland, La Serena, Ovalle, and finally Viña del Mar before arriving in Valpo.
During the trip, a little kid behind me threw a pillow that hit my leg. I turned around and asked him not to do that, as he thought it was hilarious and his father (who looked like he might have been his brother) wasn't doing anything. After a few minutes, the dad came by, picked up the pillow, and shook his finger at me, saying "You can't say anything - he didn't do anything to you and I'm the father."
I decided not to respond, but fumed over possible bitter retorts for about 30 minutes (1)"Yes, and I'm a teacher and it's my job to keep kids well behaved in a full class all day, so I actually have qualifications in the matter..." (2)"Well, with all due to your respect as a Chilean father, which I understand is a VERY hard position to attain and involves SO much responsibility..." (Chilean fathers don't really do much of the direct parenting, as a rule), or my favorite, (3) "Se supone." ....But why bother? Children here (especially boys) are often very spoiled and rarely reprimanded because their parents just don't give them boundaries, even when they bother other people in close quarters.... Kind of like Korea, except without the added confucian roots that make them at least respect their elders (even the foreign ones).
Aside from that, the bus ride was uneventful and interrupded only by the occasional, identical sugary snack (raisins, peach nectar, orange sponge cake, and candy). Ugh. Even with a sweet-tooth like mine, there are limits.
01 January 2009
Photo links
Photos are up, blog entries to follow (hopefully soon). Much love and Happy New Year!
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| Torres del Paine, Chile |
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| Viña del Mar and Valparaíso, Chile |
25 December 2008
Merry Christmas from a sunny sunny Southern Hemisphere
A quick note because we have to get ready to leave in the morning...
We had a lovely week in Valparaíso and Viña del Mar (photos and details to come, but highlights include spending the holidays with our friends Steph and Carrie and our host families). Tomorrow we leave at 6 in the morning for our flight from Santiago to Patagonia and a week of hiking in Torres del Paine.
Much love to you all and Happy Holidays!!
-JJ
We had a lovely week in Valparaíso and Viña del Mar (photos and details to come, but highlights include spending the holidays with our friends Steph and Carrie and our host families). Tomorrow we leave at 6 in the morning for our flight from Santiago to Patagonia and a week of hiking in Torres del Paine.
Much love to you all and Happy Holidays!!
-JJ
18 December 2008
A Moment in Arequipa, Peru and on to Tacna and Arica, Chile
We saw our first good film on a regular bus during the trip from Lima to Arequipa - the only other decent film was during the more expensive VIP-service bus, which was the only option from Piura to Lima and most of the other films had been B-rate movies from the 80s. With lots of crashes and bangs. None of that this time, we saw "The curse of the ring", which turned out to be a story formed from the various tales related to the German stories of Sigfried and Brunhilde (the most famous one perhaps being the Nibelungenleid). It was really good, although rather confusing to see a story that we'd studied in German being performed in English with Spanish voiceovers.
Additionally, we were surrounded by adorable children. When the bus was delayed for a few hours in the middle of the desert (there had been an accident on the road ahead that resulted in enormous lines of waiting cars for miles in each direction), did the kids cry or complain? No, they played imaginative games with each other the whole time. One was named Jade and another (ridiculously adorable) girl was named Jessica. I wanted to adopt Jessica, but I suppose her family wants to keep her... Oh well.
It turned out that the 15-hour trip turned into an 18-hour one, but even so, upon arriving in Arequipa we were ready to push on forward towards Chile. We had 2 hours between buses, leaving us plenty of time for lunch before returning to Tacna, where we were rushed to find a car leaving for the boarder before it closed at midnight. We made it (by about 3 minutes), went through customs, and spent the rest of the night in Arica on Chilean soil. The next day, on to Valparaíso!
Additionally, we were surrounded by adorable children. When the bus was delayed for a few hours in the middle of the desert (there had been an accident on the road ahead that resulted in enormous lines of waiting cars for miles in each direction), did the kids cry or complain? No, they played imaginative games with each other the whole time. One was named Jade and another (ridiculously adorable) girl was named Jessica. I wanted to adopt Jessica, but I suppose her family wants to keep her... Oh well.
It turned out that the 15-hour trip turned into an 18-hour one, but even so, upon arriving in Arequipa we were ready to push on forward towards Chile. We had 2 hours between buses, leaving us plenty of time for lunch before returning to Tacna, where we were rushed to find a car leaving for the boarder before it closed at midnight. We made it (by about 3 minutes), went through customs, and spent the rest of the night in Arica on Chilean soil. The next day, on to Valparaíso!
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| Southern Peru and Northern Chile |
31 July 2005
Adios, mi corazón: Valparaíso, Chile
The hills, the brightly colored houses, the varying shades of the ocean, the smell of rain on the coast, the family, the micros, the stray dogs, the memorized routes to friends' houses, the dances, the latin time... are only a portion of what I am leaving behind. This is a city of poets, of romance, of emotion. This is a port of lost glory, a coast of eternal beauty. I love this place like a parent, a friend, a sister. I feel numb at the thought of leaving and I cannot fully comprehend that I'm going to return to the states, to that other life that must certainly have paused for six months while I was here.
But that's not the case and Valparaíso won't pause either. These places, communities, are the forces that march heedless through time; I am but a single woman passing through. In this time, Valparaíso has changed my life more than I can articulate and more than I would be comfortable sharing. Because it has altered me so essentially, permeated my life so subtly, if I took the time to pause, to consider, to record in writing exactly how much, I'm afraid that I wouldn't know who I am. Valpo has affected me, but I have had little or no effect on Valpo. I met a tiny portion of its populace, made a few connections, lost others, and have been accepted for the time. But I'm moving on and they're staying. And who's to say how many people will remember me in a month, a year, a decade... How many will be left? How many will I remember? Will I ever forget?
For better or for worse, I have been touched by this country and I don't think that the imprint will ever fully leave. I'm worried that I will never fully recover if I leave this place, if I leave these people, but I'm perhaps more terrified that I will. That I will forget, that they will forget, that I will revert back to whoever I was before I came here. Because I don't want that. I want to carry the memories and images and faces and scars that I gained here and hold them to me, close, forever. Because I hold them close to me now. And it's important that I do so, because if I let go, all the happiness, all the frustrations, all the laughter, all the tears fade away as if they had never happened. And I can't get them back if that happens. Because the situation will be different, the people will be different. And I will be disappointed with the reality, trying in vain to maintain the memory in the present.
I love this place, and I recognize this numbness as separation. I'm separating from this place, from this family, from these memories, and in doing so separating from myself. I'm leaving a part of myself here, perhaps in the hope that when I return, if I return, that part will have preserved Valpo's memory of me, and the same people will remember and be waiting for me still. This way I have the hope of returning, of finding them again, of reuniting with this part of me... Without this hope, I don't think I would get on that plane back to the States. Back to "home"... For a part of me.
Gracias por todo lo que me has dado. Gracias por las sonrisas, por los bailes, por las lágrimas. Gracias por abrir mi corazón a sentir este lugar, a entenderlo, a quererlo. Por mi parte, yo te juro que nunca voy a olvidar. Espero que me recuerdes; espero que me extrañes. Y si sea posible en el futuro que nos reunamos, espero que me esperes. Adios, mi corazón. Que te vaya increíble, Valparaíso.
But that's not the case and Valparaíso won't pause either. These places, communities, are the forces that march heedless through time; I am but a single woman passing through. In this time, Valparaíso has changed my life more than I can articulate and more than I would be comfortable sharing. Because it has altered me so essentially, permeated my life so subtly, if I took the time to pause, to consider, to record in writing exactly how much, I'm afraid that I wouldn't know who I am. Valpo has affected me, but I have had little or no effect on Valpo. I met a tiny portion of its populace, made a few connections, lost others, and have been accepted for the time. But I'm moving on and they're staying. And who's to say how many people will remember me in a month, a year, a decade... How many will be left? How many will I remember? Will I ever forget?
For better or for worse, I have been touched by this country and I don't think that the imprint will ever fully leave. I'm worried that I will never fully recover if I leave this place, if I leave these people, but I'm perhaps more terrified that I will. That I will forget, that they will forget, that I will revert back to whoever I was before I came here. Because I don't want that. I want to carry the memories and images and faces and scars that I gained here and hold them to me, close, forever. Because I hold them close to me now. And it's important that I do so, because if I let go, all the happiness, all the frustrations, all the laughter, all the tears fade away as if they had never happened. And I can't get them back if that happens. Because the situation will be different, the people will be different. And I will be disappointed with the reality, trying in vain to maintain the memory in the present.
I love this place, and I recognize this numbness as separation. I'm separating from this place, from this family, from these memories, and in doing so separating from myself. I'm leaving a part of myself here, perhaps in the hope that when I return, if I return, that part will have preserved Valpo's memory of me, and the same people will remember and be waiting for me still. This way I have the hope of returning, of finding them again, of reuniting with this part of me... Without this hope, I don't think I would get on that plane back to the States. Back to "home"... For a part of me.
Gracias por todo lo que me has dado. Gracias por las sonrisas, por los bailes, por las lágrimas. Gracias por abrir mi corazón a sentir este lugar, a entenderlo, a quererlo. Por mi parte, yo te juro que nunca voy a olvidar. Espero que me recuerdes; espero que me extrañes. Y si sea posible en el futuro que nos reunamos, espero que me esperes. Adios, mi corazón. Que te vaya increíble, Valparaíso.
17 July 2005
Celebración de la Virgen del Carmen
La Tirana, Chile
We left our hotels late at night to catch the short bus ride from Iquique to La Tirana. Carrie was very excited to go because we were going to see a catholic celebration. I would have been happy to spend more time in Iquique (or sleeping), but she insisted, so we went.
After we arrived in the parking lot of La Tirana's festival, we made our way through a huge mass of stalls selling rosaries, crucifixes, Jesus candles and various other items. Capitalism meets Catholiciscm and the result was rather terrifying, so we made our way to the main celebration.
It was certainly large and easy to find - there were huge crowds and many different performances. Various groups of dancers with costumes ranging from traditional Chilean dresses to shiny circus attire to native American outfits. We were particularly confused by a small group of dancers whose costumes were based of off native American clothing local to North America, which seemed out of place in South America and especially at a Christian festival, but the dances were interesting. The dancing was occasionally interrupted by (or simply interspersed with) lengthy 'hail mary' chants (or the Spanish equivalent) and sporadic fireworks. On the whole, it was basically Carnival with some extra Catholicism.
And it was cold. We eventually huddled with most of the crowds into the few buildings nearby, where young groups of children in identical outfits (boyscouts from different regions, perhaps?) paraded through with large banners. After watching a few more of these, we headed back to Iquique for the night. It was an interesting experience, but not one that I would suggest to anyone other than the very devout or rather bored. Next up: Bolivia!
After we arrived in the parking lot of La Tirana's festival, we made our way through a huge mass of stalls selling rosaries, crucifixes, Jesus candles and various other items. Capitalism meets Catholiciscm and the result was rather terrifying, so we made our way to the main celebration.
It was certainly large and easy to find - there were huge crowds and many different performances. Various groups of dancers with costumes ranging from traditional Chilean dresses to shiny circus attire to native American outfits. We were particularly confused by a small group of dancers whose costumes were based of off native American clothing local to North America, which seemed out of place in South America and especially at a Christian festival, but the dances were interesting. The dancing was occasionally interrupted by (or simply interspersed with) lengthy 'hail mary' chants (or the Spanish equivalent) and sporadic fireworks. On the whole, it was basically Carnival with some extra Catholicism.
And it was cold. We eventually huddled with most of the crowds into the few buildings nearby, where young groups of children in identical outfits (boyscouts from different regions, perhaps?) paraded through with large banners. After watching a few more of these, we headed back to Iquique for the night. It was an interesting experience, but not one that I would suggest to anyone other than the very devout or rather bored. Next up: Bolivia!
16 July 2005
"I was just guardaring it": Iquique, Chile
Our next destination after San Pedro was Iquique, a costal town in northern Chile. Our purpose was to see the Celebración de la Virgen del Carmen, a yearly festival in nearby La Tirana that Carrie was hell-bent on visiting. So it is that we arrived in Iquique at around 5:30 in the morning with no clue as to where to find a hostel. Unlike San Pedro, Iquique is a huge city, and rather intimidating at the sketchy bus station at this hour in the morning. We were prepared to wait until the sun came out before venturing out in search of accommodations, but a sweet woman who'd been on the bus with us offered to give us a ride when her brother came to pick her up. As her brother was a local, he knew of some hostels that would be available at the time.
This turned out to be a rather lucky break as, due to the festival, there were almost no vacancies in the city and we would have probably wandered for hours before finding an available room. We thanked him and his sister profusely as they dropped us off at an available hostel and made our way inside. The woman who was working at the time told us the prices and, after we payed for the duration of our stay, showed us to a room, where we unpacked and then lay down to take a nap until daytime. At around 9:30 in the morning, however, we had a knock on the door - the maid was not aware that we had just arrived and was told to knock on the doors of people who were expected to leave that day so that they would not miss the 10 am check-out time. Nice. After we cleared up this misunderstanding, she asked us to switch rooms, as there was a new double available, and we'd been using a triple because it was the only vacant room at the time. So, we moved our stuff to the next room, napped for a bit more, and then left to explore the city. On our way out, the woman at the door (different from the night before) asked us about payment. We told her we had already paid and asked if she needed to see the receipt. No no, she replied, that was fine. And so we left.
We spent an hour or so at a nearby internet cafe - Carrie talking with Hugo over MSN, and me checking email and uploading photos. Afterwards, we had a delicious meal at a tiny restaurant near the ocean, run by a very sweet woman and her daughter, who told us a bit about the festival in La Tirana. According to them, the best time to be there was the night the 16th (that evening) at midnight, as that was when all the fireworks went off. We'd previously intended to go the next day, so this changed our plans a bit, but it was very helpful to talk with them. They also warned us against thieves at the festival and in Iquique during the week of the festival. They suggested that we carefully guard our money and cameras on our persons at all times and that we always say that we are from Valparaíso (and not neighboring Viña del Mar, where Carrie lived, because it was considered to be a rich community). After our delicious lunch, we went to the coast to sit and write for a while until it chilled and got a bit windy, at which point we moved our writing to a cafe a couple of blocks away.
As we sat talking and drinking tea, two guys from a nearby table moved and asked if they could sit with us. We agreed, and they asked us where we were from. With the advice of the restaurant owner in mind, we replied that we were students in Valparaíso, and received a rather unexpected answer from them: "No, WE'RE from Valparaíso, where are you from?" We laughed at being so automatically caught (as if a blonde and a very pale brunette could pass as latinas...) and acquiesced that we were just studying abroad, but were from the U.S.. These two Chileans, though originally from Valparaíso, were doing a year-long project in Iquique as part of their Engineering program in Valpo. We talked for a while about Valparaíso and travel in general, and then went our separate ways. (The two invited us to go dancing that night but, seeing as we had only hiking boots on our feet and intentions to be in La Tirana that night, we declined).
Upon returning to the hostel, we were once accosted, by a third woman, regarding payment. Rather annoyed, we responded that we'd already paid and then had to argue with her for a while, as she insisted that we were short one night, referring to the morning we arrived. We explained that we'd arrived early that same morning, not the night before and after a bit more arguing, she left us alone.
Rather untrusting of the hostel at this point, we locked our bags under our beds before leaving for La Tirana, bundled up with our cameras and keys inside the waistbands of our pants (not an attractive look for women, as it turns out). And we were off to La Tirana (see that entry for more detail).
When we returned, we were again harassed about money before allowed to go back to our room. Then next morning, we were awoken again at 9:30, though we weren't scheduled to leave until the next morning. Carrie went back to sleep, but I stayed up to write. As we had no electrical outlets in our room, I went to a chair in the hallway to write and plugged my camera battery charger into an outlet a few feet above my head as I sat and wrote postcards. A few hours later, when I got up to leave, my camera battery was gone. Confused and flustered, I looked around for a while before returning to our room. Carrie was still in bed, so I fished around in my bag for a map of Iquique, intent on going to the tech-mall nearby to buy a new camera battery. Carrie heard me rustling around and asked what had happened. I explained the scenario and she asked if I had left it at all. I replied that I had not, and that no guests had passed that morning (though the maid had walked by). Carrie went into bad-cop mode (normally my job, but I was rather shaken by having lost an item from 2 feet above my head), got dressed, and marched downstairs to talk to the woman in charge.
A few minutes later, she came back with my camera battery. Apparently the woman had taken it to "guardar" (hold on to/protect) it, as she claimed no one had been near the battery. Now, I don't know how she managed to take it without my noticing, or how she possibly managed to not see me, but at least I got my camera battery back (not worth much at all, but as it was my only one, rather important to my ability to take photos).
After this little adventure, we spent the day relaxing, walking around the town, visiting the market, and using the internet cafe. Naturally, upon returning, we had to deal with another woman regarding money (this is the 5th supervisor we've had an argument with, at this point). This time I took the angry position of explaining, slowly and firmly, the (very simple) mathematics involved in the situation and showing the receipt of payment that matched that math perfectly. Annoyed, this woman let us go, and we left the next morning without allowing for more argument. Onward to Peru.
This turned out to be a rather lucky break as, due to the festival, there were almost no vacancies in the city and we would have probably wandered for hours before finding an available room. We thanked him and his sister profusely as they dropped us off at an available hostel and made our way inside. The woman who was working at the time told us the prices and, after we payed for the duration of our stay, showed us to a room, where we unpacked and then lay down to take a nap until daytime. At around 9:30 in the morning, however, we had a knock on the door - the maid was not aware that we had just arrived and was told to knock on the doors of people who were expected to leave that day so that they would not miss the 10 am check-out time. Nice. After we cleared up this misunderstanding, she asked us to switch rooms, as there was a new double available, and we'd been using a triple because it was the only vacant room at the time. So, we moved our stuff to the next room, napped for a bit more, and then left to explore the city. On our way out, the woman at the door (different from the night before) asked us about payment. We told her we had already paid and asked if she needed to see the receipt. No no, she replied, that was fine. And so we left.
We spent an hour or so at a nearby internet cafe - Carrie talking with Hugo over MSN, and me checking email and uploading photos. Afterwards, we had a delicious meal at a tiny restaurant near the ocean, run by a very sweet woman and her daughter, who told us a bit about the festival in La Tirana. According to them, the best time to be there was the night the 16th (that evening) at midnight, as that was when all the fireworks went off. We'd previously intended to go the next day, so this changed our plans a bit, but it was very helpful to talk with them. They also warned us against thieves at the festival and in Iquique during the week of the festival. They suggested that we carefully guard our money and cameras on our persons at all times and that we always say that we are from Valparaíso (and not neighboring Viña del Mar, where Carrie lived, because it was considered to be a rich community). After our delicious lunch, we went to the coast to sit and write for a while until it chilled and got a bit windy, at which point we moved our writing to a cafe a couple of blocks away.
As we sat talking and drinking tea, two guys from a nearby table moved and asked if they could sit with us. We agreed, and they asked us where we were from. With the advice of the restaurant owner in mind, we replied that we were students in Valparaíso, and received a rather unexpected answer from them: "No, WE'RE from Valparaíso, where are you from?" We laughed at being so automatically caught (as if a blonde and a very pale brunette could pass as latinas...) and acquiesced that we were just studying abroad, but were from the U.S.. These two Chileans, though originally from Valparaíso, were doing a year-long project in Iquique as part of their Engineering program in Valpo. We talked for a while about Valparaíso and travel in general, and then went our separate ways. (The two invited us to go dancing that night but, seeing as we had only hiking boots on our feet and intentions to be in La Tirana that night, we declined).
Upon returning to the hostel, we were once accosted, by a third woman, regarding payment. Rather annoyed, we responded that we'd already paid and then had to argue with her for a while, as she insisted that we were short one night, referring to the morning we arrived. We explained that we'd arrived early that same morning, not the night before and after a bit more arguing, she left us alone.
Rather untrusting of the hostel at this point, we locked our bags under our beds before leaving for La Tirana, bundled up with our cameras and keys inside the waistbands of our pants (not an attractive look for women, as it turns out). And we were off to La Tirana (see that entry for more detail).
When we returned, we were again harassed about money before allowed to go back to our room. Then next morning, we were awoken again at 9:30, though we weren't scheduled to leave until the next morning. Carrie went back to sleep, but I stayed up to write. As we had no electrical outlets in our room, I went to a chair in the hallway to write and plugged my camera battery charger into an outlet a few feet above my head as I sat and wrote postcards. A few hours later, when I got up to leave, my camera battery was gone. Confused and flustered, I looked around for a while before returning to our room. Carrie was still in bed, so I fished around in my bag for a map of Iquique, intent on going to the tech-mall nearby to buy a new camera battery. Carrie heard me rustling around and asked what had happened. I explained the scenario and she asked if I had left it at all. I replied that I had not, and that no guests had passed that morning (though the maid had walked by). Carrie went into bad-cop mode (normally my job, but I was rather shaken by having lost an item from 2 feet above my head), got dressed, and marched downstairs to talk to the woman in charge.
A few minutes later, she came back with my camera battery. Apparently the woman had taken it to "guardar" (hold on to/protect) it, as she claimed no one had been near the battery. Now, I don't know how she managed to take it without my noticing, or how she possibly managed to not see me, but at least I got my camera battery back (not worth much at all, but as it was my only one, rather important to my ability to take photos).
After this little adventure, we spent the day relaxing, walking around the town, visiting the market, and using the internet cafe. Naturally, upon returning, we had to deal with another woman regarding money (this is the 5th supervisor we've had an argument with, at this point). This time I took the angry position of explaining, slowly and firmly, the (very simple) mathematics involved in the situation and showing the receipt of payment that matched that math perfectly. Annoyed, this woman let us go, and we left the next morning without allowing for more argument. Onward to Peru.
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