Our first stop on the JessieAndCarrieTravellingExperience (henceforth referred to as "JACTE"), was San Pedro de Atacama. That is, the village of San Pedro, located in the Atacama Desert. For those of you for whom this name does not ring a bell, for shame! The Atacama Desert is the driest desert in the world, and comprises approximately the upper third of Chile. San Pedro is one of the many Oases of the desert, and I will describe more about San Pedro itself in another entry. For now, all you need know is that it was the home base of our adventures for the first few days. The hostel we stayed at offered a really cheap tour package, that went to all the places we had been planning to visit (read: lusting after in our little American guide books). The Salar de Atacama, Valle de la Luna, Valle de la Muerte, and El Tatio Geysers. It also included trips to the lagunas, various Oases, Las Tres Marias, and Mirador, all in two days total, so of course we were very excited.
DAY ONE - Our first day started with a trip to the Gran Salar (great salt lake) de Atacama. My memory isn't perfect, so correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe that this is the third largest salt lake in the world, after the ones in Salt Lake City, Utah and one in southern Bolivia. The main lure to this salar seems to be that you can see flamingos. Personally, I wasn't too excited about the flamingos, and therefore not particularly upset that they were distant and hard to see. The texture of the ground was amazing though - salt lakes are formed by salt water lakes that dry up and just leave the salt formations, which look...well, like huge salt crystals all over the ground. There were some areas where there was still water - in the form of small and large lakes, as well as rivers. Some of the rivers were amazing colors - reds and oranges and browns and greens... It was beautiful! We could also see the mountains in the distance.
After the Salar, we drove to the Lagunas ("lakes") Miscanti and Miñiques, named after the volcanoes they neighbor. The lakes were deep, clear blue, bordered by the tan sands and the grey-blue volcanoes, with strips of snow... As usual, my abilities with a camera do not fully capture the beauty of the region - the contrast, the textures... Sometimes on our trip I worried about becoming numb to beauty if we stayed there too long, if we were able to become accustomed to our surroundings. We walked along a road for a while and often saw piles of rocks on the side of the road. At one point, Carrie turned to me and asked me which animal I thought had made it... um, backpackers? I'm surprised she's never seen them before, but it was entertaining.
We went to lunch in Socaire, a small oasis between the Salar and the Lagunas. The food was delicious and the people in our tour group were interesting and friendly, for the most part. A french couple was rather incommunicative, but there were some Spanish-speakers and a couple of (Dutch, we think) women who spoke English. The meal was a huge, delicious plate of chicken and salad with a delicious grain (the name of which I have forgotten) unique to the region, soup, and homemade bread with pebre (sort of salsa, for spreading on bread). Way too much food for me, but Carrie, who eats about twice her bodyweight at every meal, was well-fed for the first (and pretty much last) time on our trip.
On our way back to the hostel, we stopped at Toconao, another oasis. Way more vegetated than Socaire or San Pedro, Toconao has a huge plant-reservation that we got to walk through - full of gorgeous and lush plants, in the middle of the desert! There was also a plaza with a cool statue and a bell tower. and there were a couple kids playing on and around the statue that were just so cute! Toconao was the last stop on our first day. We came home and went to sleep early in preparation for an early start the next day.
DAY TWO - And by an early start, I mean ridiculously so. We left at 4 AM, at which point it was (below) freezing cold. As per our friend Kevin's suggestion, we tried to bring our blankets from the hostel beds, but one of the hostel workers caught us and made us put them back. The tour guide, who also works for the hostel, thought that was stupid and that we should have been able to keep the blankets. We were annoyed, tired, and cranky about it, but had no idea what we were in for. The El Tatio Geysers, at high elevation in the driest desert in the world, have a temperature of approximately 14 degrees below zero. Celsius. Personally, I was wearing two pairs of tights, one pair of leggings, jeans, three thermal shirts, a jacket, a vest, my huge wool coat from Chiloe, three pairs of socks, hiking boots, gloves, a scarf, and two hats. I couldn't feel my feet, face or hands. Carrie was less prepared and couldn't stand the temperature. Rather than waiting for the sunrise outside, she retreated to the tour van to hide by the heater in the front seat. The view was worth the discomfort. The Geysers released a steady stream of steam and a small pattern of mini-rivers across the ground, which froze in the air before our eyes. As the sun rose, the colors on the mountains changed, and we could see the sunlight creeping across the ground. After a small breakfast provided by our tour group, we moved to a different part of the geysers, where the springs of hot water had created a natural hot tub. We got to go swimming (well, sitting), which was a wonderful way to warm up. Also, there was a large group of French students (I'd say around 17 or 18 years old) that were extremely loud and obnoxious. It was frustrating, but it was nice that it was a group of French students for a change. We didn't have to be embarrassed by the poorly behaved tourists from America this time! Sometimes, it's the little things...
On our way back to San Pedro, we stopped by a tiny oasis (the name of which I've forgotten) with a permanent population of about thirty people. We wandered a bit, and got tea for Carrie, who wasn't feeling well. Possibly from the cold, possibly altitude sickness, possibly because of not eating enough (this last one was her opinion - I think we were eating more than enough for two five-foot tall women). In the oasis, there were small figures outside some houses, made from rocks, which were interesting. We then went back to San Pedro for a few hours before our evening trip to the valleys.
Our first stop in the evening was Mirador, an elevated location from which we could see down into the valleys of the desert. Once again, I was amazed by the expanse of the desert. It is at once beautiful and terrifying - beautiful for the colors and textures and novelty of desert, terrifying for the reality of its deadliness. Can you imagine being stranded here? It's just sand. Dry, lifeless sand for miles in every direction. Sand that burns in the daytime and has temperatures of well below freezing at night. No water, no vegetation, no life. It's extremely intimidating in this light, and makes the oases seem that much more lively and vital in comparison.
After Mirador, we went to Valle de la Muerte (Valley of Death), so named because a frenchman's pronunciation of Marte (Mars) was so strongly accented that it sounded like Muerte (death). There was no tragic event involved in the naming of the valley. It was meant to be named for the red hues and other-worldly sand- and rock-formations. We walked across a section of this valley before getting picked up by our tour bus again to move on.
Our next destination, Las Tres Marias (the three Marys) is a group of rock formations said to look like three versions of the virgin mary. To each his own, I suppose. I can see one human-like figure in the center, but I think the other two are quite a stretch. To be fair, the people who named these rocks were probably dehydrated and delirious from the altitude at the time, so allowances must be made for such names. Personally, I was more intrigued by the rock formation that looks like the head of a turtle from one angle and a fist from a different angle.
Our final stop was Valle de la Luna (Valley of the Moon), which was simply breathtaking. Literally. We climbed a large sand dune in order to get to a higher point to see the light change colors on the Andes as the sun set. Combined with the high altitude and dry air, this seemingly-simple hike left us gasping for breath and pausing to gulp down water. In the middle of one of many such pauses, an older woman walking in flip flops and a skirt, lit cigarette in one hand, walked calmly past. That was embarrassing. We did indeed make it to our destination before the sun set, and the view was beautiful. We could see down into all the mini-valleys, and also see the andes. As I mentioned previously, the draw of sunset at Valle de la Luna is not the sunset itself, but rather the color play it creates across the Andes. The sun was pretty much gone by the time we returned to our bus, but the view that evening was absolutely beautiful.
02 July 2005
Reserva Nacional los Cipruses: Cajón del Maipo, Chile
Steph and I decided to go to Reserva Nacional los Cipruses (a small park in Cajón del Maipo) as one of her last excursions in Chile. We started the day with a phone call - her to me - because I had gone dancing the night before and overslept my alarm. She apparently had waited over an hour, allowing ample time for Chilean-time adjustments to our pre-arranged meeting time, and then gone home and called me. I arrived spouting apologies and offers of cookies to make my way back into her good graces, but none were necessary, as she wasn't in fact angry.
At about 10 am, we therefore made our way to the bus station to catch a bus to Santiago. Upon arriving in Santiago, we took the metro to a station that my guidebook indicated. The book said to leave the metro station and catch a micro (minibus) at Paradero 15 (bus stop 15). We assumed that it would be a regular street-side bus stop, and even ventured a guess that it would be between paraderos 14 and 16. Silly gringas... after wandering around the station for a while (and successfully ignoring the tempting-looking fudge stand all three times we backtracked past it), we asked for directions from a man directing taxis. He waved us in the direction of the nearby, large building full of stores and said to go downstairs.
So, after passing the fudge stand once more and going down the stairs inside the building, we found ourselves back at the metro station. We wandered to a parking garage and asked a lady selling costumes there where we could find Paradero 15. "¿Adónde van?", she asked us. When we told her our intended destination (Cajón del Maipo), she told us where to go and warned that we would get wet in the rain. Well, that "rain" was little more then a light drizzle and we did have raincoats and rainpants. As for the elusive Paradero 15 - that was the entire building.
After finding the correct micro on the second try (having been once again led astray by our guidebook), we were on our way to the reserve. Truth be told, we were just ready to guess at the correct stop (surely a national reserve has at least a small sign?) but as the micro got further from Santiago, we saw no indications of the reserve. We did, however, pass a large and touristy vineyard, at which point the chofer, who up to this point had not been announcing stops, yells out, "La viña! We're passing the viña! Anyone who wants to visit the viña should get off!" Neither Steph nor I made any move to get off the bus, so a female passenger tapped me on the shoulder and asked if we were looking for the vineyard. How successfully we two white women have blended into the fabric of Chilean society in comfortable anonymity.
As the drizzle turned to a light rain and back again and all the other passengers gradually left the bus, we still saw no sign of our reserve. We therefore made our way to the front of the now-empty bus to check with the driver.
I spoke up, "excuse me, we're looking for-"
"I announced it," he interrupted, "I called out many times when we passed the-"
"We don't want to go to the vineyard," I interjected. We told him that we were, in fact, heading for the national reserve.
"Oh, we're almost there right now," he replied. Then, looking us over, "you're going to get wet."
When we arrived at the reserve, we went into the hut at the entrance to purchase our entrance tickets. The ranger on duty reluctantly got up from where he was resting on the sofa to come talk to us. Rather, to come stare at us, as he seemed not at all inclined to begin any conversation. After looking at each other for a few seconds, Steph and I informed the ranger that we wanted to visit the reserve.
"Because of the weather conditions," he responded after a pause, "we don't recommend entering the reserve."
Another awkward pause, and then Steph replied, "Um... could we go anyway?"
Two blinks. "We really don't recommend entering the reserve."
"Yes, but can we go anyway?"
Yet another pause, then the ranger walked over to the desk and pulled out a map of the reserve, "The trails are not safe to walk on, you will have to stay on the main road only." We agreed and paid the entrance fee, and he gave us our tickets. Just before we left, he told us, "Go out the door, turn left, and stay on the road. Don't leave the main road." We nodded, relieved to not have to resort to a pitiful "can we go anyway?" for a third time. "You're going to get wet," he added as we walked out the door.
Upon exiting the hut, we saw two roads leading into the reserve: one that went straight, and one that went to the right. We contemplated how much of the little faith the ranger had in us would be lost if we returned and asked if by "left" he meant right or straight. We didn't have to ask, as he noticed our hesitation when he came to close the door. Exasperated, he repeated slowly, pointing to the path straight ahead, "Go Left And Don't Leave The Main Road". Then he closed the door to return to the sofa, so we missed the muttered "stupid gringas," if he bothered to say it aloud at all.
We walked in the reserve for a few hours, straying only once from the main road (for the specific purpose of taking a picture of Stephanie on the "dangerous" trail - a slightly damp grassy dirt path about 4 feet wide - indeed she was almost washed away by the torrents of... drizzle. The plants were lovely, but not the views were not spectacular, as we couldn't safely leave the main road, and after a few hours we turned back around to return to Santiago for sushi. Before being allowed into any restaurant, however, we had to dry off - we were indeed soaked.
At about 10 am, we therefore made our way to the bus station to catch a bus to Santiago. Upon arriving in Santiago, we took the metro to a station that my guidebook indicated. The book said to leave the metro station and catch a micro (minibus) at Paradero 15 (bus stop 15). We assumed that it would be a regular street-side bus stop, and even ventured a guess that it would be between paraderos 14 and 16. Silly gringas... after wandering around the station for a while (and successfully ignoring the tempting-looking fudge stand all three times we backtracked past it), we asked for directions from a man directing taxis. He waved us in the direction of the nearby, large building full of stores and said to go downstairs.
So, after passing the fudge stand once more and going down the stairs inside the building, we found ourselves back at the metro station. We wandered to a parking garage and asked a lady selling costumes there where we could find Paradero 15. "¿Adónde van?", she asked us. When we told her our intended destination (Cajón del Maipo), she told us where to go and warned that we would get wet in the rain. Well, that "rain" was little more then a light drizzle and we did have raincoats and rainpants. As for the elusive Paradero 15 - that was the entire building.
After finding the correct micro on the second try (having been once again led astray by our guidebook), we were on our way to the reserve. Truth be told, we were just ready to guess at the correct stop (surely a national reserve has at least a small sign?) but as the micro got further from Santiago, we saw no indications of the reserve. We did, however, pass a large and touristy vineyard, at which point the chofer, who up to this point had not been announcing stops, yells out, "La viña! We're passing the viña! Anyone who wants to visit the viña should get off!" Neither Steph nor I made any move to get off the bus, so a female passenger tapped me on the shoulder and asked if we were looking for the vineyard. How successfully we two white women have blended into the fabric of Chilean society in comfortable anonymity.
As the drizzle turned to a light rain and back again and all the other passengers gradually left the bus, we still saw no sign of our reserve. We therefore made our way to the front of the now-empty bus to check with the driver.
I spoke up, "excuse me, we're looking for-"
"I announced it," he interrupted, "I called out many times when we passed the-"
"We don't want to go to the vineyard," I interjected. We told him that we were, in fact, heading for the national reserve.
"Oh, we're almost there right now," he replied. Then, looking us over, "you're going to get wet."
When we arrived at the reserve, we went into the hut at the entrance to purchase our entrance tickets. The ranger on duty reluctantly got up from where he was resting on the sofa to come talk to us. Rather, to come stare at us, as he seemed not at all inclined to begin any conversation. After looking at each other for a few seconds, Steph and I informed the ranger that we wanted to visit the reserve.
"Because of the weather conditions," he responded after a pause, "we don't recommend entering the reserve."
Another awkward pause, and then Steph replied, "Um... could we go anyway?"
Two blinks. "We really don't recommend entering the reserve."
"Yes, but can we go anyway?"
Yet another pause, then the ranger walked over to the desk and pulled out a map of the reserve, "The trails are not safe to walk on, you will have to stay on the main road only." We agreed and paid the entrance fee, and he gave us our tickets. Just before we left, he told us, "Go out the door, turn left, and stay on the road. Don't leave the main road." We nodded, relieved to not have to resort to a pitiful "can we go anyway?" for a third time. "You're going to get wet," he added as we walked out the door.
Upon exiting the hut, we saw two roads leading into the reserve: one that went straight, and one that went to the right. We contemplated how much of the little faith the ranger had in us would be lost if we returned and asked if by "left" he meant right or straight. We didn't have to ask, as he noticed our hesitation when he came to close the door. Exasperated, he repeated slowly, pointing to the path straight ahead, "Go Left And Don't Leave The Main Road". Then he closed the door to return to the sofa, so we missed the muttered "stupid gringas," if he bothered to say it aloud at all.
We walked in the reserve for a few hours, straying only once from the main road (for the specific purpose of taking a picture of Stephanie on the "dangerous" trail - a slightly damp grassy dirt path about 4 feet wide - indeed she was almost washed away by the torrents of... drizzle. The plants were lovely, but not the views were not spectacular, as we couldn't safely leave the main road, and after a few hours we turned back around to return to Santiago for sushi. Before being allowed into any restaurant, however, we had to dry off - we were indeed soaked.
28 June 2005
End of the Semester: Valparaíso, Chile
This semester ended rather anticlimactically - the finals process in Chile works in such a way that if you have the equivalent of a B or so in the course, you don't take a final. I therefore was exempt from all finals, except for Korean, which didn't follow this general rule.
Now, leading up to finals (for the last 2 months or so, actually), there were many paros, or strikes, at the university, resulting in one or more classes being cancelled every week, often for the entire week. Not only did this allow us only a portion of the planned course materials in Korean, which was affected the most by being a language class and only meeting once a week, but there was a police response. If the students marching and rioting weren't disconcerting enough, the police presence would seem to do the trick. Apparently, however, tear gas had to be added to the equation.
I was in the casa central of the university, along with many other students, when classes were stopped for a paro. On our way home in the micro bus, all the passengers started covering their noses with scarves as the policemen used tear gas on the rioting students. Now, I'm glad I wasn't one of those students, because even from the bus the tear gas was strong. Strong enough, in fact, that my vocal chords (or similar) were inflamed, and I lost my voice for a week or so. This was rather obnoxious, but became rather comical when I had to stage-whisper my answers to the Korean oral final across the room. Ah well. It's an experience, no?
With practically no real finals, I was free to spend most of my time planning for the 2-week trip that Carrie and I wanted to take through northern Chile, Bolivia, and Peru. So endeth my semester in Chile.
Now, leading up to finals (for the last 2 months or so, actually), there were many paros, or strikes, at the university, resulting in one or more classes being cancelled every week, often for the entire week. Not only did this allow us only a portion of the planned course materials in Korean, which was affected the most by being a language class and only meeting once a week, but there was a police response. If the students marching and rioting weren't disconcerting enough, the police presence would seem to do the trick. Apparently, however, tear gas had to be added to the equation.
I was in the casa central of the university, along with many other students, when classes were stopped for a paro. On our way home in the micro bus, all the passengers started covering their noses with scarves as the policemen used tear gas on the rioting students. Now, I'm glad I wasn't one of those students, because even from the bus the tear gas was strong. Strong enough, in fact, that my vocal chords (or similar) were inflamed, and I lost my voice for a week or so. This was rather obnoxious, but became rather comical when I had to stage-whisper my answers to the Korean oral final across the room. Ah well. It's an experience, no?
With practically no real finals, I was free to spend most of my time planning for the 2-week trip that Carrie and I wanted to take through northern Chile, Bolivia, and Peru. So endeth my semester in Chile.
10 May 2005
Suggestions: Valparaíso, Chile
Suggestions for people planning to come study or visit here:
(1) Do. By all means, if you have a chance to come to Chile, do so without hesitation (except for the time it takes you to buy a ticket, learn Spanish, and convince yourself that the Spanish you learned will be useless). That brings us to...
(2) For those of you at LC, read the book about chilean modismos that they give you in orientation. Perhaps in lieu of Spanish classes; the people here simply do not speak Spanish. They speak Chilean. Well, in the (paraphrased) words of a Chilean, "Todos los Chilenos hablamos tres idiomas: el Castellano, el Chileno, y puro huevon (accent on the o)" loosely translated (pardon the language): "all Chileans speak three languages: Castillian (Spanish), Chilean, and pure bullshit." To try to explain what you are going to be dealing with, I will give you some examples. They drop the "s" at the end of words. They leave out the "d" in past participles, they insert "po" (pues) at the end of every other sentence, speak more slang than proper spanish, and do not recognize some of the words that you were taught to use. Aguacate? Fresa? Novio? no no, palta, frutilla, and pololo, respectively. The most commonly word, scattered throughout any conversation, would be "¿cachai?" (accent on the i). This means "do you understand?" in second person singular. but chileans often use the vosotros form of a verb and just drop the s. Example: Como estai (accent on the i) instead of como estas (accent on the a)... Okay, since it is doubtful that anyone is still reading this, moving on...
(3) Bring an ISIC card and use it on the micros, because you won't get your matriculation card for a long time and otherwise you would have to pay twice as much for bus fare. The ISIC card will also work as an ID to get into clubs, bars, etc.
(4) Bring a stash of your favorite candy or, if you are so inclined, peanut butter. It's expensive here.
(5) Get classes with mainly chileans, and try to get classes that are required of first year students, since they are friendlier and less cliquish than older chilean students
(6) Go out. Preferably with Chileans. People here go out from around 10 pm to 6 am Thursday through Saturday night. Suggestions: La Torre (near the Casa Central), and Ache Havana (on Errazuriz).
(7) Travel. Both within Valparaiso/Viña del Mar and around Chile. Suggestions: Cerro La Campana, Chiloe (Castro, Dalcauhue and Cucau), Pucon (although you will go with CIEE if you study here for the semester), Machu Pichu and the ruins near Cusco(Peru), Lake Titicaca (Peru or Bolivia), Isla del Sol (Bolivia), and San Pedro de Atacama (in the north of Chile). Trips that other people have suggested: Buenos Aires, Mendoza (Argentina), Easter Island, the Amazon Rainforest, and Patagonia (in the south - easiest to go during the summer). Within Valparaiso, you should take the O micro, which drives through all the hills in Valpo, so you can see the city. Also, Playa Ancha, the southernmost cerro, is gorgeous. Cerro Alegre and Cerro Concepcion have a lot of cafes and are popular among tourists and students, and the flat area near the port is where a lot of the nightlife in Valpo is. The Botanical Garden (technically in Viña, I believe), is also lovely, and the beach in Viña is popular (check out the huge sand statues of animals - they change every few days).
(8) Use an ATM card instead of traveller's checks - the checks are a pain to cash and, as long as you take out money in large, infrequent blocks, you will not lose much through the fixed fee that your bank incurs.
(9) Explore the markets and ambulant vendors in northern Viña and downtown Valparaiso near Pedro Montt.
(10) Wander. Drag along a Chilean or another traveller, pick a street or a hill, and start walking. Don't get too lost, of course, and try to avoid the upper parts of the cerros, which are rather dangerous.
(1) Do. By all means, if you have a chance to come to Chile, do so without hesitation (except for the time it takes you to buy a ticket, learn Spanish, and convince yourself that the Spanish you learned will be useless). That brings us to...
(2) For those of you at LC, read the book about chilean modismos that they give you in orientation. Perhaps in lieu of Spanish classes; the people here simply do not speak Spanish. They speak Chilean. Well, in the (paraphrased) words of a Chilean, "Todos los Chilenos hablamos tres idiomas: el Castellano, el Chileno, y puro huevon (accent on the o)" loosely translated (pardon the language): "all Chileans speak three languages: Castillian (Spanish), Chilean, and pure bullshit." To try to explain what you are going to be dealing with, I will give you some examples. They drop the "s" at the end of words. They leave out the "d" in past participles, they insert "po" (pues) at the end of every other sentence, speak more slang than proper spanish, and do not recognize some of the words that you were taught to use. Aguacate? Fresa? Novio? no no, palta, frutilla, and pololo, respectively. The most commonly word, scattered throughout any conversation, would be "¿cachai?" (accent on the i). This means "do you understand?" in second person singular. but chileans often use the vosotros form of a verb and just drop the s. Example: Como estai (accent on the i) instead of como estas (accent on the a)... Okay, since it is doubtful that anyone is still reading this, moving on...
(3) Bring an ISIC card and use it on the micros, because you won't get your matriculation card for a long time and otherwise you would have to pay twice as much for bus fare. The ISIC card will also work as an ID to get into clubs, bars, etc.
(4) Bring a stash of your favorite candy or, if you are so inclined, peanut butter. It's expensive here.
(5) Get classes with mainly chileans, and try to get classes that are required of first year students, since they are friendlier and less cliquish than older chilean students
(6) Go out. Preferably with Chileans. People here go out from around 10 pm to 6 am Thursday through Saturday night. Suggestions: La Torre (near the Casa Central), and Ache Havana (on Errazuriz).
(7) Travel. Both within Valparaiso/Viña del Mar and around Chile. Suggestions: Cerro La Campana, Chiloe (Castro, Dalcauhue and Cucau), Pucon (although you will go with CIEE if you study here for the semester), Machu Pichu and the ruins near Cusco(Peru), Lake Titicaca (Peru or Bolivia), Isla del Sol (Bolivia), and San Pedro de Atacama (in the north of Chile). Trips that other people have suggested: Buenos Aires, Mendoza (Argentina), Easter Island, the Amazon Rainforest, and Patagonia (in the south - easiest to go during the summer). Within Valparaiso, you should take the O micro, which drives through all the hills in Valpo, so you can see the city. Also, Playa Ancha, the southernmost cerro, is gorgeous. Cerro Alegre and Cerro Concepcion have a lot of cafes and are popular among tourists and students, and the flat area near the port is where a lot of the nightlife in Valpo is. The Botanical Garden (technically in Viña, I believe), is also lovely, and the beach in Viña is popular (check out the huge sand statues of animals - they change every few days).
(8) Use an ATM card instead of traveller's checks - the checks are a pain to cash and, as long as you take out money in large, infrequent blocks, you will not lose much through the fixed fee that your bank incurs.
(9) Explore the markets and ambulant vendors in northern Viña and downtown Valparaiso near Pedro Montt.
(10) Wander. Drag along a Chilean or another traveller, pick a street or a hill, and start walking. Don't get too lost, of course, and try to avoid the upper parts of the cerros, which are rather dangerous.
02 May 2005
Classes: Valparaíso, Chile
Wow. It seems to be May now. I'm not quite sure how that happened, nor how to go about writing this entry since some of you know what's been going on and some of you don't and then there some things I will just not go into online... We'll just break it into categories... Classes, travel, people, random reflections on the overall experionce of being here, and suggestions for anyone else intending to study abroad here, perhaps? I'll break this up by entries.
Classes... So, I've been taking classes here since early March - two obligitory courses from CIEE called Chile Contemporaneo and Globalización, and the rest of my classes are taken through the university: Lengua Materna, Etimologias Greco-Latinas en el Español, Literatura Español 3, Coreano 1, and Baile Social. I am perfectly aware that few (if any) of you care about the classes, so just skip this entry if you want to.
Chile Contemporaneo was a two-week introduction to chilean culture and cities and was over by the time we started the classes at La Catolica. In addition to lectures, we went to various locations in Santiago, Valparaiso, and other areas nearby. In Santiago, we visited the office/press of El Mercurio, one of Chile's most widely read newspapers; La Moneda; El Museo de Arte Precolombino; the cathedral near la Plaza de Armas; the market and La Chascona, one of Pablo Neruda's three houses, in addition to wandering around Providencia, the neighborhood we lived in during our first week in Santiago. In Valparaiso, we went on a tour of the port in a boat, el Museo al Cielo Abierto, La Sebastiana (another Neruda house), and had a general tour of all the buildings of our university, which has different buildings for all the departments spread throughout Viña del Mar and Valparaiso.
Globalization is almost a continuation of Contemporary Chile, but based more in the classroom (two 1.5 - 3 hour lectures by guest speakers each week). We do go on trips as a class as well though. We went to Rabuco, Pucon, and Isla Negra as a group (see pictures on Snapfish). As it is another CIEE class, it is comprised entirely of foreign students, which is unfortunate. Although the lecture topics are varied, they all relate to the theme of... globalization. (Shocking, I know). Right now, we are working on mini-group research projects of our own design and Steph and I are very excited about ours. We're researching the role of women in Chilean culture: how it is changing, how the different generations consider the position of "dueña de casa" (housewife) in terms of influence within the family, the aspirations that younger women have for their futures, and the prevalent ideas regarding the "proper" role for women today versus, say, 50 years ago. We're getting a bit overzealous with this, since we only have a month to do the entire project, which is supposed to culminate in a 3-5 page paper and our project proposal was already 4 pages long... But we're really interested in the topic, especially in connection with the upcomming presidential elections... For those of you who aren't paying attention, the two frontrunners in the presidential race are women and one, Michelle Bachelet, is a single mother (by choice), who is currently the favored candidate. There was a televised debate between the two about a week ago in which a FEMALE reporter asked why the husband of Soledad Alvear, the other candidate, wasn't present, Alvear responded by saying that it was a chauvanistic question that should not have been asked. Anyway, other classes...
Lengua Materna ("mother language") is my favorite class by a long shot. It's a requisite first-year course for students intending to become teachers of Castellano and is mainly an intensive linguistics course on the morphological, semantical, and sintactical aspects of spanish grammar. Next on the list of favorite classes, we have a tie between Greco-latin word roots in Spanish and Korean 1. I am the only gringa in both classes, which I rather enjoy, but I get to learn two new alphabets in additional to the introduction into Latin, Greek, and Korean.
Spanish Literature 3 is an interesting class, but about half of the students are foreign and we don't cover all the material (about 3-4 books per test) before taking the test - we tend to discuss one author and then throw together our own conclusions about the others. But we get to do individually designed research papers in this class too, so I approve of it.
Finally, the dance class rocks. Twice a week, we meet up in the basement of the engineering building to learn salsa (and merengue). With the exception of Jorge, the "professor" (he's also a Chilean student at our university), the class is all gringos. We've also gone out together to go dancing in Valpo, which was very fun. We went out to Aché Havana, which is way better than Puerto Bahia, where we went with Héctor, Juan Pablo, et al a few times. So, we'll be repeating that trip quite a bit in the remaining few months. Overall, classes are going very well.
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