WHAT??? AN UPDATE???

No, not really... Will have one soon though :P

A thought

Although I love Chile, I'm finding that the longer I'm here the more of a patriot I am becoming. I love the United States. Just don't expect me to go off to a gun rally or anything...

I've added pics to the last few, btw...

Before you read, please go HERE and get in the mood... this song rocks, but is totally unconnected to my following story.

The Nameless Rockers

After the family graced me with a shower and food they took me to the best part of Calama to hitchhike from. It was wonderful that they did this for more than just the testament to their generosity; it was also really far away...

The day was still hot (somewhere near 26° C) with the sun beating down, I was still sporting the ridiculously inexpensive traveler's hat and had a bandana tied around my neck. Just about the time that I had fully put on my 60 SPF and was taking a few pictures I got picked up. It turned out to be a great ride, even though I was only able to take one pic of my headless body (very grandma of me) before they stopped.

I get into this huge Mac truck, not really sure what to expect. The driver seemed patient enough already as he had to escort me all the way to the end of his trailer (almost twice because I didn’t understand) to load my bag then brought me back. Getting into this "camion con acoplado" was a bit like climbing Mt. Major, not really that hard but with rocky steep parts. He climbed in first, I followed and was surprised to see a woman sitting on the bed behind the two seats.

She was of a similar age as the man (I never got either of their names), which is to say early 50s, still young. As we started off on the first of his 18 gears the man reached forward and pushed play on the stereo. Expecting some sort of Spanish classical guitar something I was pleasantly surprised when Magic Carpet Ride by Steppenwolf came blasting out of the speakers.

There wasn’t too much that was spectacular or extremely out of the ordinary with these two, they were accommodating and (like everyone) patient with me. The man liked to honk his air horn at the shrines built on the sides of the highway in honor of futbol (uh... soccer) teams. They were well amused when I joined in the waiving, I think it helped bridge the language gap; the humor. The journey consisted of the WTHC (see previous post) and questions about music and such. They seemed impressed that I knew almost all the words to the classic rock radio tour they were trying to take me on.

Toward the end of the three hour trip to Antofagasta they started giving me tips on how to hitchhike. Smile. Use a sign. Stand where local traffic is less likely than long distance traffic. If the sign isn’t working, change the destination to "A Little South" or something similarly vague. Check out the driver first but don’t take too long or you'll lose your ride. Things like that. I really appreciated how warm they were, welcoming me into their lives for that little time and wishing me luck and care for the rest of my journey when they dropped me off by the docks.

Antofagasta is a sea port city that was once more bustling than it is now (similar with Valparaiso, falling under hard times after the Panama Canal cut down on all the ships who needed to travel the entire coast to reach the other side of the continent), and though there is some disrepair visible at the docks, the city seems to still be doing well. Looking away from port the buildings are the same with other cities, noting too grand or big but some nice sky scrapers. The mountains just a little inland are similar to those of Valparaiso where the sides of shipping crates were used to make homes, coloring the mountainsides brilliantly.

I found an internet café (impressing the bicyclist I asked for directions by understanding simple directions like 'right.' 'left' and 'straight' even though I was from the US - I love to break down international misconceptions) and started the search for a hostel. I found two or three, none having web sites, just listed in black and white on equally boring yellow-page type directories.

The Family Man

I got some help from one of the workers at the internet café with making reservations and finding the address. I set off with an hour to waste and some tasty 'dulces' from the bakery next door. I was sitting in a nearby park eating my treats when I heard drums and a band of Hindus singing praise in the Harri Krishna way walked by. I don't know exactly why, but hearing a familiar chant from the Ashram really made me feel more confident in this strange city. I smiled and nodded to the lead man, hand on my heart, and he responded with a beaming smile of understanding and grace. Cool stuff.

I eventually got to the hostel and misunderstood the guy there three or four times before I finally decided just to do what I wanted and wait outside for the proprietor to arrive. When she did I was promptly chastised for not waiting inside as (evidently) the guy with the incomprehensible accent had told me. I got signed in and then took a nap.

The room was far from the worst I've slept in at this point, but then it was pretty bad. One light bulb hanging from the ceiling, a noisy TV that buzzed even when off (I promptly unplugged it), and three hard beds with less than pristine looking sheets. Funny enough, it was perfect. Shortly after my nap I got up and went to get some food. I asked for a good, cheap, place nearby and was escorted out the door to the company of a shrill whistle and some sort of yelling (he was telling some unknown people down the street that I was gonna come with them), and a light push on the shoulder in the direction of the others.

The four of us went to this dive that only had BBQ chicken and soup, but it was really cheap and the portions were good. We didn't do a whole lot of talking at the time, there was a soap opera on the TV (Tela Novelas are a big thing in all Latin American culture, by the way, NEVER get in the way of a Chilean's soaps!), but it was established that I would be leaving in the same fashion as I arrived very early the next morning and that I couldn't understand that same one guy who tried to help me out earlier. When I was finished with my food the gentle looking taller of the three men offered me some of his and after a (very) little protest I accepted, he was encouraging it as I had a big trip in the morning. On the way back to the hostel they all helped me find bread, tomatoes and avocado for breakfast.

We got back to the rooms and I remembered that the tall man had never been to San Pedro, so I invited him in to see some of the pictures I had taken. I didn't have many of scenery, mostly of friends so I showed him some of what I could and he took out his camera.

We probably sat there for two and a half hours talking. He showed me pictures of his whole family and gazed lovingly at his children as well as gave me a tour-from-a-distance of the whole south of Chile via my map and his stories of where he has worked and lived. He seemed sad through this conversation, though, and I was sorry to hear that it was with a little resentment that he heard of my travels. Asking what my plane ticket cost to get here to Chile he remarked that it was three months pay for him. He spoke of the Chilean dream as he saw it "El sueño chileano es tener una casa pequeña y un auto." All he could feasibly dream about was having a small house and a car that worked. "Trabajo por mi hijo." It was with such melancholy and pride that he said this. His purpose for life was to work that his son could have a better one than he had. I respect that fiercely. I asked if he was tired or sad, and he said he missed his children.

He left, wishing me luck and safety with a long handshake and a sad holding of eyes, and he went to bed. I never saw him again as I was away before he was awake the next morning.

Soon: The Talkative Teacher

I went for a run today (I haven't worked out in a few weeks and my body is upset with me) and headed to a playground Cristian showed me (cool rope-type-elements big enough for me to play on!) but when I got there there were far too many kids for me to have any fun... So I sort of sulked off to the side until I saw these two guys doing flips and jumps nearby. It reminded me of the Parcour and Free Running I am interested in, but here it was live and not just on some video online. I longed to go ask them about it but was shy, so I sat by and watched until I noticed that near to them were some little boys trying to do the same mix of martial arts, gymnastics and dancing.

I had had enough with being embarrassed; if little kids can have the gumption, so can I. I went up and asked them about what they were doing, how long they had been doing it and could I join. I was answered with nothing but enthusiasm and I spent the next two and a half hours practicing handstands, cartwheels, hand springs and front flips (I finally got the hand springs without killing myself, my longest handstand was probably for 15 seconds and I successfully did repeated front flips off the grass into the sandpit!). Once there were too many little kids around to be effective they left - taking me with them - to another place nearby to continue. I started practicing front flips on flat ground (never quite successfully) and got even better at my hand springs. I also started trying doing slow round off type things that rewinded back into regular standing (just picture me doing it forward then backward), and I started to do jump spins, like where I jump, spin parallel to the ground, and land on one foot upright again. I almost got those.

When I left they invited me to join them every Saturday and Sunday from 3:00 until night if I wanted. I don't know if I can commit to both days what with school and social obligations, but I will definitely join them for one of the days each week. How lucky, and cool people too.

Now that you have read this, to get you back into a specific mood, watch THIS. This is what I am now learning to do, and it’s called Tricks.

Multi-part Series Anyone?

Its been more or less two days since I started on this journey and so far I've come (according to the infallible Google Maps) 1,101 Km. I've found myself extremely lucky as I have met helpful, generous and interesting people along the way and have never found myself without a feeling of gratitude that all seems to be going easily.

On my first day, shortly after my last posting, I found myself about two kilometers outside of San Pedro thickly applying 60 SPF sunscreen and rearranging my pack (for the fourth time). One never knows how long they'll be standing in one place while hacer dedoing, so I wanted to be prepared for any eventuality. I had everything arranged just as I liked it and it only took me about an hour to realize that everything I would actually need (sun hat, sun glasses, pant legs, etc) were totally inaccessible for less than 10 minutes of digging.

The Family

Luckily I was only in that place for about 15 minutes before I was picked up by a nice man named Erick on his way to Calama, about 150 Km from San Pedro. The ride with him was uneventful in that I was not yet accustomed to talking totally in Spanish - thus utilizing the much spoken of technique of "Por exemplo" (consider it a challenge that I'm letting you translate that yourself - please realize that the 'x' is pronounced like an 'h' - (I just want to add one more aside, thanks for hanging in there!)) - and he was very willing to just talk about anything that happened to be going on outside the car at any one moment. Perfect! He was pleasant and interested and I was learning about the geography, the fauna, flora, the reason they have drainage ditches in the middle of the driest desert in the world... Lots of stuff.

Before too long I was getting accustomed to speaking with him and he started to ask about my past and what I was doing in Chile, what my family is like, school and all that (From now on I will refer to this as the What The Heck conversation since I have it with everyone along the way). Only a bit further along he offered to take me home so I can rest a bit before heading out again.

We got to his house, having a conversation about slums and poorer places in the US as compared to Chile at the time, and he welcomed me right in. He lived a concrete development with a larger than usual sized lawn outside. It turned out he worked in construction and had found the economy hard on business (downfalls in USA economy KILL Chile, it turns out). We went inside and I realized the use of concrete was two-fold: 1. Its cooler. 2. There aren't any trees in the desert.

His wife Karen (no, they're both native Chileans) greeted me enthusiastically and offered the shower and some food to me, introduced me to their two year old daughter (their son stayed upstairs, as 11 year olds will) and went on with the What The Heck conversation (from now on referred to as the WTHC, pronounced 'WUHTTIC'). They were extremely welcoming, warm and wanted to keep in touch. Quickly we had a pen and paper out and were writing our emails and facebook info. They even offered their house for any time I come through the area and I need a place to sleep or rest.

After we were through taking pictures and learning about each other we all piled into the tiny truck and they took me to the best spot for hitchhiking out of Calama. We parted with well wishes and promises to keep in touch.

Next: The Nameless Rockers

The first step

Firstly: I've added photos that have almost nothing to do with this post, I just wanted to show some things from the San Pedro de Atacama.

I'm still in the Atacama desert, but now I don't have anyone with me. The group left last night around 8 and I decided to go back my own way; I'll meet up in Santiago when classes start again next week.

Sitting in an internet cafe, I am already impressed by the people I have met on my journey south.

Oh, maybe I should tell you what I'm doing before I go into the people: I decided to hacer dedo (hitch hike) the 1,700 Km from San Pedro de Atacama to Santiago, the goal being to arrive before Monday (preferably get there by early Sunday) and spend as little money as possible... The irony of using a public pay-by-the-minute computer to blog does not escape me, I might add.

Anyway, back to the people: Last night I was walking around the town after my group had left, I was looking for food but - this being a tourist town - most meals were somewhere around $10 a plate and I was looking for something a bit cheaper, or at least including drinks for that price. I stumbled upon this little dirt-and-gravel floored restaurant that had a grungy cooler and the menu written on the walls in colorful chalk. Much more to my taste. I ordered the Atacameña (a wonderfully nutritious sandwich with what seemed like fried beef, ham, onions, tomato and an egg) and sat there in the emptiness waiting for my heart attack to arrive. In walked a nervous looking gringo who moved in a circle for a minute before sitting near me. It was only once he tried to order an empanada napoliana (tomato sauce and hot dog in a fried dough thingie) that I decided to say hello... mainly because the poor waitress couldn't understand his even poorer Spanish.

Captain Alejandro saves the day! His name was Ralph (pronounced with a back of the throat loogie-hawking sound due to the Germanness that he was). We spoke through out my meal about traveling and seeing the world, and when the waitress came back to me to tell him that there were only cheese empanadas I suggested he join me in death and have an atacameña as well. He did.

Parting ways eventually, I set out in search of a happy hour nearby. I found one at a nice restaurant with friendly and humorous wait staff who liked to stare at the gringo, then joke with him (me). Again there sat near to me citizens in need of assistance, and C.A. didn't hesitate! When I heard the gringos sitting at a nearby table attempt to order wine (pronouncing "vino" as "wine") and saw the waitress (they seem to get stressed easily here) start to shake her head nervously, I asked if they wanted white or red. They said "we just want to make sure its free with the meal." So I translated, to the enthusiastic cheers of everyone in town. Talking with them, I learned they were also German traveling on holiday and were grateful to have a drink to take off some of the stress of journeying. They offered me some of the gigantic empanada they ordered, which I politely declined, and we spoke of past travels. They were familiar with the US, having lived in and hitchhiked across it, and were enthusiastic to hear about my travels as well. I wished them well when all was said and done, and taking my super-duper-translator-cape with me, I left to find somewhere to sleep.

Two nights ago me and some friends found our way to a field to watch the stars (with our new-found abilities to recognize a bunch of constellations as taught by a local astronomer), and my buddy Naveen and I decided to stay the night and sleep out there. So last night I tried to find the same field... without much luck.

I walked for a few kilometers in various directions, knowing all the while that I was in the general vicinity (e.g. town) as I had been the night before. After working my way through countless (well, maybe 3) wrong turns I sucked it up and asked a local who was walking with his girlfriend/wife/prostitute/mother-in-law if he knew of anywhere I could camp for free. He gave me some general directions, of which I understood little except for "right," "left," and "something to do with camping," and I went on my way. After I took a blatantly wrong turn, he took pity on me and he invited me to walk with him and his lady friend. They took me down a few roads then pointed me to a field and told me where it would be safe for me to sleep without getting in trouble from the owners. They were both very nice, willing to have conversation and ask questions about me and what I was doing. They laughed at a joke I made and made one of their own. I feel very lucky to have been guided to sleep by them.

This morning I woke up to a phone call from Cristian, it was good to have a send off on my journey by a familiar and welcome voice. Leaving the camp site I worked my way back to town to find breakfast and wait for the cell phone store to open so I could recharge my minutes and buy another battery charger. In all my infinite wisdom I left my charger in the laptop bag that has been taken back to Santiago by my friend Justin...

Entering my favorite restaurant (for the food, not the service - a meal normally takes 1-2 hours depending on how responsive the servers are feeling) I find Ralph sitting, waiting for his tour to the thermal baths to leave. I asked to join him and we spoke during breakfast of the things we hoped to see and do, and those things done that we enjoyed. We parted with good wishes and smiles.

I am now 37 minutes 32 seconds into my internet time here in San Pedro de Atacama, the cafe has small tables with two or three benches surrounding them, eight computers, five customers and two estadaunidense (US Americans). The cell phone store opens in eight minutes, I have to buy a gallon of water and some granola bars then go stand by the entrance of the town with my sign for Calama. In less than a half hour I will have officially started my trip.

I hope the official start isn't by way of standing in the sun forever.

Lots of love, wish me luck.

Peace

So I land in the Atacama desert...

And I might as well have landed in Reno. I wish I hadn't left the spare battery to my camera in Santiago because now I can't upload a picture for you to see how similar the places are.... just desert...

I don't have a whole lot to say right now, I'm finding it difficult to regularly deep you up to date, and therefore there's so much that I don't say that I end up not being able to say anything when I try.

I'm staying at a really nice hostel/hotel place in San Pedro de Atacama (http://www.sanpedroatacama.com/ingles/home.htm) that has a nice pool and access to town. I've rented mountain bikes and bombed my way through twisty trails in raveines and across the one river in the desert. I've seen the sunset from 10,000 feet and watched the colors change and grow off the sides of the Andes.

Tonight I'm going with the group to an observatory and see the stars as we've never seen them before.

Chao

as an aside

while waiting for the rest of my espisode of its always sunny in philladelphia i thought id throw some stuff out here for a bit id like to know how you like my new format

so this weekend was a trip for the usac program to valparaiso and vina del mar but i didnt know about it im not sure how it is that i spaced on the info but in return for my neglagence i got a four day weekend :d

i seem to remember being out till four or five on friday night saturday morning though i dont remember if i was actually out or just watching movies that late sat was nothing special i think i pretty much just chilled all day probably slept till noon its been nice talking to some of my relatives in new york though its my gmas birthday

sunday i was going to spend looking at motorcycles and chilling with my friend cristian and we decided to do an impromptu camping trip in the mountains as it was poorly planned and very last minute we ended up getting to one of the towns close to our destination at night around nine and started walking up the road we picked up a couple of buses on the way and tried in vain to hitch hike in the end we climbed a hillish cliff next to the road and camped at the top

we had intended on camping further up the road but as i had no idea where we were going and cristian didnt know how far it was in the night we decided to stay put we had hot coco cooked over my beer can stove and tuna from the can

today we started walking back and the first car i stuck my thumb out to picked us up and brought us to the town with the buses i love the transportation system here in chile i challenge any one of you to stick your thumb out on rt 4 and get taken to a bus station anywhere between durham and concord with access to manchester it doesnt exist buses here go everywhere and if they dont its not unlikely that you can get picked up through hitchhiking

ive been going to a lot of movies lately theyre new here but most have been in the states for a while like inglorious bastards the ugly truth and sector 9 i enjoy appreciating the language subtlties that are missed by most of the people here just reading the subtitles but at the same time i know that im having similar lapses myself im also getting all the pixar films in spanish soon so i can practice more

ok i think thats all i want to say now

peace