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

2 in one day?!?!?!?

Ok, maybe not one day as it's 1 AM right now, but they're close.

So people are always talking about being careful about pickpockets on the metro and how we all have to constantly be aware where out belongings are at all times. I pay relative heed to this but I don't let it rule my world. I try not to do stupid things and, for the most part, bad things don't seem to happen to me.

That being said, I left my wallet on the green line tonight. I seldom carry more than $10 US at any one point but today I had run out of the cash I keep back at my host parent's place and decided to load up... so there was over $200 in there today... plus my credit cards... plus my US and Chilean IDs... plus everything else I could possibly need.

My friend Cristian and I got off at a stop and when we realized what had happened we booked it to the security guard who got promptly on the walkie-talkie only to turn up nothing. I like to think I was keeping it cool and not getting worked up, but any of you who know me will not be surprised that I was coming to a slow boil of tsunamic proportions.

The two of us were sitting down by the rail, I was just starting to really realize all the things I wouldn't be able to do without either ID or the ATM card, and we were talking about whether we should go see the movie we were planning on... That's when she said "Hola."

The girl and her boyfriend who were sitting across from us on the metro had picked up my wallet and rode it back to find us and return it... money untouched and cards intact.

For some reason things like this happen to me a lot: I do something stupid and some surprisingly kind person in a cesspool of pickpockets decides to help me. God is good :)

*********

That said, this is not an invite (you know who you are) to tell me how terrible this could have turned out... I know it was dumb, and I'm usually careful... it was simply universal irony that I was un-careful on the day I had my life in my back pocket...

Holy Crap

Well its been a while since I wrote anything, and I'll begin my update with a comment that not only does MacDonalds have the best actual coffee in this country, it also has free wi-fi, which I find especially appealing.

This weekend I did a pseudo-spur-of-the-moment trip into the mountains in an attempt to find some of the natural and unadulterated hot springs that Chile has to offer. I say pseudo spur of the moment because I had known about the trip for a while but was totally unprepared nonetheless. I made a poor decision to stay awake entirely too late the night before and when 8:00 rolled around (the time I was supposed to be at the metro) I was just getting out of bed. In the end I made it to the meeting place almost two hours late. This was actually fortunate because the people I was meeting had gone to two or three other locations in the mean time trying to find the right bus to take them to the mountains and ended up arriving at almost the same time as I did.

They had found – through some spin of chance – an English speaking Greek who was going with his friends to a nearby locale and offered us a ride. After waiting and trying (in vain) to find a public restroom with a toilet seat we hopped into the back of a large windowless white van with six other people. Sitting scrunched up on a mattress amongst hiking gear and Chileans we made the two hour trip to the mountains being spared very little excitement. I won't go into the details of the trip because it would conjure up images of 1960s road trips and I'm trying to spare my mom an anxiety attack, but suffice it to say we were safe and got to a nearby town without mishap.

Me and the two others on the trip walked a few kilos to another town where we were told we had missed all the busses to the hot springs... which was depressing. But we found a cab and for only $5.000 pesos (about $10 US) we arrived there as well.

When I said earlier that I was unprepared, I wasn't just speaking of waking up late... I figured that the hot springs would cost around $2.500 pesos, and then there would be a bus ride of a few hundred, so I brought along $5000... which was already spent by the cab ride. In addition, I wore my tennis shoes because I thought the 10k ride was going to be used up by a cab instead of trekking through snow-and-mud covered trails. Along with that I didn't bring more than one pair of clothes, and no sleeping pad for under my sleeping bag... so I guess it was fortunate that I wasnt actually able to make it in the end.

We go to he last town before the springs (10k away) and I realized that I couldn't make it back to Santiago the next day by 1 pm for a get together with some Chilean friends and I took a bus back. The trip was fun, and I slept the whole way home.

When I got home I realized I had lost my house key and the entire family was in the country at their campo. Damn. Not knowing what to do I called Cristian, a friend I've made here, and he said I could chill with him and his friends for the night if I wanted; I had a place to sleep, which was a good thing as I gave my sleeping bag to Naveen who didn't have one for the hot springs.

The night passed without trouble, I spoke broken Spanish to rapidly conversing Chilenos, and was complemented on my comprehension, and then I woke up and continued the day.



************************************

This is where I come to my troubles right now...

I've been relatively good at most things I've tried, and school is included in that statement. The fact that I've always struggled in language classes is something I've always attributed to my not caring, or just not applying myself... I never actually considered that language grammar might be difficult for me.

That said, I need to get a tutor. I'm floundering right now in my language class... My comprehension is good and my speaking is quick and accurate enough to be able to sustain conversation on most levels, but my technical skills with this language are terrible and my test scores are showing it. The three tenses of the subjunctive are especially tricky.

If I had a guaranteed year here I wouldn't have a worry as my understanding and speaking are greatly improving, but when my second semester is dependent upon success of my first, anxiety kicks in... and I don't do well with anxiety.

Ao I'm afraid of the future as I'm almost half way through this semester. I have a test tomorrow on subject matter I dont understand and the sympathy and understanding of my teacher goes about as far as eating a hot dog for helping me out. I just hope Universidad de Andres Bello has tutors available.

Will keep you updated.

Peace

wow

I feel like its been ages since I've written anything here, and I really need to get back into it. I really enjoy writing here, as much for myself as for any of you who are checking in, but I've found it hard to keep up.

One update though, tomorrow (10/1/09) marks the first day of my goal to only be speaking in Spanish. I'm sure it will be a bit more like Spanglish, but except for writing here and when talking to people who kno no Spanish that will be my language of choice for the duration of my 8 month stay here.

Estoy intimidado. I'm not so much worried about being able to get by as I am about losing my personality behind the lack of vocab (which will improve quickly) as well as the commitment this is going to take not to fall into the habit of speaking in the language that is easy for me.

More to come, I promise :)

Chao

Home

Today was the first time I have really felt homesick since I've been here. It started earlier when I was having some tea that reminded me of the RedRose that my mom always keeps at home and progressed later on after I spoke to my dad.

The time that it really set in, though, was when I was at the supermarket with Carlos. We were looking for cheddar cheese so I could make nachos (one of the Americanish foods I've been craving) and we couldn't find it anywhere except in little laminated sandwich packages. We finally found these little bricks for entirely too much money but though Carlos insisted we get them (at least this once) I was constantly conscious of how much they cost, how little was there, and how unhomelike it was to only have flavorless cheeses available.

Cheese is a big thing in my family, and we tend to like sharp cheeses too. In Chile it seems that they only like bland mozzarella type cheese and that only reminds me that I'm on the other side of the world. I've been craving nachos for weeks and now that I have the makings (the entire supermarket only carried one flavor of salsa, by the way) I have to be stingy in my usage. Que lastima.

I miss home. I miss popcorn with yeast, I miss fruit soups, I miss nachos and "whatever you can find" dinners.

Its good to be here, but I would like just a day back again.

Out for the night. Peace.


*********


Its about 45 min after I first posted this and I'm feeling much better. I've had my nachos which were as similar as I think I'm gonna get with out going to a specialty import store, and they cheered me up nicely. I begrudged for a moment having to share them with the others (they seem to think that when it's meal time I should eat four helpings, but when it's my snack time I should share one helping) but I got over it and am happier for it.

One thing I thought was interesting, at the supermarket the American (US American) section consisted mainly of Prego tomato sauce and mayonnaise. Strange...

BEST SKIING EVER!!!!

Ok, well, maybe not the best ever but it was pretty damn phenominal.

Me and two buddys went up to Vale Navada on Saturday to try out the slopes for the first time since the Best-Worst-Weekend-Ever a few weeks back and we were not disappointed. In the sun the temperature rose nearly to 65 degrees (that's my guess anyway) but the snow kept a constant fluffy powder all morning into the early afternoon.

Back on the East coast I'm what they call an "expert" skier (no need to be awed, I'll be signing autographs later), but that in no way translated into anything similar here in the powder. The mountains here have qualities very different from eastern slopes, consisting mainly of the lack of trees (and more altitude, and more size, and more awesomeness). In the North East skiers and boarders have to stay mostly on the groomed trails of the mountain, every now and again being allowed to drift into 'glades' trails between trees. Here there are no such restrictions. The main trails are so large that they are called 'roads' and what they call 'trails' are tiny (about the size of trails in the N.E.) connectors between roads. The rest of the mountain is free game.

One of the guys I went with - Lee (left) - would be considered far slower of a skier than me if we were to have a straight out battle down the slopes of, say, Attatash or Cranmore, but here he destroyed me. In fact, I started off trying to get my yah-yahs out by blasting down the main road and promptly caught an edge and yardsaled my ass all over my first run. That was embarrassing... Not only were my DINs way lower than I was used to, but without having skied regularly in four years I was similar to my 53 year old father deciding to commando roll out of a speeding boat because he had been good at it in his 20s in the military... it was a bad scene...

Lee and Justin (the boarder of the group) pulled up, laughed, and as I rubbed the bruise out of my pride we set off for ungroomed trails.

Oh yea, I was talking about Lee being slower... anyway, once we got off the main road he pulled us high up and we skirted along the side of the mountain way above where other skiers regularly go. We followed this line for about five minutes before suddenly Lee decided to blast ahead and launch off a four foot ledge onto a nearly vertical slope. It looked pretty awesome. What I did, did not. I followed him, 'launched' (read: flopped) off the ledge, landed on the back of my skis which promptly popped off my boots and tumbled head over heels down the rest of the hill.

That is a pretty good sum up of the first half of my day.

Now don't get me wrong, I got better. Learning to ski on powder is actually far easier than learning to carve on hard-pack, so I caught on quickly. I never ceased to face plant myself up and down the mountain, but I did it with less regularity and in more diverse situations. No longer was I eating it only on the descents, I ate it on some of the ascents too! Actually by the end of the day I was bombing down the mountain, launching myself off ledges and landing it, and shooting my way down nearly vertical slopes without too much trouble... I just wish I had another day to show off, it took nearly seven hours for me to get good again, I'm sure after another seven I'd be jumping outta choppers.




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Wow... everyone in this house is a horrible singer.....


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So, there are a lot of words here that I don't think should have easily made their way into common usage. The one I'd like to focus on today is the little phrase "chiquitito." This cutesie sounding word sounds like it would be used to describe baby kittens (which would have to be young indeed to be baby kittens vs. regular ones) or something similarly melty-your-heartish. In fact, this word can be used to describe such things, but really it simply means 'small.' Against my initial assumption, it doesn't make a big bulky guy less manly to describe something as chiquitito while in Chile (used in Columbia will promptly have said muscle man abducted and held for ransom from the TelleTubbies). I went yesterday to buy this killer mid-size hiking pack and the dude in the store, when I described that I wanted something a little less hike-around-the-world-without-refillingish than my massive bag back home, he said "necesitas una mas chiquitito, si?"

I punched him in the face before I realized what he was talking about...

I just don't understand why something that sounds like what my mom would name one of our cats would make its way into regular vocabulary; especially in such a machismo society...

I guess it's just a mystery for another day.

Peace out, cub scouts.

I don't think I could have planned a more perfect day. Today I did exactly what I wanted to do: almost nothing. I woke up at 2 (was out late last night celebrating the Dia de Independencia with the rest of the nation), ate some food and then sat around all day making this:



I'm so happy with it, it's an alcohol camp stove made from a couple of left over beer cans and a 10 peso coin! I found the plans online the other day and have been dying to try and make it. It has 6 jets and can boil water as quickly as most of the $60 camp stoves you'd see at a store. Plus it's lighter, smaller and really freaking cool. I could feasibly make it with a pocket knife if I needed to, but I like Dremels better. I don't think I'll be camping before late October but that just leaves me more time to make better ones as this one is a bit on the rough side.

I've decided that I'm not going to give a whole run-down of my time in Valparaiso last weekend because there's just too much to write and if I don't get back to blogging regularly I can see I'll end up quitting. So suffice it to say I had an amazing time in an amazing city and the next time I go there, I'll fill you in more. As for now, I'll just post some pictures of it.

Peace!

Catching up

I'll be back on in another few days but today I'm heading to Isla Negra and Vina del Mar with the group, then spending the weekend in Valparaiso. I'm not gonna have internet... at least until Monday.

Things are still going well and remaining interesting here but I find myself more discriminate about what I write and when, I don't know why...

Ok, out for the trip!

The best, worst, weekend ever.

This weekend was crazy, I'm gonna give the short of it because I feel like watching a movie and just chilling tonight, I'm exhausted.

Lets just say that the layers of this weekend consisted of emotional smörgåsbord-ness, unmet expectations, theft, death, cold, blindness, sleet, off roading, too much money spent, fragility and friendship...

As a basic break down of all that, I was freaking out about the Craigslist thing (worked itself out, probably some pissant just being a dick), then I thought people wouldn't show up for the ski trip to the Andes, it was raining and the metro opened 45 minutes later than we were supposed to meet at it. We get together, only four of us show up out of the eight or so who said they'd be there, and rent stuff then leave on the bus. The rest of that trip was uneventful except there are so many switch backs in the Andes to get to the resorts that they're numbered... and they decided to start at one again after reaching 45...

Ok, I can see that I'm going the route of a long post, so I'm gonna abridge it now: We get to the mountain, conditions are so bad that only the rope tow was open, we go to the second mountain. There we can't see more than about 30 feet at the best of times, the other times it was even worse. I rented some goggles, we went skiing. Justin boards, about as quick as I am on skis, Naveen had never snowboarded before and did about three runs the whole time, Casey was a decent skier, keeping up w/the rest of us.

We go in for lunch, I don't get served until almost 45 minutes after everyone else, and my gloves, hat and rental goggles were stolen while we were sitting right there... 

I decide to give snowboarding a try and while I was out there falling every few feet I remembered why I decided against it when I was in 5th grade. 

We get to the end of the day and its time to go only we're told there was an avalanche and no one is leaving for the night so we have to stay in a lodge owned by the University of Santiago. We went to a bar because that was the only place with food... and drinks...

We headed out today around noon to see the devastation of one house and much of the road at the bottom of the mountains, the mud slide (my uncle says there was geological activity during the storm last night) took the lives of two parents and their one year old daughter while injuring eight others.

The whole weekend was covered with a comical woe-is-me mood, but I could see how ridiculous that was while all these things were going on, as well as a certain perspective with my own problems and those of the people buried in the mud. Luckily I was in good company and I found that though I was depressed and had my stuff stolen and was stranded in the middle of nowhere and were close to three tragic deaths we kept our spirits high.

I wish I could go far deeper into all of that, maybe I'll write it sometime, but it was an exhausting weekend and I definitely could use some rest.

Life is good, even when its shitty. We just need to remember that.

Peace.

Why would someone do this?

I'm going to stray from my normal talking about Santiago to ask a question... not that I expect to get an answer from those of you who read this.

Why would someone post a malicious ad in Craigslist of me? I was told about two hours after it happened and got it deleted right away, but someone posted a hookup add saying terrible things about me, having personal information on it and including a picture of me from the Alabaster Blue (my a capella group) website.

I can only hope this is a random joke, but its not like it was posted in the middle of the night when someone might have been drunk that thought it would be funny, this was posted at 5:58 in the afternoon which implies to me that it was totally malicious and hoping to hurt me or slander me in the eyes of those who know me. I can see this working as a joke if I were straight and someone was just messing around, but since I'm gay, and this was on a sleazy gay hookup page, theres a chance that it could be seen as authentic.

Yesterday something painful happened, I'm not going to talk about it and it's not like anyone was physically hurt, but I'm so worried that this craigslist ad is some sort of retort to that... I hope not because it is so cruel. Please tell me its not.

...

Its been a rough day. I don't feel like writing about it so I'm gonna post some pics instead.

Splling Errers

Today had so many different feelings about it that I can hardly describe it. It was crazy intimidating then super fun then confusing then sleepy then wild again and on and on! It started out normal enough, with me getting up later than I intended and missing this morning's opportunity to go to the gym for the first time. Then I got on the bus/metro and got to school an hour before my class because I had yet again misjudged my schedule. I read a lot today, still working with Lyra and her friends in the Golden Compass series. I'm actually trying to get through this book as fast as I can because I've seen a disadvantage to reading in a familiar language: it takes longer for my brain to rebound into Spanish mode from reading than it does from merely speaking in English. I can Spanglishasize pretty well, but if I'm reading in English then someone speaks to me in Spanish I have like this huge tractor trailer pileup in my brain before I can answer... So I'm gonna finish then start los Cuatros Acuerdos.

I guess I don't really have all that much to say about the day, I had my first photography class which was only the intro class telling all that stuff we already know. The teacher speaks super fast though and it'll definitely be a challenge to keep up once we get out of camera knowledge I already have. (Oh, that reminds me, David (a gigantic Norse viking in our group, looking and acting unusually like my late Uncle Mike) and I have agreed that we want to be speaking completely in Spanish by October... it won't be perfect, or even good probably, but that's out goal.)

After classes I decided not to go out with people in lieu of my book and a snack. After two hours of reading or so I got up, changed clothes and went to the gym. Oh how my body was longing for the gym! I have been intimidated by so much while here that I have completely forgotten to give my body what it asks for! I got there and I felt strong, I was knowledgeable, I was able! It's been almost two weeks since I felt completely in my element, but no matter how far from home I am a dumbbell is always a dumbbell. It felt good to feel strong, I need to be strong. I'll be going back soon.

Out.

Oye! Baile!

I learned the Meringue today! Now I know there are a few of you who will read that and scoff, but I tell you judge not! I am indeed an up and coming Latino dancer! I even got a "muy bien!" from the dance instructor, which (and I'm not kidding) she did not give to everyone. I'm so happy! It was an evening class offered through the program and I though "what the hell? I'm in South America, I might as well learn how to dance." None of my partners tonight were terrible, but there was one who was by far the best of them; it's a good thing that we're developing a dynamic of comfort because it seems so much easier to lead when we're close as the Meringue is supposed to be danced. Most of my partners were like me: either they didn't know what they were doing, or they thought they did (both of which applied(*ahem* applies) to me at one point or another) and so I can't say they were bad or good, just inexperienced. Aleah, on the other hand, had helped many a rhythmically challenged lad in dancing. We spend some time on my hips, and then moved actual moves. I picked up the steps quickly and was enthusiastic to improve, my only real problem is the habit of moving the same hip as my foot, instead of them being opposite, and I attribute that all to my shoulders which - similarly - follow the foot on the same side... so picture a fat Labrador retriever running one complete side at a time, simply rolling left then right... That was me. In the beginning.

At the end we were actually working through the dance moves with relative confidence. Its all up to the guy to lead, to watch out for others and to direct, it is the girl's job to follow (which is probably really difficult). I was surprised to find, as I moved to another partner, that Aleah was an excellent follower and thus made me a better and more confident leader. I hope that we can be partners again, I think that we'll probably make quicker progress if we continue to work together then if we have to keep switching through other dancers of different levels... Plus I like that I look like a better dancer when I'm with her :D

I don't have any pictures today, I left the camera at home as my bag was full of books... I wish I had brought my hiking bag because it's bigger with wider shoulder pads... maybe I should get one here that's between the small day pack I've got and the behemoth 7500 c.i. bag at home... What brings me to this topic is I met this guy Brendon on the metro this morning. I saw him standing a few people away and was trying to figure out why he kept glancing at me, then I noticed the blond hair, the All Star chucks and the CamelBak bag so I said "Are you American? Estas estadaunidense?" He looked surprised and said "Yea, I'm from Vermont!" I guess he was trying to figure out if I was from the US as well. He seems like a cool kid, he's studying international business at another college here. He grew up not more than a couple of hours from me, and now we met in South America! Small world and all that... Oh, and he had a bag like that, it seemed to fit all his stuff well.

I've got about five and a half hours of down time between the last of my morning class and the dance class on Tuesdays so today I spent that time with another guy from the program. I led him to a hole-in-the-wall restaurant near by that I had happened upon. It was literally a hole in a wall you yelled into, put money into and then got handed vegetarian, Indian-influenced food out of. We then decided to go on a treasure hunt for me: I needed a micro SD to USB or SD converter. I also wanted another guitar. Anyway we went through all sorts of places, when we finally found the converter it was at this massive electronics/parts/car/model/toy/musical instrument/lighting/craft store. The process is you talk to the salesman who writes you a receipt. You take the receipt to the cashier who gives you another one, then you go to a final desk and pick up your item... Needless to say, I didn't get it right the first three times I tried. I won't go into details, but lets just say Justin and I weren't the only ones laughing at me.

I cant believe how cheap some of the musical instruments here are! I've been looking for years for an less-than-$100 classical guitar and I found like five today for less than $60! I tested them all out and only one had tone distortion in the higher frets and even if they didn't sound like professional quality, they were still comfortable and nice to hear. (mom, this is where you give me a call encouraging me to buy something I don't need because I need the boost to get me out of my common sense). I ended up just getting some new strings for the guitar I brought with me.

Anyway, the dancing was the highlight of my day, I loved it. Although I wasn't really nervous at the beginning, I definitely had some trepidation. I'm glad I had fun.

Chao!

How deep?

So today was both intimidating and totally frustrating, with a few moments of awesomeness. This post will be short, but as an update on what I'm up to, I am currently reading the history of Chile from 1540-1880 in Spanish... I recognize some of the words... 

Anyway, I was put in the track 1 Spanish but am currently enrolled in History of Chile which isn't allowed due to the difficult of the language in this class, so I was bumped up a level in my language courses. They didn't just say "yea it's ok" though, I had to do an entrance exam when I first got here and luckily I did well enough to confirm that I could take track 2. So now I'm in intermediate Spanish, I'm going to actually get credit for the photography class as well as for this Hx of Chile course. Now all I have to do is not fail.

For some reason if I read this text slowly, it totally confuses the crap out of me and I understand very little. But when I skim it, or just read more quickly, pictures seem to create themselves in my mind and I get a basic idea of what they're talking about. I hope that's enough.

Peace.

Feliz Cumplianos Usted!

Today was the 91st birthday of my host Grandma, the entire family got together for a big lunch-into-dinner at a local resort. The grounds there had multiple soccer fields and plenty of tennis courts as well; the pool was closed for the 'winter' despite it being nearly 70 degrees today (well I guess that's too cold for swimming but it's certainly not winter).

The day started off early with preparations at home, my host family didn't know then that I have a lot of kitchen experience from back in the states so they assumed my requests to help were merely politeness. Later on in the day that changed though and they were glad for the help. I don't know if this is how all families work but in mine we usually spend the day cooking and preparing for a family reunion and then pull everything together already completed at the party. It was fairly different here: The clams, muscles and other shellfish (super cheap here, by the way) were all cleaned in advanced and the ingredients collected but all of the cooking was done at the venue.

Starting with the onions and continuing to other vegetables, meats and the salad everything was prepared at the resort. I spend most of the early afternoon cutting onions and steak with my pocket knife because it was the only free knife available. I then lent it out to cut through chicken legs because it was also the only one with an adequately bad-ass serrated edge. Everything was then thrown into giant pots that were similar to woks but much shallower and wider, then it was all simmered until perfect. Es no mas complicado.

The ingredients (in no particular order) as I remember them:

Lots of muscles, lots of clams, lots of pork, lots of chicken, lots of steak, lots of onions, lots of vegetable oil, lots of wine.

Delicious.

People brought drinks and ingredients for the salad (which was a simple iceberg and avocado mixture with a white wine dressing). Drinks were Chilano wine, Pisco sour (Pisco - similar to a rum or brandy - egg white and lime, totally delicious), Heineken, some other traditional Chilano drink (a sweet wine blended with one egg and a little sugar, super strange tasting but not bad) and soda. I don't think that the Chilean people know what water is.

Drinking started around 1215 and its strange how alcohol is simply a part of life here. It wasn't an opportunity to binge or get drunk (though a few people were noticeably giddy) but it's a custom that's just normal. "Estas aqui? Tomas una cerveza!"  I like that people felt no pressure here to drink or not to drink, it was really just chill and social, totally enjoyable. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy partying and and socializing like we do in the states, it's just that there was something I cant quite put my finger on that was different here, and I liked it as well.

Son mis padres Latinas. This is Maria Elena and Carlos, they have been wonderful in making me feel at home. All throughout the party they were introducing me as "mis hijo gringo" and I am proud to be that. Gringo is often used as an insult but in the context of a family it's totally affectionate. The family is so willing to work with me through language, especially the ones who understand some English or are closer to my age. All the children of my host parents go way out of their way to make me feel like a part of the family.

I'm finding that through my extroversion and everyone's interest in helping there are so many similarities in myself/American (US) culture and Chilean culture. Well maybe culture isn't the word - though differences aren't that huge aside from the language - but I've already been invited skiing, skateboarding, paintballing, cooking, tennising, golfing, plenty of activities. I've even found a CrossFit gym in Santiago (a passion of mine, check out www.crossfit.com)!

I'm just amazed by the cool stuff that is here and being offered to me.

Ok, I think that's it for me tonight. I'm gonna take off, catch up on what Lyra is doing in her Golden Compass alternate universe and then go to sleep. Oh, a word of advice: if a bus driver is talking too fast for you to understand, it is best not to assume he's trying to make conversation; just get off and talk to someone else instead of riding to the end of the route and having to wait at the station for a returning bus. Also don't assume that he's telling you the days he drives in order to give a full tour of Santiago during his shift... I'm not sure he wasn't inviting a tour, but its not like I would have understood him anyway... I just wanted to go to the mall.

His name was Juan, by the way.

Chao!

Una noche dificil

Ok, I'm going to try to make this quick:

It is now 5 am, and I just got home. I don't want any of you to assume that i'm wasted and only got back because of all the mad partying I've done, quite on the contrary...

The group I went out with was fun, we split into smaller groups and went to a few bars to get a feel for the different types of Chilean night lives that exist... then at the last one (around 1245) some people skipped or didn't pay in whole on the tab. Now, I don't know why I'm the one to do these sorts of things, but I was stuck trying to gather the rest of the money. In the end myself and Zac ended up paying twice our bill in order to cover the charge and tip. I left the place upset...

So the remaining group was trying to figure out how to get home and I was done dealing with them so I decided to go pick up the 401 bus that will run all the way to my place. I left the group and the rest of my night began:

Circa 1 am: I was standing at the bus stop thinking that it was the right place. I listened as best I could to the conversations around me.

Circa 145 am: I'm informed by a well meaning fellow-bus-stopper that I'm on the wrong side of the street and in fact I have to walk a block north and cross to pick my bus up. I run to the stop and make it just as my bus is leaving.

Circa 215 am: I meet a Chilean dude who worked in California for a number of years and spoke excellent Engligh. We hit it off and talked for probably 45 minutes to an hour before deciding to walk toward his place while I try to pick my bus up at another stop as the night schedule is on a as-they-come basis; we talk about how Chile has progressed in the world picture.

Circa 320 am: I finally part ways with the guy and hop the 401 at a later bus stop. After a few minutes I approach the driver saying "perdon, una pregunta. mi espanol is no bueno pero donde esta apoquindo? tomas moro con apoquindo?" I was looking for the intersection of my streets. He said "derecho" meaning straight ahead. 

Ok, this is where I sum up, I got off the bus at the supposed end of the line knowing not the least about where I was, I walk for 15 minutes to a gas station and get general directions w/o understanding the specifics. I end up walking for another 45 minutes or so in a t-shirt (I gave my sweatshirt to a woefully under dressed USAC compadre earlier in the night) in 60 degree weather until I find myself at another gas station. Again I get general directions and walk one way until I find myself practically tripping over a supermarket I recognize. From that point on I back tracked until I reached home 10 minutes later.

Its been a difficult night. I hope my host family doesn't wake me up early.