La Paz, Bolivia

We arrived in La Paz yesterday. It was a whirlwind leaving our apartment in Santiago for the last time, at 4:45am, and dealing with delayed flights in the Santiago airport, but we made it. After anticipating our entrance to Bolivia all morning, the Bolivia customs was no problem, and we haven't been robbed yet!! The altitude is a good introduction to what we'll face in Peru, and while we can feel it, I think we're acclimating well. We ran into a girl from our Teaching Chile program who was living in Valporaiso yesterday and toured parts of La Paz with her. Today we did our own version of a walking tour, taking it pretty slow. Tomorrow we fly into a town called Rurrenbaque where we will spend the night and then take a 5 hour ride in a dugout canoe to the Bolivian Amazon jungle. This was our big splurge for this trip and we're excited to see what it has in store for us. Unfortunately we don't have the equipment with us to upload pictures for the next few weeks, but we'll try to keep the blog updated.

San Pedro de Atacama

Last week we traveled to the Atacama desert in Northern Chile. We spent three and a half days there not including the 50 hours round trip on the bus.

Who would have thought the desert could be such a beautiful place? The Atacama desert is the highest and driest in the world. The Altiplano (Alpine Desert) is littered with volcanic peaks, many of them active, of up to 5000 - 6000 meters (X3 plus some change = feet). It was hard to believe that we stood at altitudes almost as high as Mount Rainier without much snow or water, but our lungs believed otherwise. The Altiplano has a rare beauty that is unique to the North of Chile. Among the many volcanoes were turquoise lakes, massive volcanic rock formations, geyser fields, and deep canyons.

We stayed in the tiny town of San Pedro de Atacama, though very touristy and expensive on the central streets, it maintains the distinct culture of Northern Chile's desert inhabitants. The smaller villages (pueblos) of the Altiplano provided an even more authentic glimpse into this culture. It was amazing to see how they use what little water is available (run-off from the Andean peaks) to survive and cultivate the land.

On our first day we rented bikes and rode through Valle de la Luna. We explored caves and rock formations, and watched the sunset over the desert. The next day we toured the Altiplano lakes, canyons, and nearby volcanoes. Our last day we left town at 4:00am to watch the sunrise over El Tatio Geysers near the Bolivian border at an altitude of 4300 meters. We nearly froze waiting for the sun to rise at a temperature of 10F, but it didn't stop us from stripping down for a dip in the thermal pools. After a relaxing afternoon in town we hopped a 24 hour bus back to Santiago.

We now have 5 days to pack up and say goodbye to Chile before we head North on our trip home. We'll try to keep the blog posted as we travel through Bolivia, Peru, and Ecuador, but no guarantees.

Birthday Ski Day

Cam's sister Lindsay and her friend Peter came to visit us in Santiago. Lindsay and I share a birthday month and both got to spend our first birthdays in the southern hemisphere. We decided to do something wintery because it's not often to have snow in June. A big group of gringos from our Teaching Chile program piled into a van, rented gear, and hit the slopes at a nearby ski hill, Valle Nevado. Now we all have the unique pleasure of being able to say, "When I was skiing in the Andes..." Happy 25th Lindsay and Debbie!

Buenos Aires

We recently took a 4 day trip to Buenos Aires, and the city lived up to all of our expectations. The architecture, food, culture and entertainment were excellent. Buenos Aires is beautiful, yet it also maintains the edginess of a South American city. It has a very international feel (especially compared to Santiago), owed to the large population of residents referred to as Porteños, whose ancestors immigrated to Argentina from all over Europe. Though it was not as cheap as we had heard (steak and wine for $5 is a thing of the past), we had a great time. The city continues to recover from the economic crash of 2001, as evidenced by the rising costs and continued restoration of the historic neighborhoods. We stayed in a San Telmo, an old neighborhood famous for steaks, street markets and tango dancing. We wandered all throughout the city, had great food and wine, went to an excellent tango show at the famous Café Tortoni, and experienced the national pride of Argentina at a soccer match between Argentina and Ecuador. We had an amazing time in Buenos Aires and would love the opportunity to return someday.




This is a video taken after Argentina scored their only goal of the game in the last 2 minutes of stoppage time, phew!!



This is a video of a street performer at the San Telmo Antique Fair, listen for Cam's laughter!

Valparaiso

Cameron's brother, Zach, came and visited us for two weeks. We had a blast with him and he fell in love with Santiago. He also brought us a replacement camera for the one we foolishly lost in La Serena. We took a weekend trip to Valparaiso, a port town about an hour and a half from Santiago. It was a great trip and we all loved Valpo. It was especially difficult to swallow as this was one of our first choices of places to live while in Chile, but it didn't work out for us to be there. Sigh. Its a colorful town with lots of character. Every street had huge murals and the houses were brightly colored. The city sits on multiple hills with houses built into the sides. There are windy staircases to maneuver the streets, and steep "ascensors" which are old lifts to take you up the steepest parts. The town just begs to be photographed, so it was a perfect chance to try out our "new" camera. We took almost 200 pictures, and it was difficult to choose our favorites to post for people to see, but I think we did an accurate job. Overall, Valpo is a great city and a must-see of Chile.

Winter has Arrived

by Debbie

The street vendors have put away the summer wares and are now selling sweaters, hats, gloves, and umbrellas. The rain seems to induce confusion here in Santiago and invite new excuses to avoid work. After the first big rain, some of the surrounding areas flooded and had “impassable” roads. We arrived to campus the next day with blue skies and sunshine despite notices of city wide school cancellations. Once there, we were told that attendance was optional, absences wouldn’t be held against students who couldn’t attend, and we weren’t to conduct any quizzes or presentations, due to the rain the previous night. The temperatures are in the mid 50’s, but that doesn’t stop people from bundling up in all possible layers. The news ran a special a couple mornings ago giving tips to people on how to deal with the cold, explaining how to bundle up and wear warm clothing. Many students have expressed concern for me when I wear a lightweight jacket to work, “Profe, you’re too cold, you will get sick.” Chileans still buy into the myth that you can catch a cold if you are cold. I had a student tell me she had to leave my class because her feet were cold, when I told her she would be absent, she gave me the most pitiful puppy dog eyes she could muster and said she didn’t feel good. *insert pathetic cough*
A mere drizzle causes a flurry of umbrellas to unfold on the city streets; this adds a whole new level of chaos to the already bustling streets of Santiago. People still rush from Point A to Point B without regard for others on the street, only now they do so with sharp umbrellas at eye gouging level. One must use extra caution when navigating even short distances, lesson learned the hard way. Those unfortunate enough not to own umbrellas (which is surprising with how much Chileans love them and the ability to buy them every two feet on the street) huddle under awnings if they can fit among the stray perros and homeless. We have been warned by numerous people of how cold it gets here in the winter. While it is significantly colder now than 2 months ago, I’m not buying into the “freezing” weather just yet, I think Chileans are just a little sensitive when the weather drops below 85 degrees. However, when the smog lifts and the rain lets up, we are left with splendid views of the snowcapped Andes, which are a faithful reminder that we’re actually here in South America and to enjoy it as much as we can while it lasts.

Seismic Activity and a Seismic Blunder

By Cameron
There was a massive volcanic erruption over the weekend, about 750 miles south of here. We have also been awakened by two small earthquakes in the last couple weeks. No suprising at all, given the number of active volcanoes and fault lines in Chile. Check out the stories and images of the erruption on the internet. Its pretty intense. Thousands of people have been evacuated from the area. There is about 6 inches of ash around the region. I cant tell the story as well as a world news article or YouTube clip, so check it out for yourselves.

In other news, we took a 7 hour bus trip to the north this holiday weeknd (Labor Day in Chile)to a beach town called La Serana. On the trip up we both fell asleep. After arriving in La Seraena we walked about a half-mile before realizing the camera was missing. I ran frantically back to the station only to see that the bus had already left for its next destination, 1000 miles north into the Atacama Desert. As we learned, there really is no procedure here for reporting lost (or stolen) items. We are pretty sure it was wedged into the seat between us and we just forgot to grab it before getting off. It was a costly and stupid mistake that we really beat ourselves up over, but had to move on so we could enjoy a nice weekend away from the madness of Santiago. Sorry, no picturres to share. DOH! We hope to be getting a replacement soon. Until then Google images will be the source for photos of Chile.

El Partido de Futból

By Cameron

Those who know me well are aware of my love for sports. I would call it a passion, an obsession and an addiction all in one. I can watch games or read about sports on the internet for hours. I even wake up in the middle of the night thinking about sports. I love team sports like my brother Zach loves music. I love the competition, the skill, the teamwork, and most of all my teams. Though it’s more enjoyable and far less stressful for me to watch sports without allegiances, I always get emotionally involved. From my alma mater UW Huskies and hometown Seahawks, Mariners and Sonics, to my 8th grade Valley View Middle School football and basketball teams, the games consume me. I can not adequately explain this to a non-sports fan, or even a casual sports fan, but if you have ever had a passion for something, you might begin to understand. Fortunately, my interests in such things as travel, adventure, music, food, humor, current events, teaching and learning all keep me reasonably balanced, and capable of relating to people other than fellow sports freaks. Moving to South America was a culmination of these other interests, though not surprisingly I still check the internet almost daily to keep up with my teams at home. I even watched the NCAA basketball championship game on TV last week. One game in 2.5 months, however, does not suffice. While working 4 days a week, trying to learn Spanish muy rapido, and traveling on some weekends keeps me reasonably busy, I need to scratch that itch. I didn’t have to look very far…

Behold, El Partido de Futból! I have always enjoyed watching soccer during important international tournaments such as the World Cup, and now I am learning to appreciate the game on a much higher level. It may not be North America’s greatest game, but it’s the world’s greatest game. Soccer is played with remarkable skill and unbelievable conditioning. Even a 1-0 game, which might be called “boring” by some, can be a beautifully played match. The beauty of the game can also be appreciated just as easily in a dusty field or abandoned lot, reminding me of how an ordinary pick-up game of basketball can become legendary to those involved. There are several games on TV each week and some of the best teams in South America play live in Santiago. I’m following the futból leagues and tournaments very closely, reading the sports page and talking about futból every chance I get. (My Spanish vocabulary may be limited to futból, but at least it’s practical). As I write, I am watching an excellent game on TV between the top two teams in Brazil: Palermos and Sao Paulo. The star player of Palermos is Jorge Valdivia, a ball handling wizard and one of the top players from Chile. Like proud fathers the Chilean broadcast team calls the game as if Valdivia is playing the entire Sao Paulo team by himself. Jorge has just scored his second goal for the 2-0 lead.

“GOÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓL!”

The world’s greatest game is much more than a sport in South America. The game inspires a sense of pride, hope, and togetherness for many people. The investment in a team is personal and very meaningful. Consequently, the fans bring drama to the game of soccer unlike any other sport. They sing, dance, chant, scream, fight, and cry with each win, loss or tie. You only need to watch one South American international match on TV to understand this. My allegiance to teams may be considered fanatical, but it’s nothing like this. Yet I find the support amazing, and I want to be a part of it. I have my eye on an international game between Chile and Bolivia, on June 14th in Buenos Aires. I will be the tall, lanky gringo in a sea of red, wrapped in a Chilean flag with a painted face, chanting with the crowd, “CHI! CHI! CHI! LE! LE! LE! CHILE!”

Fans are also every bit as passionate about professional teams as they are about supporting their national team. The Chilean professional leagues consist of dozens of teams from all regions of the country, but within the A-League there are three elite teams (all based in Santiago) that split the majority of the fan base. Colo Colo is the most popular and historically has the strongest resume, but they are having an average season and team turmoil is a top story on the nightly news. This is all made more interesting by the fact that Colo Colo fans have a bad reputation, and they seem to live up to it after a bad loss. Everyone tells me to be extremely careful at a Colo Colo game, others say don’t go at all. On the other hand, if you want to experience futból in Chile, you have to go to a Colo Colo game! Universidad Catolica is currently at the top of the league. Fans of UC are typically more affluent and less obnoxious, but no less passionate. Universidad de Chile (“La U”) is having a strong season, led by Marcelo Salas ("El Matador"), the all time leading goal scorer for the Chilean International Team. At 33, Salas has returned from an excellent pro career in Argentina (River Plate), to reunite with the Chilean club team he started with several years ago. This is special for Chilean soccer fans, not only because Salas is still in good form, but also because Chile’s best players are currently playing with elite club teams in Argentina, Brazil, and Mexico, where the money is better. (The infrastructure of professional soccer in Chile is below average). UC and La U play next week for first place in the league. All three teams are also involved in an exclusive Latin American tournament called Copa Libratadores, playing other top club teams to decide the best team in South America. This is the best time for professional futból in Chile.

Last week we attended our first futból match, a Super Classico (rivalry game) between Colo Colo and La U at Estadio Nacional, the home stadium of La U. I originally planned to go with my Chilean friend Raul, but he had to cancel because of work. Raul is a Colo Colo fan, and naturally he wants me to be a Colo Colo fan also. He recommended that still I attend the game with friends, of course using common sense and leaving all valuables at home. He also helped me pick out seats on the internet that would be “more safe” and consequently “more expensive”. The seats he recommended were $24 each, about $18 more than seats in the “Galleria”, where the fanatics are. These games have a reputation for being dangerous, so naturally I was disappointed that Raul was not able to accompany, but I was confident that he gave me sound advice. Debbie didn’t need much convincing. She loves a good party and tends to give all people the benefit of the doubt. We invited Tyler and Lindsey, a couple from Seattle who live in our building, and they invited their German friend Inga.

There was a game day buzz in the city, kind of like on a Seahawks Sunday or Apple Cup, only it seamed more like tension than excitement. Colo Colo and La U fans were all dressed up and painted up in their colors, hanging out the windows of passing busses, waving flags and shouting at one another. Police were all over the subway terminals in full riot gear. We were drinking some cocktails up in our apartment, watching some of the action from the window. We saw some really drunk teenagers in Colo Colo garb throw rocks into the subway terminal, apparently aiming for La U fans, or maybe Police officers who denied them access to the subway. We arrived near the stadium about 30 minutes before game time. The streets were rather empty and it looked like a Colo Colo parade had just moved through. As it turns out, the fans typically arrive hours before the game to rally, and they fill the stadium well before kick-off to begin the celebration. We slipped into the crumbling stadium about five minutes before kick-off. The Galleries were packed. On one end of the stadium Colo Colo fans wore all white, the color of their away jerseys (black is the home color). On the other end the home team La U fans wore all blue. These fans do not sit together on game day, probably by design. In fact, they do not even enter or exit the stadium at the same end. Our section was near the Colo Colo Gallery, but separated by a large prison-yard fence. The fans in our section were for Colo Colo, but this was a group was more relaxed, consisting of mostly fathers and sons, husbands and wives, and other sober people. The best seats in the whole stadium (near mid field) were mostly empty. These are the $40 seats, an unreasonable price for even an upper middle class person. In support for their respective team, fans at both ends of the stadium hurled synchronized chants across the field toward the other. Every person was jumping up and down, pumping their fists. It looked like a pre-battle scene from the movie Braveheart, and if not for the prison-yard fences and riot police, they would have charged. The intensity of the singing and chanting never let up for the entire game. Comparing it to an American Football game, it would be like Seahawks fans out of their seats, screaming “Lets Go Hawks” all together, while also watching every last move of the game, for the entire contest. Then add, war drums, illegal fireworks, flares, and the occasional burning flag. Colo Colo fell behind 1-0 in the first half on a goal assisted by Marcelo Salas. In the second half, fans began to lose their patience. Repeated fires broke out in the Gallery, which prompted the riot police to spray the crowd with fire extinguishers and fire hoses. La U fans grew increasingly celebratory as the second half wore on, and the team eventually held on for the win. Thanks to the fans, it was a very exciting game to watch. When the momentum of the match seemed to slow down, we could always turn to the crowd for entertainment. We all had an awesome time. For me, it was an excellent first South American soccer experience, watching a Super Classico between two of Chile’s best pro teams, and one of the greatest Chilean players of all time, “El Matador” Marcelo Salas.
After the game, Police systematically closed off the Colo Colo crowd and ushered them out of the west end of the stadium. La Fans remained at the other end for several minutes to celebrate the huge win. Following the advice of “leave early” or “leave late”, we remained in our section until the Colo Colo fans were out of the Stadium. When we exited, police allowed us to exit toward the north, probably because we were gringos. At a completo stand (sausage dogs with guacamole and tomatoes) outside the stadium, a woman advised that we continue north, away from the crowd of Colo Colo fans moving west. It was probably good advice, as we found out later from some friends who live in that part of town. Some of the fans were throwing rocks at busses that would not stop for them, and a Chilean friend of ours was robbed of his beer after a trip to the store. We saw a few hooligans causing trouble on the way home as well, but nothing too serious. We made it home safely and agreed that it would be great to catch another live game in the near future.

Being a huge sports fan allowed me to fully appreciate the opportunity to attend this game, but even for the casual sports fan this was a genuine cultural experience, complete with the pride and passion that typifies the South American people. I have discovered a love for the game of futból here in Chile, one that will follow me home in a red Chilean National team jersey. Coincidently, Major League Soccer is also coming to Quest Field in Seattle next season! I will be doing my part to show everyone what it means to be a real fan.

Santiago de Chile Photos

Here are some highlights of the city:

Mendoza

By Debbie

We had the opportunity to travel to Mendoza, Argentina for the Semana Santa (Easter) weekend. This was a spectacular trip mainly because we got to sit atop a double decker bus (much to my delight) while we made our way over the windy roads of the Andes. Mendoza is the largest wine region in Argentina if not South America. We thought it was a beautiful town that seemed more Euro than places we'd visited in both Chile and Argentina. We spent the first day walking the plazas, enjoying street performers, and taking a city tour with the highlight being the Cerro San Martin (see photos of the statue). The second day we took a Bike and Wine tour in nearby Maipu (Not to be confused with CamsPoo)30 kilometers outside of Mendoza. Maipu is rural and poor unlike the city of Mendoza. The tour consisted of renting bikes for a full day to ride to 8 different wineries. We stopped at a fancy restaurant in the middle for an included lunch. By this time we had made fiends with 2 Israelis, 2 Brits, and another American guy, along with Emily and Becky, the two Americanas we were traveling with from Santiago. We were quite the international spectacle riding down the bikepath-less road. We had a great time at the wineries tasting good Argentine wine, despite the unwelcoming locals on the road. Every time a group passed us we heard a mocking "Hello, how are you?" the only English phrase they knew. Cam was spit at by a teenage girl while while nursing a broken pedal on the side of the road, and one member of our crew was knocked off her bike by a man on a motorcycle trying to snatch her bag. We were reminded that a beautiful place can be tainted by ugly people, but also realized this ill-behaved minority exists everywhere in the world. I won't deny that I've had my fair share of annoyances with oblivious tourists, however, this seemed extreme. We didn't let it ruin our trip or fun, and I'll recommend the Bikes & Wine Tour to anyone visiting Mendoza. We chose to move to South America for a reason and here you always have to exercise awareness and common sense (For example, don't ride down a dirt road in Argentina with your bag exposed or any bag at all). In a way it added some flavor to our South American pie.

TransSantiago

By Cameron

The public transportation system is the most controversial topic in Santiago. Michelle Bachelet, the first female President of Chile who had won over the country with her progressive ideals and continued efforts to compete in the global market, has seen her approval rating drop well below 50% in the last two years for one reason: TranSantiago. For a country scarred by brutal dictatorship in the 70s and 80s (see Pinochet), and considering a steadily growing economy and vastly improved social conditions, its surprising that public transportation is the primary political concern of most Santiagans. But like any other place, people seem to be most concerned with what most obviously affects their daily lives.
TransSantiago was created to unify and streamline the public transport system, by connecting the Metro (subway) lines with established bus routes. The new system went into effect just 2 years ago. Prior to this, busses were operated by dozens of private companies. Micros (busses) and Collectivos (minibuses) literally raced around and across the entire city, picking up as many passengers as possible. Speed limits were not enforced, and buses routes were not zoned. From what I understand it was chaotic and dangerous, but cheap and time effective.
Now there are only TranSantiago busses that operate within specified zones. Busses are frequent, but going to and from areas without metro service, the crowds build faster than some busses can load them. Commuting is complicated for many passengers because they are also required to transfer between zones. Major bottlenecks occur at these transfer stations. Rides are also very uncomfortable at peak hours when it’s more common to stand than sit. Most citizens of Santiago realize the system needed an overhaul, but they are very dissatisfied with the slow transition that has resulted in larger crowds and longer wait times. At present, most people are calling for more busses and extra routes.
More than 1/3 of Chileans citizens, or 6 million people, live in Santiago. The majority take public transit everyday. Like the US, the average person in Santiago works a long day. The work day starts for most people by 8:00 AM and ends around 5 or 6 PM. Many people spend one-two hours in transit, one way. At rush hour the subways and buses are packed full, with people standing in aisles and mashed up against the doors and windows. The few available seats are usually occupied by elderly folks and pregnant women, while everyone else is left standing, pressed against one another on all sides. Metros don’t have enough handles for everyone to hold, and bus drivers maneuver through traffic like maniacs, regularly slamming on breaks, causing standing passengers to depend on one another for balance and leverage. On an 80-90 degree day, this is unbearable. (Being aware of your wallet/bag is an added stress.) At certain combination hot spots, mobs of impatient people crowd the sidewalks and metro stations. The concept of forming lines and waiting your turn is non-existent, except at popular transfer locations where TranSantiago employees are sent to regulate crowds and loading, despite being deliberately ignored by an aggressive minority.
When a train or bus arrives, people cut, crowd and push toward the doors even before the vehicle comes to a complete stop. Picture a rugby scrum with handbags, where little old ladies also hold their own by using elbows to pry through the mob at waist height. Debbie has spent at least one trip literally pressed up against the front window of a bus, with armpits and butts in her face, and I have been elbowed in the sternum by a grandma. People regularly step right in front of us when the doors open. The only way to avoid being pushed aside is to stubbornly defend your space in the crowd. In my opinion, the citizens of Santiago need to take some ownership and responsibility of their own to make the system run more smoothly, which may require some education. Simply allowing a few extra minutes of travel time and learning to wait in line would go a long way. Unfortunately, Chileans are not known for arriving early. Most are already late. This may be an unfair generalization but I feel qualified to have an opinion since 3-4 times per week Debbie and I spend 2 hours per day in transit hell.
Though still very problematic, TranSantiago will eventually be a great victory for this city. Already the streets and busses are safer and the fledgling system is slowly becoming more efficient. It is also a step in the right direction toward better air quality since busses are now subject to emissions standards. There is space and potential for better infrastructure as well, like improved roads, additional travel lanes, and additional metro lines. For now the best strategy is to avoid rush hour whenever possible, when travel is faster, cheaper, and far less crowded. By doing this you actually get a glimpse of an efficient public transit system.

A Little Taste of Home

by Debbie

Two months ago if I had walked into the supermercado and seen Safeway Select ketchup, I would have scoffed at how far the fingers of the United States can stretch. I would have turned up my nose at it and chosen one of the local brands to enhance my Chilean experience. That would have been two months ago, yesterday was a different story. It is an understatement to say the quality of food here leaves much to be desired. Simple things that shouldn´t taste bad can send your stomach into knots and pains for days. For example, what could have been a delicious veggie wrap was ruined by too much mayonnaise which made it taste uncomfortably fishy. My stomach gurgled for a good 24 hours. I find myself trying to get creative in the kitchen and put meals together I wouldn´t dream of at home, such as minestrone soup mix (dried packaged soup mix) with rice and pasta and heck throw some tomatoes and peppers in! The outcome was a disgusting, grey, golash concoction; again, sick for a day. I realize how easy it is to take for granted the comforts of home when in the United States, little things like digesting food hold a lot more merit to me now.

So, when we walked into the store with our hopes smashed of eating a decent meal, you can imagine how excited I was to see the familiar brand of Safeway Select ketchup sitting amidst the local brands which are doused with sugar. I grabbed it and hugged it to my chest and gave Cam the look that dared him to defy me this one comfort food. (I never thought I would think of ketchup as a comfort food!) We based the whole meal around what we could put the ketchup on, and it was the best hamburguesa and papas fritas I´ve ever eaten; although all I could taste was the ketchup, but I can honestly say that ketchup has never tasted so good! Kim I think I hopped on your bandwagon.

I can again look forward to meal time with the anticipation of the Safeway Select 4 Cheese Pasta sauce!

Living in Santiago by Cameron

When I first envisioned the idea of living in Chile, I pictured us somewhere in a coastal town overlooking the Pacific Ocean, a reasonable notion considering Chile has 3000 miles of coastline. I did not imagine living in the center of nearly 6 million people, and I know this to be an understatement for Debbie also. While neither of us could ever fathom living in this environment indefinitely, we are enjoying the cultural experience.
Santiago is very modern, clean and safe by South American standards. The center of the city is the most authentic and aesthetically pleasing, with cathedrals, plazas, statues, museums, and parks. Many apartment buildings can even be appreciated for the architecture. Surrounding Santiago Centro are lively barrios like Bellavista, Brasil, and Providencia, each with its own identity. To the northwest, in Las Condes the city loses it character to an increasing amount of high rise buildings, shopping malls, fast food restaurants and modern cookie-cutter architecture. We commute through this part of the city to get to work each day, but fortunately our campus is on the edge of the city in the foothills of the Andies, above the smog layer and out of the chaos. Violent crime rates are low in the city, but bag snatchers/pick pockets are a constant threat, especially in crowded areas and on the metro. It is also not a good idea to walk alone late at night. Higher poverty and crime rates exist in the outer reaches of the city. Common sense and awareness are important, but there is no need to be defensive. The majority of Chileans are very kind, trustworthy and friendly.
While the city looks modern and organized on the outside, we are often amused and sometimes frustrated by the inefficiency of a developing nation. For example, service in restaurants, organization in the work place, and behavior at metro stations and bus stops leave mush to be desired. I have heard Chile described as “the country of tomorrow” for the tendency of the people to be very relaxed about time constraints, so it seems ironic that so many people are quick to crowd, push and shove to catch the next train or bus. More on mass transport problems in a later entry…
We live in Plaza Italia on the east edge of Santiago Centro (see map where Ave O´Higgins meets the river), directly across the Rio Mopocho from Barrio Bellavista, and across the street from the west edge of Providencia. One of the busiest transfer stations in the city, Baquedano, is directly below our window. On the bottom floor of our building is the Universidad de Chile Theatre, a bakery, a Bar, a small store and of course the corner restaurant where the manager, Jose, happens to be our landlord. (We pay rent at the cash register). Around the corner there is a gym, barber shop, pharmacy, and international jazz school. Across the river there is great night life on avenue Pio Nono in bohemian Bellavista, and a ten minute walk along the river brings us to a massive outdoor fruit market called La Vega (the river is more like a gutter so it is best to not walk along its edge if you have a weak stomach). From Bellavista we can also catch the funicular up Cerro San Cristobal to the Virgin Mary statue that overlooks the entire city. On our side of the river, a long strip of trees and grass called Parque Forestal follows the river in both directions. Along this path we can walk to restaurants in Providencia, or to famous landmarks in Santiago Centro such as the Bellas Artes Museum, Mercado Central (fish market and restaurants), Catedral Metropolitana (Santiago’s most impressive Cathedral) or Plaza de Armas (artists and National History Museum).
Our apartment building has the characteristics of an old hotel and our furnished apartment on the 6th floor of the 8-story building feels a bit like a hotel suite. It is comfortable and spacious for two, with great views of Cerro San Cristobal, The Andies, and the Plaza below. Of course, it can be a bit noisy at times, especially during rush hour, though dog fights, sirens, and shouting party-goers can be seen and heard at all hours. We have a cleaning lady, named Ernetina, who tidies up for us every Thursday. There is laundry and wireless internet access on the second floor. Rent is $400 per month, a very fair price for this part of the city. Nervous friends and family members fear not, there are three separate locked doors between our space and the plaza below, and there is constant police presence in the plaza.
Chile is not a cheap place to travel, and as we have learned more recently, it also is not cheap to eat/drink out in Santiago. We are living on an upper middle class income in Chile (not saying much), but it still requires us to make sacrifices that we did not make in Seattle. Of course, we take public transportation that tends to be very chaotic, impulse buys of more than $3 don’t happen, and the definition of “I need” only lends itself to things like toothpaste and soap. We can not afford to go out much, and even cooking at home we are learning to sacrifice quality for quantity. Still cooking at home is the way to go. Grocery stores are fairly cheap, especially wine ($2 bottles support the habit). We hope a gym membership is in the cards, due to the abundance of carbs and fat in Chilean cuisine. It is rare to find a Chilean dish that does not have a generous helping of meat, bread, and dairy, yet another reason why it is best to buy fresh food to cook at home. Considering that most Chileans in the city live on 1/3 our monthly income, we should be able to afford the occasional weekend trip or night on the town. Until the first of the month we are still drawing from our meager savings accounts, so it’s difficult to say just how comfortable we are living right now. I’ll let you know after the month of April…
As it turns out, living in Santiago is the best option for traveling around Chile and abroad. We are ninety minutes from the beaches and two hours from the boarder to Argentina by bus, less by car. Like Seattle, there is access to a variety of outdoor activities such as hiking, camping, climbing, surfing, rafting, and skiing (including the legendary Portillo). The tour buses are cheap and plush, with great leg room, reclining seats and movies on board. In the last three weeks we have traveled by bus to the beach towns of El Tabo ($6, 1.5 hrs) and Pichilemu ($10, 3.5 hrs), and across The Andies to Mendoza, Argentina ($18, 7hrs with long wait at the boarder). By plane it takes less than two hours to arrive in the Lakes District/Northern Patagonia, and three hours to Buenos Aires, Argentina. There are also direct flights from Santiago to most major cities across the continent. Round trip tickets are very reasonable (though the declining value of $US in our bank accounts makes big trips less likely). We plan to continue taking short weekend trips within our monthly income budget to the beaches or mountains. We also plan to visit Buenos Aires on a long weekend, sometime before we travel north to Peru, Bolivia and Ecuador on our way home.

Here are some pictures from our apartment window and Plaza Italia below.

Weekends at the Beach

Here are some pictures from two recent trips we took to the beaches in Middle Chile. The first one was to a town called El Tabo. We went with a large group of TeachingChile amigos and experienced our first Chilean Asado (barbeque). The second was a trip to Pichilemu with just the two of us. Cam got to surf his first waves in Chile!

Profesores de Ingles

By Debbie
Now that we have been back in Santiago going on three weeks, I figure it is time for an update on the day to day life we have been living. We have been learning to adjust to “Chilean” time. We had a week of training and orientation before we began our teaching jobs. We were looking forward to this as we thought we would finally have some of our questions answered and clarification on just what exactly we were supposed to be teaching. We were wrong. Our first day of training began at 10:00 am on Monday morning, so of course we arrived 10-15 minutes early, pretty standard. We waited for about 20 minutes after 10:00 when the woman presenting showed up, however, the majority of the Duoc staff was still on holiday so no one was in the building to unlock the door. We finally entered the room at about 10:45, and actually began the training around 11:00. About 30 minutes after we had been at it, it was time for a 10 minute break, which was actually closer to 30 minutes. We “trained” for another hour and then took a 2 hour lunch; however, all the presenters were late coming back, so it was closer to 3 hours. The afternoon proceeded with another break or two. The whole week proceeded this way, with training beginning later each day, but we always ended on time at 5:00 pm. We spent more time on breaks than in actual training.
Throughout this process we also began to notice a general vagueness to our job descriptions. The presenters were Chilean English teachers who sidestepped all our direct questions such as what are our schedules, where is the curriculum, what order do we teach the material? We were continuously told we would have to ask our “Site Coordinators,” unfortunately the majority of them were still on holiday. We finally met our site coordinator on Friday (classes started the next Monday), and she told us our site had changed some things, so we wouldn’t be following the information we had learned during training, not that we had learned anything. We were getting new books, but they wouldn’t be here for another 2 weeks “mas o menos,” which in Chilean time means at least a month. When we asked what we should do in the meantime we were told to “review.” When we asked what we should review we were told vocabulary, conversations, dialogue. All the Chilean English teachers are very friendly and have told us to come to them for help and advice; however we have yet to receive a straight answer on anything. The only thing they consistently tell us is to “just relax.” I can’t count how many times I get told in a day, “Just relax Deeebeee.” It has become my new mantra. I’ll be so relaxed by the time I return to the States, I’m worried I won’t be able to function in mainstream society. So Cam and I have been “reviewing” random information some hit, some miss, with no frameworks or consistency. Our students ask us everyday when we’ll get the books, but don’t seem surprised to not have them.
I feel the need to clarify that while Duoc seems disorganized and second rate, it is actually a prestigious university here in Chile, with 5 campuses here in Santiago and others scattered around in surrounding towns. Other than the ESL content, we have both been impressed and pleased with the students and staff we are working with. We have a beautiful campus literally in the foothills of the Andes, worth the hour commute via Metro and bus amongst jam packed, wall to wall Chileans, most days. I will post pictures soon, when I feel confident my camera won’t get pick pocketed on the Metro if I take it along.

Perros

By Cameron
I have the utmost respect for the stray perros. These muts are survivors, a product of natural selection in the urban setting (see “The Lost Chronicles of Charles Darwin – Survival of the Filthiest”). They appear flee ridden and battered by the street life, but somehow the endearing qualities prevail. With the perfect combination of grit, perseverance, intelligence, and humility, these perros have adapted to life in the hood.
The idea is to stay fed at all costs, understanding of course that a desperate perro is a dead perro. Obnoxious or unruly perros do not elicit the empathy of human beings, and neither does a sickly perro. These are the likely victims of a “sweep” by the city police, whom perros recognize as a legitimate threat to their existence. Some are perro enough to stand up to the policia. It seems a foolish endeavor, though I suspect it has something to do with respect for fallen doggs. For example, on our second day in the city there was a noticeably happy perro lying under a tree in the park across from our hostel. If you walked by him, you would have thought “oh what a nice perro, I’ll give him the other half of this nasty empanada”, and deservedly so. Moments later when a police car passed through the intersection, this perro tore off after it as if too say, “Oye policia, soy el jefe!” The behavior continued each time a police vehicle passed by. Either this was a classic case of conditioning reminiscent of Pavlov’s Dogs, or he was one tough son of a…
As I get to know the city I realize that every strong perro has established turf. I see the same perros in the same places everyday, and each appears to have occupied a different niche. Some are the fortunate beneficiaries of conscientious local restaurant owners or street vendors (the perros often seen napping in the same place each day), others are garbage diggers or beggars. Though docile by day, they do not assume these roles passively. Every night we hear dog fights outside the window, as these street hounds establish and maintain the hierarchy of the hood, much like how a country dog plays with children all day or sleeps on the front stoop, only to tangle with packs of coyotes through the night. In Santiago, it is truly a “perro comer perro mundo”.
The funniest perros are the gringo watchers. They have an amazing knack for recognizing us. If gringos don’t already stand out enough in South America, the site of gringos being followed by perros will do the trick. I have heard stories about gringos adopting perros in the city, which is as simple as giving out two scraps of food per day. If lucky enough to find this type of gringo, a perro may wait outside the door day and night, and even follow the gringo to work. To exhibit loyalty, the perro may defend the gringo from Chileans, even if just for show. Fortunately we were able to witness this first hand. A couple of weeks ago, 20 of us TeachingChile gringos met Bruce Thompson, our program coordinator, to obtain Chilean ID cards. A perro had followed me and Debbie to the meeting spot early in the morning. We were eating muffins and drinking coffee while walking down the street, an easily recognizable gringo trait since Chileans rarely eat on the run. We met the rest of the group in a plaza, and the perro waited with all of us. At one point, a Chilean dressed in motorbike leathers walked through the empty plaza about 30 feet from the group. The perro went after him, barking and nipping at his legs. The guy actually had to swing his helmet at the mutt to keep him away. I turned to Debbie and said, “Are we blending?” There have numerous other incidents since where perros have latched on to us for extended walks, growling at Chileans who get too close.
We met our favorite perro last weekend on a TeachingChile weekend outing at the beach. We named him Porkrind (credit goes to Kevin). Porkrind met us when we stepped off the bus in El Tabo, and kindly escorted us to our beachfront cabanas in the pouring rain and dark. He is just a little guy (see photos), cute and clean enough to sucker the average gringo, yet tough enough to defend his BBQ pit. Patience was his virtue as he was more like a host than a beggar. When other, larger perros started to filter in, we figured little Pork-Rind would have to concede. The first fight broke out while dinner was cooking, and the initial reaction was to save little Porkrind, but within an instant he was on the back of the larger perro. Only a moment later the other perro was gone, as Porkrind wagged his tail at the BBQ pit amidst a large group of very proud gringos. This kind of behavior may not be encouraged or approved of by dog owners in the States, but here in Latin America we have come to understand the plight of the perro, where simply having an owner is every perro’s dream. Porkrind may never sleep in a human bed, wear a knitted sweater or enjoy the pleasure of watching a yuppie pick up his poo with a plastic glove, but he is king of El Tabo and we made sure he ate like one. We will miss you sweat Porkrind (sniff sniff). You stay classy.

… Flash forward one week. We learned from a friend who stayed an extra day in El Tabo that Porkrind actually belonged to the house next door. Well played Porkrind.

Argentina (final leg)

Argentina by Cameron

After the pack trip we spent a relaxing night in Puerto Natales that included an overpriced steak dinner and drinks with our friends from the trail. The following day we set out by bus for El Calafate, Argentina, to visit the famous Perito Moreno Glacier in Parque Nacional Las Glaciers. This was the second boarder crossing for Debbie and I, counting our entry into Chile, and both times it was very awkward (re-entry to Chile was no exception, either). Because we have “Student Visas”, immigration officers ask questions such as: “Where do you study?” “What do you study?” “Do you have a student ID card?” “Do you have a Chilean ID card?” “Who is your supervisor?” The officers don’t seem to slow down or articulate as well as other Spanish speakers who recognize a gringo with limited grasp of the language, like many waiters and grocery store clerks have done for us. Instead, they looked upon us with blank stares as we fumbled to form answers that would satisfy, but it’s not all that easy to explain. We are actually English teachers, not students, who receive payment by scholarship, and we do not yet have a student ID or Chilean ID. Just look at the stinkin’ Visa stamp jerk! I swear they do it for entertainment. Meanwhile, those traveling with tourist Visas only have to answer the question “Where are you going”? This is just one of the many times I have felt like a total idiot down here, but all I can do is chalk it up as a learning moment and just continue to try.
El Calafate is one-trick-pony of a town, completely economically dependent on the Perito Moreno Glacier that lies 80 km away. It’s a plastic tourist town littered with hotels and hostels, restaurants and gift shops. The only things authentically South American in the center of town are the stray perros that follow gringos around. El Calafate must be the bottleneck of the gringo trail in the Patagonia, all of whom are there to take a one day tour of the glacier. Two nights in Calafate felt like one too many, but there was good company. We were still running into many of our friends from earlier in the trip and Matt was still with us, but all where headed home, or north from Calafate to hike in the Fitz Roy mountains, Argentina’s version of Torres Del Paine.
Debbie and I have been fortunate enough to see many impressive glaciers up close by now, but the Perito Moreno is special because it is an advancing glacier that calves every few minutes. We could literally sense the stress of the glacier, and paying close attention we could predict with some accuracy where the next calving would occur based on the locations of the low grumbling in the ice. When calving occurs, you see the ice slip away from the face and an instant later you hear a startling crack. Then, when the ice hits the water it creates massive waves of displaced water. The whole event is very intense, and well worth the wait even if it takes a couple of hours to see an ice chunk the height of the whole face break away. Unfortunately, the crowds were irritatingly large until the late afternoon when a fleet of buses left the park, carrying hundreds of tourists whom we guessed must have been cruise ship passengers on an extended land excursion. Just like previous moments on the trip, I was finally able to really appreciate the wonderment of the place when I could hear it speak.
We flew south from El Calafate to Ushuaia, adjacent to Parque Nacional Tierra Del Fuego. Debbie’s bag did not arrive at the airport, which caused some temporary stress, but fortunately it arrived the next morning in time for her to enjoy our first full day. Ushuaia stakes its claim as the Fin Del Mundo (End of the World), though a smaller and more remote community of Chile called Puerto Williams is actually further south. Ushuaia has its tourist strip downtown, but the town has a great deal of character on its own and a spectacular back-drop that had us comparing it frequently to a certain funky little town we love in Southeast Alaska. We stayed at a hostel called Cruz Del Sur owned by a very helpful Italian guy called Luca. There were several interesting people staying at the hostel, from places like Ireland, Israel, Canada, Switzerland, and also Argentina. Luca gave us a recommendation for a spectacular day hike in Tierra Del Fuego, called Cerro Guanaco (see photos). Tierra del Fuego is mostly off limits to back country travel (nearly inaccessible and/or not navigable), except for this small section of the park with 30-40 km of trails. The park stretches from Argentina across the tail bone of the Andies into Chile, where most of the region is covered by huge ice fields (we were fortunate to have window seats and clear skies when flying to/from the region). Though we were only able to explore a small section by land, it was very beautiful and far less crowded than the previous two National Parks we had visited.
The following day we visited nesting colonies of Humbolt and Magellenic Penguins on Isla Martillo. The tour consisted of a 1.5 hour bus ride (mostly dirt roads) along the Beagal Channel and a half hour boat ride to the island. Our tour guide was a young kid named Pablo from Buenos Aires who was only working the tour season in Ushuaia. Remind you of anything Sitka Crew? I wondered if he lived in a bunkhouse, if he made up bs when he didn’t know the answer to a question, or if he had any laughs at our expense that night with his fellow tour guides over beers at the local bar. He did a pretty good job of managing the groups and giving information, but I could find 10 Alaska tour guides who can do it better right now ;) Obviously, walking with the penguins was incredible. We stayed on a narrow path because we needed to respect the nesting grounds, but the penguins were pretty comfortable with our presence so we would often meet them right up close (see photos). Our group was small, and food was strictly prohibited on the island so I was satisfied that our level of intrusiveness was somewhat minimal. The whole island was an ecological wonder. The natural predator of the penguins is a condor (the name escapes me) that preys on eggs and young chicks and makes regular fly-bys. Since penguins mate for life, the mother and father always work in tandem to protect the offspring. For example, if one is out fishing the other is with the nest. I could go on longer, but I’ll let the pictures do the talking.
My last night at the hostel was a rough one. I was up all night hurling until stomach acid was all I had left. Meanwhile Gavin, our Canadian buddy from the hostel, was puking all night in the bathroom next door. The next day, as both of us struggled to hold down an agua breakfast, we narrowed the culprit down to some cake we both snaked at the end of the penguin tour. How fitting it was that I ended this trip as it began, only this time I was fortunate that my food didn’t burst out the back end. Without any sleep, an empty stomach and no appetite, the flight back to Santiago was pretty brutal. Nonetheless, we were very happy to be back at the Oveja Negra Hostal, greeted by our friendly hosts Alejandra and Marcos. Good bye Patagonia and fellow wanderers. I will not forget you.

Argentina by Debbie –
I’ve decided to compile a list of the most memorable moments (some good and some bad) of our time in Argentina. So here in no particular order are the highlights of our trip.

1. Arriving in El Calafate and quickly realizing that other than the Perito Moreno Glacier, the only thing this town has going for it is the Carne Tenedor Libres (all you can eat steak houses).

2. Waiting over an hour with hoards of tourists to see the most active glacier in the world calve. It wouldn’t have surprised me if after 4 hours of waiting I was the only person to not see it. It finally took threatening to leave for the glacier to show us some action. The next 3 hours were spent wagering on what part of the glacier would go next. I believe our buddy Matt won the prize for predicting the most action.

3. Arriving at the El Calafate airport 3 hours early to save money and share a taxi with Leroy, a Navimag buddy, only to learn (after much broken Spanish and an impatient desk attendant) that our flight was delayed and we had to wait outside of the security screening because the boarding area was too small to allow more than one flight in at a time. We also couldn’t wait in the café area where the comfortable seats were unless we were going to buy something, so we ended up on hard chairs, sulking about how tired we were and our inability to entender espanol.

4. Finally arriving in Ushuaia only to find that my backpack didn’t make it and the airline didn’t know where it was in transit. Apparently the baggage tickets you receive with a tracking barcode when you check your bags mean nothing in South America.

5. Learning the airline found my bag within 24 hours, but we had to go back out to the airport to retrieve it after they told me they’d deliver it, however, it was a happy reunion and the cloud that arrived with me to Ushuaia finally lifted and I could appreciate being in el fin del mundo.

6. Meeting Luca the Italian owner of Cruz del Sur, who spoke three languages and was more than willing to pick up the phone to book a bus or tour before we could say “bueno.”

7. Eating dinner and drinking wine with other hostel residents from Canada, Israel, France, Ireland, and Sweden, and learning about the Israeli military, politics, and geography, with Israel earning a place on my list of places to visit.

8. Hiking an awesome trail in Tierra del Fuego, nursing my Torres del Paine blisters up the steep and painful climb, but deciding it was all worth it with our 360 degree view and knowing we were alto del mundo en el fin del mundo (on the top of the world at the end of the world) with our only companion a feisty fox who feasted on crumbs left from day hikers.

9. Caminando con pinguinos (walking with penguins) in their natural breeding colonies!!! My Happy Feet thirst has now been satisfied.

10. Pissing off every shop owner, waiter, and clerk we dealt with because we could never pay in exact change. Here’s a little fact for anyone planning to visit Argentina, when you take money out of the ATM you only receive large bills, however the Argentines love change. Everyone wants small bills and change, but no one is willing to part with it. They would round down to the nearest peso rather than give up their precious change. Needless to say we received lots of eye rolling and loud sighs when it came time to settle up anywhere.

11. Putting off going to the post office to receive my Fin Del Mundo passport stamp until the last day and realizing it was Sunday and therefore closed. Keep in mind this was a driving motivation for me since I read about the prospect 3 months ago. Big disappointment!

12. Waking up at 3 am our last night at Cruz del Sur to Cam bee-lining to the bathroom to puke his guts out. As conspicuous as he tried to be, our 6 other bunkmates in our dorm room couldn’t help but wake to the simultaneous retching of Cam and Gavin. It just goes to show you can never let your guard down and a piece of chocolate cake can be as dangerous as a completo at 2am.

13. Surviving our 12 hour travel day back to Santiago with a nauseous Cam, bad airport food, and almost losing Cam’s backpack switching planes in Punta Arenas, to return to our beloved Oveja Negra after a 17 day hiatus.

Reflecting not only on our time in Argentina, but our whole trip, it is apparent to me that the things that seemed negative at the time are actually some of my favorite memories. The hiccups and temporary crisis’ are the ingredients that spice up the experience and make it memorable. Cam and I have spent lots of time laughing about our stupid gringo mistakes and (mostly his) bodily functions that seemed tragic at the time. As we settle into life in Santiago, I raise my Pisco Sour and say Salud to the imperfections.

Parque Nacional Torres del Paine (third leg)

Torres Del Paine by Debbie –

I stroll along serenely, with my eyes, my shoes, my rage, forgetting everything.
~Pablo Neruda

I didn’t do my homework as well as I should have before we got to Parque Nacional Torres Del Paine. I didn’t realize it was considered one of the world’s best. I had seen pictures of the scenery and thought they were beautiful, but as we all know, the pictures never give it full justice. I knew we would be backpacking with long days of hiking, but I didn’t really stop too long to think about what we would be seeing. It is an understatement to say I was pleasantly surprised; I was amazed. I was moved. I was inspired. I understood why Pablo Neruda can move me with his words. I gained a new sense of awe and respect for God, Mother Nature, and the vastness of beauty in this world we live in.
After getting completely outfitted with camping gear from the grandmotherly hostess of Casa Cecilia, we were set for our four day/three night backpacking adventure. (I also left a good portion of the top layer of my epidermis from my forearms as this was when the sunburn hit major peeling stage. CJ you would have loved it! I spent the next four days itching and flaking inside all my long sleeve shirts!) We opted to go against the crowd rather than with them and took a catamaran ride to begin our trek at the west end of the park. The $22 catamaran ride was beautiful. I sat up on top of the boat just drooling over the massive, jagged peaks coming out of the aqua water. It really was the postcard picture you see when you see pictures of Torres Del Paine (TDP), but much more astounding when you’re at the base of it.
By this time Matt, a guy we met on the Navimag, had decided to trek with us through the park. This was a nice addition and his endless stories kept me entertained while hiking and the hours felt like, well, slightly shorter hours, but it’s always nice to have fresh stories to fill the time. We also crisscrossed paths a trio of fellow Navimagers who had met on the boat and decided to go through TDP together. This came in quite handy night 3 when Cam spilled our last pot of soup when we were famished after 11 hours of hiking, the majority of which we talked about how hungry we were and couldn’t wait to eat that evening. There was a moment where time stood still as ours eyes met over this calamity, however, our newfound friends rushed to our aide, providing us with another soup mix and Ramon and summer sausage to give it a little kick. What could have been a very tragic evening turned out to be one of the tastier ones. Thanks Martin, Stefan, and Polina! Did I mention how much I loved the Navimag ferry?
The camping part of this trip was not much to write home about. We opted for the free campgrounds rather than the Refugios (backpacking hostels, complete with hot meals and showers). However, the campsites are not regulated, so they end up a heap of tents 5 feet apart from one another. We were warned about the masses of people we would encounter on the trail and I mentally prepared myself for it, but it’s hard not to feel a sense of entitlement when you haul a pack through the trails with gear and food and the day hikers won’t step aside on the narrow trails. Not my ideal situation, however the scenery and few private moments appreciating nature completely made up for it.
My favorite part of the whole trail was our second day. After arriving at the campsite in the early afternoon, we set up our tent and headed up the Valle de Francis (French Valley). It was one of those hikes where you come to the first lookout and you think, “Wow! It just can’t get any better than this. I could turn around now and be happy.” Then you get to the next corner and you think it again and again and again. It truly did just keep getting better. It’s hard for me to put in words what it looked like, I’ll leave that part up to Cam and the pictures, but here is an excerpt from my journal that night when we got back into camp: I went on one of the best hikes of my life today. Walking away from the viewpoint was hard. I left feeling so at ease and content and at peace. It wasn’t an adrenaline rush; it was awe, awe at how incredible this planet is. To see thousands of years of glacier history carved into those peaks right before your eyes is really humbling. We’re only here for a smidgen of time compared to that, just a blink. Not much time to make the most of it. I will never forget how beautiful and inspiring that view was or how I felt today, so small yet somehow significant. I’m on the right path. This is my journey and I will make the most of it.
Day 3 was a long day. We hiked about 9 hours (mostly uphill) to our last campsite. I had blisters popping up left and right (maybe I should have gone for the Super Feet the REI shoe saleswoman was pushing on me). We arrived at our campsite around 7pm. We had just set our tent up when the Navimag trio (also the soon-to-be dinner saviors) told us about how awesome Las Torres (The Towers) was. We had planned to get up early and see them at sunrise, but it was about a 50/50 chance they would be out as most mornings were cloudy and rainy. After hearing how amazing they were and that there was a chance we wouldn’t see them, I was motivated to go up, it was only an additional 45 minutes each way and we still had about 2 hours of daylight. Cam and Matt were ready to eat that dinner we’d been talking about for the last 5 hours, but agreed it would be a tragedy to miss them, so we headed up. We caught them at sunset, and they were spectacular. Well worth the rock slide mountain we had to climb to see them. If that wasn’t enough, we still woke up at 5:30am to see them at sunrise as well. I’m happy we did it, but my legs took about a week to fully recover, but it was worth the once in a lifetime experience.
Torres Del Paine doesn’t hold that wild, rugged feeling I get when I hike in Alaska, Montana, or parts of Western Washington, like a coastal brownie could cross your path any second and you might have to make do or die decisions, but it truly is one the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen. I guess I can’t be too upset with the hoards of people that visit every year, hoping to connect with it in a similar way to my experience.

Torres Del Paine by Cameron

Geologically, I don’t think I have ever seen anything as impressive as Torres Del Paine. I find even the scientific explanation a little difficult to comprehend, and that is because I have no frame of reference for geologic time. I may go even further to say that even in geologic time, the enormity and beauty of this formation (or creation if you prefer) seems all to perfect. I say this because in my life spirituality has never been more present than in nature. No church, doctrine or social affiliations can touch it. It is only in the solitude of nature that I am able to literally climb above (or out of) my fears, look beyond the tragedies of the world, and realize that the moment is small. In this moment I acknowledge the power and perseverance of this planet, this universe, as it seemingly pauses to tell me that we sit somewhere between a single tick of its watch. In this moment I am hopeful about life, and thankful for the spiritual presence I feel here that gives all life.
Torres Del Paine has its own life. Billions of years ago, tectonic plates collided and shifted to form rifts in the earth, and magma pushed through cracks in the earth’s crust to form rocky peaks. Later, glaciers formed during an ice age, carved out massive valleys and deposited layer upon layer of rock in the process. Later still, melting glaciers exposed these valleys and striated mountain sides and displaced massive amounts of water to form streams and lakes that eventually feed into the ocean. Vegetation grew in many of the exposed areas because strong winds carried seeds from the hills below and deposited them in fine sediment, while some other plants slowly advanced up the valleys. The variety and abundance of plants increased over many generations as they adapted more favorably to the harsh living conditions of the mountain range. These events all took place in geologic time and continue to occur, realizing of course that a brief pause in geologic time may exceed our own lifetimes by millions of times. There is no doubt this happened, but because I can’t comprehend the lifetime of this mountain range, I still don’t get it…
We found ourselves reiterating these thoughts over and over on the hike. What a beautiful place it is. I would have to agree with Debbie, however, that while Torres Del Paine has vistas as stunning as anything I have ever seen, the wildness is partially lost on the hoards of hikers in the park. There won’t be any encounters with pumas, the lone large carnivore of the region, unless one opts for the whole circuit (the “W” plus maybe 50 km on the back side of the park). The overrun trails of the “W”, some of which are accessible to day hikers, are the result of a park service that fails to regulate the flow of visitors, due in major part to the fact that there are several private companies that run hostels (“Refugios”) inside the park. There is also a private company that gave us a boat ride to the trailhead for a ridiculous price. My greatest frustration with this occurred on our third hiking day (about 9hrs and 23km), when we stopped at Refugio Chileno to pick up some small additions to our last package of soup. One can of imitation Pringles, 4 granola bars, and one chocolate bar: US $22! Suffice to say I think there is something wrong with the way this park is operated, and I’ll leave it at that. Fortunately, this won’t be among the memories that last.
What an amazing trip it was, especially near the Grey Glacier, the French Valley, and The Towers (Las Torres), where we were able to find peace and solitude. These places were indescribable and I only hope the pictures are good enough to inspire others to go someday. Thank you to Matt and our other Navimag friends for making it more even more enjoyable.

Navimag (second leg)

Navimag Ferry by Cameron
For every great memory I have, the beauty of the time and place has been defined by people and the realization that moments shared can always be relived. The Navimag ferry is no exception. The four day cruise through the temperate rainforest and fjords of the Patagonian channels was unforgettable, and I am fortunate to share it with Debbie, not to mention some one of a kind riff raff from around the world. There were our bunkmates Martin and Anna from London, Dianna the American English teacher living in Buenos Aires, Martin from Ireland, Stefan from Germany, Robia from Canada, Darius from Australia, Leroy the Ford Co. worker from Detroit, Polina from Russia, and of course our good friend Matt Rose from Texas. Talk to all of them and they have one thing in common, saving money for several months at home then leaving their jobs to travel the world. No need to explain yourself, everyone here gets it. Their stories instantly gave me courage and inspiration, and reminded me that I am right where I should be right now.
The Navimag Ferry is really a cruise ship for backpackers; cheap, basic, clean, comfortable, and what you make of it. The tickets cost us $370 each, the lowest rate for C cabin passengers sleeping in bunks in the bowels of the ship. These beds were surprisingly cozy, and the C cabin was the cool place to be. The staff served 3 meals per day all at a specific time. Meal times were a blast. The food was better than anything you could make in a camping stove, and the company was great. Everyday we met somebody new at meal time. In the morning we would wake up to music playing over the intercom, that must have been titled something like Soothing Sounds of the Sea, followed by the gentle voice of our resident hostess wishing us good morning ("Passajeros, muy muy muy Buenos dias") and inviting us to breakfast.
Most of the days were spent hanging out on the decks of the ship, taking in the scenery, drinking beverages and sharing stories with other passengers. Matt had many great stories. Now 36, he has traveled every continent except Africa and Antarctica, the two he will visit after S. America. He is an engineer by profession, meaning he could always find good work and save up his money for extended travel. Though a very modest and soft spoken guy, he spoke of his travels at every chance. He traveled alone mostly, leaving his family and girlfriend at home to wonder if he was on some kind of spiritual journey, when really he was making a simple lifestyle choice that he would readily share with a willing soul. He knows Washington State almost as well as I do from a cross-country bike trip 10 years ago, where he actually stayed at a hostel in Colville (my place of birth), and time spent working as an engineer for BayLiner boats. I will most definitely be having beers with Matt someday, and hope to introduce him to my friends.
The first day of the trip was sunny and beautiful. We kicked it on the deck with our new friends for hours, soaking in the sun, taking photos and viewing the abundant sea life. The scenery reminded me of the San Juan islands but far less populated. The second day was cloudy and cool with similar terrain, an in the late afternoon we headed into rough open seas that would last into the early morning. Heeding the advice of the Navimag staff we took Dramamine to prevent seas sickness, which effectively knocked us out cold until dinner. The cafeteria was a hilarious sight at dinner, staff members had to assist passengers with their food trays as the boat rolled and crashed between swells. Several of us went back up to the lounge after dinner to see what would happen if we mixed drinks and Dramamine, but we were too drowsy to stay awake. We slept 14 hours that night, though I did manage to wake up for a beautiful sunrise the next morning (thanks to watery bowels that could not be ignored).
The third day turned rainy in the late morning but the excitement of the journey was still building. It was clear we were moving further south. The terrain was steep and rugged, waterfalls poured from the cloud covered mountains where ice fields and glaciers must have fed them, and small resilient trees somehow anchored on the shores of the rocky channels. This could be Southeast Alaska apart from wind and solid rock that prevent large trees from growing, or the lack of estuaries and river valleys that support abundant wildlife.
In the afternoon we stopped in a small native fishing community called Puerto Eden (the first sight of civilization since Puerto Mont two days earlier) where we picked up a couple of shady characters who were piss drunk on whisky before the boat had left the harbor. The people of Puerto Eden have a fascinating history but their culture has deteriorated in ways very similar to many Native North American cultures, and for many of the same reasons: colonization and exploitation, disease, substance abuse, etc. Still, 250 hearty souls and a handful people who still speak the native tongue reside in Puerto Eden, and part of the Navimag Ferry’s contract with the Chilean government requires them to bring supplies to the village.
In the evening the captain was kind enough to take a detour to the largest glacier in S. America, where the wind was ripping cold down the face of the glacier and the rain was heavy and cold. Suffice to say we can check the largest glacier in S. America off the list even though I can’t recall the name of it.
The partying started at dinner with bottles of wine uncorking at every table. This was the last night on the boat and people did not intend to let it waste. After dinner we had more drinks in the lounge and on the deck, followed by a massive game of bingo back in the cafeteria, then back to the lounge for an all night dance party. By 12am the stars were out on the deck.
The scenery and cooperating weather on the fourth day were phenomenal (huge mountains, glaciers, narrow channels, whales, etc.). Fortunately we took some great photos because I struggle to find ways to describe the scenery. I frequently thought of my friends and family back home who might be willing to take this trip, and how I might be able to convince them (Bart Olson are you listening?). We spent nearly the entire day on the deck, reluctant to even attend meal time for fear of missing something. I was ready for another day on the boat. Not making any choices is a really good feeling and I was really getting used to it. As we emerged from the channels and approached Puerto Natales, however, anticipation for the next adventure had taken over, with the mountains of Torres del Paine visible in the distance.




Navimag by Debbie

We read about the passenger ferry in the Lonely Planet and it said it was a must do for traveling South in Chile. However, when we tried to book our cabins on the higher decks they weren’t available, so we had to get beds in the “bowels of the ship.” I expected to be down in the dark where only the third class citizens dare venture. Food was included but I figured it would leave much to be desired and I didn’t have high expectations for activities on board. I figured it would be a few days of great scenery and not much else. With that said the Navimag ferry completely and pleasantly exceeded all my expectations.
To start, the mattresses in the “bowels” are by far the most comfortable I’ve slept on in South America. I spent many a night sleeping on the rocky ground in Torres Del Paine pining for the comforts of the Navimag bunks. The best part was the curtains on each bed for added privacy. I’ve never slept so good away from home as when I climbed into my cozy bed, closed the curtains, and allowed the waves to rock me to sleep. Awww, bliss!
The ship was decked out with viewing areas in the cafeteria and bar/lounge area, and the top deck was open with benches and plenty of room to walk the complete perimeter. As soon as I stepped on board I had no doubt I’d be spending the majority of my time outside despite my nagging sunburn, which at this point was not quite to the peeling stage (stay tuned for when it gets really good!). This proved to be true even on Day 3 when it pissed rain all day. Most people opted to take in the views from inside the lounge, but the window seats were crowed so Cam and I geared up and stayed outside. We virtually had the deck to ourselves, it’s not everyday you get to see the multiple cascadas (waterfalls) and mountains of the Patagonia channels, not to mention the largest glacier in South America.
We had to make minimal decisions in the four days spent on board. The guides announced everything: when to wake up, when to eat, when to come down for scheduled chats, when we should look off the port or starboard side at points of interests (whales, dolphins, sea lions!), when to buy our bingo cards from the bar, everything. They even announced when we should take the seasick pill they recommended before we headed out to the open sea. It had a semi-cult fell to it as we all swallowed simultaneously, but I’ve always been a sucker for peer pressure. I was especially thankful when they announced we should lie down as the drowsiness kicked in. I happily slept the 15 hours through the rough seas only to drag myself upstairs when they announced dinner (by this time I was programmed). Trying to eat as the cafeteria teeter-tottered and people flew about the room was a great experience, however after I watched a man throw up his Spaghetti Bolognese in the hallway as he was booking it to the side of the boat, I was convinced I would go back to bed and sleep it off before I became his retching companion on the starboard side. I lurched to my comfy bunk as Cam went to experiment with Dramamine and Pisco (he didn’t last very long!). Needless to say, after all the helpful announcements and reminders throughout our days, it was tough to start thinking for myself when we disembarked from the Navimag.
My favorite part about the scenery was the slow build-up of anticipation. Every day as we ventured further south and into the heart of the Patagonia, the scenery changed much to my excitement. The mountains got bigger and more jagged, the tree line became a distinct divide outlining the rocky peaks, and the waterfalls and glaciers became more numerous. Just when we’d be high-fiving because we’d think it couldn’t get any better, we’d turn the corner to another postcard vista. Even on our one rainy day, I could sense the ruggedness of the landscape and the isolation of the territory we navigated through. It wasn’t until we passed Puerto Eden that we started to see other fishing and cargo boats in the water. I was ready to stay on the boat for another four days, I wanted to tell the Capitan to take me all the way to Antarctica, but I didn’t know how to correctly say it in Spanish.
However, what made the Navimag experience so great was the combination of the stunning scenery and all the people we met; if we had taken the same route without the people, the experience wouldn’t have been complete. Striking up conversation on the boat was so easy and we met all kinds of people at different stages in their lives. We spent most of our time sitting on the decks taking in the views while sharing travel experiences and swapping recommendations of places to visit and treks to take. A lot of the people we met had been traveling for months and sometimes even years, covering multiple countries and even continents. It’s quite inspiring to sit down and talk with people who have made traveling a priority in their lives. I’ve often felt like I’m being selfish or irresponsible to leave a good job with benefits and a budding career and say goodbye to all my family and friends to take off for months at a time. It is nice to meet other people who have the same itch and have been able to make it work in their lives. I guess it has helped justify some of the difficult decisions I’ve had to make in the last couple of years. I feel pretty confident that this travel bug isn’t just a phase I’m going through, but one thing I learned from the people on the Navimag is that it doesn’t have to be a phase; it can be a way of life. Thanks Matt, Martin, Robia, other Martin, Anna, Dave, Rachel, Darius, Leroy, Diana, Neal, Dan, Stefan, Polina, and even the drunk native man from Puerto Eden who got locked up in the brig our last night on board! You all made my experience complete.
As people reading this can tell, Cam and I are 100% Navimag groupies. I completely and wholeheartedly recommend this trip to everyone no matter what point of life you are in, just be sure to book the C cabins!

Patagonia

After multiple attempts, we have decided it is too difficult for the two of us to write together with our differing writing styles. Therefore, for the sake of our sanity and to provide our prospective friends and families with the goods, we have decided to write separately in order to give our own perspectives of these experiences. We've broken them up into 4 different legs of the trip. Please keep in mind we have chosen to write this blog for ourselves and not for any particular audience, read at your own risk. :)

Lakes District (first leg)

The Lakes District by Cameron –
The brief two hour flight south from Santiago from Puerto Montt nearly moved me to tears. I had build up this trip in my mind for so long, that when we ascended above the Andes for the first time I just knew every expectation would be met. To the east toward the Chile-Argentina border a chain of mountains the size of Mt. Rainier dominated the horizon, and far below the expansive valleys that produce some of the finest food and wine in the world. Continuing south the spine of the Andes takes a significant dip, replaced by stand-alone conical volcanoes (including the famous and always active Volcan Villarica) surrounded by thick temperate rainforest and massive lakes.

Puerto Montt is located at the southern end of the Lakes District, only a few km north of the Northern Patagonia region. With three days to explore the land before our ship sailed from Puerto Montt we detoured northeast to Puerto Varas, a small lakeside town that serves as the gateway to Parque Nacional Vincente Perez Rosales. We spent a pleasant night at a hostel where I managed to get piss drunk with a Spaniard of questionable character, but fortunately Debbie was there to reel me back in before things got out of hand. We also met a really nice middle aged couple from the Bay area named Rachel and Dave, the alternative fuel engineers who we would cross paths with many times for the next couple weeks. The following day we pushed further east on a local transit bus to the base of Volcan Osorno on Lago Llanquihue. Ensenada is hardly a town rather a string of campgrounds and cabañas off a dirt road that follows the lakes southern shore. Following a recommendation from the hostel in Puerto Varas we landed at Tierra Sur, a beautiful family run campground with incredible views of Osorno. We rented bikes and a tent from a happy Chileno called Freddy, pitched the tent on the beach and set out on a 20km mile ride through the National Park. Freddy drew a map showing an unmarked overland route that would allow us to make a loop through the park, connecting the two park roads in the north and south. The first leg lead to the beautiful “Saldas” or waterfalls of Rio Petrohue, framed perfectly of course by the looming Osorno in the back ground. This was my first realization, however, that it would be difficult to disassociate ourselves from the train of high season tourists we would encounter throughout the trip. We paid $2 each to watch the falls before heading for the cross trail that proved every bit as inconspicuous as it looked on Freddy’s map. The trail was single track, climbing through the dense forest, then across a huge slab of volcanic rock at the base of the Volcano with open views for miles, then descending through more forest to the north road. The north road was a very steep drop back to Ensenada down the base of the Volcano. I can’t imagine a better way to experience the park than by Mt. Bike. Thank you Freddy for the great recommendation!
In the evening we had a modest feast and built a small fire. It was right about the time Debbie started to vent about her broken Spanish and inability to practice when a goofy young Chileno called Christopher invited himself to our fire accompanied his quiet girlfriend, Romina. He shared some kind of sweet tasting booze and warm Coco cola with us, and proceeded to make conversation (mostly jokes). He spoke just enough English and we spoke just enough Spanish to create cheap laughs for a couple hours.
In the half light of morning I awoke to an urgent internal alarm. I hadn’t taken two steps outside the tent before I shit my pants. If you haven’t shit your pants since you were a small child, then let me tell you it is a traumatic experience. I can’t even remember shitting my pants as a child and people who know me well know I don’t like shits and farts. Fortunately, the beach was empty and I was only 100m from the shore. Making soup the whole way, I made a dead sprint for water, wondering if Carl Lewis or Edwin Moses had ever realized the extra burst one gets while shitting their pants at a dead sprint. After a thorough rinse in the lago and a couple hours of shame, I came clean to Debbie about the incident. After a few laughs I was able to put the incident behind me, but regular bowel movements would have to wait until we boarded the Navimag (thank you Dave and Rachel for the Diarra). They say a frog’s ass is water tight, and I spent the next couple days wishing mine could be. My good friend Stephanie (“Stiffy”) York recently told me that people in the Peace Corp. say you can “never trust a fart.” Well, I don’t anymore.
After another morning swim, this time for fun with Chistopher and Romina, we bused up to the community of Petrohue on Lago Todos Los Santos, common water crossing en route to the Argentina border once traveled by Che Guevara (Motorcycle Diaries). We were there twenty minutes on a black sand beach in 75 degree heat before applying sunscreen. Two hours later we returned to camp more burnt than we would realize until morning. We treated ourselves to a pricy but worthwhile salmon dinner at a nearby restaurant (Debbie accidentally ordered a bottle of wine instead of a glass because she didn’t know how to say “glass” in Spanish), then turned in early so we could catch the early a.m. bus to Puerto Montt and meet up with the Navimag Ferry



Lakes District by Debbie –
It took a few hours after saying goodbye to my parents in Santiago for me to really get excited about our departure for Southern Chile. It was great to hang out, explore, and suffer through broken Spanish and language barriers with them. I felt they understood what Cam and I were up against when they left as well as got a good sense for this city we’ll be living in. How special to get to share that experience with them. There are certain places in Santiago I won’t be able to walk past without thinking about our Amazing Race-esque Adventure!
We left Santiago and hopped a plane to Puerto Montt. I thought I’d take a powernap to help alleviate my jetlag hangover, but couldn’t unglue my eyes from the plane window. We flew over all these perfect lagos and volcanoes and were able to pinpoint them on the map. It was a perfect aerial view of the landscape we’d been reading and researching for the last six months. It finally felt real, we were really doing it!!
Arriving at the Puerto Montt bus station after our flight was a bit overwhelming. It was a massive hub of people soliciting our business for tours, hostels, food, just about anything. We finally saw a minibus with our destination of Puerto Varas on it, the bus looked a little sketchy and I wasn’t positive it would make it out of the station, but we decided to approach. As Cam attempted to ask some important questions in broken Spanish such as how much does it cost and when are you leaving, the driver started to back out while the two young boys started yelling and motioning us to get on. Why not? We weren’t sure we were headed to the right place, but we’d figure it out eventually, we hopped on and squealed out of the bus station. Now our gringo selves assumed we’d go straight to our destination, oh no, the bus was only half full. The driver proceeded to stop by every group of people gathered on the side of the street while the two boys tired to convince them to get on board, no matter what their destination, come to figure out later this was the public bus system, no scheduled stops or departures, people just catch buses when they happen by and get on and off as it suits them. Some people would get on and ride two blocks, others got on with sacks full of groceries or other day to day items. My favorite was the man who got on with a welded coffee table frame. Just when I thought there wasn’t anymore room with all the seats full with people sitting and the aisles with people standing, the driver couldn’t possibly expect more people to fit, sure enough he would pull over for more passengers and somehow they always managed to squeeze in, it was amazing! The next objective after filling the bus over maximum capacity was to get to Puerto Varas as fast as he could so he could drop us off and do another run; this meant passing all other vehicles on the road, cars, buses, tractors, etc., on the left or right, whatever it took at mach speeds. This was truly the ride of my life, although by the third or fourth trip it became more routine as I became acclimated!
Our destination, Puerto Varas, was a cool town on Lago Llanquihue, much more laid back than what we had experienced in Santiago but quite touristy. I got the sense there were some cool local scenes and recreational opportunities off the tourist trail, but we decided only to stay for one night after overpriced food and drinks in light of spending time in a quieter beach town about an hour away.
After another bus ride (this one slightly less exciting after the shock value had worn off) we arrived on a strip of highway sparsely covered with hostels, roadside restaurants, Tenador Libres (all you can eat buffets), and mini mercados, Ensenada, our destination. We’d been told about a campground that was laid back and rented equipment at the end of the strip. When we walked into the office and after much broken Spanish, English, and some sign language, our buddy Freddy hooked us up with a rented “carpa” (tent), two bikes with helmets and water bottles, and a sweet camping site on the beach with Volcan Osorno looming over us at the edge of the lake. Freddy’s English was about as good as our Spanish, so of course the exchange took twice as long, with some minor miscommunications, but we all had some laughs and smiles (some things are universal and don’t need translation, thank goodness). After setting up our tent and high-fiving on our sweet beach location with a killer view, we set out on our bikes.
Freddy showed us a route on a map that would take us to the waterfalls inside Parque Nacional Vincente Perez Rosales. After the falls he showed us a “road” that was “possible” to take our bikes on in order to make a loop trail. Sweet, thanks Freddy! Oh wait, did you notice your “road” is a narrow dirt trail with steep hills and that we’re not extreme mountain bikers? We should have clued in with the first steep, sandy hill, but we were at the beginning of our trip and felt adventurous (hello, we were mountain biking in South America!), so of course we went for it. We ended up walking our bikes up most of the rocky hills, but the down hills were pretty adrenaline rushing with my life flashing before my eyes every time I braked on a dirt turn. (Does my travel insurance cover injuries on Freddy’s extreme mountain biking trail? I’ll have to look into that if I make it back with all limbs intact!) The one payoff was the valley of volcanic ash directly between Volcan Osorno and Volcan Calbuco that was completely secluded, I guess not many people take Freddy’s trail. Those who know my klutzy tendencies will be happy to know that I only really wrecked twice and made it out with scars on my right shin and elbow. To be honest, I’m a bit disappointed to come away with only two scars from the whole experience. I must be turning over a new leaf, well, talk to me in seven months to see if that hold true. When we arrived back at camp we had to decline the bikes for a second day as neither of us were in bike riding shape and had soar bike riding areas. A second day seemed torture; we’d take our chances with the crazy bus system.
That night we caught a decent sunset on the beach, and after eating jamon, queso, and palta (ham, cheese, and avocado) sandwiches we were ready to call it a night until a young Chilean guy named Christopher and his girlfriend Romina made themselves at home at our fire after we lent a bottle opener for their bottle of sweet Chilean lacquer. What we meant as a nice gesture turned into an evening of Spanish lessons while Christopher and Cam took turns telling jokes in Spanish. For those of you who have heard it, Cam can now translate the “Supplies” joke in Spanish, complete with gestures and animation. Christopher thought the joke was so hilarious he literally fell over laughing! We also had some of our cultural questions answered, such as the deal behind “completes” (fully loaded hotdogs), and our first tasted of the Chilean male jefe. We finally made it to bed at 2 am with promises to go swimming in the morning.
True to his word, Christopher was outside our tent at 9 am (almost immediately after Cam’s “incident” see his blog) with offers of coffee and a morning swim (a second for Cam). Later he extended invitations to his home this winter when he’s on holiday, I don’t think he’ll take no for an answer.
That afternoon we took the bus to Petrohue to see black sand beaches. We were pretty excited at the beautiful water and warm sand, enough to lie out for about 20 minutes and sufficiently burn ourselves to a crisp. I couldn’t move my arms all night and have since peeled off a complete layer of skin (not just sections). It was a typical gringo mistake, too excited at the prospect of sun and a tan after a Seattle winter; we neglected to put on sunscreen despite warnings of the strong UV rays and weak ozone. We definitely paid for it the next two weeks; in fact I’m still peeling in places. However, despite the dead layer of skin, I let the Lakes District with a glow for the people, scenery, and bueno onda (good vibes).