Every day brings something new and wonderful.
Today I walked into a protest being broken up by the police, and was full of wonder: why, after so many years of dictatorial subjugation and human rights violations, does the chilean government continue to take great pains to repress its people?
The protest was carried out by high school teachers. I don't know the politics behind it, but it sounded like they want more money for what they do. In a few words, Chile's public school system makes New York City's public school system look like Manhattan's private school system. It's sewage. These teachers gather, blow whistles and chant. The police knock them to the ground with high pressure blasts and puff them up with tear gas once they're down.
It was mayhem, and all taking place in the busiest part of town at midday. I saw an old man, 75 or older, gasping for air on his knees. I saw a woman lose track of her infant son because she was so blinded with chemicals. Ugly and sad.
And yet, I couldn't pull myself away from it. The people fight. When the cops had successfully cleared out one area, the people had already gathered in another. I kept running from spot to spot, eager to see action, blinded and coughing the whole time. I could hear the chanting continue for blocks as I walked back home.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Friday, May 15, 2009
An Overdue Update
Earlier this week, for the first time since I arrived in Santiago, it rained. It poured, actually, as if the rain had been held back for weeks by some invisible blockade that finally gave way. I stepped outside the library on campus the following afternoon to a clear blue sky and toxin-free breeze that my Chilean friends promised would come. I stood motionless in the novelty of the situation for a few moments, as one usually does when they finally, after sustained search, find that something they've been searching for.
It didn't rain the day after that, the smog re-claimed its blanket post over the city, the novelty ebbed. That's OK. School work has kept me shut up indoors anyhow. I did leave for a bit this morning, though, to buy a bus ticket to Mendoza, Argentina. That trip starts next Thursday, a holiday here. The bus ride is something like six to nine hours, depending on how long you're hung up at the border. Being a North American and thus a potential carrier of the swine flu (and the fact that I've been living in a country where there is no swine flu being entirely irrelevant) , I could be subject to a number of tests that could take a while. But from what I've heard from friends who have already made this trip, the buss must cross the Andes, and the views are worth the fare themselves. (The fare, by the way, is less than $20 dollars each direction, nearly half of what it costs me to bus from Maine to New York.)
Apart from the Mendoza trip, I've got visitors coming to Santiago in two weeks. Dad, Mom, Gena and Holly arrive in early June for a weeks stay. Needless to say that I'm on edge for their arrival. They'll get to live, if only briefly, like I've lived. They'll see what I've seen. It's an incredible feeling, and one that few exchange students hold.
But thought of their arrival stirs another feeling, and that's the feeling I get knowing that soon I'll be home. I've been responding to this feeling in discontinuous ways. Early on the semester, at times when being foreign was almost too much to bear, I dreamed of going home. I counted the days on my calendar, calculated the hours, minutes and seconds left until July. This was before I had Chilean friends, when my Spanish was shaky and my confidence low.
All that's changed now. Three months came and went, and these last two will go even faster. There's too much left to do, too little time and resources to do it. When the time comes I'll be happy to go home. I'd also be happy to stay, but I've got to get home and get situated for my senior year. What? Senior year? Reality kills. So does looking too far ahead in time, which is why I'll sign off now.
It didn't rain the day after that, the smog re-claimed its blanket post over the city, the novelty ebbed. That's OK. School work has kept me shut up indoors anyhow. I did leave for a bit this morning, though, to buy a bus ticket to Mendoza, Argentina. That trip starts next Thursday, a holiday here. The bus ride is something like six to nine hours, depending on how long you're hung up at the border. Being a North American and thus a potential carrier of the swine flu (and the fact that I've been living in a country where there is no swine flu being entirely irrelevant) , I could be subject to a number of tests that could take a while. But from what I've heard from friends who have already made this trip, the buss must cross the Andes, and the views are worth the fare themselves. (The fare, by the way, is less than $20 dollars each direction, nearly half of what it costs me to bus from Maine to New York.)
Apart from the Mendoza trip, I've got visitors coming to Santiago in two weeks. Dad, Mom, Gena and Holly arrive in early June for a weeks stay. Needless to say that I'm on edge for their arrival. They'll get to live, if only briefly, like I've lived. They'll see what I've seen. It's an incredible feeling, and one that few exchange students hold.
But thought of their arrival stirs another feeling, and that's the feeling I get knowing that soon I'll be home. I've been responding to this feeling in discontinuous ways. Early on the semester, at times when being foreign was almost too much to bear, I dreamed of going home. I counted the days on my calendar, calculated the hours, minutes and seconds left until July. This was before I had Chilean friends, when my Spanish was shaky and my confidence low.
All that's changed now. Three months came and went, and these last two will go even faster. There's too much left to do, too little time and resources to do it. When the time comes I'll be happy to go home. I'd also be happy to stay, but I've got to get home and get situated for my senior year. What? Senior year? Reality kills. So does looking too far ahead in time, which is why I'll sign off now.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Atacama
Spent the weekend in San Pedro, a tiny tourist town amidst the Atacama Desert. It was a restless weekend with activities planned from sunup to sundown. We've all had about 8 hours of sleep in the past two days. I'm tired today, but the trip was well worth the fatigue.
We woke up early on Saturday, after arriving to our hotel past midnight on Friday, around 7 am. About 15 miles away were some ancient Inca ruins, and we were going to ride to see them on bicycle. It was a sweaty ride. Rain reaches the Atacama no more than 3 times a year, and when it does rain, the evaporation rate rids of it so quickly it's as if it hadn't rained at all. The other 362 days of the year are sunny, no clouds, just sun--hot, beating sun. We had one of these sunny days. The geography was unlike anything I've ever come close to seeing before, and very hard to describe in words. Just picture mountain after mountain of hardened clay, each with rivets and grooves shaped by years and years of wind erosion. I would put up a picture, but unfortunately my camera fell out of sweatshirt pocket on the bus yesterday as we were heading to the airport. It's not lost, it's just on that bus, and i've been spending all morning talking with various people from the bus company trying to locate it. They'll have to mail it once they find it. Probably won't have any pictures for a week.
As you can imagine, San Pedro de Atacama is one of the better places in the world to see the stars. Not only is there little artificial light, but the lack of moisture in the air makes for clear atmosphere and nearly uninhibited viewing conditions. On Saturday night we took a bus out into the desert and stopped at a professional astronomer's home/lab. He gave us a tour of the sky and let us play with his 15 different telescopes, a few of which were longer and wider than me. Easy to say that those were the best skies I've ever seen. Heron Island has great skies too, but on the island parts of the sky are blocked by trees and cottages, whereas in the desert there is nothing except a 360 degree view of all that's above you.
Sunday was more touring. We went to Chile's salt flats. Picture miles and miles of nothing but clumps of salt rocks. A white carpet. Actually, the ground isn't flat at all. Chile's salt chunkys is a better name. You can reach down and break off little salt rocks to suck on. Again, will have those pictures in a week or so.
This trip was by far the best i've taken so far in Chile. In the South of Chile, the geogrpahy reminds me a lot of the US Northeast, but the North is completely unique. Very fortunate to have seen it. Could have spent another two weeks there. But alas, the University calls. Bah!
We woke up early on Saturday, after arriving to our hotel past midnight on Friday, around 7 am. About 15 miles away were some ancient Inca ruins, and we were going to ride to see them on bicycle. It was a sweaty ride. Rain reaches the Atacama no more than 3 times a year, and when it does rain, the evaporation rate rids of it so quickly it's as if it hadn't rained at all. The other 362 days of the year are sunny, no clouds, just sun--hot, beating sun. We had one of these sunny days. The geography was unlike anything I've ever come close to seeing before, and very hard to describe in words. Just picture mountain after mountain of hardened clay, each with rivets and grooves shaped by years and years of wind erosion. I would put up a picture, but unfortunately my camera fell out of sweatshirt pocket on the bus yesterday as we were heading to the airport. It's not lost, it's just on that bus, and i've been spending all morning talking with various people from the bus company trying to locate it. They'll have to mail it once they find it. Probably won't have any pictures for a week.
As you can imagine, San Pedro de Atacama is one of the better places in the world to see the stars. Not only is there little artificial light, but the lack of moisture in the air makes for clear atmosphere and nearly uninhibited viewing conditions. On Saturday night we took a bus out into the desert and stopped at a professional astronomer's home/lab. He gave us a tour of the sky and let us play with his 15 different telescopes, a few of which were longer and wider than me. Easy to say that those were the best skies I've ever seen. Heron Island has great skies too, but on the island parts of the sky are blocked by trees and cottages, whereas in the desert there is nothing except a 360 degree view of all that's above you.
Sunday was more touring. We went to Chile's salt flats. Picture miles and miles of nothing but clumps of salt rocks. A white carpet. Actually, the ground isn't flat at all. Chile's salt chunkys is a better name. You can reach down and break off little salt rocks to suck on. Again, will have those pictures in a week or so.
This trip was by far the best i've taken so far in Chile. In the South of Chile, the geogrpahy reminds me a lot of the US Northeast, but the North is completely unique. Very fortunate to have seen it. Could have spent another two weeks there. But alas, the University calls. Bah!
Friday, April 24, 2009
Just an Update
I'm due for an update. I haven't forgotten about the blog, just been ignoring it in a way. Throughout the past two weeks i've been telling myself that there's nothing to report, though to think that two weeks can pass with nothing to report is to think that a day isn't filled with events. Gripping or dull, events can be reported.
Early on I called this the "vacation semester." That title isn't apt anymore, and can be replaced simply with "semester." I've had three tests in the past two weeks. None of them were easy. All of them were essays written in class...in Spanish, of course. There's a tremendous amount of reading to be done. Always. A part of me, the student, feels a responsibility to do all the work, and do it well. But another part of me, the traveler, feels as though he shouldn't be spending all his limited time in Chile in the library. You've got to find the equilibrium. The result, though, of any decision made--whether to study or to travel--is always cognitive dissonance, a conflict between thought and action.
Well I took the tests, and I studied plenty for them. But I've also done a bit of traveling. Went hiking for last Saturday just an hour outside of Santiago. It's incredible how much cleaner the air is just an hour away. We had thought of maybe finding a small mountain to climb. Where we went, however, there are no small mountains. You need professional equipment to climb, we of course we lacked. We crossed a mountain biker who took one look at my friend Sebastian's skateboarding shoes and assured us that if we attempted to climb, we would surely die. "People die all the time up there," he said. So we settled for some minor climbing, forging our own path to a set of rocks and took a seat. In Chile, the view from any height is almost always overwhelming. One set of mountains is only the beginning of what becomes another set of mountains, and then another, and so on. When you climb a little and look out, you realize why it took the Spanish so long to find Chile. You just don't meander over the Andes, especially not on horseback carrying the makings of a civilization.
Next weekend we're off to the Atacama desert, apparently the driest in the world. It's the second organized trip with my program. We're flying this time. It's way up North. They say it's the best place for star gazing. No moisture or light. Well, no artificial light, just the light of the stars. I'll be sure to give details when I return.
It's been quiet around the apartment lately. Betty's working alone now in her grocery store. Her daughter Nicole, her only other employee, decided to move on to something else. So Betty does it alone now, working dawn til dusk 6 days a week. She comes home around nine, makes me dinner, then heads straight to bed. We haven't had a real conversation in quite some time. I feel bad for her, and somewhat guilty, as she still insists on doing EVERYTHING:cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc. Me make my own dinner? I shouldn't dare ask! Look! I made my own bed! Nope, it's not perfect, and besides, she wants to change the sheets anyways, which she does every weekend. So I let her do her thing. She never seems tired, or certainly doesn't show it if she is. She's a machine, and we expect machines to perform and hope the technical difficulties aren't too costly.
That's all for now. I hope this finds all readers well and in good health.
Ciao
Early on I called this the "vacation semester." That title isn't apt anymore, and can be replaced simply with "semester." I've had three tests in the past two weeks. None of them were easy. All of them were essays written in class...in Spanish, of course. There's a tremendous amount of reading to be done. Always. A part of me, the student, feels a responsibility to do all the work, and do it well. But another part of me, the traveler, feels as though he shouldn't be spending all his limited time in Chile in the library. You've got to find the equilibrium. The result, though, of any decision made--whether to study or to travel--is always cognitive dissonance, a conflict between thought and action.
Well I took the tests, and I studied plenty for them. But I've also done a bit of traveling. Went hiking for last Saturday just an hour outside of Santiago. It's incredible how much cleaner the air is just an hour away. We had thought of maybe finding a small mountain to climb. Where we went, however, there are no small mountains. You need professional equipment to climb, we of course we lacked. We crossed a mountain biker who took one look at my friend Sebastian's skateboarding shoes and assured us that if we attempted to climb, we would surely die. "People die all the time up there," he said. So we settled for some minor climbing, forging our own path to a set of rocks and took a seat. In Chile, the view from any height is almost always overwhelming. One set of mountains is only the beginning of what becomes another set of mountains, and then another, and so on. When you climb a little and look out, you realize why it took the Spanish so long to find Chile. You just don't meander over the Andes, especially not on horseback carrying the makings of a civilization.
Next weekend we're off to the Atacama desert, apparently the driest in the world. It's the second organized trip with my program. We're flying this time. It's way up North. They say it's the best place for star gazing. No moisture or light. Well, no artificial light, just the light of the stars. I'll be sure to give details when I return.
It's been quiet around the apartment lately. Betty's working alone now in her grocery store. Her daughter Nicole, her only other employee, decided to move on to something else. So Betty does it alone now, working dawn til dusk 6 days a week. She comes home around nine, makes me dinner, then heads straight to bed. We haven't had a real conversation in quite some time. I feel bad for her, and somewhat guilty, as she still insists on doing EVERYTHING:cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc. Me make my own dinner? I shouldn't dare ask! Look! I made my own bed! Nope, it's not perfect, and besides, she wants to change the sheets anyways, which she does every weekend. So I let her do her thing. She never seems tired, or certainly doesn't show it if she is. She's a machine, and we expect machines to perform and hope the technical difficulties aren't too costly.
That's all for now. I hope this finds all readers well and in good health.
Ciao
Sunday, April 12, 2009
ROBBERY!
Witnessed my first robbery last night. At about 1 am I'm standing with a group of friends at a bus stop in the center of town, a real popular spot where you wouldn't expect theft. My friend Katie is leaning against a lamp post, her back faced towards the road. What happens next passes in no more than fifteen seconds. A kid, no more than 15, sneaks up behind Katie with his hood up; he grabs her purse from behind and takes off running across the street into the darkness; I take one step to chase him and realize that there are about 15 other guys standing both right in front of me and across the street; I freeze and watch; they don't touch anyone else, and disperse within ten seconds; it's all over.
These thieves never work alone. Even smaller crime like snatch-and-run is highly coordinated. Many forces at work. It occurred to me after that if I had chased the thief (or "fleighte"--one who flees--as they say here) I would have at least gotten my ass kicked by the guys hanging behind, and there's a better chance than not that I would have been stabbed. Best to just let it go.
Katie lost some money, her cell phone, Chilean ID card and university ID. Not bad. All easily replaceable. No credit cards or passport. More than anything it's a shock. I was definitely scared for a minute when ten angry men were staring me in eye. But Katie and I had a laugh later on when we imagined what her assaulter would do when it came time to split her 20 bucks 15 ways.
Lesson: 1.) Think for a minute that you won't get robbed and you will. 2.) You'll get robbed in the center of town with a police officer standing less than a block away. 3.) Don't chase. Better to lose an i-pod than an eye.
About 5 kids from my program have been robbed in two months.
These thieves never work alone. Even smaller crime like snatch-and-run is highly coordinated. Many forces at work. It occurred to me after that if I had chased the thief (or "fleighte"--one who flees--as they say here) I would have at least gotten my ass kicked by the guys hanging behind, and there's a better chance than not that I would have been stabbed. Best to just let it go.
Katie lost some money, her cell phone, Chilean ID card and university ID. Not bad. All easily replaceable. No credit cards or passport. More than anything it's a shock. I was definitely scared for a minute when ten angry men were staring me in eye. But Katie and I had a laugh later on when we imagined what her assaulter would do when it came time to split her 20 bucks 15 ways.
Lesson: 1.) Think for a minute that you won't get robbed and you will. 2.) You'll get robbed in the center of town with a police officer standing less than a block away. 3.) Don't chase. Better to lose an i-pod than an eye.
About 5 kids from my program have been robbed in two months.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Holy Week and Other Things
All's quiet in Santiago this weekend as the city's residents relax and observe "Semana Santa." Most businesses have been closed since Friday. My host mother closed her little grocery store along with others. The University suspended all classes and activities after 1:00 pm on Thursday.
All the bars and clubs were open last night so people could have a really good Friday. I went out last night in need of some fresh air, having been cramped inside the apartment all day doing work. At one club, I recognized an actor who I had seen in a play the night before. We started to talk. I said "The play was funny," to which he replied "It's not a comedy." The play, an experimental piece that retells the history of Chile through abstraction and metaphor, is filled with phony passion and melodrama that I totally thought was a joke. Oops. It wasn't a comedy, just really bad. So then I said "Oh, sorry, I don't speak Spanish that well." He wasn't too offended.
Not sure what to expect tomorrow, Easter. Host mom is a catholic, but not a practicing one. There are these little wooden Christ figures all over the house, yet she never talks about faith. I imagine we'll have a large dinner of some sort. I'll spend the day writing a boring paper about melodrama in early 19th century theatre, and probably won't reflect too much on Christ's resurrection. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to resurrect myself from this deathly online procrastination.
All the bars and clubs were open last night so people could have a really good Friday. I went out last night in need of some fresh air, having been cramped inside the apartment all day doing work. At one club, I recognized an actor who I had seen in a play the night before. We started to talk. I said "The play was funny," to which he replied "It's not a comedy." The play, an experimental piece that retells the history of Chile through abstraction and metaphor, is filled with phony passion and melodrama that I totally thought was a joke. Oops. It wasn't a comedy, just really bad. So then I said "Oh, sorry, I don't speak Spanish that well." He wasn't too offended.
Not sure what to expect tomorrow, Easter. Host mom is a catholic, but not a practicing one. There are these little wooden Christ figures all over the house, yet she never talks about faith. I imagine we'll have a large dinner of some sort. I'll spend the day writing a boring paper about melodrama in early 19th century theatre, and probably won't reflect too much on Christ's resurrection. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to resurrect myself from this deathly online procrastination.
Monday, April 6, 2009
A few days in Pucon
Just got back from a long weekend in Pucon, a touristy spot about 10 hours south of Santiago. It was the first of two trips hosted by my exchange program. Twenty four of us went, including Patricio, the program director.
We got rained on most of the weekend, with only a few minutes of scattered sunshine. We couldn't climb the volcano--the most popular activity--but we had a great time nonetheless. We went rafting, as you see here in the picture. That was definitely the coolest thing. I had never been before, but now I could do it every day for the rest of my life. The picture above is one of many taken by a professional photographer throughout the day. We were separated into three groups, each one accompanied by a professional guide. We hit some huge rapids. One was so big we had to get out of the raft and let it float empty while we walked down to calmer waters.
Pucon is stuffed with volcanoes, most of them active but few of them about to blow. We couldn't climb any with the rough weather, but we did spend a few hours in hot springs. I don't really understand hot springs, but they're natural hot tubs at the base of a volcano which, I think, are heated by lava and magma flowing underground. Very relaxing...and very hot!
The other cool new thing I did was ziplining. We drove to a nearby forest to this sort of ziplining park. Once strapped in, we did about 12 different zips, from all different lengths and heights, ending back where we started. I zipped over rivers and rocks from over a hundred feet up--scary stuff, and not for those who don't like heights.
At night it poured. We had wild parties both Friday and Saturday night (we invited our ziplining tour guides to party with us on Saturday night and they ended up joining). We slept in these beautiful cabins with full kitchens, master baths and big beds--a luxury stay.
From what I've heard, the South is the loveliest part of Chile. You get the best weather in the summer, but it's also packed with tourists, and there aren't many places to stay. In the winter it just rains. If you manage to get a couple nice days, though, they say the landscape is even prettier, as everything is green and lush. I hope to explore the south more if I get some time. Pucon, ten hours to the south, is just the beginning. You could ride a bus for another 24 hours and still not even make it to Punto Arenas, which is the last hospitable region of Chile before all turns to ice.
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