Punta de lobos, Chile
Punta de lobos, Chile
After two hours of sleep (what I like to call a early morning nap) I overstuffed my possessions into my trusty-dusty backpack and put the overflow into my Entel bag-turned-carryon. After a rushed trip down the metro redline then to the train station, no wait, that was wrong, back on the metro, then the bus station, I made it onto my plane and got to sit in the emergency exit row next to a Colombian engineer who told me all the tricks of hitting on Argentine women. Cool guy. Then the wonderful, David and Keila picked me up at the airport and thus, with tired feet begins the new leg of my South American journey.
Chile, I cried when we parted but Argentina and I are getting along well.
Fotos de mi primo de Chile. Check out more stunning shots on his Flicker.
This city is littered with public art. Maybe “littered” it not quite the right word because at least I definitely appreciate it more than trash. Parks and sidewalks are filled with sculptures, large and small. There’s even a park called “Parque Escultruas” dedicated to three dimensional art. It’s like play equipment for big kids.
Photo credit: Kathleen Schatz
More gringos and curry with Gato wine.
Today I learned a new art, the making of the empanada. My host mom showed me how to fill and fold the food that no one can say no to. We took them to a family dinner at a house that reminded me of my own cousins. Like the overflowing empanadas, the house was filled with laughter and we were filled with rico rico food. As my pants grow tighter, I feel more like I live here. Definitely not because people are fat here, but because no matter where you go food gathers people together, defines delicious cultures and spans universal humanity. It is one of those mundane things that makes its way into the best of moments. That, and I really like food.
— Aldous Huxley,Brave New World
…and want to stay longer. With a charming accent from Barcelona and North Face vest he said, “You know. So you can…soak it up. Breathe.”
Meeting the nicest of people.
I think there is a place in all of our hearts for this little Irish pub in Santiago. Our friend, Alex, stayed behind from the first USAC Summer session to live here and work in this sweet place. We hit it up for Friday’s live music, and live music we had. Melodic and mystical folk jams and pub-appropriate singalongs, along with beer the best popcorn I have just about ever had. Chileans, Irish, Germans, Americans, a Jamaican and I’m sure many more different nationalities gather here for the community event of a good and hearty evening.
Photocredit: Old German Man via Nic Jantzen
Tonight my host mom called me and said I should heat up an empanada for now and my host dad would come home later and make me some dinner. It was my first time eating by myself and since no one was watching, I got really mischievous and ate my salad before dinner. Does this mean I am a cultural cheater?
Beaches of colorful glass and complex shells. Extatic as Neruda’s love for collections and gifts from the ocean, I gather as many as my hands will hold, to bring back home in exchange for the ones that I brought here. From California to Chile, Chile to California. I have become like a current, moving from country to country, bringing colorful memories and complex experances, here and there, here and there.