San Pedro de Atacama is on the border between Chile, Bolivia and Argentina, basically the middle of nowhere. San Pedro is the most deserty-desert I’ve ever seen. On parts of the drive from Calama to San Pedro, there were no plants, no cactus, no water, no anything living. Just pure red rock. We spent our first day of the trip waking up at 4:30ish and catching a flight at 6:50 to Calama. After a nap on the plane and a nap in the hotel, Hannah, Munika and I headed out to the largest open mine in the world. As Hannah pointed out their logo looks like an evil villain’s from some Disney movie, or evil corporation that’s out to make as much money as possible while meanwhile destroying the world… Oh, wait… It was kind of breath taking to see those ginormous trucks (where the wheels are larger than a six foot man) look like little Lego cars I played with when I was 5. After returning from the mine, we ate, slept, ate and slept some more.
The next morning, we headed out to San Pedro and spent the day planning the next couple of days which involved Salt Flats and flamingos, lagos altiplanicos, geysers at 6:00 in the morning with the sunrise, hot springs, the sunset over sand dunes and, of course, sandboarding. Oh there were also some ceramics tossed in there. San Pedro is a strange town. It’s where all the rich people go to see something strange. Kind of like Puerto Natales. So there are some really nice hotels and restaurants and everything has dirt roads, pitted with rocks. Luckily, it’s slightly warmer than anywhere else in Chile (except in morning and night). San Pedro is also an oasis, literally. So there are plants and living things (like lots of stray dogs) there. The first night, we went star-gazing with a silly Frenchman, who showed us Jupiter and it’s moons, Vega (which looks like its having a epileptic attack), and pointed out a few constellations to us, like the Southern Cross and Sagittarius. The next morning, a huge group of us headed out to go see the Salt Flats, flamingos and lagos altiplanicos (I don’t now what the translation for that is). It was pretty beautiful and my camera battery didn’t die! That night we made ceramics with this crazy old drunk man down the street, who then forgot to fire our ceramics. Sad panda. Fun nonetheless. Next morning we dragged ourselves out of bed at 3:30ish only to get picked up 40 minutes late by the bus company who drove us out to go see the geysers. At about 7:30 the sun reached the top of the mountains and began to spread over the geyser valley. It was a lot warmer once the sun was out. That night, we headed out to Valle de la Muerte in the Cordillera de Sal. The Cordillera de Sal looks like a bunch of dinosaur backs lined up and Valle de la Muerte is a gorgeous maze of canyons and sand dunes. To see the sunset, we hiked across one such sand dune in Valle de la Luna (which looks exactly like the Moon). And watched the sunset, which looked surprisingly like the sunrise (yay for lack of pollution!) The sky did turn a little rosy, but let’s just say this was no L.A. on-fire sky. That night we treated ourselves to Will Ferrell in “Blades of Glory,” in which Hannah and I found our song. Now I’ve had Aerosmith stuck in my head for the past week. It’s not a really happy place. The next day, we went sandboarding, which is like snowboarding only on sand dunes, so it doesn’t hurt. It was slightly windy, which prevented us from sandboarding quite as much as possible and made it possible to get sand everywhere, nuff said.
We headed back to Calama that night for an amazing sunset, some ice cream, and some more sleep and TV and were up and back the next morning to have lunch at [OH!] Salad before class. Oh, salad! How I missed you!
In other news, I’m going to try to make manjar tonight, have been café hopping around Santa Lucia and have yet to find a bad café, have begun to add es to anything that is plural (which doesn’t really work with some words,) also couldn’t tried to use solamentely as a word last night and start speaking in English without realizing it to my host family. Hmmmm…strangeness. And now back to the Spanish essay!
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Clubbin Santiago Style
The last couple weeks have involved exploring the bar scene in Santiago. So here’s a little rundown of the good, the bad and the ugly in Santiago, having only skimmed the surface.
Jazz Clubs: There are a surprising number of jazz clubs in Santiago, well, maybe not a lot. But enough. The most official jazz club in Santiago is The Club de Jazz, which is this spiffy little place down in Nuñoa. The nice thing about it is you can go and here jam sessions outside before the actual show starts, but given that winter is starting the being outside is not so hot anymore (literally). The atmosphere around the jazz club is too hip but in a way where they just don’t care about you. Not like they look down but they are just too hip to notice you. It’s also one classy joint and offers jazz for a relatively cheap price Thurs., Fri, and Saturday. The other qualified jazz club (that I’ve been to) is in Bellavista, called something like the Pereseguir. Two Fridays ago, we saw this amazing trumpeter and trombonist. They basically just rocked, but in kind of a sketchy Chilean way if you know what I mean. This jazz club fell within the preppy/yuppie hip stereotype, kind of the style that the host family I lived with last quarter would appreciate. Clean and smooth. We went to one last jazz show last week. It wasn’t exactly at a jazz club, but at a multipurpose café, the type that plays artsy movies on certain nights, has slam poetry sessions and occasional jazz shows. So it was mainly talking and sharing pitchers rather than listening to jazz. It was also the most touristy of the three, because I’ve read about it in all my guide books, and because that’s the type of crowd they seem to cater too (we, a group of about 11 loud Americans, met some Canadians there.)
Bars: Last Tuesday, Stephen’s host sister and brother took us to the opening of this bar somewhere on the border of Bellavista and Patronato. It was superhip as well. The almost unfinished industrial look with the fake crystal chandeliers, grapes and peanuts everywhere, an open dance floor, and free daquiris. What more could you ask for? Well, it was also kind of empty, being opening night and all. So we went to Bar Central, which Stephen’s sister told me was the best place around. I can verify this because we watched the bartender do tricks the rest of the time. He also made a great Caipirinha. There’s place down the street which also tries to fit within the supercool category. But their drinks are overpriced and they kept insisting on talking to us in English and offering English speaking menus, what’s up with that? Dom and I also went to a bar on Manuel Montt called Ramblas. Dom told me he had broken a table there once, so we vbought each other beers and ward off drunk men who kept coming up to talk to us. The one dive bar on that strip is Cyclo Pub, they have comfy chairs and really greasy fries. A guy there also offered to buy me a beer once in English and when I turned him down in Spanish he tried to explain to me why he had asked me to buy a drink in English and forgot the English word for beautiful. Aubrey on the other hand has found this spiffy bar/discotheque called Background. Which is actually lots of fun and pretty laidback. First half is a bar, second half is a dance floor. So we danced. Which was wonderful happy goodness.
Discotheques: Discotheques are slightly expensive here. And I feel like a lot of them can be really hit or miss. Often more miss than hit. In terms of the last couple of weeks, we hit up Subterraneo for Troy’s birthday and El Tunel for Mishan’s. Subterraneo was fun, but super high cover without the free drink. Also, it was one of those places to see and judge and be seen and judged, which puts a little bit of edge on the dancing. Sad Panda. El Tunel, per us., just kind of has a no strings attached kind of feel. And crazy dancing is done and people have good and crazy times. Co-op party music with a neon-light dance floor. Sweet! And that is the quick update on the crazy places I’ve been visiting for the past two weeks. Not much else has happened besides making cookies with my host brothers. And now back to culture and schoolwork. Oh, but first to San Pedro.
Jazz Clubs: There are a surprising number of jazz clubs in Santiago, well, maybe not a lot. But enough. The most official jazz club in Santiago is The Club de Jazz, which is this spiffy little place down in Nuñoa. The nice thing about it is you can go and here jam sessions outside before the actual show starts, but given that winter is starting the being outside is not so hot anymore (literally). The atmosphere around the jazz club is too hip but in a way where they just don’t care about you. Not like they look down but they are just too hip to notice you. It’s also one classy joint and offers jazz for a relatively cheap price Thurs., Fri, and Saturday. The other qualified jazz club (that I’ve been to) is in Bellavista, called something like the Pereseguir. Two Fridays ago, we saw this amazing trumpeter and trombonist. They basically just rocked, but in kind of a sketchy Chilean way if you know what I mean. This jazz club fell within the preppy/yuppie hip stereotype, kind of the style that the host family I lived with last quarter would appreciate. Clean and smooth. We went to one last jazz show last week. It wasn’t exactly at a jazz club, but at a multipurpose café, the type that plays artsy movies on certain nights, has slam poetry sessions and occasional jazz shows. So it was mainly talking and sharing pitchers rather than listening to jazz. It was also the most touristy of the three, because I’ve read about it in all my guide books, and because that’s the type of crowd they seem to cater too (we, a group of about 11 loud Americans, met some Canadians there.)
Bars: Last Tuesday, Stephen’s host sister and brother took us to the opening of this bar somewhere on the border of Bellavista and Patronato. It was superhip as well. The almost unfinished industrial look with the fake crystal chandeliers, grapes and peanuts everywhere, an open dance floor, and free daquiris. What more could you ask for? Well, it was also kind of empty, being opening night and all. So we went to Bar Central, which Stephen’s sister told me was the best place around. I can verify this because we watched the bartender do tricks the rest of the time. He also made a great Caipirinha. There’s place down the street which also tries to fit within the supercool category. But their drinks are overpriced and they kept insisting on talking to us in English and offering English speaking menus, what’s up with that? Dom and I also went to a bar on Manuel Montt called Ramblas. Dom told me he had broken a table there once, so we vbought each other beers and ward off drunk men who kept coming up to talk to us. The one dive bar on that strip is Cyclo Pub, they have comfy chairs and really greasy fries. A guy there also offered to buy me a beer once in English and when I turned him down in Spanish he tried to explain to me why he had asked me to buy a drink in English and forgot the English word for beautiful. Aubrey on the other hand has found this spiffy bar/discotheque called Background. Which is actually lots of fun and pretty laidback. First half is a bar, second half is a dance floor. So we danced. Which was wonderful happy goodness.
Discotheques: Discotheques are slightly expensive here. And I feel like a lot of them can be really hit or miss. Often more miss than hit. In terms of the last couple of weeks, we hit up Subterraneo for Troy’s birthday and El Tunel for Mishan’s. Subterraneo was fun, but super high cover without the free drink. Also, it was one of those places to see and judge and be seen and judged, which puts a little bit of edge on the dancing. Sad Panda. El Tunel, per us., just kind of has a no strings attached kind of feel. And crazy dancing is done and people have good and crazy times. Co-op party music with a neon-light dance floor. Sweet! And that is the quick update on the crazy places I’ve been visiting for the past two weeks. Not much else has happened besides making cookies with my host brothers. And now back to culture and schoolwork. Oh, but first to San Pedro.
Thursday, May 3, 2007
Sick and Tired Again
Keeping life updated on this blog thing is harder than I thought it would be. And right no life seems kind of hard to compartmentalize, but in terms of South American adventures…
Last weekend I went to Buenos Aires kind of on my own. And by tthat I mean, I went by myself, stayed by myself and in general tried to avoid the 15 other Stanford students there. But in a city as large as Buenos Aires with only 3 days, that’s not really hard to do. However, as soon as I got off the plane, I got sick. And I mean the WHA-BAMN type of sick where you don’t really feel like doing anything except lying there watching reruns of Alias and CSI, over and over and over…But because I’m me, and in Buenos Aires, and the hostel beds were more like pieces of felt laid over wooden boards, I decided to go out and explore a little more. I was staying in the yuppies-ville of Buenos Aires this time. They had told me that it was hip, but everyone was just trying a little to hard it seemed like. Luckily for me, there was lots of good food around, so I ate a lot. I also heard some interesting version of Argentinean jazz, but then again, whose goes to Argentina to see jazz. Spent sometime wandering, sometime shopping, watched an American movie, spent a night trying to go out with the Stanford kids, and that pretty much sums it up, except there was more beautiful architecture involved and some great people met. Oh I also saw some art, because that is what I do. However, throughout most of this my brain was swimming in a pool of mucus so everything is a little fuzzy.
When I got home, I had class, but decided not to go and spent the majority of the next two days trying to get in touch with every single family member and chat for a short period of time. Sometimes it’s hard to get all sides of the stories. People are so selective with what they tell you. Really, what’s up with that?
Oh, I also got to go to a party with my host family, which rocked. It’s nice because all the kids and all the parents were there and I just got to kind of space out and listen, which was really all I could contribute because they talk really really fast. And then last night, my host dad and I made plans to go teach at his interpreter school, which will be fun and strange. He also offered me a place to stay if I ever decide to come back and study in Chile, “of course, after you finish university and then, Boston,” which is incentive enough to come back to Santiago for another stretch of an unbelievably long time period.
Okay, yay for rambling, glad I got the vague update done. Maybe next week it will be better.
Last weekend I went to Buenos Aires kind of on my own. And by tthat I mean, I went by myself, stayed by myself and in general tried to avoid the 15 other Stanford students there. But in a city as large as Buenos Aires with only 3 days, that’s not really hard to do. However, as soon as I got off the plane, I got sick. And I mean the WHA-BAMN type of sick where you don’t really feel like doing anything except lying there watching reruns of Alias and CSI, over and over and over…But because I’m me, and in Buenos Aires, and the hostel beds were more like pieces of felt laid over wooden boards, I decided to go out and explore a little more. I was staying in the yuppies-ville of Buenos Aires this time. They had told me that it was hip, but everyone was just trying a little to hard it seemed like. Luckily for me, there was lots of good food around, so I ate a lot. I also heard some interesting version of Argentinean jazz, but then again, whose goes to Argentina to see jazz. Spent sometime wandering, sometime shopping, watched an American movie, spent a night trying to go out with the Stanford kids, and that pretty much sums it up, except there was more beautiful architecture involved and some great people met. Oh I also saw some art, because that is what I do. However, throughout most of this my brain was swimming in a pool of mucus so everything is a little fuzzy.
When I got home, I had class, but decided not to go and spent the majority of the next two days trying to get in touch with every single family member and chat for a short period of time. Sometimes it’s hard to get all sides of the stories. People are so selective with what they tell you. Really, what’s up with that?
Oh, I also got to go to a party with my host family, which rocked. It’s nice because all the kids and all the parents were there and I just got to kind of space out and listen, which was really all I could contribute because they talk really really fast. And then last night, my host dad and I made plans to go teach at his interpreter school, which will be fun and strange. He also offered me a place to stay if I ever decide to come back and study in Chile, “of course, after you finish university and then, Boston,” which is incentive enough to come back to Santiago for another stretch of an unbelievably long time period.
Okay, yay for rambling, glad I got the vague update done. Maybe next week it will be better.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
And the Bings!
After my parents left, I slept and have been slowly reinserting myself into Stanford life in the past week. And to the Chilean-ness. Waking up after my feverish stupor, I wrote and wrote and wrote for Spanish and then went to a giant festival concert with Aubrey and Kevin. We saw Low Bunkers, Jorge Gonzalez, Dividios and I caught the beginning of Los Tres before deciding to head home again (if you want to check out some Latino rock groups). Keane was also headlining the festival, which was aptly named ¡Vivo Latino! because the UK is part of Latin America too.
On a side note, I was so excited to discover Los Bunkers when I was looking at a mix that my daddy had brought me and he had put Los Bunkers on the playlist. Sad panda moment for Julia.
Not a lot happened last week aside from a classical concert, a yoga class and my thesis proposal. Oh and I got my ear pierced, again, but in a different place. Then on Friday, we were all flown to La Serena for the weekend, courtesy of the Bings. La Serena is a 50 minute plane ride and a 5 hour bus ride north of Santiago and is known as the beach town where all the beautiful Argentineans from Mendoza go. Inland from La Serena is Valle de Elqui, where a whole bunch of hippies, crazies and astronomers live. Fabia went a little New Age-y on us and started preaching about auras and the flow of our spirits and all such happy-goodness but she calmed down once we left the Valle and the energies didn’t effect her as much. Per usual, the Bings kept us well fed. There was lots of food and per usual, lots of Stanford students complained about every minute of the trip, while the Bings provided free transportation and sustenance wherever we were. I’m glad people realize how many resources and opportunities they have.
I’m also glad I’m not the Bings (really, really glad). But I’m also really, really glad the Bings are around to take me to crazy places. In any case, I gave myself a day off of Stanford on Sunday and took off, first walking down the beach in La Serena. I decided that there were no waves so went off in search of some. Bummed a ride to the bus station and then to Coquimbo, the smaller port town next to La Serena, it’s like Viña and Valpariso. In any case, Coquimbo was amazing, and filled with stray dogs, but still gorgeous, there were pelicans everywhere and the people were so friendly. Had an empanada at the fish market with these hilarious women who worked there (though still not as good as Picheliemu) and then caught the bus to Totorallilo. I had been told that Totorallilo was a beachtown where I could get a board and had good waves that broke in both directions. However, when the bus let me off on the highway off ramp. I realized that Totorallilo was a little smaller than a beach town. It was more like a cluster of beach houses, with a manmade beach island down in the water, which was so blue and green against the yellow, golden-y landscape of the desert that crept up to the water. The ocean was also as flat as a soda that’s been open for three days so no matter if there was a board the surfing was out. I decided the manmade beach was also not a legit place to lounge so I crawled over some rocks to find one large and isolated enough to feel private and then I read and watched the ocean.
When it was time to leave, I headed back to the highway on ramp and waited and waited for a bus to stop. One eventually did and I headed back home to La Serena, showered, talked to my sorority girl roomy (only for the weekend) and spaced out for three or four hours, tried to cheer up a friend by searching for karaoke but ended up teaching a “bartender” how to make White Russians and Tom Collins (we realized when we saw everyone drinking Brahma or Coke that we were in the wrong place for these kind of drinks but it was too late by then). And slept.
Today, I got back to school and am finally ready for the quarter to start. Got home around 6,30 and played with my host brothers. And now it is time to get back to the crazy work. I’m back off to Buenos Aires this weekend and that should be so relaxing and wonderful.
On a side note, I was so excited to discover Los Bunkers when I was looking at a mix that my daddy had brought me and he had put Los Bunkers on the playlist. Sad panda moment for Julia.
Not a lot happened last week aside from a classical concert, a yoga class and my thesis proposal. Oh and I got my ear pierced, again, but in a different place. Then on Friday, we were all flown to La Serena for the weekend, courtesy of the Bings. La Serena is a 50 minute plane ride and a 5 hour bus ride north of Santiago and is known as the beach town where all the beautiful Argentineans from Mendoza go. Inland from La Serena is Valle de Elqui, where a whole bunch of hippies, crazies and astronomers live. Fabia went a little New Age-y on us and started preaching about auras and the flow of our spirits and all such happy-goodness but she calmed down once we left the Valle and the energies didn’t effect her as much. Per usual, the Bings kept us well fed. There was lots of food and per usual, lots of Stanford students complained about every minute of the trip, while the Bings provided free transportation and sustenance wherever we were. I’m glad people realize how many resources and opportunities they have.
I’m also glad I’m not the Bings (really, really glad). But I’m also really, really glad the Bings are around to take me to crazy places. In any case, I gave myself a day off of Stanford on Sunday and took off, first walking down the beach in La Serena. I decided that there were no waves so went off in search of some. Bummed a ride to the bus station and then to Coquimbo, the smaller port town next to La Serena, it’s like Viña and Valpariso. In any case, Coquimbo was amazing, and filled with stray dogs, but still gorgeous, there were pelicans everywhere and the people were so friendly. Had an empanada at the fish market with these hilarious women who worked there (though still not as good as Picheliemu) and then caught the bus to Totorallilo. I had been told that Totorallilo was a beachtown where I could get a board and had good waves that broke in both directions. However, when the bus let me off on the highway off ramp. I realized that Totorallilo was a little smaller than a beach town. It was more like a cluster of beach houses, with a manmade beach island down in the water, which was so blue and green against the yellow, golden-y landscape of the desert that crept up to the water. The ocean was also as flat as a soda that’s been open for three days so no matter if there was a board the surfing was out. I decided the manmade beach was also not a legit place to lounge so I crawled over some rocks to find one large and isolated enough to feel private and then I read and watched the ocean.
When it was time to leave, I headed back to the highway on ramp and waited and waited for a bus to stop. One eventually did and I headed back home to La Serena, showered, talked to my sorority girl roomy (only for the weekend) and spaced out for three or four hours, tried to cheer up a friend by searching for karaoke but ended up teaching a “bartender” how to make White Russians and Tom Collins (we realized when we saw everyone drinking Brahma or Coke that we were in the wrong place for these kind of drinks but it was too late by then). And slept.
Today, I got back to school and am finally ready for the quarter to start. Got home around 6,30 and played with my host brothers. And now it is time to get back to the crazy work. I’m back off to Buenos Aires this weekend and that should be so relaxing and wonderful.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Ahhhh, I'm back...
Ahhh! Time has been seeming to go by so quickly. Mainly I’ve been freaking out about what to do when my family comes and about writing my thesis proposal. But I guess in terms of all things foreign, stuff down in Santiago has been a little bit crazy of late as well. This past week there were two protests filled with tear gas and protesting youth. The first was about… well it was a day of commemoration for these two kids who got brutally killed by the cops in 1985 for being communist. But, as my waiter that night described to me, some people commemorated and some people abused. As in, stuff was destroyed, cops were beaten, and tear gas was sprayed, streets were shut down, businesses closed at three in the afternoon and everyone went home. The second was a Pinguinos revival. The Pinguinos are the high school students here in Santiago who were black jumpers and white oxford shirts and travel everywhere in groups and therefore look like penguins, duh. In any case, last year they protested against the public education system by locking themselves inside the schools, surviving off of substance provided by parents and teachers, and demanded better education for the students, which the government agreed to. This year, the Pinguinos, like everyone in Santiago, decided to protest TranSantiago, so they all skipped school for the day and marched down some street that Fabia warned us all not to go to because it was being doused in tear gas and torn apart by enraged fourteen year olds. Okay not really, but kind of. In any case, it makes a better story this way. Aside from these two days, in which the entire city kind of shut down, Santiago has been like Santiago always is. Only it seems more smoggy.
In terms of Stanford, the new kids seem very different. But that may just be my second-quarter perspective looking back on how I felt at the beginning of last quarter and all that happy-goodness. It’ll be interesting to see how things play out. I’ve been trying to get Stephen Funk (and his middle name is Eagle!) to give me his opinions on everyone, but he has been holding out for a while. And our discussions instead revolve around what would happen if the blue parts of the US secede from the red and deciding that, despite all, this could never be feasible. Things are also different this quarter in terms of Stanford in that the Bings have decided to give us all our special treats early on. First we had the Bing dinner (so much better than last quarter!) and then we had Cole Porter Jazz by a bunch of eighty-somethings who were from New Zealand and just really enjoyed Cole Porter. And then we all got to go to Isla Negra (where Pablo Neruda had his favorite house) and have lunch and a poetry reading. And then next week we go to La Serena, the number one city to live in in Chile. I feel like I’m going to OD on Bing gluttony.
Which has only been supplemented by the visit from the family. So much foodie goodness! And family time! Yay! No one can do the floss dance quite like my father, or charm any Spanish-speaking person quite like my mother, or pretend I’m deaf, blind and dumb quite like my sister (Rock on Helen Keller!). Sadly, as I realized when they were leaving, I didn’t spend quite as much time with them as I should have. Stupid school.
And today I will spend writing my Spanish essay and doing my Spanish homework and listening to Spanish music, or Latin American music and Keane (what is Keane doing here). Oh what also happened in the past two weeks was a game of ultimate with some crazy Chileans (most of them are), a giant mass in Plaza Italia with Los Javias (yay!), and some awesome times with the host family, and lots of work on my thesis proposal, but more on that later. Okay, that’s that for now.
In terms of Stanford, the new kids seem very different. But that may just be my second-quarter perspective looking back on how I felt at the beginning of last quarter and all that happy-goodness. It’ll be interesting to see how things play out. I’ve been trying to get Stephen Funk (and his middle name is Eagle!) to give me his opinions on everyone, but he has been holding out for a while. And our discussions instead revolve around what would happen if the blue parts of the US secede from the red and deciding that, despite all, this could never be feasible. Things are also different this quarter in terms of Stanford in that the Bings have decided to give us all our special treats early on. First we had the Bing dinner (so much better than last quarter!) and then we had Cole Porter Jazz by a bunch of eighty-somethings who were from New Zealand and just really enjoyed Cole Porter. And then we all got to go to Isla Negra (where Pablo Neruda had his favorite house) and have lunch and a poetry reading. And then next week we go to La Serena, the number one city to live in in Chile. I feel like I’m going to OD on Bing gluttony.
Which has only been supplemented by the visit from the family. So much foodie goodness! And family time! Yay! No one can do the floss dance quite like my father, or charm any Spanish-speaking person quite like my mother, or pretend I’m deaf, blind and dumb quite like my sister (Rock on Helen Keller!). Sadly, as I realized when they were leaving, I didn’t spend quite as much time with them as I should have. Stupid school.
And today I will spend writing my Spanish essay and doing my Spanish homework and listening to Spanish music, or Latin American music and Keane (what is Keane doing here). Oh what also happened in the past two weeks was a game of ultimate with some crazy Chileans (most of them are), a giant mass in Plaza Italia with Los Javias (yay!), and some awesome times with the host family, and lots of work on my thesis proposal, but more on that later. Okay, that’s that for now.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Team Super Awesome wins again
Torres del Paine is the most intense landscape that I have ever seen. If you had to compare it something, I guess you could say it’s like walking through Lord of Rings only ten times more beautiful. To start at the beginning, I dropped my stuff off at my new host family’s house. I had an interesting chat with the cabbie about music, he like folk music or more specifically “La Nueva Canción Chilena,” which is all that war protest-y Bob Dylan/Joan Baez-y sounding stuff. Shortly after dropping my stuff off I ran into my host mom (the old one) in the metro station (this is going to get confusing) and we had a nice chat. Then I headed down to Kara’s house and we caught TransVip (pronounced VEEP!) to the airport where we caught a plane to Punta Arenas, a bus to Puerto Natales and another bus to the actual park and then a boat to the beginning of the hike. There was much moding of transportation. Okay, backtrack time.
Puerto Natales feels like its in the end of the world. The wind races through the town, the streets are smaller and the ouses huddle up next to each other like they’re trying to share body heat. Our hostel owner was this funny lady with her funny poodle and their funny family . They rented us all our equipment and told us how we should hike Torres. (for clarification: there are two main trails in Torres: the circuit and the W. We were hiking the W, which looks surprising like a W if you were a condor.) Shortly thereafter, we met a roommate of Micah’s who had hiked the circuit in 5 days when the recommended amount is ten. Aside from being superintense about hiking, she recommended a superintense pizza place where we met the first of many British men who had been laid off and decided to come on holiday in South America. After dinner, we prepared to set off at 7:10 the next morning by making hot chocolate and packing. We had breakfast with some guys from Fargo and Texas the next morning and then hopped on the bus to the park.
Seeing Torres for the first time, it looked like it had blasted up out of the ground: this ginormos rocky formation surrounded by a sea of hills. In other words, it dominated. We had a little bit of trouble deciding whether to go see the Torres on our first day or not as they were only slightly covered by clouds. But we decided to take our chances. Therefore our basic itinerary is as follows:
Day 1: bus to boat to glacier to campsite. Day 2: campsite (lake location) to campsite (crazy parkguards location) to Curnos to campsite (same crazy parkguards). Day 3: campsite (CPG) to campsite (Torres base) Day 4: torres!! Day 5: relaxation and basic inability to move.
People we met: Dominic! (crazy German LARPer), the hot Irish guy, the two Welsh girls, the crazy park guards, the crazy Israelis!, the nice campsite guy with no teeth, and one of the TAs from my freshman year geo class. A good time was had by all, but I think that in the end, we decided that there were too many potatoes and not enough pita bread.
In Santiago, it’s easy to forget how much the world rocks. But Torres was the most real and unreal experience I think I have ever had. It was hard to imagine that such a place exists and that you can actually go there and be in it. I’d never dreamt of so many stars or ice so blue or rivers that were that huge or towers that high and mountains so massive. I don’t know, I can’t describe it. All I can say is buy your plane ticket now.
Puerto Natales feels like its in the end of the world. The wind races through the town, the streets are smaller and the ouses huddle up next to each other like they’re trying to share body heat. Our hostel owner was this funny lady with her funny poodle and their funny family . They rented us all our equipment and told us how we should hike Torres. (for clarification: there are two main trails in Torres: the circuit and the W. We were hiking the W, which looks surprising like a W if you were a condor.) Shortly thereafter, we met a roommate of Micah’s who had hiked the circuit in 5 days when the recommended amount is ten. Aside from being superintense about hiking, she recommended a superintense pizza place where we met the first of many British men who had been laid off and decided to come on holiday in South America. After dinner, we prepared to set off at 7:10 the next morning by making hot chocolate and packing. We had breakfast with some guys from Fargo and Texas the next morning and then hopped on the bus to the park.
Seeing Torres for the first time, it looked like it had blasted up out of the ground: this ginormos rocky formation surrounded by a sea of hills. In other words, it dominated. We had a little bit of trouble deciding whether to go see the Torres on our first day or not as they were only slightly covered by clouds. But we decided to take our chances. Therefore our basic itinerary is as follows:
Day 1: bus to boat to glacier to campsite. Day 2: campsite (lake location) to campsite (crazy parkguards location) to Curnos to campsite (same crazy parkguards). Day 3: campsite (CPG) to campsite (Torres base) Day 4: torres!! Day 5: relaxation and basic inability to move.
People we met: Dominic! (crazy German LARPer), the hot Irish guy, the two Welsh girls, the crazy park guards, the crazy Israelis!, the nice campsite guy with no teeth, and one of the TAs from my freshman year geo class. A good time was had by all, but I think that in the end, we decided that there were too many potatoes and not enough pita bread.
In Santiago, it’s easy to forget how much the world rocks. But Torres was the most real and unreal experience I think I have ever had. It was hard to imagine that such a place exists and that you can actually go there and be in it. I’d never dreamt of so many stars or ice so blue or rivers that were that huge or towers that high and mountains so massive. I don’t know, I can’t describe it. All I can say is buy your plane ticket now.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
What is the most important thing you have learned studying abroad?
1) When life goes nuts!, go nuts 7 nuts! or splurge on peanut butter.
a. With the advent of TranSantiago, a plethora of nut stands have sprung up around metro stops, encouraging you to take it one step further than Nuts4Nuts! Nuts5Nuts! And Nuts7Nuts! have also been discovered. There have also been rumors of a Nuts11Nuts! sighting.
b. There is peanut butter in Santiago!!! It’s just really exspensive and they hate it. They think it makes them fat, but with the abundance of helado in this place and the amount of sugar they pour in their coffee, it’s amazing they don’t also dive right in to the mani mantequilla. Somethings I will never understand.
2) Almuerzo is not just a meal.
a. Almuerzo is a lifestyle. It’s an all day affair, it’s a whole family event, with your host mom dreaming about Pisco Sours and your host sisters returning after advertising a car dealership, spicy salsa, more meat than you dreamed of along with some of the freshest veggies ever, right in the middle of the hottest part of the day, and you’re inside with air conditioning and Metallica playing in the background and Chileans inviting you on weekend trips with them left and right (¡que rico!). And after you actually eat almuerzo your expected to lie around on the couch and do absolutely nothing, for at least a half-an-hour.
3) Saint Patrick is not important in Chile.
a. And I thought they were a Catholic country. In any case, we ended up celebrating Saint Patrick’s day in a German restaurant drinking Chilean beer (mmm Kunstmann), because the only Irish pub in Santaigo had a line. This was after we spent the entire afternoon in Ameri-land designing the most amazing coat of arms ever! rather than studying for our poli sci final, the night after dancing like crazy people on the edge of Santiago and eating in a rotating restaurant.
4) If you are blond, you are not from Santiago and you probably speak English.
a. This is common knowledge. Sadly, if you are blond and trying to blend in, you are a lost cause. This is also true of most Asian people (except for the speaking English part). This is actually true of anyone who does not look Chilean, but then again, that’s pretty self-explanatory.
OMG!!! So pumped for Torres and life right now! That is all. And off I go!
1) When life goes nuts!, go nuts 7 nuts! or splurge on peanut butter.
a. With the advent of TranSantiago, a plethora of nut stands have sprung up around metro stops, encouraging you to take it one step further than Nuts4Nuts! Nuts5Nuts! And Nuts7Nuts! have also been discovered. There have also been rumors of a Nuts11Nuts! sighting.
b. There is peanut butter in Santiago!!! It’s just really exspensive and they hate it. They think it makes them fat, but with the abundance of helado in this place and the amount of sugar they pour in their coffee, it’s amazing they don’t also dive right in to the mani mantequilla. Somethings I will never understand.
2) Almuerzo is not just a meal.
a. Almuerzo is a lifestyle. It’s an all day affair, it’s a whole family event, with your host mom dreaming about Pisco Sours and your host sisters returning after advertising a car dealership, spicy salsa, more meat than you dreamed of along with some of the freshest veggies ever, right in the middle of the hottest part of the day, and you’re inside with air conditioning and Metallica playing in the background and Chileans inviting you on weekend trips with them left and right (¡que rico!). And after you actually eat almuerzo your expected to lie around on the couch and do absolutely nothing, for at least a half-an-hour.
3) Saint Patrick is not important in Chile.
a. And I thought they were a Catholic country. In any case, we ended up celebrating Saint Patrick’s day in a German restaurant drinking Chilean beer (mmm Kunstmann), because the only Irish pub in Santaigo had a line. This was after we spent the entire afternoon in Ameri-land designing the most amazing coat of arms ever! rather than studying for our poli sci final, the night after dancing like crazy people on the edge of Santiago and eating in a rotating restaurant.
4) If you are blond, you are not from Santiago and you probably speak English.
a. This is common knowledge. Sadly, if you are blond and trying to blend in, you are a lost cause. This is also true of most Asian people (except for the speaking English part). This is actually true of anyone who does not look Chilean, but then again, that’s pretty self-explanatory.
OMG!!! So pumped for Torres and life right now! That is all. And off I go!
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Plantastic!
Phrase of the week: festivally plump
This week was a week spent planning.
Chilean Universities: Monday, Fabia sent the five of us who are staying an email saying that she had gone to pick up our orientation packets from U de Chile, which consisted of a messenger bag and a book full of classes like “Social Memory, Official History: Conflicts in Chile.” Aubrey and I went to talk to the lady in charge of the U de Chile branch of foreign students, and all she basically said was go ask the prof if we could sit in on classes. So on Thursday, we went to classes, both of which were filled with gringos. Because we were slightly disappointed, we both decided to go to a class next Tuesday together, and I think I’m going to stop in at a couple others. I intended to go to one on Friday (only for this Friday) but was scared off by all the Chileans there. There are also some classes at the U Catolica that sound interesting, so I have to go talk to those folk as well.
Community Service: Tuesday, I tried to find my community service interview. So I took the metro out to where they told me to take a collectivo (a cheaper form of taxi) to where I needed to go. Since I couldn’t find the collectivo, I took a taxi. The taxi driver thought that I was lost so took me to a street and a hostel in Barrio Brasil that I did not tell him to take me to. I went back to Fabia, tired of trying to make this stupid community service thing work. But then I talked to Kara and her community service boss and now will be talking to women at an old folks home close to Palacio Cousiño, if you wanted to orient yourself.
Host Family: rocks. They are really, really great and very different than the host family I am living with now. There are two little boys who are absolutely adorable. The mom is really sweet and knows all the right questions to ask and the dad (who wasn’t there for most of the time that I was) is also really sweet and they are going to make life very easy and family oriented for me next quarter. Which at this point is kind of what I need. I miss home and Wednesday morning coffee.
Bing dinner: Was a preparation for saying goodbye and looking forward to new people coming in some ways. There were also strip dancers and professors. To say the least, it was a little awkward. Fabia found this Cuban dance place for Susie Cashion, the visiting prof. The show include with dinner had girls in thongs and men in sparkly athletic wear. Sad panda. We all embraced the awkward together, clothed.
This weekend was not planning but generally awesome with jazz, wine and cheese, a visit to Villa Gremaldi and climbing a cerro with Kara and her host dad (whose like a mountain goat! and generally awesome), a failed flourless chocolate cake, violence in the Spanish civil war (go rebels and good computer graphics!) lots of food and very little work. So now I will go back to writing my essay. Oh, and I got my grant and can look forward to living in SF for sure this summer. Yay me!
This week was a week spent planning.
Chilean Universities: Monday, Fabia sent the five of us who are staying an email saying that she had gone to pick up our orientation packets from U de Chile, which consisted of a messenger bag and a book full of classes like “Social Memory, Official History: Conflicts in Chile.” Aubrey and I went to talk to the lady in charge of the U de Chile branch of foreign students, and all she basically said was go ask the prof if we could sit in on classes. So on Thursday, we went to classes, both of which were filled with gringos. Because we were slightly disappointed, we both decided to go to a class next Tuesday together, and I think I’m going to stop in at a couple others. I intended to go to one on Friday (only for this Friday) but was scared off by all the Chileans there. There are also some classes at the U Catolica that sound interesting, so I have to go talk to those folk as well.
Community Service: Tuesday, I tried to find my community service interview. So I took the metro out to where they told me to take a collectivo (a cheaper form of taxi) to where I needed to go. Since I couldn’t find the collectivo, I took a taxi. The taxi driver thought that I was lost so took me to a street and a hostel in Barrio Brasil that I did not tell him to take me to. I went back to Fabia, tired of trying to make this stupid community service thing work. But then I talked to Kara and her community service boss and now will be talking to women at an old folks home close to Palacio Cousiño, if you wanted to orient yourself.
Host Family: rocks. They are really, really great and very different than the host family I am living with now. There are two little boys who are absolutely adorable. The mom is really sweet and knows all the right questions to ask and the dad (who wasn’t there for most of the time that I was) is also really sweet and they are going to make life very easy and family oriented for me next quarter. Which at this point is kind of what I need. I miss home and Wednesday morning coffee.
Bing dinner: Was a preparation for saying goodbye and looking forward to new people coming in some ways. There were also strip dancers and professors. To say the least, it was a little awkward. Fabia found this Cuban dance place for Susie Cashion, the visiting prof. The show include with dinner had girls in thongs and men in sparkly athletic wear. Sad panda. We all embraced the awkward together, clothed.
This weekend was not planning but generally awesome with jazz, wine and cheese, a visit to Villa Gremaldi and climbing a cerro with Kara and her host dad (whose like a mountain goat! and generally awesome), a failed flourless chocolate cake, violence in the Spanish civil war (go rebels and good computer graphics!) lots of food and very little work. So now I will go back to writing my essay. Oh, and I got my grant and can look forward to living in SF for sure this summer. Yay me!
Tuesday, March 6, 2007
CHILOE!!!
Castro is not just a district in San Francisco covered with rainbow colored flags. Castro is also a town on the island of Chiloe covered in houses on stilts. Chiloe is an island in Chile that originally was a stronghold of the Mapuches, but I think that the Spaniards and Germans eventually made sure that the Mapuches didn’t have a stronghold anywhere and then I think racism took care of the Mapuches. Chiloe has lots of weird stories surrounding it. For example, there is a one-legged gnome/troll who lives on Chiloe and will get young unwed girls pregnant. There are also brujas, who were jackets that are made from the skin of virgins turned inside out. To become a bruja, you have to kill a close relative and do other evil things. But killing the close relative is key.
Sadly, we did not see any brujas or one-legged gnomes while on Chiloe. Nor did we see penguins. We did see sea lions and some birds and lots of fish and alpaca wool. And cows. And the eclipse!
Okay, rewind.
We managed to survive the two hour plane flight down to Puerto Montt, where we got on a bus to the bus station, where we got on a bus that got on a ferry that took us to Ancud and then the bus that was on the ferry took us from Ancud to Castro. In other words, we traveled from 9 to 5, which we were not expecting. After we finished traveling and had arrived, we set off without map or guidebook to find our hostel, which was a place called Hospedaje El Molo that looked out across the bay of Chiloe and was located down some very steep stairs. After examining the room, which had three beds slightly larger than twin, but not quite queen, we went to go find sea kayaking. Which we found and reserved for the next day, then we went out to dinner had some very cheap, very good fish and marveled over how big the almost full moon was. Then we went to go make hot chocolate. But the lady at the Mini-Market misled us and sold us chocolate filled with nasty stuff that was supposed to taste like liquer but just tasted nasty. So we made hot milk and tried to deal with the chocolate as we pleased and then we slept.
The next morning, I wandered around Chiloe for a half hour and decided that it looked exactly like Fort Bragg. And that the people were like Fort Bragg people. It made me happy and at home. I met up with Kara and Araceli back at the hostel and we headed down to the water to find the kayaks. We managed to find the kayaks but the guide was missing, so the man who ran the kayak place let us go out exploring on our own, which was wonderful. We spent four hours paddling down the bay and back and now my back and arms are very sore and my legs are red to the point of becoming purple. But we arrived back alive and managed to explore some of the coastline of this gorgeous island. Upon our return, we grabbed some food and then showered and then shopped. And I managed to buy all my family presents! Yay! On a scale of 1 to 10, that day rates a pretty awesome. Only to be supplemented by a fairly good dinner (more fish), during which we realized there was no moon. And as Kara and I were debating the logistics of waxing and waning, we realized that it was the middle of the eclipse! It was awesome. So we all frantically pulled out our camaras and tried to take pictures and all failed. But it was pretty to watch. Then, we sat down, I gave Kara and Araceli a massage and we went to bed early again.
In the morning, we checked out and went to catch our bus. Spent some time wandering around Puerto Montt and sitting the airport, but got back on the plane safely and happily, despite the really annoying couple sitting next to me. And returned home. So I would say, that was a pretty stellar weekend. In fact, I think that was the best trip I’ve taken. I’m glad the next trip is to Torres del Paine, which is going to be crazy intense. Kara and I have been kind of planning which is fun to think about in any case. In further news, my host family for next quarter sounds awesome! I mean, my future host dad likes “The Electric Koolaid Acid Test.” I don’t think that many Chileans can say that.
Sadly, we did not see any brujas or one-legged gnomes while on Chiloe. Nor did we see penguins. We did see sea lions and some birds and lots of fish and alpaca wool. And cows. And the eclipse!
Okay, rewind.
We managed to survive the two hour plane flight down to Puerto Montt, where we got on a bus to the bus station, where we got on a bus that got on a ferry that took us to Ancud and then the bus that was on the ferry took us from Ancud to Castro. In other words, we traveled from 9 to 5, which we were not expecting. After we finished traveling and had arrived, we set off without map or guidebook to find our hostel, which was a place called Hospedaje El Molo that looked out across the bay of Chiloe and was located down some very steep stairs. After examining the room, which had three beds slightly larger than twin, but not quite queen, we went to go find sea kayaking. Which we found and reserved for the next day, then we went out to dinner had some very cheap, very good fish and marveled over how big the almost full moon was. Then we went to go make hot chocolate. But the lady at the Mini-Market misled us and sold us chocolate filled with nasty stuff that was supposed to taste like liquer but just tasted nasty. So we made hot milk and tried to deal with the chocolate as we pleased and then we slept.
The next morning, I wandered around Chiloe for a half hour and decided that it looked exactly like Fort Bragg. And that the people were like Fort Bragg people. It made me happy and at home. I met up with Kara and Araceli back at the hostel and we headed down to the water to find the kayaks. We managed to find the kayaks but the guide was missing, so the man who ran the kayak place let us go out exploring on our own, which was wonderful. We spent four hours paddling down the bay and back and now my back and arms are very sore and my legs are red to the point of becoming purple. But we arrived back alive and managed to explore some of the coastline of this gorgeous island. Upon our return, we grabbed some food and then showered and then shopped. And I managed to buy all my family presents! Yay! On a scale of 1 to 10, that day rates a pretty awesome. Only to be supplemented by a fairly good dinner (more fish), during which we realized there was no moon. And as Kara and I were debating the logistics of waxing and waning, we realized that it was the middle of the eclipse! It was awesome. So we all frantically pulled out our camaras and tried to take pictures and all failed. But it was pretty to watch. Then, we sat down, I gave Kara and Araceli a massage and we went to bed early again.
In the morning, we checked out and went to catch our bus. Spent some time wandering around Puerto Montt and sitting the airport, but got back on the plane safely and happily, despite the really annoying couple sitting next to me. And returned home. So I would say, that was a pretty stellar weekend. In fact, I think that was the best trip I’ve taken. I’m glad the next trip is to Torres del Paine, which is going to be crazy intense. Kara and I have been kind of planning which is fun to think about in any case. In further news, my host family for next quarter sounds awesome! I mean, my future host dad likes “The Electric Koolaid Acid Test.” I don’t think that many Chileans can say that.
Thursday, March 1, 2007
I forgot to post this one, yep...
Once upon a time, there was a place called Valdivia. It was very picturesque and fairly close to the ocean. If you’ve ever been up the Columbia River Gorge, it looks like that. But not like Portland, it’s very scenic and on a very large river. In fact, the river is so large that boats and sea lions swim from the coast to Valdivia and back again. Then, the Germans immigrated, during World War II, bring with them chocolate and Chilean prejudices that everyone in the region is blond and blue-eyed and speaks slowly. Neither of these beliefs are true, but they do make some good chocolate. Then, the Bings decided to sponsor the Stanford group to go to Valdivia and see the parade they have in honor of “La Semana de Valdiviana.” So that was where we went this weekend. Sadly on the plane flight over, I lost my aisle seat to Noah, because he has long legs. But we arrived in Valdivia and had a very cheese-y dinner at the hotel, which Fabia said was the second nicest (they gave us free soap!). Seriously, everything at that meal was smothered in cheese. Which is too bad for Ilana because she doesn’t eat cheese and too bad for the rest of us because it wasn’t that good. Then, we wandered down to an Artisans fair and I found the only braided leather belt in all of South America, only it was too red and I knew Paul wouldn’t wear it, ever. But otherwise, it was a pretty awesome artisans fair and someone asked me if I was German rather than speaking to me in English right away, which was pleasant. Then, we headed home and dreamt, which is when I decided to tell Ilana that Honda civic hybrids are the best cars ever and she laughed at me in the morning.
We also got to see the fish/fruit market, where they were selling lots of fish and fruit. Large boats drove down the river towing smaller boats, filled with fruits, veggies and fish. The sea lions also came up the river to have some fish. Then, we wandered to the chocolate factory to see what was happening. Then the Bings decided that we should drink, so we went off to a beer brewery to go “beer tasting,” in which they gave us a five minute tour of the brewery and then brought out beer in three giant glass columns and gave us shot glasses, which made it a free-for-all. Then the Bings took us to lunch. They like to make sure that we eat and drink well. Lunch was right on the mouth of the river and the ocean. It was gorgeous, there was folk music playing, it was sunny and flowers were everywhere. It felt like a commune or a home for disabled people, we were all very content. We also explored a fort, or took a tour of it. But the most amazing thing about this fort was that it overlooked the ocean and that the ocean spread out forever. So Rita, Wendi, Dylan and I climbed down one of the cliffs that the fort was on so that we looked directly into the waves crashing below us. And then walked back down to the bus all in blissful happiness. Then, we walked around an museum of German Valdivia and then around the town some more. Then, we ate (what else) and headed off to the festival, which was a bunch of people watching boat floats on the river (La Mueñeca made an appearance! Okay, not the real mueñeca, but still…) and a bunch of people throwing confetti. Not in celebration, but into your eyes and mouth. So we eventually decided that we had had enough of that party and went to the hotel and watched Harry Potter and deconfettied ourselves. Only to arise the next morning to hop on the plane and return to Santiago.
Then, I turned out to be bed-ridden for the next couple of days and in my few waking moments reflected on existence or groped for water. But then I got drugs and now everything is okay. Yay!
We also got to see the fish/fruit market, where they were selling lots of fish and fruit. Large boats drove down the river towing smaller boats, filled with fruits, veggies and fish. The sea lions also came up the river to have some fish. Then, we wandered to the chocolate factory to see what was happening. Then the Bings decided that we should drink, so we went off to a beer brewery to go “beer tasting,” in which they gave us a five minute tour of the brewery and then brought out beer in three giant glass columns and gave us shot glasses, which made it a free-for-all. Then the Bings took us to lunch. They like to make sure that we eat and drink well. Lunch was right on the mouth of the river and the ocean. It was gorgeous, there was folk music playing, it was sunny and flowers were everywhere. It felt like a commune or a home for disabled people, we were all very content. We also explored a fort, or took a tour of it. But the most amazing thing about this fort was that it overlooked the ocean and that the ocean spread out forever. So Rita, Wendi, Dylan and I climbed down one of the cliffs that the fort was on so that we looked directly into the waves crashing below us. And then walked back down to the bus all in blissful happiness. Then, we walked around an museum of German Valdivia and then around the town some more. Then, we ate (what else) and headed off to the festival, which was a bunch of people watching boat floats on the river (La Mueñeca made an appearance! Okay, not the real mueñeca, but still…) and a bunch of people throwing confetti. Not in celebration, but into your eyes and mouth. So we eventually decided that we had had enough of that party and went to the hotel and watched Harry Potter and deconfettied ourselves. Only to arise the next morning to hop on the plane and return to Santiago.
Then, I turned out to be bed-ridden for the next couple of days and in my few waking moments reflected on existence or groped for water. But then I got drugs and now everything is okay. Yay!
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Vamos a Vina, Part Deux
Kara and I went to the Viña festival last night and it rocked. It was like watching the grammies, or the oscars. But it was fun. Btws, the Viña Festival is the big thing to do in Chile during the summer (Tom Jones is coming!) and it really is the South American form of the Grammies, which makes it a little silly in any case. But everyone is there, scantly clad or sunburnt (or both.) The evening started when we arrived at the hostel, the same one we had stayed at in at the beginning of the trip. Ninfa (the hostel owner) remembered us and we chatted for a bit and she told us to stay out until the sun came up, which we assured her we would. We wandered along the beach and then went to find food. Which we did (cheaply!) at this great little market, where you would order, they hand you your receipt, then you pay, then you go back to the counter where you ordered and get your food. The guys behind the counter made fun of us because we had no idea what was going on. But it was some good food. So we caloried up and headed out the venue, which apparently was just built last year, and found seats up in the “Galeria.” And then the festival began. Like most things in Chile it began with advertising: specifically, the dancing Santa Isabel sign and dancing girl shopping bags, because Santa Isabel (a grocery store down here) was sponsoring part of the Viña Festival. So it freaked with the dancing shopping bags for a bit while some really trendy kids did hip-hop in front. Where I was standing (with the plebes), a chant of "LIDER" (The rival grocery store) started up around us. But once the advertising was over, there was a Cirque de Sole-esque opening to two Chilean superstars who aren't very super (come one, they're chilean!) who introduced the headliner, a group I really like called La Oreja de Van Gogh. They're from Spain, but they are really popular down here and poppy. It was weird that they played first but totally fun. Then, there was a national singers competition (a latino from canada, a group from Chile, a group from Columbia, a pop star from argentina and a group de espana). None of them were very good. Then the folklore competition happened (I don't know where all the folklorists were from because I was talking to guys next to me and it was hard to hear.) Meanwhile, it was getting cold so Kara and I deicded we need warmth and comfort, which we found in the form of churros and a manajar-filled relleno. Oh happy goodness, we are now both on a diet. Then this awesome group called Basilios started to play, but the emcee Chilean superstars kept interrupting them to give them prizes and stuff (which had happened with La Oreja de Van Gogh, but La Oreja got to play for longer). Like Kara said, "It's incredibly Chilean, confusing and inefficient." So the emcees handing out medals and asking them if they wanted to say anything and finally the lead singer was like " No I want to play!" And the emcees gave each other a look that clearly said "Shut down!" and walked off stage. And then we danced! and then crashed in amazingly comfy beds! It was wonderfully absurd.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Holiday!
Okay, so on Sunday, Dylan was trying to remember what happened on Friday. Now it’s Tuesday and I’m going to go back to last Monday, so there might be a lot missing.
Last week there were midterms. Surprising, I know, as having work and class and have been a little lax for the past five weeks or so. But in any case, there was much studying and testing. Now it is done and the Center is no longer full of crazy stressed Stanford students, but partially sane Stanford students. I think that by almost everyone else’s standards here, I am a crazy hippie. They haven’t met very many crazy hippies apparently. In any case, midterms was last week and I am so glad that they are over. During this period of midterms, I slept a lot; I think that was a healthy decision. Oh, I also spent a day wandering around Santa Lucia and taking pictures and that was fun.
Then I flew to Buenos Aires. And that was absolutely amazing.
Buenos Aires is beautiful and there is art and roses and pretty buildings and good espresso and bookstores and friendly people and dancing and spice. And lots of other things too. When we fist got there, we wandered down to La Florida, the pedestrian/tourist strip, and wandered. We stumbled across Plaza de Mayo and Casa Rosada. The white house in Buenos Aires isn’t white, it’s pink! And they call it The Pink House. Then we managed to find some very rich Italian food at an overpriced tourist restaurant. And wandered back to the hostel. It was a relaxed evening wander and there were lots of people out, the way that there hasn’t been people in Santiago. Also, I think I told Samia earlier that I wasn’t as impressed with Argentineans as I was with Brazilians. I rescind this statement. Friday was a day of museum as Kara and I spent 4 hours in Museo de Bellas Artes and then wandered to go find a bookstore and some coffee. That night, we joined the other 8 or 9 people in Buenos Aires at the time to go to “Sigue La Vaca.” The door handles were giant cow’s heads. Yep. An all you can eat beef place where you get your own bottle of wine. I got the chicken. But there were many other good reviews. Then we went dancing where there were tons of Australians and some Argentineans, too. And then the next morning we went to Recoleta, the graveyard city. Literally, it’s all tombs above ground. Like the dead people live in little houses and have a party at night when there is nobody else around. Which might be accurate because there are pubs and strip clubs all around the graveyard. The graveyard was intense and eerie and beautiful, but it gave me the feeling that I get whenever I walk into large empty churches. Then we went out to lunch at the place where the waiters think we are crazy and Kara and I headed off to MALBA (museo de arte latinoamericano de Buenos Aires) (yay!), the rose garden, and the horse races which were much more fun than I expected. That night Ilana, Kara and I wandered to the BEST/spicy food I have had yet. Okay, best is pushing it, but it was spicy and we were gluttonous in terms of spice, wine and desert and all was good. We ended up wandering back up the stairs of the hostel in tears because we were laughing so hard. The next day was spent wandering around San Telmo and La Boca, two very different neighborhoods, but cool to see. Like I said Argentineans are really nice. We also accidentally found a Carnival festival on our way back home, which was amazing and dance-y and colorful. Found dinner next to Recoleta and then Kara and I got demolished by Gloria and Dylan in a game of pool. I think that Team Super Awesome maintained their cool though and will definitely dominate the pool table by the end of spring break. Then Kara and I wandered the next day, drinking coffee and finding universities to sit in and talking to interesting folk, before heading on the plane back home. Now we are in Santiago again, kind of wondering why they call it “studying abroad.” That is the kind of brief version of Buenos Aires, in my mind it is a lot more beautiful and there is a lot more happening all at once, but I am too tired and that would take too long right now. Happy Tuesday!
Last week there were midterms. Surprising, I know, as having work and class and have been a little lax for the past five weeks or so. But in any case, there was much studying and testing. Now it is done and the Center is no longer full of crazy stressed Stanford students, but partially sane Stanford students. I think that by almost everyone else’s standards here, I am a crazy hippie. They haven’t met very many crazy hippies apparently. In any case, midterms was last week and I am so glad that they are over. During this period of midterms, I slept a lot; I think that was a healthy decision. Oh, I also spent a day wandering around Santa Lucia and taking pictures and that was fun.
Then I flew to Buenos Aires. And that was absolutely amazing.
Buenos Aires is beautiful and there is art and roses and pretty buildings and good espresso and bookstores and friendly people and dancing and spice. And lots of other things too. When we fist got there, we wandered down to La Florida, the pedestrian/tourist strip, and wandered. We stumbled across Plaza de Mayo and Casa Rosada. The white house in Buenos Aires isn’t white, it’s pink! And they call it The Pink House. Then we managed to find some very rich Italian food at an overpriced tourist restaurant. And wandered back to the hostel. It was a relaxed evening wander and there were lots of people out, the way that there hasn’t been people in Santiago. Also, I think I told Samia earlier that I wasn’t as impressed with Argentineans as I was with Brazilians. I rescind this statement. Friday was a day of museum as Kara and I spent 4 hours in Museo de Bellas Artes and then wandered to go find a bookstore and some coffee. That night, we joined the other 8 or 9 people in Buenos Aires at the time to go to “Sigue La Vaca.” The door handles were giant cow’s heads. Yep. An all you can eat beef place where you get your own bottle of wine. I got the chicken. But there were many other good reviews. Then we went dancing where there were tons of Australians and some Argentineans, too. And then the next morning we went to Recoleta, the graveyard city. Literally, it’s all tombs above ground. Like the dead people live in little houses and have a party at night when there is nobody else around. Which might be accurate because there are pubs and strip clubs all around the graveyard. The graveyard was intense and eerie and beautiful, but it gave me the feeling that I get whenever I walk into large empty churches. Then we went out to lunch at the place where the waiters think we are crazy and Kara and I headed off to MALBA (museo de arte latinoamericano de Buenos Aires) (yay!), the rose garden, and the horse races which were much more fun than I expected. That night Ilana, Kara and I wandered to the BEST/spicy food I have had yet. Okay, best is pushing it, but it was spicy and we were gluttonous in terms of spice, wine and desert and all was good. We ended up wandering back up the stairs of the hostel in tears because we were laughing so hard. The next day was spent wandering around San Telmo and La Boca, two very different neighborhoods, but cool to see. Like I said Argentineans are really nice. We also accidentally found a Carnival festival on our way back home, which was amazing and dance-y and colorful. Found dinner next to Recoleta and then Kara and I got demolished by Gloria and Dylan in a game of pool. I think that Team Super Awesome maintained their cool though and will definitely dominate the pool table by the end of spring break. Then Kara and I wandered the next day, drinking coffee and finding universities to sit in and talking to interesting folk, before heading on the plane back home. Now we are in Santiago again, kind of wondering why they call it “studying abroad.” That is the kind of brief version of Buenos Aires, in my mind it is a lot more beautiful and there is a lot more happening all at once, but I am too tired and that would take too long right now. Happy Tuesday!
Monday, February 12, 2007
Moments
¡Cuidado! Moment: When you are walking down the street like you know where you’re going and some Chilean yells, “¡Cuidado!” to prevent you from actually stepping out into on coming traffic and accidentally killing yourself.
Gringa moment: When you are with a group of people and a Chilean asks you if you all speak Spanish and after you have all answered the affirmative, he points at you specifically and asks “Even you?” Another form of the gringa moment occurs in the dance club, when someone asks you to dance and you tell them no and then they ask you again in English because they think you didn’t understand the first time, when really you just think they are sketchy.
TranSantiago Moment: When there are a lack of micras and metros, the busdriver has no idea where he is going, and you don’t have to pay to use the bus because city planning did not realize the impact of changing the entire public transportation system and end up just pissing everyone off.
Castaño Moment: You find yourself walking downstairs and into Castaño everyday for a sugar/caffeine boost because wherever you are, Castaño is not more than half a block away. It’s the Starbucks of Chile! In pastry form! And they have ofertas on cookies con chips de chocolate!
Stanford Moment: When you are standing on the street corner and your friend asks you what you want to do that night, and you realize that all you want to do is sleep, and when you say this, all your friends agree with you and then start talking about how much they have to study the next day despite the fact that you are in a foreign country and not on campus.
Highlights of the week: baking chocolate chip cookies w/o chocolate chips, talking with my host mom and dad about random things, discovering Bellavista, finding hazelnut gelato, talking to the folk at Astrid y Gaston, going to Jammin’, going to El Tunnel again, NUTS!, used book fairs in pretty buildings, being told my Spanish was passable, hearing Ilana’s stories, being distracted by the free wireless at Starbucks, actually going to Starbucks, Chinese dudes in heavy armor duking it out with swords while everybody just sits there and watches not really sure about what they are seeing.
Ciao!
Gringa moment: When you are with a group of people and a Chilean asks you if you all speak Spanish and after you have all answered the affirmative, he points at you specifically and asks “Even you?” Another form of the gringa moment occurs in the dance club, when someone asks you to dance and you tell them no and then they ask you again in English because they think you didn’t understand the first time, when really you just think they are sketchy.
TranSantiago Moment: When there are a lack of micras and metros, the busdriver has no idea where he is going, and you don’t have to pay to use the bus because city planning did not realize the impact of changing the entire public transportation system and end up just pissing everyone off.
Castaño Moment: You find yourself walking downstairs and into Castaño everyday for a sugar/caffeine boost because wherever you are, Castaño is not more than half a block away. It’s the Starbucks of Chile! In pastry form! And they have ofertas on cookies con chips de chocolate!
Stanford Moment: When you are standing on the street corner and your friend asks you what you want to do that night, and you realize that all you want to do is sleep, and when you say this, all your friends agree with you and then start talking about how much they have to study the next day despite the fact that you are in a foreign country and not on campus.
Highlights of the week: baking chocolate chip cookies w/o chocolate chips, talking with my host mom and dad about random things, discovering Bellavista, finding hazelnut gelato, talking to the folk at Astrid y Gaston, going to Jammin’, going to El Tunnel again, NUTS!, used book fairs in pretty buildings, being told my Spanish was passable, hearing Ilana’s stories, being distracted by the free wireless at Starbucks, actually going to Starbucks, Chinese dudes in heavy armor duking it out with swords while everybody just sits there and watches not really sure about what they are seeing.
Ciao!
Friday, February 9, 2007
Work...
Welcome to my stream-of-consciousness during the middle of studying for midterms, provoked by a sudden kick of caffeine from Nescafe and sugar. Yay!
The cons and pros of getting a job in Chile:
Case Study: Astrid y Gaston. (http://www.astridygaston.com/)
Cons:
It would take a lot of time even to have a part time job in Chile. I mean I’m already trying to do this volunteer thing, which would take up most of my free afternoons. And I like the volunteer thing, the people are different from anybody at Stanford and its good to get out of the center. And I am traveling pretty steadily for the next three weeks after this. First to Bueños Aires, then to Viña del Mar, Vadivia , Chiloe, oh my! And then, if I decide to take classes at the Chilean University next quarter, I would have like no time whatsoever. And I want to take classes at a Chilean university because I want to meet more people my age. Right? Right. Okay.
It’s illegal. And I’m not really ready to end up back in the states. But they are pretty lax about the illegal stuff here. I mean, I don’t really need a work visa because they just don’t care. They just don’t want to be responsible if I chop off my hand or burn off my face or something. But, it’s not even like I’d be getting paid. (I think; but that hasn’t really been discussed, yet.) It’s an internship.
It would take away time for my host family. Considering I would probably get paid in meals, which my host family provides and along with company during mealtime. In fact, the most interaction I have with my host family is over a meal. Then again, I am moving out next quarter, which also means that I would have to spend more time getting to know a new host family.
Fabia would flip. Hee, my mom would flip. Everyone would flip except for dad. And he would be excited and then flip when I fail out of school.
I am a student, despite appearances. I should be studying. It’s also illegal.
Pros:
I’d get to work in a kitchen in Chile and learn Spanish! Sweet! Umm, that basically sounds like the offer of a lifetime.
They don’t care if I do or don’t have a work visa, as long as I don’t chop off my hand or burn my face off or something.
I’m a student. I’d be learning about kitchen-y things and Spanish!
I would get to meet more Chileans, and learn more Spanish!
I’d get to cook!
It would make me feel more independent here, which would be a good thing.
I’d get out of the center more.
It could be lots of fun.
Yep. That’s it. Working in Chile is probably the stupidest idea I’ve been excited about in a while. Yep. Okay. Disappointment will set in for the next couple of hours, at which point I will decide that being a student in Chile is not my first priority and that living in Chile is. And then I will go through this discussion again. Wow, life is so predictable. Funny how that works. And the caffeine rush is gone.
The cons and pros of getting a job in Chile:
Case Study: Astrid y Gaston. (http://www.astridygaston.com/)
Cons:
It would take a lot of time even to have a part time job in Chile. I mean I’m already trying to do this volunteer thing, which would take up most of my free afternoons. And I like the volunteer thing, the people are different from anybody at Stanford and its good to get out of the center. And I am traveling pretty steadily for the next three weeks after this. First to Bueños Aires, then to Viña del Mar, Vadivia , Chiloe, oh my! And then, if I decide to take classes at the Chilean University next quarter, I would have like no time whatsoever. And I want to take classes at a Chilean university because I want to meet more people my age. Right? Right. Okay.
It’s illegal. And I’m not really ready to end up back in the states. But they are pretty lax about the illegal stuff here. I mean, I don’t really need a work visa because they just don’t care. They just don’t want to be responsible if I chop off my hand or burn off my face or something. But, it’s not even like I’d be getting paid. (I think; but that hasn’t really been discussed, yet.) It’s an internship.
It would take away time for my host family. Considering I would probably get paid in meals, which my host family provides and along with company during mealtime. In fact, the most interaction I have with my host family is over a meal. Then again, I am moving out next quarter, which also means that I would have to spend more time getting to know a new host family.
Fabia would flip. Hee, my mom would flip. Everyone would flip except for dad. And he would be excited and then flip when I fail out of school.
I am a student, despite appearances. I should be studying. It’s also illegal.
Pros:
I’d get to work in a kitchen in Chile and learn Spanish! Sweet! Umm, that basically sounds like the offer of a lifetime.
They don’t care if I do or don’t have a work visa, as long as I don’t chop off my hand or burn my face off or something.
I’m a student. I’d be learning about kitchen-y things and Spanish!
I would get to meet more Chileans, and learn more Spanish!
I’d get to cook!
It would make me feel more independent here, which would be a good thing.
I’d get out of the center more.
It could be lots of fun.
Yep. That’s it. Working in Chile is probably the stupidest idea I’ve been excited about in a while. Yep. Okay. Disappointment will set in for the next couple of hours, at which point I will decide that being a student in Chile is not my first priority and that living in Chile is. And then I will go through this discussion again. Wow, life is so predictable. Funny how that works. And the caffeine rush is gone.
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
Yay for happy exhaustion! Last week was a little stressful, just because travel planning happened, in which there was much drama with the internet and maps. But all is well now and I don’t have to think about scheduling again, until sometime next week. There was also a trip to Museo de Bellas Artes, which made me sad about the state of Chilean Museums and feel like a major Art History nerd at the same time, especially because there was a painting by this guy Holguin, who I already wrote a paper about. I felt especially smart that day. Also, I got my interview with the community service peeps, who work down by the bus station and are ¡superbien! So, hopefully, that will come through.
But the main event of the week was Mendoza. Four of us: Wendi, Sabrina, Kara and I, left Thursday night and head through the Andes to the Argentinean border. I have trouble sleeping on buses, especially when I have to wake up halfway through to go through customs, anyways. Luckily, this was also two nights before the full moon. The mountains loomed up like giant stegosauruses and the reflection of the moon on patches of snow were as bright as spotlights. It seemed like the whole world had stopped as we slowly wove our way through the mountains to customs, which was freezing. Customs didn’t take that long, so we reached Mendoza at 5:40 in the morning, caught a cab and end up at our hostel door. We knocked for a couple of minutes, while all wondering (without saying) what we would do if nobody opened the door. Luckily, a really attractive Argentinean did open the door and let us crash on the lobby couches for the next three hours. (While not the most comfortable arrangement, it was free. Yay!) The next morning (or that same morning, depending on your perspective) we ate breakfast and planned the next day and a half in Mendoza. First on the list was the tenedor libre, or the fantastically cheap all-you-can-eat restaurant. The prepared food in Mendoza is amazing. In fact, it was so good, we couldn’t move; they had to kick us out of the restaurant. So we wandered to the park and looked at crafts stuff that was for sale.
Then, it started to rain. Well, not really clouds were piling and there was some thunder. We headed back to the hostel to see if our calbagatos plans for the evening were canceled or still on.
Luckily for us, the horseback riding was a go. Normally, I don’t really like doing the horseback riding thing because the horses normally look sickly. But these were healthy horses. And since we were the only four people leaving from the hostel, there were two guides for the four of us. The guides took us up past the giant statue of Christ that they seem to have in every South American city and up into the mountains. As the moon rose, we could see the entire city of Mendoza lit up, with a layer of clouds hovering over the city. Lightning was shooting back and forth across the clouds, lighting up the sky. And as we watched, the moon rose up through the clouds and hovered over the lightning storm and Mendoza. Happy, content and tired, we rode back to the ranch (literally) and the guides made us a barbeque (so much food). And we returned to the hostel and crashed.
The next morning we woke up and caught a bus out to the mountains, where we went hiking through New Mexico looking mountains and shrubbery to waterfalls (which I don’t think we’ve found hiking in New Mexico). Later that afternoon, we went rafting with Mario and a Brazilian dude and had tons of fun. They had to end the rafting a little earlier because another lightning storm moved in, but we were all okay with that. That night we head out to Alquimia (The Alchemist, my Australian roommate proudly informed me.) Which was awesome, if only in size. It was huge and fun. The music was actually okay, the sketchiness of most of the guys there was not (when people all around you start yelling “Hey, California, over here!” it is time to leave). So Wendi and I hailed a cab and talked politics back to the hostel where we crashed. Next morning, took a bus back down through the mountains into the Santiago smog valley. And my host family stared at me as I struggled to make conversation while eating and trying not to pass out over my sandia. Oh, to be home!
But the main event of the week was Mendoza. Four of us: Wendi, Sabrina, Kara and I, left Thursday night and head through the Andes to the Argentinean border. I have trouble sleeping on buses, especially when I have to wake up halfway through to go through customs, anyways. Luckily, this was also two nights before the full moon. The mountains loomed up like giant stegosauruses and the reflection of the moon on patches of snow were as bright as spotlights. It seemed like the whole world had stopped as we slowly wove our way through the mountains to customs, which was freezing. Customs didn’t take that long, so we reached Mendoza at 5:40 in the morning, caught a cab and end up at our hostel door. We knocked for a couple of minutes, while all wondering (without saying) what we would do if nobody opened the door. Luckily, a really attractive Argentinean did open the door and let us crash on the lobby couches for the next three hours. (While not the most comfortable arrangement, it was free. Yay!) The next morning (or that same morning, depending on your perspective) we ate breakfast and planned the next day and a half in Mendoza. First on the list was the tenedor libre, or the fantastically cheap all-you-can-eat restaurant. The prepared food in Mendoza is amazing. In fact, it was so good, we couldn’t move; they had to kick us out of the restaurant. So we wandered to the park and looked at crafts stuff that was for sale.
Then, it started to rain. Well, not really clouds were piling and there was some thunder. We headed back to the hostel to see if our calbagatos plans for the evening were canceled or still on.
Luckily for us, the horseback riding was a go. Normally, I don’t really like doing the horseback riding thing because the horses normally look sickly. But these were healthy horses. And since we were the only four people leaving from the hostel, there were two guides for the four of us. The guides took us up past the giant statue of Christ that they seem to have in every South American city and up into the mountains. As the moon rose, we could see the entire city of Mendoza lit up, with a layer of clouds hovering over the city. Lightning was shooting back and forth across the clouds, lighting up the sky. And as we watched, the moon rose up through the clouds and hovered over the lightning storm and Mendoza. Happy, content and tired, we rode back to the ranch (literally) and the guides made us a barbeque (so much food). And we returned to the hostel and crashed.
The next morning we woke up and caught a bus out to the mountains, where we went hiking through New Mexico looking mountains and shrubbery to waterfalls (which I don’t think we’ve found hiking in New Mexico). Later that afternoon, we went rafting with Mario and a Brazilian dude and had tons of fun. They had to end the rafting a little earlier because another lightning storm moved in, but we were all okay with that. That night we head out to Alquimia (The Alchemist, my Australian roommate proudly informed me.) Which was awesome, if only in size. It was huge and fun. The music was actually okay, the sketchiness of most of the guys there was not (when people all around you start yelling “Hey, California, over here!” it is time to leave). So Wendi and I hailed a cab and talked politics back to the hostel where we crashed. Next morning, took a bus back down through the mountains into the Santiago smog valley. And my host family stared at me as I struggled to make conversation while eating and trying not to pass out over my sandia. Oh, to be home!
Monday, January 29, 2007
The Fam...
I have given in. I have started drinking Nescafe. Sad, but cheap (or in this case free, my host family has it… on second thought, everybody’s host family probably has it). I try to ignore the taste while I’m drinking it. I need some decent way to inject caffeine into my body. But whatevs.
Quick rehash of the week. There was class. I like my classes, I like Chilean professors, they are animated. I do not like classes that are an hour and a half long; it makes me feel like I have serious attention deficit-ness. There were also birthdays: there were four birthdays and three birthday parties. First on Monday, with Gloria, whose fam rocks (her mom and dad gave us a salsa show). Then on Thursday, with Micah and Richard, who took us first to Micah’s house and then to El Tunnel (or El TUNnel, not tunel) where we partied like rock stars. Then, my host sister’s birthday. She technically had two parties, one on Friday and one on Saturday, but I really only attended the Friday party, which was family style. Then, there was randomness, which involved romantic music in a soccer stadium (Sin Bandera is ‘Nsync part II, sung in Spanish, by guys who look like they're from Sweeden), cards with Samia’s host family, ice cream and my host sister’s boyfriend, a zoo, cueca, ‘trekking’ with experience and some negotiating with Pablo, and finally a giant muñeca and her rhinoceros. Oh, and a mob. So, it was busy. If you need details, email me and I will explain. I didn’t see my host family much, until Friday night. But, they are happy enough to accept that I will do family things with them if they ask before hand.
There are three daughters in the family and two dogs. My host mom, Valeria, is who I see the most. She is a work at home mom. For her work, she cleans the house and sits by the pool. She also watches telanovelas. In fact, we just watched half of one together. It was dramatic. She is incredibly opinionated about things in general, but I think it runs in the family because her dad told me that he didn’t like Michelle Bachelet, because her father was a terrorist. Needless to say, my host mom will tell you if she thinks you are fat, lazy, or need to practice Spanish. Not all of these have happened to me, yet. The love of my host mom’s life is Lukas, her dog. Lukas is a little high strung. He likes to bark a lot. When I first got here, he would not stop barking, making it hard to understand anything. Now he only barks when he wants to play or if someone he doesn’t like comes to the door. Lukas’ life partner is Julian. A little white, stupid looking dog that likes to sit on my bed or in my lap and generally reminds me of Socks, except he’s not as fat, or a cat. My youngest host sister, Vale, is Julian’s favorite. She is eighteen and is in her last year of high school. She just spent about two weeks in Puerto Vara and is going to Pucon at the end of this week. Other than her travel plans, we don’t really talk. My middle sister, Daniela, just turned twenty five. After they finished singing happy birthday, someone started to sing the wedding march. Awkward. Especially for her and her boyfriend. She also likes to go out a lot and sleep. But she and her boyfriend, Felix, are both really sweet and cool when I see them. She also studies Design, which is cool. She’s also twenty-five and still living at home. My host mom likes to complain about Dani. My eldest host sister, though, also just got married and moved out. My host mom misses Maria Ignaci a lot. She talks about how much Naci did around the house to help out. When I’m trying to speak Spanish, Naci is the most helpful, the most forgiving and the most willing to believe I actually understand what they are talking about. Unfortunately, she isn’t around much. My host dad, Jorge, likes to think that I don’t really understand a lot. So he quizzes me, which is helpful. He also talks about stuff that is probably really mundane to him, which is also helpful. He also seems to understand what’s like being a girl in a foreign country and really having no clue what the hell is going on, so he gives me tips on hip things to do while laughing at how bad my Spanish is. My sisters’ boyfriends and husbands are probably the people I feel the most comfortable with, though. Cause they’re like outsiders in the family, too. And while they are closer to other family members than I, I feel like they go out of their way to include me in the conversation while I struggle to understand everything. In any case, there’s an update on my family. They’re really sweet and fun, and have done a lot to make staying in Santiago easier. Okay, I’m done now.
Quick rehash of the week. There was class. I like my classes, I like Chilean professors, they are animated. I do not like classes that are an hour and a half long; it makes me feel like I have serious attention deficit-ness. There were also birthdays: there were four birthdays and three birthday parties. First on Monday, with Gloria, whose fam rocks (her mom and dad gave us a salsa show). Then on Thursday, with Micah and Richard, who took us first to Micah’s house and then to El Tunnel (or El TUNnel, not tunel) where we partied like rock stars. Then, my host sister’s birthday. She technically had two parties, one on Friday and one on Saturday, but I really only attended the Friday party, which was family style. Then, there was randomness, which involved romantic music in a soccer stadium (Sin Bandera is ‘Nsync part II, sung in Spanish, by guys who look like they're from Sweeden), cards with Samia’s host family, ice cream and my host sister’s boyfriend, a zoo, cueca, ‘trekking’ with experience and some negotiating with Pablo, and finally a giant muñeca and her rhinoceros. Oh, and a mob. So, it was busy. If you need details, email me and I will explain. I didn’t see my host family much, until Friday night. But, they are happy enough to accept that I will do family things with them if they ask before hand.
There are three daughters in the family and two dogs. My host mom, Valeria, is who I see the most. She is a work at home mom. For her work, she cleans the house and sits by the pool. She also watches telanovelas. In fact, we just watched half of one together. It was dramatic. She is incredibly opinionated about things in general, but I think it runs in the family because her dad told me that he didn’t like Michelle Bachelet, because her father was a terrorist. Needless to say, my host mom will tell you if she thinks you are fat, lazy, or need to practice Spanish. Not all of these have happened to me, yet. The love of my host mom’s life is Lukas, her dog. Lukas is a little high strung. He likes to bark a lot. When I first got here, he would not stop barking, making it hard to understand anything. Now he only barks when he wants to play or if someone he doesn’t like comes to the door. Lukas’ life partner is Julian. A little white, stupid looking dog that likes to sit on my bed or in my lap and generally reminds me of Socks, except he’s not as fat, or a cat. My youngest host sister, Vale, is Julian’s favorite. She is eighteen and is in her last year of high school. She just spent about two weeks in Puerto Vara and is going to Pucon at the end of this week. Other than her travel plans, we don’t really talk. My middle sister, Daniela, just turned twenty five. After they finished singing happy birthday, someone started to sing the wedding march. Awkward. Especially for her and her boyfriend. She also likes to go out a lot and sleep. But she and her boyfriend, Felix, are both really sweet and cool when I see them. She also studies Design, which is cool. She’s also twenty-five and still living at home. My host mom likes to complain about Dani. My eldest host sister, though, also just got married and moved out. My host mom misses Maria Ignaci a lot. She talks about how much Naci did around the house to help out. When I’m trying to speak Spanish, Naci is the most helpful, the most forgiving and the most willing to believe I actually understand what they are talking about. Unfortunately, she isn’t around much. My host dad, Jorge, likes to think that I don’t really understand a lot. So he quizzes me, which is helpful. He also talks about stuff that is probably really mundane to him, which is also helpful. He also seems to understand what’s like being a girl in a foreign country and really having no clue what the hell is going on, so he gives me tips on hip things to do while laughing at how bad my Spanish is. My sisters’ boyfriends and husbands are probably the people I feel the most comfortable with, though. Cause they’re like outsiders in the family, too. And while they are closer to other family members than I, I feel like they go out of their way to include me in the conversation while I struggle to understand everything. In any case, there’s an update on my family. They’re really sweet and fun, and have done a lot to make staying in Santiago easier. Okay, I’m done now.
Monday, January 22, 2007
Bing me!
I just finished a letter to 826 Valencia telling them why they should hire me and now I can’t think of anything to write. I was going to go backwards but that just seems to complicated right now, so here’s the beginning:
This was the week of Bing.
Tuesday morning, I headed down to the tourism office to talk about Torres del Paine, which seems totally do-able, even if we just wanted to do day hikes. I’ve decided that Chile is the most beautiful country I’ve ever been to; so pretty much, no matter where you end up going, it’s pretty sweet. And the people are nice, like the lady who helped me at the tourism office. I spent the rest of the day catching up on schoolwork, or starting it, and went to dance class. This was a Stanford-sponsored dance class. Like most Stanford dance classes, I was disappointed. Sad panda.
The highlight of Wednesday was that incredible jazz festival that the Bing’s paid for. The performance was on the banks of the incredibly polluted river in Santiago, but it was gorgeous anyways. The guy who was performing, Al Di Meola, was wearing an incredible seventies-style vest, played a zebra print guitar and didn’t speak a single word of Spanish for the minute and a half he talked. Note even “Buenas Noches.” Jeff pointed out that all the pictures of Al Di Meola showed Al Di Meola minus five years. But the guitar playing rocked, as did the percussionists and the keyboardist’s smile. Afterwards, we headed out to the “Phone Box Pub.” Fabia, the center director, has described this place as “crunchy,” as in granola, as in hippie. I wonder if Fabia has ever had granola.
Thursday was another classless day, besides meeting with Mabel, who is super-bien. I found a pool, and it’s cheap. Go discounts! That night I had a great meal with my family, who decided that I needed to know more chilenismos. “What bad words do you know?” my host mom asked. After they finished my Spanish lesson, I headed off to Bellavista with Kiran and Ilana. We got lost by bus and ended up taking the most pimp taxi I have ever been in. Seriously, this guy had bought a new speaker set, put in a new engine; so there we are, racing between taxis and buses, about 100 miles an hour, blasting Bob Marley. Luckily, we see Kara and Sabrina at a stoplight and throw ourselves from the car to meet them. Then, salsa. There was live music and much dancing and spinning, oh my!
Friday: Picnic with Chileans. Today I learned that picnic is a racist word, coming from colonial America where they would pick a nigger to lynch and celebrate with food. To say the least, our picnic did not involve racism or lynchings, only soccer, paddle boats and card games. I then treated myself to a private dance party, which my room is just barely big enough for. Chileans are an interesting bunch. But Americans are definitely weirder.
I mean really who doesn’t go out on a Friday night and starts drinking on Saturday morning at 10:30. The Bings do! Or at least, they paid for us to go on the wine train. We had to be at the center at 8 in the morning, which means leaving the house at 7:15, which means it’s harder to find public transportation. But we made it on time and were served wine from the moment we stepped on the wine train at 10:30 to the end of our tour of Santa Cruz Viña around 4:45. That’s a lot of wine. Luckily, there was an interlude of Dylan, the tallest American among us, dancing the cueca with a girl who was about 4 ft tall. The wine valley is stunning, covered in a sea of grapevines and surrounded by green mountains. We all decided that we could get used to that type of life for a little while at least.
But instead, we headed straight off to Pichilemu, surfing capital of Chile. Okay, so only 5 of us went. Dawn and I had a little trouble, because the hostel we booked at was full, so we hostel hopped until we found one that had space run by a scary old man who sat in a glass office all day and night. We grabbed some empandas and ice cream, caught a couple songs from an outdoor concert, watched some skaters and went on the great ATM search so that we could pay for these really cool cloths we found. There was also some excellent rally, but I think we were both to cheap to pay for it. The next day we went surfing. That’s right, I totally surfed in a foreign country and caught one of the most perfect waves ever. But that’s about it. I caught one. In my defense, the currents sucked (literally) and I eventually gave up trying to paddle out. We then went to go find the bus and caught it to come home. And now I am totally sun burned (did you know that there’s a hole in the ozone layer right over Chile), exhausted and Binged out.
This was the week of Bing.
Tuesday morning, I headed down to the tourism office to talk about Torres del Paine, which seems totally do-able, even if we just wanted to do day hikes. I’ve decided that Chile is the most beautiful country I’ve ever been to; so pretty much, no matter where you end up going, it’s pretty sweet. And the people are nice, like the lady who helped me at the tourism office. I spent the rest of the day catching up on schoolwork, or starting it, and went to dance class. This was a Stanford-sponsored dance class. Like most Stanford dance classes, I was disappointed. Sad panda.
The highlight of Wednesday was that incredible jazz festival that the Bing’s paid for. The performance was on the banks of the incredibly polluted river in Santiago, but it was gorgeous anyways. The guy who was performing, Al Di Meola, was wearing an incredible seventies-style vest, played a zebra print guitar and didn’t speak a single word of Spanish for the minute and a half he talked. Note even “Buenas Noches.” Jeff pointed out that all the pictures of Al Di Meola showed Al Di Meola minus five years. But the guitar playing rocked, as did the percussionists and the keyboardist’s smile. Afterwards, we headed out to the “Phone Box Pub.” Fabia, the center director, has described this place as “crunchy,” as in granola, as in hippie. I wonder if Fabia has ever had granola.
Thursday was another classless day, besides meeting with Mabel, who is super-bien. I found a pool, and it’s cheap. Go discounts! That night I had a great meal with my family, who decided that I needed to know more chilenismos. “What bad words do you know?” my host mom asked. After they finished my Spanish lesson, I headed off to Bellavista with Kiran and Ilana. We got lost by bus and ended up taking the most pimp taxi I have ever been in. Seriously, this guy had bought a new speaker set, put in a new engine; so there we are, racing between taxis and buses, about 100 miles an hour, blasting Bob Marley. Luckily, we see Kara and Sabrina at a stoplight and throw ourselves from the car to meet them. Then, salsa. There was live music and much dancing and spinning, oh my!
Friday: Picnic with Chileans. Today I learned that picnic is a racist word, coming from colonial America where they would pick a nigger to lynch and celebrate with food. To say the least, our picnic did not involve racism or lynchings, only soccer, paddle boats and card games. I then treated myself to a private dance party, which my room is just barely big enough for. Chileans are an interesting bunch. But Americans are definitely weirder.
I mean really who doesn’t go out on a Friday night and starts drinking on Saturday morning at 10:30. The Bings do! Or at least, they paid for us to go on the wine train. We had to be at the center at 8 in the morning, which means leaving the house at 7:15, which means it’s harder to find public transportation. But we made it on time and were served wine from the moment we stepped on the wine train at 10:30 to the end of our tour of Santa Cruz Viña around 4:45. That’s a lot of wine. Luckily, there was an interlude of Dylan, the tallest American among us, dancing the cueca with a girl who was about 4 ft tall. The wine valley is stunning, covered in a sea of grapevines and surrounded by green mountains. We all decided that we could get used to that type of life for a little while at least.
But instead, we headed straight off to Pichilemu, surfing capital of Chile. Okay, so only 5 of us went. Dawn and I had a little trouble, because the hostel we booked at was full, so we hostel hopped until we found one that had space run by a scary old man who sat in a glass office all day and night. We grabbed some empandas and ice cream, caught a couple songs from an outdoor concert, watched some skaters and went on the great ATM search so that we could pay for these really cool cloths we found. There was also some excellent rally, but I think we were both to cheap to pay for it. The next day we went surfing. That’s right, I totally surfed in a foreign country and caught one of the most perfect waves ever. But that’s about it. I caught one. In my defense, the currents sucked (literally) and I eventually gave up trying to paddle out. We then went to go find the bus and caught it to come home. And now I am totally sun burned (did you know that there’s a hole in the ozone layer right over Chile), exhausted and Binged out.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Fuimos a Vina...
The past couple of days have been a little crazy… in a good way. Friday was lots of sight seeing: La Moneda, a strange graffiti park that Kara and I stumbled across and a church with a morgue in the basement. Friday night, Ilana and I and a couple other girls had planned to go to a movie in the park across from our apartment. But when I got home, my host mom asked me to go to a birthday party of someone in the family (the exact relationship got lost in translation.) When I explained my plans to her, she told me I could spend time with my friends at any point, but I would go with her that night. So we went. The whole family was there and asking me about California and where I was planning on traveling to. At points, it almost dissolved into a large game of charades. But as a gift, they gave me a coffee table book of pictures of Chile, so I could see all the places I wanted to go! Then, they served ate hot dogs that were covered in avocado and mayonnaise accompanied by pisco sours, cervezas and wine. Then, as I was trying not to fall asleep on the couch while looking at coffee table books, the family sang happy birthday in English.
I think it was my host cousin’s birthday. I’m still a little confused.
The next morning I headed downstairs and chatted with the doorman (who has a very Chilean name that I cannot remember) until Ilana called me and told me she had slept through her alarm. So I went outside and caught the bus and the metro and met up with 14 other people at the bus station where we climbed aboard to Viña del Mar. Leslie and I bravely led the way to our hostel and got lost…a couple of times. Finally we found it and the owner of the hostel, Ninfa, whose the cool grandma I want to be, and Luna, her cat, welcomed us with open arms. We put our stuff in rooms and headed down to a crafts fair and talked to the vendors for a bit.
Rather than waiting for people to get henna tattoos, Kara and I headed out to Reñaca, which has the craziest beach party scene I have ever seen, but also a gorgeous view of the ocean. Other people eventually joined us and we grabbed empandas and headed back to Viña, accidentally ran into Dawn and Julia and went salsa dancing at a pool hall. We were the youngest people there and the dancing was still going on at five in the morning.
Next morning, headed out to Valpariso. Visited Neruda’s house. He was insane and liked pink and bathrooms with no privacy. We wandered down some hillsides before taking the acensor to the bottom. Then we headed out to Cóncon, which is some of the most beautiful coastline I have ever seen. We had a very long dinner there and then head back to the hostel and threw a party, yay us!
We headed back pretty early on Monday because there was much work to be done. But the dogs in my host family seem to be warming up to me now. It’s probably because I give them food to make them shut up. It’s also hot; maybe they don’t have much energy. Anyways, over dinner, my host mom began to tell me about all the places I should travel to and started to explain what Stanford things I should skip so I can go other more interesting places, while my host dad tested my vocabulary of shellfish. So, I would say, that was a pretty good weekend.
This week, I need to find about Torres del Paine and a pool. Life is happy.
I think it was my host cousin’s birthday. I’m still a little confused.
The next morning I headed downstairs and chatted with the doorman (who has a very Chilean name that I cannot remember) until Ilana called me and told me she had slept through her alarm. So I went outside and caught the bus and the metro and met up with 14 other people at the bus station where we climbed aboard to Viña del Mar. Leslie and I bravely led the way to our hostel and got lost…a couple of times. Finally we found it and the owner of the hostel, Ninfa, whose the cool grandma I want to be, and Luna, her cat, welcomed us with open arms. We put our stuff in rooms and headed down to a crafts fair and talked to the vendors for a bit.
Rather than waiting for people to get henna tattoos, Kara and I headed out to Reñaca, which has the craziest beach party scene I have ever seen, but also a gorgeous view of the ocean. Other people eventually joined us and we grabbed empandas and headed back to Viña, accidentally ran into Dawn and Julia and went salsa dancing at a pool hall. We were the youngest people there and the dancing was still going on at five in the morning.
Next morning, headed out to Valpariso. Visited Neruda’s house. He was insane and liked pink and bathrooms with no privacy. We wandered down some hillsides before taking the acensor to the bottom. Then we headed out to Cóncon, which is some of the most beautiful coastline I have ever seen. We had a very long dinner there and then head back to the hostel and threw a party, yay us!
We headed back pretty early on Monday because there was much work to be done. But the dogs in my host family seem to be warming up to me now. It’s probably because I give them food to make them shut up. It’s also hot; maybe they don’t have much energy. Anyways, over dinner, my host mom began to tell me about all the places I should travel to and started to explain what Stanford things I should skip so I can go other more interesting places, while my host dad tested my vocabulary of shellfish. So, I would say, that was a pretty good weekend.
This week, I need to find about Torres del Paine and a pool. Life is happy.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Chileans like their country. They want you to like their country, too. If you come visit them, they will be more than happy to tell you all they know about their own country. And they will be more than happy to offer you anything that you need, from Chilean cigarettes and pot to advice about how to eat and the correct bus fare. They want you to feel at home, but they make sure to let you know that Chile is a very different country.
But sometimes, sitting in orientation with 44 other Stanford students makes Chile and the U.S. the same place. Like all study abroad programs, the students speak in English to each other (because we look stupid if we don’t know something) and stumble over our words when speaking to our host families where no one can see us. Like all study abroad programs, everyone will be everyone’s best friend for the next few days, and going to get a drink with your friend will turn into a excursion where you go to get drinks with 20 friends and you walk an extra mile very slowly because nobody actually knows where they are going.
But Santiago will welcome you with open arms and a kiss! When Leslie, Jeff, and I made it through an hour long wait in customs after our flight, the cab driver and a tour guide climbed in the van to take us to our host families homes. Our tour guide happily chatted about all the things to see in Santiago (while pointing out that, of course, only gringos go there) and how green Santiago was and how nice Santiago’s roads were, while the driver focused on getting us to the outskirts/suburbs of Santiago. When we pulled up to the apartment at midnight, my host mom was waiting for me at the door (which made me wonder if she had been waiting there since 10 that morning.) She brought me upstairs and introduced me to her youngest daughter and her dogs, while explaining that the rest of the family would be in tomorrow night; and I crawled into bed.
The next morning, I met Ilana and Tonya, the two other girls from the Stanford program who are living in the apartment complex. We took La Migra, the local Chilean bus to school, where we were welcomed by Fabia, who was bouncy and told us everything we needed to know about Chile, which has lasted for about one week now. Everyday starts with all of us deprived of caffeine and slightly overwhelmed by the whirlwind bus ride to “the center.” The shock of the bus ride is followed by a torrent of information about Chile and its specific traditions, interspersed with the first classes of the week. The nights are a combination of trying to get to know my family and meeting up with people from Stanford. Because it’s the first week, everyone is going out, to bars, to dancing, to karaoke. Despite the crazy nightlife catering to American tourists, everyone seems to be getting to know their family and the habits that there family has, talking to their children, etc, even though they’re in the Center all day.
This weekend we are heading out to Viña, where I have determined there will be dancing. And salsa dancing tonight, and a possible hip-hop studio! Balia en todo el mundo! Muchos besitos!
But sometimes, sitting in orientation with 44 other Stanford students makes Chile and the U.S. the same place. Like all study abroad programs, the students speak in English to each other (because we look stupid if we don’t know something) and stumble over our words when speaking to our host families where no one can see us. Like all study abroad programs, everyone will be everyone’s best friend for the next few days, and going to get a drink with your friend will turn into a excursion where you go to get drinks with 20 friends and you walk an extra mile very slowly because nobody actually knows where they are going.
But Santiago will welcome you with open arms and a kiss! When Leslie, Jeff, and I made it through an hour long wait in customs after our flight, the cab driver and a tour guide climbed in the van to take us to our host families homes. Our tour guide happily chatted about all the things to see in Santiago (while pointing out that, of course, only gringos go there) and how green Santiago was and how nice Santiago’s roads were, while the driver focused on getting us to the outskirts/suburbs of Santiago. When we pulled up to the apartment at midnight, my host mom was waiting for me at the door (which made me wonder if she had been waiting there since 10 that morning.) She brought me upstairs and introduced me to her youngest daughter and her dogs, while explaining that the rest of the family would be in tomorrow night; and I crawled into bed.
The next morning, I met Ilana and Tonya, the two other girls from the Stanford program who are living in the apartment complex. We took La Migra, the local Chilean bus to school, where we were welcomed by Fabia, who was bouncy and told us everything we needed to know about Chile, which has lasted for about one week now. Everyday starts with all of us deprived of caffeine and slightly overwhelmed by the whirlwind bus ride to “the center.” The shock of the bus ride is followed by a torrent of information about Chile and its specific traditions, interspersed with the first classes of the week. The nights are a combination of trying to get to know my family and meeting up with people from Stanford. Because it’s the first week, everyone is going out, to bars, to dancing, to karaoke. Despite the crazy nightlife catering to American tourists, everyone seems to be getting to know their family and the habits that there family has, talking to their children, etc, even though they’re in the Center all day.
This weekend we are heading out to Viña, where I have determined there will be dancing. And salsa dancing tonight, and a possible hip-hop studio! Balia en todo el mundo! Muchos besitos!
Saturday, January 6, 2007
Delayed
Everything in Texas is large. The state is large. The Dallas airport is large. Even the Gaylord Hotel is large. In fact, it's enormous. It has 1100 rooms. But, the Gaylord Hotel in Tennesse is larger it has 3000 rooms (take that, Texas!). The man at the front desk said that 3000 rooms might be a little excessive.
Why should I care about the Gaylord Hotel? Because they, courtsey of American Airlines, are making sure I get a good 3 hours of sleep before my flight to Santiago tomorrow morning.
We were already in the car this morning when my phone rang. "We would just like to inform you that your 12:40 flight to Dallas has been cancelled. Your new flight time is at 2:45. You will arrive in Dallas at 8:50 to make your 9:20 flight to Santiago." There was no realistic chance of actually making that flight which involved finding and rechecking my baggage and changing terminals in 1/2 hour. So I turned to my dad and said "My flight is cancelled." My mom said "Oh." And Paul gave SFO a look of death.
However, the lady who checked me in was awesome; she explained that I would in fact be able to make my flight (it landed at 8:15, not 8:50, and it didn't change terminals) and didn't charge me for my overweight baggage (yay!). It was decided that I would spend most of my layover in SFO, not Dallas. So we went out for lunch at Brothers' Deli, which was right down the block from our house when I was 6 and boasts the best kosher menu in the Bay Area. All was well and after lunch, my flight arrived to Dallas on time.
However, there was no need to worry previously about whether or not I would make the short connection, because the flight was delayed until 11, due to "mechanical problems, it had to emergency land in Chicago and then we had to de-ice the plane, but it's in the air now and should land shortly." I don't actually know if the plane landed because they decided to cancel the flight until 8 am and would bus us to the Gaylord hotel for the remainder of the evening.
In the meantime, I found Leslie, who I lived with freshman year, and we met another guy on the program, Jeff. We bonded over our common misfortune. And spent the evening wandering the atrium of the Gaylord and enjoying their Christmas decorations and discussing potential activities for Santiago. I am tired now and have to get on a bus at six in the morning. So that is all.
Why should I care about the Gaylord Hotel? Because they, courtsey of American Airlines, are making sure I get a good 3 hours of sleep before my flight to Santiago tomorrow morning.
We were already in the car this morning when my phone rang. "We would just like to inform you that your 12:40 flight to Dallas has been cancelled. Your new flight time is at 2:45. You will arrive in Dallas at 8:50 to make your 9:20 flight to Santiago." There was no realistic chance of actually making that flight which involved finding and rechecking my baggage and changing terminals in 1/2 hour. So I turned to my dad and said "My flight is cancelled." My mom said "Oh." And Paul gave SFO a look of death.
However, the lady who checked me in was awesome; she explained that I would in fact be able to make my flight (it landed at 8:15, not 8:50, and it didn't change terminals) and didn't charge me for my overweight baggage (yay!). It was decided that I would spend most of my layover in SFO, not Dallas. So we went out for lunch at Brothers' Deli, which was right down the block from our house when I was 6 and boasts the best kosher menu in the Bay Area. All was well and after lunch, my flight arrived to Dallas on time.
However, there was no need to worry previously about whether or not I would make the short connection, because the flight was delayed until 11, due to "mechanical problems, it had to emergency land in Chicago and then we had to de-ice the plane, but it's in the air now and should land shortly." I don't actually know if the plane landed because they decided to cancel the flight until 8 am and would bus us to the Gaylord hotel for the remainder of the evening.
In the meantime, I found Leslie, who I lived with freshman year, and we met another guy on the program, Jeff. We bonded over our common misfortune. And spent the evening wandering the atrium of the Gaylord and enjoying their Christmas decorations and discussing potential activities for Santiago. I am tired now and have to get on a bus at six in the morning. So that is all.
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