Can you tell it has raind nonstop since this morning by the number of blog posts.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Tomorrow - Valdivia
Can you tell it has raind nonstop since this morning by the number of blog posts.
Gringo vs. Chilean on Strays
I´m suddenly intrigued by the striking difference between how the US handles strays and how the chileans do. I came across the following exchange on a forum discussing this very topic.
Gringo
No place in Chile have I seen street dogs like you find in Mexico or Guatemala. You very rarely see their ribs showing in Chile. I have also seen neighborhoods in Santiago where all the people owned dogs, and they all took care of the street dogs in the local Park. They would invite the street dogs home for lunch and take them to the vet when they had problems. These dogs where just part of the neighborhood, and lived in the bushes. Other than that they were like any of the other dog. They even had names.
It is a political problem in that the local governments are not taking care of the public health issues of controlling street dogs. Street dogs are not on any high priority list when the real political battles are over how streets will be paved and who will pave them.
Chilan
Your opinion is basically right but makes me realize how diferent are gringo and latino view in some issues. For most of us (chileans), I guess, stray dogs are not a problem at all, they have a good life living in freedom, maybe better than some pets confined in small spaces as many chileans use to keep them.
Maybe Chile is not a poor country but many of us think that goverment money has many priorities other than take care for stray dogs, paved roads is a good example! This may explain why goverment is not to worried about street dogs.
Gringo
No place in Chile have I seen street dogs like you find in Mexico or Guatemala. You very rarely see their ribs showing in Chile. I have also seen neighborhoods in Santiago where all the people owned dogs, and they all took care of the street dogs in the local Park. They would invite the street dogs home for lunch and take them to the vet when they had problems. These dogs where just part of the neighborhood, and lived in the bushes. Other than that they were like any of the other dog. They even had names.
It is a political problem in that the local governments are not taking care of the public health issues of controlling street dogs. Street dogs are not on any high priority list when the real political battles are over how streets will be paved and who will pave them.
Chilan
Your opinion is basically right but makes me realize how diferent are gringo and latino view in some issues. For most of us (chileans), I guess, stray dogs are not a problem at all, they have a good life living in freedom, maybe better than some pets confined in small spaces as many chileans use to keep them.
Maybe Chile is not a poor country but many of us think that goverment money has many priorities other than take care for stray dogs, paved roads is a good example! This may explain why goverment is not to worried about street dogs.
Dogs on Colo Colo street
So after I affirm through my blog that I´m destined to work for the welfare of dogs the rest of my life, I put on my rain gear, and leave the sleepy house on colo colo street to explore the town of Pucon.
I turn my first corner and there are at least half a dozen sleeping dogs outside a cyber cafe. I quietly remove my camera, but then one by one, in speed-of-light quickness, the dogs pop there heads up and run toward me. Like well behaved house dogs (at first) they surround me in a sit pose. Looking affectionately up at me as if waiting for what´s is owed them-treats!
I stand there until one of them slowly crawls up and onto me, legs pressed against my stomach, nose in the air as if trying to determine my breakfast. I was a little concerned, and started to walk away, but like a herd of elephants protecting their baby, they followed me. Every cafe I tried to enter, to escape them, was closed.
Then I remembered I had snacks in the side pockets of my pack. I stopped to throw them in deeper into my pack, and the barking began. One would purposely run into me and the other would be waiting to receive me and nudge me with his nose. The Chileans watched me without concern, either this was the norm or they enjoyed watching an american in peril.
I tried to cross the street but a car cut me off. At this, the dogs ran screaming after the car, biting at its tires, blocking it from going further until the car reved it´s engine and tore through them (thankfully none of them got hit).
This is my chance! I thought, and I made a break for la casa de buen pan, which had just opened. The dogs ran up to the door and when I thought they´d sprint into the pastry shop and knock over the display of postres, they just haulted at the doorway and sat, smiling, waiting for me. I ordered my coffee. They sat, waiting. I ordered a cookie. They sat, waiting. I read my book. They sat, waiting. Another person walked by with FOOD and they SAT, WAITING!
Finally, they tired of waiting and returned to their dorm outside the cyber cafe, and passed out. I will show you all pictures of this gang de pucon perros when I return. Soy una dama de los perros.
I turn my first corner and there are at least half a dozen sleeping dogs outside a cyber cafe. I quietly remove my camera, but then one by one, in speed-of-light quickness, the dogs pop there heads up and run toward me. Like well behaved house dogs (at first) they surround me in a sit pose. Looking affectionately up at me as if waiting for what´s is owed them-treats!
I stand there until one of them slowly crawls up and onto me, legs pressed against my stomach, nose in the air as if trying to determine my breakfast. I was a little concerned, and started to walk away, but like a herd of elephants protecting their baby, they followed me. Every cafe I tried to enter, to escape them, was closed.
Then I remembered I had snacks in the side pockets of my pack. I stopped to throw them in deeper into my pack, and the barking began. One would purposely run into me and the other would be waiting to receive me and nudge me with his nose. The Chileans watched me without concern, either this was the norm or they enjoyed watching an american in peril.
I tried to cross the street but a car cut me off. At this, the dogs ran screaming after the car, biting at its tires, blocking it from going further until the car reved it´s engine and tore through them (thankfully none of them got hit).
This is my chance! I thought, and I made a break for la casa de buen pan, which had just opened. The dogs ran up to the door and when I thought they´d sprint into the pastry shop and knock over the display of postres, they just haulted at the doorway and sat, smiling, waiting for me. I ordered my coffee. They sat, waiting. I ordered a cookie. They sat, waiting. I read my book. They sat, waiting. Another person walked by with FOOD and they SAT, WAITING!
Finally, they tired of waiting and returned to their dorm outside the cyber cafe, and passed out. I will show you all pictures of this gang de pucon perros when I return. Soy una dama de los perros.
Perros de mi corozon
People say you should do what you love, that way it doesn´t feel like work. A tiny or enormous part of this trip, whether I admit it or not, is that I´m in search of something, some way I can help. I´ve flirted with the peace corps by filling out an application (they keep sending me love letters which I´ve ignored), I´ve always wanted to be a teacher but they don´t need english teachers these days, and if altruism paid I´d be a volunteer the rest of my life, but I can´t accept being a consultant for the next 20 years (if I come close to suicide a few times), or 40 years (if I pace myself and retire at the ¨normal¨ age).
Oddly enough, having only been here 6 days, I´m starting to realize what I love. And it´s not people so much as it is animals. The stray dogs here are not what you´d expect. They aren´t snarling, flea-covered beasts, with glossy eyes and patches of missing fur. They are shaggy, beautiful muts who wag their tails or twitch an ear when you approach. They don´t beg, they cleverly and patiently sit outside stores, or make friends with vendors selling nuts or empanadas (you never see a dog by a FRUTAS stand).
These dogs have let me take countless pictures of them. How could I not - they are on every street in every Chilean town. I asked my guide last night, if these dogs belong to someone. No, she said, they are all free and wild but they manage quite well, even in the dessert. The bus driver, Jorge, chimed in ¨Only in Chile do these dogs stay free (interesting that they call it free and not stray). Not in Peru, he says, as he motions his hand toward his mouth with a piece of bread, implying that in Peru, dogs are food. The bus driver follows this gesture with a hearty laugh and goes back to drinking his Orange Crush.
So I started wondering about these dogs. They don´t look starved and they seem to have several partial owners - street vendors, workers who pass them every day on the way to work, and school children, who the dogs seem to especially like for the crumbs in their pockets. They obviously aren´t treated the way dogs are treated in the US. Dogs there are babies, children, members of the family. With their own rooms, down comforters, eating lounges, scheduled hair cuts and manicures, and several doctors visits yearly). Dogs here are free to be dogs. But with freedom comes danger, and these dogs face danger every day in the form of cars, other less friendly dogs, people who are anti-dog, just to name a few.
In my two days in Santiago I passed one dog in particular who, although sleeping, managed to dive into my chest and rip out my heart. He was small, a cattle dog-lab mix perhaps, he had short fur unlike most other dogs, and he always seemed to sleep peacefully next to this one street vendor who sold papers, magazines, and snacks. As I looked closer I noticed a huge gash on the inside of his left leg - red, gaping, and very infected. I wanted to lure him to a vet, or run back to my first aid kit and treat it with neosporin and gauze, or pay the vendor to take him in, but I didn´t do it. Not even after watching him hobble on three legs around the nearby courtyard as school children giggled past carrying their lunches, hoping for a scrap.
I need to do something for these dogs. I´m not sure what it is yet, but I´ll think of something. And when I do, I´ll let you know.
Oddly enough, having only been here 6 days, I´m starting to realize what I love. And it´s not people so much as it is animals. The stray dogs here are not what you´d expect. They aren´t snarling, flea-covered beasts, with glossy eyes and patches of missing fur. They are shaggy, beautiful muts who wag their tails or twitch an ear when you approach. They don´t beg, they cleverly and patiently sit outside stores, or make friends with vendors selling nuts or empanadas (you never see a dog by a FRUTAS stand).
These dogs have let me take countless pictures of them. How could I not - they are on every street in every Chilean town. I asked my guide last night, if these dogs belong to someone. No, she said, they are all free and wild but they manage quite well, even in the dessert. The bus driver, Jorge, chimed in ¨Only in Chile do these dogs stay free (interesting that they call it free and not stray). Not in Peru, he says, as he motions his hand toward his mouth with a piece of bread, implying that in Peru, dogs are food. The bus driver follows this gesture with a hearty laugh and goes back to drinking his Orange Crush.
So I started wondering about these dogs. They don´t look starved and they seem to have several partial owners - street vendors, workers who pass them every day on the way to work, and school children, who the dogs seem to especially like for the crumbs in their pockets. They obviously aren´t treated the way dogs are treated in the US. Dogs there are babies, children, members of the family. With their own rooms, down comforters, eating lounges, scheduled hair cuts and manicures, and several doctors visits yearly). Dogs here are free to be dogs. But with freedom comes danger, and these dogs face danger every day in the form of cars, other less friendly dogs, people who are anti-dog, just to name a few.
In my two days in Santiago I passed one dog in particular who, although sleeping, managed to dive into my chest and rip out my heart. He was small, a cattle dog-lab mix perhaps, he had short fur unlike most other dogs, and he always seemed to sleep peacefully next to this one street vendor who sold papers, magazines, and snacks. As I looked closer I noticed a huge gash on the inside of his left leg - red, gaping, and very infected. I wanted to lure him to a vet, or run back to my first aid kit and treat it with neosporin and gauze, or pay the vendor to take him in, but I didn´t do it. Not even after watching him hobble on three legs around the nearby courtyard as school children giggled past carrying their lunches, hoping for a scrap.
I need to do something for these dogs. I´m not sure what it is yet, but I´ll think of something. And when I do, I´ll let you know.
lluvia, lluvia, sale, se vuelve por favor otro día
Rain, Rain, go away, please come back another day.
The bus ride south has been muy interesante. The best part so far is that I learned how to ask for more toilet paper - mas confor (it´s the brand name of the toilet paper they use) and that in Chilean spanish, you take the s off pretty much every word - por ejemplo Gracia, not Gracias.
You know something´s up when learning how to say toilet paper in spanish is your favorite part of the trip. On our first stop, to the rapel dam, the water wasn´t flowing so it just looked like a big ditch. Then, on our drive to Puntos De Lobos (surf capital of Chile) it was so foggy you couldn´t see anything. Yesterday, on our 10 hour drive south to Pucon, we got lost on the way to Santa Cruz, and once there, got turned around by an accident in which three people were killed by a chemical truck.
And so today, I continue my streak de buena suerte with rain. Rain anticipated for the rest of the week. After I´ve booked my 110 US dollar hike up the volcano. I was quite looking forward to that - to using crampons and ice axes, and skiing down with austrians and canadians! It´s just rain people! I climb mountains in the rain!
Pucon means entrance to the mountains in Quechua, which less than 5,000 people still speak. Above is a picture (No, I didn´t take it). So far I only take pictures of dogs. More on dogs in a bit...
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Empanadas, Dulce de Leche and Internet
All I can find to eat around here are empanadas and dulce de leche cakes, pies, cookies, etc. But there´s a computer with internet at every street corner and most definitely in every hostal.
It´s great because I can catalogue all that has happened, but it´s hard because most of the time the keyboards are so old and overused that I have to strike the space bar ten times for it to actually impart a space on the screen. And instead of a dash I get an Ñ.
So pardon the misspellings and lack of commas.
And when I return, pardone the 10 pounds I gain from a strict diet of carbs.
Well, we made it to the surf town of Pichilemu. Nothing much here but this hostal, a panaderia (yeah, mas dulce de leche), a bunch of stray dogs, and beach, so I´m going for a run on the beach.
It´s great because I can catalogue all that has happened, but it´s hard because most of the time the keyboards are so old and overused that I have to strike the space bar ten times for it to actually impart a space on the screen. And instead of a dash I get an Ñ.
So pardon the misspellings and lack of commas.
And when I return, pardone the 10 pounds I gain from a strict diet of carbs.
Well, we made it to the surf town of Pichilemu. Nothing much here but this hostal, a panaderia (yeah, mas dulce de leche), a bunch of stray dogs, and beach, so I´m going for a run on the beach.
Walker, Florida Traveler
10-29
415PM
I couldn´t sleep last night, dreaming about the pending adventures. Visions of a bus full of young and adventurous travelers.
At 9 a.m., Beotcha (pronounced b. archer, of Cologne, Germany) was the only other person on the bus. She, like several other 40ish women I´d encountered was taking a year off to travel around the world. ¨We´re picking up one other person in Bellavista, that´s it until Puerto Montt¨ our guide Nicole informed us.
We pulled up to a hostal, both of us eager to meet our final compadre, when a man in his 60´s, wearing bright orange, sauntered onto the bus. He introduced himself as Walker, from St. Augustine FL.
While the german was a little harder to get to know, I learned a lot about Walker. He sold his hotels to Extended Stay America and retired somewhat unexpectedly at 45. ¨Everything happened at once. I sold the company,got divorced and my kids graduated from school.¨ I was going to sail around the world, but then I took a class and realized it was too damn difficult, too many unknowns to contend with. So I took up traveling around the world by bus, air and foot.¨
Walker lamented how he too was the only American in his hostal, ¨Americans don´t travel like they used to. They just want to make money.¨
Walker has been to Spain, Thailand, New Zealand, Egypt and now Chile, in the span one year. He says he never plans his trips, just books the ticket and goes. He leaned in toward me, his ivory necklace emerging from his neon orange shirt, ¨I saw your pack. You´will learn in about a week that you don´t need all that stuff.¨
415PM
I couldn´t sleep last night, dreaming about the pending adventures. Visions of a bus full of young and adventurous travelers.
At 9 a.m., Beotcha (pronounced b. archer, of Cologne, Germany) was the only other person on the bus. She, like several other 40ish women I´d encountered was taking a year off to travel around the world. ¨We´re picking up one other person in Bellavista, that´s it until Puerto Montt¨ our guide Nicole informed us.
We pulled up to a hostal, both of us eager to meet our final compadre, when a man in his 60´s, wearing bright orange, sauntered onto the bus. He introduced himself as Walker, from St. Augustine FL.
While the german was a little harder to get to know, I learned a lot about Walker. He sold his hotels to Extended Stay America and retired somewhat unexpectedly at 45. ¨Everything happened at once. I sold the company,got divorced and my kids graduated from school.¨ I was going to sail around the world, but then I took a class and realized it was too damn difficult, too many unknowns to contend with. So I took up traveling around the world by bus, air and foot.¨
Walker lamented how he too was the only American in his hostal, ¨Americans don´t travel like they used to. They just want to make money.¨
Walker has been to Spain, Thailand, New Zealand, Egypt and now Chile, in the span one year. He says he never plans his trips, just books the ticket and goes. He leaned in toward me, his ivory necklace emerging from his neon orange shirt, ¨I saw your pack. You´will learn in about a week that you don´t need all that stuff.¨
Tagging Pumas
10/29
8:15AM
I got an email yesterday from Mark, one of the lead volunteers down at the Park (Conservacion Patagonica). He thought I was still in the USA and wondered if I could bring him back a few supplies (totaling around 20 pounds):
-2 puma collars
-battery packs
-tree climbing spurs
-GPS Unit
PUMA COLLARS? PUMA COLLARS? PUMA COLLARS?
Off I go.
8:15AM
I got an email yesterday from Mark, one of the lead volunteers down at the Park (Conservacion Patagonica). He thought I was still in the USA and wondered if I could bring him back a few supplies (totaling around 20 pounds):
-2 puma collars
-battery packs
-tree climbing spurs
-GPS Unit
PUMA COLLARS? PUMA COLLARS? PUMA COLLARS?
Off I go.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Get on the bus
10/28
8PM
Pachamama meant earth goddess to the incas of ancient peru. It's the name of the bus I'll be taking south for the next 5 days. I'm not sure I'll have internet, so here's a rough itinerary of where I'll be:
10/29 - Santiago to Pichilemu (*220 km). Then to punta de lobos where the best surfing on the chilean coast is. For 16 US I can take a surfing lesson, but I think I'll go horseback riding instead.
10/30 and 10/31 - 707 km to Pucon and Villarica Volcano. I might go mountain biking!
11/01 - Valdivia. On the ocean. Beaches. Enough said.
11/02 - 210 km to Puerto Montt and Puerto Varas - per the advice of prade, I'm going to stay in Puerto Varas, and aim to catch a bus or ferry toward Coyhaique on 11/04 (wed).
The pachamama thing is so well organized all the hostals are already picked for you and food is supplied along the way. Happy Mom?
Still have a raging headache, off to retrieve some advil.
Chao for now!
8PM
Pachamama meant earth goddess to the incas of ancient peru. It's the name of the bus I'll be taking south for the next 5 days. I'm not sure I'll have internet, so here's a rough itinerary of where I'll be:
10/29 - Santiago to Pichilemu (*220 km). Then to punta de lobos where the best surfing on the chilean coast is. For 16 US I can take a surfing lesson, but I think I'll go horseback riding instead.
10/30 and 10/31 - 707 km to Pucon and Villarica Volcano. I might go mountain biking!
11/01 - Valdivia. On the ocean. Beaches. Enough said.
11/02 - 210 km to Puerto Montt and Puerto Varas - per the advice of prade, I'm going to stay in Puerto Varas, and aim to catch a bus or ferry toward Coyhaique on 11/04 (wed).
The pachamama thing is so well organized all the hostals are already picked for you and food is supplied along the way. Happy Mom?
Still have a raging headache, off to retrieve some advil.
Chao for now!
I smell
Amidst a sea of boys watching monkeys at the zoo, i was sure it was them (monkeys or boys all the same) but it was me! I smell! Like a teenage boy after gym class, wearing too many layers! Smelling like this just means I finally made it. I'm here. Wearing the same clothes on day 3 and happy as can be.
Bellavista! Zoologica! Museo!
The day started with a hot shower and a change of underwear (yeah!). The little pleasures in life...
Carla shared her breakfast of oats, yogurt and banana with me and then we headed to the museum of pre-columbian art. We at lunch at trendy Golindo and even ordered wine "We're on holiday so it's okay" Carla reassured me.
We took the funicular San Cristobal, built in 1922, up the 240 meters to a terrace with wonderful views of the city (albeit quite smoggy). On the way down, we visited the zoo.
It's hot in Santiago. And today was the first day i went without coffee. Driven by a raging headache I headed back to Barrio Brasil for a cafe con leche. Out came a glass of warm milk and the waiter and I did sign language until I discovered I was to add spoonfuls of cafe to the leche until the desired strength was reached. It sucked, so I chugged it and headed somewhere else for another one.
El Cafe got it right with a wonderful Cafe de Baileys. Headache is still raging but at least I've got a buzz now ;)
Carla shared her breakfast of oats, yogurt and banana with me and then we headed to the museum of pre-columbian art. We at lunch at trendy Golindo and even ordered wine "We're on holiday so it's okay" Carla reassured me.
We took the funicular San Cristobal, built in 1922, up the 240 meters to a terrace with wonderful views of the city (albeit quite smoggy). On the way down, we visited the zoo.
It's hot in Santiago. And today was the first day i went without coffee. Driven by a raging headache I headed back to Barrio Brasil for a cafe con leche. Out came a glass of warm milk and the waiter and I did sign language until I discovered I was to add spoonfuls of cafe to the leche until the desired strength was reached. It sucked, so I chugged it and headed somewhere else for another one.
El Cafe got it right with a wonderful Cafe de Baileys. Headache is still raging but at least I've got a buzz now ;)
No Americans in Chile
My bunk mates are mates indeed; mostly from Australia. The others are from Holland, England or New Zealand, but I have yet to meet a fellow American. For some reason this seems odd to me.
After a dinner of gnocchi and vino tinto at Sole Mio, I headed back to the hostal, where Carla the 21 year old Hawk's Bay New Zealander sat in our room. "What are you up to tonight" she asked as I reached into a bag and pulled out a box of wine (yeah I said box - it's chile!). "Care to join me?" She replied: "Sure, but i'm buying tomorrow night."
I learned that Carla spent 2 months in Peru and Chile, volunteering in a small Peruvian village with special needs kids and living with a host family. As an art major, she is going to continue her studies when she gets home.
We got along well and decided to spend tomorrow touring the city.
-
After a dinner of gnocchi and vino tinto at Sole Mio, I headed back to the hostal, where Carla the 21 year old Hawk's Bay New Zealander sat in our room. "What are you up to tonight" she asked as I reached into a bag and pulled out a box of wine (yeah I said box - it's chile!). "Care to join me?" She replied: "Sure, but i'm buying tomorrow night."
I learned that Carla spent 2 months in Peru and Chile, volunteering in a small Peruvian village with special needs kids and living with a host family. As an art major, she is going to continue her studies when she gets home.
We got along well and decided to spend tomorrow touring the city.
-
Olives for lunch; 300 pesos for a pee
10/27
1 PM
Being a vegetarian is hard in Chile. The fat cow restaurant sits just a block from my hostal. So italian was my fare of choice today, and I ordered a Pizza Margherita, which back home is dough, cheese and sauce. Not in Chile.
A small pie covered in olives arrived. I don't like olives, but luckily I'm tolerant of them. Especially when breakfast was served at 5 am on the plan and I'm starving.
At 4 bucks, though, I was satisfied with my lunch and wasted the rest of the day taking pictures of stray dogs (they are on every street corner and I believe most of them have owners) and absorbing the culture shock.
Did you know you can't flush paper down the toilets here? You throw them in a waste basket. And downtown you have to pay 300 pesos (70ish cents) to use el bano.
Peeing is pricey.
1 PM
Being a vegetarian is hard in Chile. The fat cow restaurant sits just a block from my hostal. So italian was my fare of choice today, and I ordered a Pizza Margherita, which back home is dough, cheese and sauce. Not in Chile.
A small pie covered in olives arrived. I don't like olives, but luckily I'm tolerant of them. Especially when breakfast was served at 5 am on the plan and I'm starving.
At 4 bucks, though, I was satisfied with my lunch and wasted the rest of the day taking pictures of stray dogs (they are on every street corner and I believe most of them have owners) and absorbing the culture shock.
Did you know you can't flush paper down the toilets here? You throw them in a waste basket. And downtown you have to pay 300 pesos (70ish cents) to use el bano.
Peeing is pricey.
Santiago
10/27
6:45 AM
The plane landed. The sun was rising over the Andes - painting the sky with streaks of ruby red and in a touristy fashion I snapped my first pictures. Sometimes expecting the worst, although wasteful at the moment, allows you to appreciate the ease of things that happen "sin problemas."
Before I could get my pack, I had to stand in line to pay the 131 US reciprocity fee, required of Americans, Mexicans, Canadians, Australians, and a few other -ans, good for 90 days.
Next was immigracion, where the policia - all men - sat quiet and unhelpful, enjoying the foreigners expressions of confusion wondering which window to go to. The man stamped my papers and I headed in the wrong direction. "Lauren!" the man yelled, and pointed me toward baggage claim, where I collected my pack and breezed through customs.
Prade warned me about the sea of taxi drivers, and I bolted toward a man holding a TRANSVIP sign, which would take me directly to my hostal, La Casa Roja, for 9 US.
As we drove into the city, the spectacular mountain drop contrasted the litter-lined streets. Numerous bikers battled cars for rights to a lane, and before I knew it We'd arrived at the hostal. The driver struggled to lift my pack, glancing at me like I was insane for bring such an absurd amount of stuff. I tipped him 1000 pesos (2 US), hoping Chile was unlike Iceland, in which tips are insulting.
A nearly nude woman in sign form pointed me toward reception and I checked into the hostal. Room 16, bunk 5. I fell into bed. An hour later, drool forming beneath my head, dreams of hostal hippies and their antics filling my sleepy head, I woke up and made my way to the exchange house for some pesos.
and the adventure begins...
6:45 AM
The plane landed. The sun was rising over the Andes - painting the sky with streaks of ruby red and in a touristy fashion I snapped my first pictures. Sometimes expecting the worst, although wasteful at the moment, allows you to appreciate the ease of things that happen "sin problemas."
Before I could get my pack, I had to stand in line to pay the 131 US reciprocity fee, required of Americans, Mexicans, Canadians, Australians, and a few other -ans, good for 90 days.
Next was immigracion, where the policia - all men - sat quiet and unhelpful, enjoying the foreigners expressions of confusion wondering which window to go to. The man stamped my papers and I headed in the wrong direction. "Lauren!" the man yelled, and pointed me toward baggage claim, where I collected my pack and breezed through customs.
Prade warned me about the sea of taxi drivers, and I bolted toward a man holding a TRANSVIP sign, which would take me directly to my hostal, La Casa Roja, for 9 US.
As we drove into the city, the spectacular mountain drop contrasted the litter-lined streets. Numerous bikers battled cars for rights to a lane, and before I knew it We'd arrived at the hostal. The driver struggled to lift my pack, glancing at me like I was insane for bring such an absurd amount of stuff. I tipped him 1000 pesos (2 US), hoping Chile was unlike Iceland, in which tips are insulting.
A nearly nude woman in sign form pointed me toward reception and I checked into the hostal. Room 16, bunk 5. I fell into bed. An hour later, drool forming beneath my head, dreams of hostal hippies and their antics filling my sleepy head, I woke up and made my way to the exchange house for some pesos.
and the adventure begins...
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Utz (pronounced OOTZ)
A little chilean fellow came up to me while I waited for my flight out of atlanta to santiago.
At two years, he spoke more spanish than I do. He liked my Wild Things stuffed animal, small and attached to my pack. He looked at it as if about to critique some high-end art, and said "UTZ! Hola UTZ!"
I immediately pulled out my span-eng dictionary to look up UTZ and it wasn't in there. I thought maybe it meant monster or ogre.
When I looked up from the dictionary he was holding his stuffed animal, a mickey mouse, and smiled widely, "MICKAY" as if to say not only can I dominate you in spanish but your wimpy little stuffed animal ain't got nothing on Mickey!
At two years, he spoke more spanish than I do. He liked my Wild Things stuffed animal, small and attached to my pack. He looked at it as if about to critique some high-end art, and said "UTZ! Hola UTZ!"
I immediately pulled out my span-eng dictionary to look up UTZ and it wasn't in there. I thought maybe it meant monster or ogre.
When I looked up from the dictionary he was holding his stuffed animal, a mickey mouse, and smiled widely, "MICKAY" as if to say not only can I dominate you in spanish but your wimpy little stuffed animal ain't got nothing on Mickey!
Hope for the Best
10/26
Flight to Atlanta
"I've been a pilot for 33 years and this is the worst turbulence I've seen." The pilot told us this as our bellies and their contents shifted with sudden zigzags and drops, like a roller coaster. Luckily, as I was getting nervous and nauseous, I read this passage in Wild Things:
Where was he going? How long could he survive like this? His mind followed a dozen terrible paths until he realized, with some comfort, that there was nothing he could do, really, about his situation. HE COULD ONLY SAIL STRAIGHT AND HOPE FOR THE BEST.
And while I sweat bullets, this spanish guy a few seats ahead practices tying knots in a rope. I wanted to ask the attendant for a glass of guts, but settled for a coke.
Flight to Atlanta
"I've been a pilot for 33 years and this is the worst turbulence I've seen." The pilot told us this as our bellies and their contents shifted with sudden zigzags and drops, like a roller coaster. Luckily, as I was getting nervous and nauseous, I read this passage in Wild Things:
Where was he going? How long could he survive like this? His mind followed a dozen terrible paths until he realized, with some comfort, that there was nothing he could do, really, about his situation. HE COULD ONLY SAIL STRAIGHT AND HOPE FOR THE BEST.
And while I sweat bullets, this spanish guy a few seats ahead practices tying knots in a rope. I wanted to ask the attendant for a glass of guts, but settled for a coke.
Be a Wild Thing
10/26
Denver Airpot, Gate C42
Jeff took me out to dinner the night before I left - Brasserie Ten Ten - our favorite restaurant in Boulder. He asked "What are you looking forward to the most?" I responded "Having time to think, to reflect, to figure out how I'll do in an unfamiliar situation."
And as I sat at gate C42, awaiting my flight to Atlanta, I'm reading "The Wild Things" by Dave Eggers and think to myself, "It's finally my time to be a wild thing - to do what I want, when I want, how I want, where I want, but most importantly, to be who I want to be."
Denver Airpot, Gate C42
Jeff took me out to dinner the night before I left - Brasserie Ten Ten - our favorite restaurant in Boulder. He asked "What are you looking forward to the most?" I responded "Having time to think, to reflect, to figure out how I'll do in an unfamiliar situation."
And as I sat at gate C42, awaiting my flight to Atlanta, I'm reading "The Wild Things" by Dave Eggers and think to myself, "It's finally my time to be a wild thing - to do what I want, when I want, how I want, where I want, but most importantly, to be who I want to be."
Making Weight
10/26
Denver Airport
Even as a planner I've found it extremely challenging to prepare for this trip. Of course being a procrastinator doesn't help, but I've never traveled alone or to South America. I packed and unpacked my bag three times - the last on the way to the airport in the backseat of Jeff's car. I opted against three emergency meals (all vegetarian), forcing myself to find food out there and perhaps go more than 3 or 4 hours without a meal (gasp!). I also left behind a stuff sack with extra clothing, including a wind-breaker.
As I checked into my flight, my pack weighed in at 43 pounds - not bad for 6 weeks worth of travel. My luggage usually weighs that much or more for a few nights of business travel - to New Mexico or New Orleans!
My first worry came to me as I watched my pack roll down the belt - the didn't have any bags - uncovered; exposed; rolling away from me; my life for the next 47 days; my house; my bed; my clothing. And all I could do was say "chao."
Denver Airport
Even as a planner I've found it extremely challenging to prepare for this trip. Of course being a procrastinator doesn't help, but I've never traveled alone or to South America. I packed and unpacked my bag three times - the last on the way to the airport in the backseat of Jeff's car. I opted against three emergency meals (all vegetarian), forcing myself to find food out there and perhaps go more than 3 or 4 hours without a meal (gasp!). I also left behind a stuff sack with extra clothing, including a wind-breaker.
As I checked into my flight, my pack weighed in at 43 pounds - not bad for 6 weeks worth of travel. My luggage usually weighs that much or more for a few nights of business travel - to New Mexico or New Orleans!
My first worry came to me as I watched my pack roll down the belt - the didn't have any bags - uncovered; exposed; rolling away from me; my life for the next 47 days; my house; my bed; my clothing. And all I could do was say "chao."
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Chocolates and Beer!!!
Paula has been a reassuring voice since Feb. 23rd 2009, when I emailed her about the volunteer program. I recently asked her if I need to bring a stove (which also means fuel)and food, which would add several pounds to my pack (think poundage of a well-fed 10-year-old).
Here's what she said:
---
Hi Lauren
Ok with the Dates!, we can meet in Coyahique at Nov. 6th, I can help you with the hostal reservation in coyhaique if you wants (have from $30 to 100 USD).
For the volunteer camp you don´t need a stove. By some food what do you like (chocolates, beer, etc.??) we cover all the meals and picnic food too.
See you soon!!
Paula
---
Haha - yep! By food I meant Chocolates and Beer!
Another cool thing? I can pay the $15/day for food ($315 for 3 weeks) in the form of a donation to Conservacion Patagonia. Done and Done. The less money I have to shove in my money belt the better.
Here's what she said:
---
Hi Lauren
Ok with the Dates!, we can meet in Coyahique at Nov. 6th, I can help you with the hostal reservation in coyhaique if you wants (have from $30 to 100 USD).
For the volunteer camp you don´t need a stove. By some food what do you like (chocolates, beer, etc.??) we cover all the meals and picnic food too.
See you soon!!
Paula
---
Haha - yep! By food I meant Chocolates and Beer!
Another cool thing? I can pay the $15/day for food ($315 for 3 weeks) in the form of a donation to Conservacion Patagonia. Done and Done. The less money I have to shove in my money belt the better.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Conservacion Patagonia
Sometime in the first week of November I WILL make it to Cochrane, my target destination and base camp for Conservacion Patagonia. To find out the details visit http://conservacionpatagonica.org/volunteer_information.htm
From November 7th-ish - November 28th-ish (three weeks)I will be living in the Patagonian Backcountry (4 days on, 2 days off)doing fence removal, exotic plant control and seed collection.
Mom: this is for you:
In the case of an emergency, contact Paula Herrera, the Volunteer Manager (English or Spanish) via e-mail pherrera@conservacionpatagonica.cl or telephone 56 65 970833 (Park).
As for the last week in Chile - I have no idea what I'll be doing - perhaps I'll travel farther south to Torres Del Paine. Perhaps I'll slowly make my way back up north, seeing what I missed on the way down. I know Chile has some rad bouldering spots - is there room in my pack for climbing shoes? ALWAYS!
From November 7th-ish - November 28th-ish (three weeks)I will be living in the Patagonian Backcountry (4 days on, 2 days off)doing fence removal, exotic plant control and seed collection.
Mom: this is for you:
In the case of an emergency, contact Paula Herrera, the Volunteer Manager (English or Spanish) via e-mail pherrera@conservacionpatagonica.cl or telephone 56 65 970833 (Park).
As for the last week in Chile - I have no idea what I'll be doing - perhaps I'll travel farther south to Torres Del Paine. Perhaps I'll slowly make my way back up north, seeing what I missed on the way down. I know Chile has some rad bouldering spots - is there room in my pack for climbing shoes? ALWAYS!
PUERTO MONTT to COCHRANE (?)
This is where the trip gets tricky.
The original plan was to stay in Puerto Montt for two nights - but there's not much to see. In fact, the neighboring port - Punto Arenas - is more of a traveler's destination. I do know the place I need to get to next is Chacabuco and I can get there by Ferry or Bus.
I was originally thinking the ferry would be a neat way to get there, but I'm not sure if it leaves Wednesday 11/04 as I had hoped - it may not leave until Saturday 11/07. Plus, it's around 150 for a "berth." This is bunk-style quarters. It takes a day to get to Chacabuco.
My other option is a bus. A 24-hour bus. James, a fellow volunteer who's already made it down there has cautioned me against the bus saying it's bumpy and nauseating. He also said not knowing spanish will be a "hell of a time."
Once I get to chacabuco I take a 2 hour bus to Coyhaique, sleep there, and the next day take a bus to cochrane (entrada baker crossing).
I'd like to say this will be my first big challenge, but I'm positive I'll have many many many many prior challenges!
The original plan was to stay in Puerto Montt for two nights - but there's not much to see. In fact, the neighboring port - Punto Arenas - is more of a traveler's destination. I do know the place I need to get to next is Chacabuco and I can get there by Ferry or Bus.
I was originally thinking the ferry would be a neat way to get there, but I'm not sure if it leaves Wednesday 11/04 as I had hoped - it may not leave until Saturday 11/07. Plus, it's around 150 for a "berth." This is bunk-style quarters. It takes a day to get to Chacabuco.
My other option is a bus. A 24-hour bus. James, a fellow volunteer who's already made it down there has cautioned me against the bus saying it's bumpy and nauseating. He also said not knowing spanish will be a "hell of a time."
Once I get to chacabuco I take a 2 hour bus to Coyhaique, sleep there, and the next day take a bus to cochrane (entrada baker crossing).
I'd like to say this will be my first big challenge, but I'm positive I'll have many many many many prior challenges!
PACHAMAMA BUS
I'll be in Santiago Chile 10/27 and 10/28 - I could have taken a direct flight to Balmaceda - Region XI of Patagonia Chile - but decided it would be best to at least see Santiago. I hear it's very European and there are some must-check-out restaurants, museums and wineries which will surely occupy me for a couple days.
On Thursday 10/29 I hop on the Pachamama bus, which will take me through the lake district of Chile over the span of 5 days. I'll exit at Puerto Montt on Monday 11/02where I've booked two nights at a hostel.
Here's how the Pachamama works:
The only hop-on, hop-off transportation pass available that takes you to see the best of Chile’s natural attractions. Pachamama by Bus Lake district Route is designed for independent travelers who want to spend more time at destinations along the way. This route offers you the opportunity to go swimming, skiing, rafting, fishing or to just relax.
http://www.pachamamabybus.com/rutasur.php
10/29: Santiago - Pomaire - Rapel Dam - Punta Lobos - Pichilemu
10/30: Pichilemu - Santa Cruz & Museum - Villarrrica Lake - Pucón
10/31: Pucón - Ojos del Caburgua waterfalls & Lake - Pozones Hot Springs - Pucón
11/01: Pucón - Villarrica - 7 lakes Route - Valdivia
11/02: Valdivia - Llanquihue Lake - Frutillar - Puerto Montt
On Thursday 10/29 I hop on the Pachamama bus, which will take me through the lake district of Chile over the span of 5 days. I'll exit at Puerto Montt on Monday 11/02where I've booked two nights at a hostel.
Here's how the Pachamama works:
The only hop-on, hop-off transportation pass available that takes you to see the best of Chile’s natural attractions. Pachamama by Bus Lake district Route is designed for independent travelers who want to spend more time at destinations along the way. This route offers you the opportunity to go swimming, skiing, rafting, fishing or to just relax.
http://www.pachamamabybus.com/rutasur.php
10/29: Santiago - Pomaire - Rapel Dam - Punta Lobos - Pichilemu
10/30: Pichilemu - Santa Cruz & Museum - Villarrrica Lake - Pucón
10/31: Pucón - Ojos del Caburgua waterfalls & Lake - Pozones Hot Springs - Pucón
11/01: Pucón - Villarrica - 7 lakes Route - Valdivia
11/02: Valdivia - Llanquihue Lake - Frutillar - Puerto Montt
HOSTEL INFORMATION
TUESDAY 10/27 and WEDNESDAY 10/28
La Casa Roja
Agustinas 2113
(Barrio Brasil)
Santiago
56 (02) 696 4241
info@lacasaroja.tie.cl
www.lacasaroja.cl
MONDAY 11/02 and TUESDAY 11/03
Hostal & Turismo Ancriben
Balmaceda 282 casa 7
Puerto Montt
56-65-718204
ancriben@hotmail.com
As of now, these are the only nights for which I have hostels booked. The rest is up in the air...GULP.
La Casa Roja
Agustinas 2113
(Barrio Brasil)
Santiago
56 (02) 696 4241
info@lacasaroja.tie.cl
www.lacasaroja.cl
MONDAY 11/02 and TUESDAY 11/03
Hostal & Turismo Ancriben
Balmaceda 282 casa 7
Puerto Montt
56-65-718204
ancriben@hotmail.com
As of now, these are the only nights for which I have hostels booked. The rest is up in the air...GULP.
FLIGHT INFORMATION
Outgoing Flight: Monday 10/26
Delta Airlines #1908
DENVER to ATLANTA
1PM to 8PM
ATLANTA to SANTIAGO
8PM to 7AM
Return Flight: Thursday 12/10
Delta Airlines #0147
SANTIAGO to ATLANTA
10PM to 6AM
ATLANTA to DENVER
8:30AM to 10AM
Delta Airlines #1908
DENVER to ATLANTA
1PM to 8PM
ATLANTA to SANTIAGO
8PM to 7AM
Return Flight: Thursday 12/10
Delta Airlines #0147
SANTIAGO to ATLANTA
10PM to 6AM
ATLANTA to DENVER
8:30AM to 10AM
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