Today, as I was leaving my class and walking towards the bike rack near the entrance of my facultad, I noticed a group of guys with ski masks and handfuls of various things --leaflets, maltov cocktails, you know, nothing special -- approaching the same area. Uh-oh, I thought. Better hurry. I hurried up and got to my bike, fumbling nervously (terrified-ly?) to unlock it as I watched them setting up roadblocks with chunks of wood, broken glass and burning material.
I don't know how I got so lucky, but I seemed to be able to leave just as they were starting to set things up, and didn't end up actually having any problems. However, as I crossed the road directly in front of the campus I had to ride past a road block with plenty of cars stopped behind, and I watched as a taxi driver crossed over it. As he did so, one of the guys shot his window from VERY close range with a sling shot, probably breaking it although I didn't stick around to find out for sure. I was also almost hit by a bus as it ran a red light, trying to get past them in the other lane of traffic before everything was held up completely.
I feel like the people here who do this stuff might be the biggest idiots alive. I mean seriously, who ever thinks "Boy, I know of a great political cause. There's a huge social injustice that I'd like to change -- I think I'll light shit on fire, put innocent civilians in danger, inconvenience tons of people by shutting down major roads and distract the protectors of society from fighting real crime by throwing rocks at them." Yeah, genius brain, that's really going to want to make people support your cause.
To be honest, I was actually pretty much livid. That was about 12 hours ago, now, so I've definitely cooled down, but I have to say that I was not impressed. I feel like people complain a lot about citizen apathy in the United States, and I certainly think it exists. However, I also can understand what situation has created it. We've had such a stable and relatively trustworthy national government for so long that although people may have complaints, it's not like people feel their life will change for the worse if they don't do something about it.
Here, however, a completely different atmosphere exists. I feel like it's kind of "cool" and stylish to be able to act like you're politically minded and concerned with social justice and that sort of thing. At the same time, the methodology used to express this feeling or style of thinking is so completely ridiculous and ineffective that I feel it's actually more of a style than it is a real conviction. What's more, I don't understand how, in a country with such a recent and potent history of governmental problems and abuse, people still don't understand how much more effective and stabilizing it would be for them to work with the system instead of against it. Right now, the government is a good one; they need to take advantage of that fact and use it to their benefit, both in the short term of promoting whatever cause needs promoting and in the long term of maintain that stability.
However, it seems that this sort of logic is totally lost on their terrorist-style groups of students who want to draw attention to (a) their cause and (b) their own “uber-political” selves in the most radical way possible.
Anyways. I just wrote all of this because I happened to stumble upon a few pictures of the event on the internet tonight, and I thought I’d share them. Here ya go:
http://santiago.indymedia.org/news/2006/08/55182.php
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Fin de Semana...
Last Monday was KellyAnne’s birthday, so to celebrate we threw a party at her house on Friday night. She lives in a “pension,” (it’s not actually pronounced “pension”) which is like a boarding house where quite a few international and Chilean students live, along with the family who runs it. We spend quite a bit of time hanging out there in general, and it’s really a fun environment because there are American, German, French, Swiss, Mexican and Chilean students all together usually cooking, watching TV and just generally hanging out. The party that we had on Friday night, just to make it more entertaining, was 80’s themed. It was an absolute inflexible rule that you had to arrive dressed like people dress in the 80’s, and we only listened to music from the decade. Through the week as we talked to people, especially Chileans, about the theme it became pretty obvious that they’re not really used to the idea of a dress-up party theme. They couldn’t quite believe that we were serious about having a costume, and were even a little bit stressed about the idea. However, we remained firm, and were quite pleased that night to see that everyone we invited actually arrived in 80’s attire.
In the end, there were probably 30 or so people there, which was a pretty awesome turnout considering that KellyAnne and I were kind of feeling like we don’t really know anyone except each other here. All of the Chileans seemed pretty impressed by the turnout, too –I’ve gotten the impression that they don’t really normally throw big parties here. I heard a few people coming in the door at one point see how many people were there and ask if there was a cover charge! Felipe and I (and the people we ended up having to take home) stayed until 5 in the morning (I don’t want to believe that they always seem to do it like that here, nor can I get used to it, but it seems to be a common theme.) Also, I successfully made a birthday cake for KellyAnne, which I was really quite proud about since I’ve had such a tough time baking here. It turned out really pretty good, although it was a bit burnt on the sides. However, if you consider how much fussing over it and moving it around in the oven and adjusting the temperature I had to do (after 35 minutes in the oven it was perfectly brown on the sides and top and pure dough everywhere else…that’s a challenge to save, my friends) I’m impressed by how good it actually was.
I’ll share some pictures of the party in a bit, but I have to get them from KellyAnne first because I didn’t bring my own camera.
The next day I didn’t really do anything, to be perfectly honest. As a product of the fact that I got home a little after 5, I slept until about noon. Since all of the family comes over for lunch on Saturdays (keep in mind lunch starts around 2 or 3 here) it’s usually a pretty relaxed, time wasting type of day – a nice slow start, then a really slow lunch while everyone eats and chats and enjoys the weather (we eat out on the patio a lot) – I’ve found it’s kind of hard to actually do anything on Saturdays. It’s kind of hard, because it’s simply impossible to eat fast and leave –you have to wait for the cook to bring out each course of the meal, and it would seem incredibly rude to do that anyways –and it’s the only day of the week I see Sandra and her family usually so it’s only polite to stay a while. Not to mention it’s kind of nice to sit around and enjoy the whole “family environment” thing.
However, these characteristics of Saturdays in general make it feel occasionally like my house is a time vortex, and before I’m even paying attention it’s 6 and most of the museums or things I want to see are closed (they mostly close really early on Saturdays) so I have to try and find something to do so I can feel like my “free day” wasn’t a complete loss. This weekend, however, I was unsuccessful in finding that thing. I thought that I left my cell phone at KellyAnne’s after the party, but it turns out it actually disappeared (it’s a really really common model of phone and I’m pretty positive someone else accidentally took it home and hasn’t returned it yet so probably won’t) so I went to her house to look for it and talk someone into creating an adventure. However, I got there and discovered that everyone was still pretty exhausted from the night before so we ended up just cooking some food and wasting the afternoon away talking about the night before, looking at pictures and building houses of cards at the kitchen table.
That night, we went over to Piter’s house (Piter is the friend of Felipe’s who we met up with in Valparaiso…he happens to live two blocks away from our house and is super nice) and played Pictonary with charades instead of drawing while drinking Piscolas.
Today, I got up relatively early and went to Mass at the Cathedral of Santiago, which is HUGE and gorgeous. Then…we went to a FUTBALL GAME!! GOOOOAAAALLLL!! It was a freakin’ blast. Here in Santiago (and in Chile in general) there are three major professional teams – la Universidad de Chile, la Universidad Catolica y Colo colo. Even though they have names of universities, they’re not actually university teams, which is confusing. Apparently the teams used to be like our college sports teams but have since changed to be actual pro teams who have just retained their old names. Usually they play teams from other countries, but in Chile each year there are three “Clasicos,” when Chile’s teams play each other. Today was a Clasico, with La U de Chile and la Catolica playing. It was my first time ever going to a soccer game, and it was pretty crazy. The whole stadium has songs that they all sing together, kind of like little girls’ softball games, except what bits I could actually understand they’re more than a little bit more vulgar.
One of the funniest parts to me was that in soccer, much different from football, when someone is “hurt” by a foul of some sort they roll around on the ground clutching some extremity and making a great big scene. I guess they do this so that the foul will be given to them, and it actually usually works, but it’s really funny to see big tough athletes rolling around on the ground and moaning just because someone bumped into them. I’m much more accustomed to the “I’m fine, I’m fine” “Walk it off” manly man attitude of our sports!
Also funny was the fact that once again I had an opportunity to see the riot police branch of the Carabineros, although this time they weren’t in action. They patrol the stadium to maintain the peace, which apparently is actually necessary at times but wasn’t today, and actually escort the soccer players onto the field to keep opposing fans from throwing things at them…which they do when given a chance.
Anyhow, the U de Chile won, which was good for me because a) that’s the section I was sitting in b) that’s the school I go to…although everyone emphases emphatically that which school you attend has absolutely no bearing on your team faithfulness and c) that’s the team my family here roots for…even though Felipe goes to la Catolica (see b).
All in all it was a pretty good day, and I’m glad that as opposed to yesterday I actually made myself get out and do something today!
Oh, and Zach, I checked, and the water in the toilet circles counterclockwise here. So yup, it’s opposite.
I’ve got freakin’ 7 ½ hours of biology class tomorrow, so I think I’m going to get off the computer and get my stuff together for school tomorrow before hitting the sack. Ciao!
In the end, there were probably 30 or so people there, which was a pretty awesome turnout considering that KellyAnne and I were kind of feeling like we don’t really know anyone except each other here. All of the Chileans seemed pretty impressed by the turnout, too –I’ve gotten the impression that they don’t really normally throw big parties here. I heard a few people coming in the door at one point see how many people were there and ask if there was a cover charge! Felipe and I (and the people we ended up having to take home) stayed until 5 in the morning (I don’t want to believe that they always seem to do it like that here, nor can I get used to it, but it seems to be a common theme.) Also, I successfully made a birthday cake for KellyAnne, which I was really quite proud about since I’ve had such a tough time baking here. It turned out really pretty good, although it was a bit burnt on the sides. However, if you consider how much fussing over it and moving it around in the oven and adjusting the temperature I had to do (after 35 minutes in the oven it was perfectly brown on the sides and top and pure dough everywhere else…that’s a challenge to save, my friends) I’m impressed by how good it actually was.
I’ll share some pictures of the party in a bit, but I have to get them from KellyAnne first because I didn’t bring my own camera.
The next day I didn’t really do anything, to be perfectly honest. As a product of the fact that I got home a little after 5, I slept until about noon. Since all of the family comes over for lunch on Saturdays (keep in mind lunch starts around 2 or 3 here) it’s usually a pretty relaxed, time wasting type of day – a nice slow start, then a really slow lunch while everyone eats and chats and enjoys the weather (we eat out on the patio a lot) – I’ve found it’s kind of hard to actually do anything on Saturdays. It’s kind of hard, because it’s simply impossible to eat fast and leave –you have to wait for the cook to bring out each course of the meal, and it would seem incredibly rude to do that anyways –and it’s the only day of the week I see Sandra and her family usually so it’s only polite to stay a while. Not to mention it’s kind of nice to sit around and enjoy the whole “family environment” thing.
However, these characteristics of Saturdays in general make it feel occasionally like my house is a time vortex, and before I’m even paying attention it’s 6 and most of the museums or things I want to see are closed (they mostly close really early on Saturdays) so I have to try and find something to do so I can feel like my “free day” wasn’t a complete loss. This weekend, however, I was unsuccessful in finding that thing. I thought that I left my cell phone at KellyAnne’s after the party, but it turns out it actually disappeared (it’s a really really common model of phone and I’m pretty positive someone else accidentally took it home and hasn’t returned it yet so probably won’t) so I went to her house to look for it and talk someone into creating an adventure. However, I got there and discovered that everyone was still pretty exhausted from the night before so we ended up just cooking some food and wasting the afternoon away talking about the night before, looking at pictures and building houses of cards at the kitchen table.
That night, we went over to Piter’s house (Piter is the friend of Felipe’s who we met up with in Valparaiso…he happens to live two blocks away from our house and is super nice) and played Pictonary with charades instead of drawing while drinking Piscolas.
Today, I got up relatively early and went to Mass at the Cathedral of Santiago, which is HUGE and gorgeous. Then…we went to a FUTBALL GAME!! GOOOOAAAALLLL!! It was a freakin’ blast. Here in Santiago (and in Chile in general) there are three major professional teams – la Universidad de Chile, la Universidad Catolica y Colo colo. Even though they have names of universities, they’re not actually university teams, which is confusing. Apparently the teams used to be like our college sports teams but have since changed to be actual pro teams who have just retained their old names. Usually they play teams from other countries, but in Chile each year there are three “Clasicos,” when Chile’s teams play each other. Today was a Clasico, with La U de Chile and la Catolica playing. It was my first time ever going to a soccer game, and it was pretty crazy. The whole stadium has songs that they all sing together, kind of like little girls’ softball games, except what bits I could actually understand they’re more than a little bit more vulgar.
One of the funniest parts to me was that in soccer, much different from football, when someone is “hurt” by a foul of some sort they roll around on the ground clutching some extremity and making a great big scene. I guess they do this so that the foul will be given to them, and it actually usually works, but it’s really funny to see big tough athletes rolling around on the ground and moaning just because someone bumped into them. I’m much more accustomed to the “I’m fine, I’m fine” “Walk it off” manly man attitude of our sports!
Also funny was the fact that once again I had an opportunity to see the riot police branch of the Carabineros, although this time they weren’t in action. They patrol the stadium to maintain the peace, which apparently is actually necessary at times but wasn’t today, and actually escort the soccer players onto the field to keep opposing fans from throwing things at them…which they do when given a chance.
Anyhow, the U de Chile won, which was good for me because a) that’s the section I was sitting in b) that’s the school I go to…although everyone emphases emphatically that which school you attend has absolutely no bearing on your team faithfulness and c) that’s the team my family here roots for…even though Felipe goes to la Catolica (see b).
All in all it was a pretty good day, and I’m glad that as opposed to yesterday I actually made myself get out and do something today!
Oh, and Zach, I checked, and the water in the toilet circles counterclockwise here. So yup, it’s opposite.
I’ve got freakin’ 7 ½ hours of biology class tomorrow, so I think I’m going to get off the computer and get my stuff together for school tomorrow before hitting the sack. Ciao!
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Lions and Tigers and Dictators, O My!
Over the weekend, I met a friend of Felipe's who's mother is an English teacher at a private high school here in Santiago. Apparently the mother, Cecilia, loves to have native English speakers come talk to her classes, so we arranged for me to go talk to them today. She sent a taxi to the house to pick me up this morning. The high school is located in a rather swanky part of town, and as we were driving by some rather nice homes the taxi driver asked me if I knew who Fujimori was. Yes, I replied, I'm familiar with who he is. Well, the driver replied, there's his house. He pointed down the street and there, at the end of a cul-de-sac was parked a green Carabineros truck. Apparently Fujimori fled to Chile a few months ago, and now the Peruvian government is in the process of extraditing him back to Peru, where they hope to try him and then execute him. And today, I drove by his home.
Oh, and remember that little ol' Augusto Pinochet? You know...the military general who organized and led a bloody and violent coup overthrow of the previously democratically elected president in 1973, then proceeded to rule for 17 years tourturing and murdering his country's citizens? Yeah, that Augusto Pinochet. Don't worry, because he's getting just what he deserves...he lives here, in Santiago, rich and happy. Well, he's here in Santiago when he's not at one of his many other vacation homes, of course.
HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE? My host dad told me that when he and his wife were married, it was required that you get a permit to hold a small gathering to celebrate. They went through all of the legal process and were holding their legal wedding party right here in Santiago when the Carabineros showed up. Apperently the Carabineros checked all of their documents and let them continue. After leaving this wedding celebration, however, they drove to another wedding party being held a few streets away and KILLED PEOPLE. To this day, the location of some people who were at that gathering is still unknown.
That's not even an unusual story. There are plenty of people living here in Chile who were directly affected by Pinochet's dictatorship, and no one seems even a little bit alarmed that he's still living a peaceful, happy life right down the street.
I just don't get it.
Oh, and remember that little ol' Augusto Pinochet? You know...the military general who organized and led a bloody and violent coup overthrow of the previously democratically elected president in 1973, then proceeded to rule for 17 years tourturing and murdering his country's citizens? Yeah, that Augusto Pinochet. Don't worry, because he's getting just what he deserves...he lives here, in Santiago, rich and happy. Well, he's here in Santiago when he's not at one of his many other vacation homes, of course.
HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE? My host dad told me that when he and his wife were married, it was required that you get a permit to hold a small gathering to celebrate. They went through all of the legal process and were holding their legal wedding party right here in Santiago when the Carabineros showed up. Apperently the Carabineros checked all of their documents and let them continue. After leaving this wedding celebration, however, they drove to another wedding party being held a few streets away and KILLED PEOPLE. To this day, the location of some people who were at that gathering is still unknown.
That's not even an unusual story. There are plenty of people living here in Chile who were directly affected by Pinochet's dictatorship, and no one seems even a little bit alarmed that he's still living a peaceful, happy life right down the street.
I just don't get it.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Hey everybody, let's RIOT!
Over the weekend, spring arrived. Hooray! Hooray! Especially since spring here is like a mild summer’s day on the Oregon coast…which is pretty much my favorite type of weather in the world. Sunshiny, warm, even a little bit hot if you’re doing anything terribly active, and a completely clear and wide open blue sky…mmmm. Me encanta. Tuesday morning I had class (fonologia espanol), and after that I had plans with a friend to visit Cerro San Cristobal, the tallest hill in the city and kind of a touristy-family parkish-cultural stuff area. The famous salsa class is located right at the bottom of the hill, so we were going to go spend a few hours enjoying the sun and seeing the sites of the Cerro before proceeding on to dance our little hearts out. Usually I ride my bike to school in the morning – it’s about 10 minutes riding or 30 minutes if I walk. However, since we were going to hop on a bus and head downtown from school instead of returning home I decided to walk.
As I walked by a private high school on the way to campus, I realized that where yesterday I had seen an ambulance, today was an armored-truck looking thing painted in the distinctive Carabineros (Police) green color and accompanied by several Carabineros outside of it. Hmm…I thought…I wonder if these two events are related…I hope not! As I strolled past the vehicle I couldn’t help but feel slightly amused by its construction. In retrospect, it seems like I should have taken a pictures. It was literally about the size of a tank, with sheets of metal plating welded on the outside, some oret of machinery which I didn’t pay any attention to on the top and –the best part- metal grating type material welded to protect all of the windows and lights. However, the metal grating was rather beat up and looked like it had probably been re-affixed after coming off (being pulled off?) a time or two in the past. It also gave me the distinct impression that a dedicated mob of people – which is the sort of thing this apparatus appeared to be designed for – probably wouldn’t need a terribly long time to remove it again. “Silly Chileans!” I thought “They wouldn’t last a minute after an Oakland Raiders game!”
The entire University campus –just like everything here….homes, restaurants, stores, anything that takes up a piece of land – is surrounded by a giant fence, with gates at each entrance. There are always guards at the entrance, but I’ve only ever seen them serve as information and a friendly face to say “Buenas tardes!” to upon arrival. This time, thought, the gates were shut and there were guards opening them for students coming in. They didn’t ask for an ID card or anything, just opened the gates as you approached and closed them behind you. “That’s strange,” I thought to myself “I wonder what the occasion is.” In hindsight, or with your outsider’s perspective, this may seem like a bit of a red flag, but honestly I’m so used to encountering seemingly new, inexplicable phenomena after being here for 5 weeks that I’ve learned to just take it in stride. Everything else on campus seemed perfectly normal – I did look around a bit cautiously at first- so I headed to class, which proceeded uneventfully.
When class was over, the Chilean next to me asked me if I usually eat lunch on campus. “Sometimes…” I replied, a bit confused why he was asking me this. “Well,” he responded, “you might not want to today.” Upon pressing him for an explanation, I learned that a protest was scheduled today on campus. In May of this year, the students in Santiago had some pretty major protests and strikes, asking for reform of the education system. Although at the time the government did end up making some of the concessions the students were fighting for, it was explained to me by my classmates that they haven’t been nearly as effective as what was promised and for this reason the students are going to keep trying. Fair enough, I thought.
We left the class, and I noticed that in the area of the entrance gate there seemed to be a rather big crowd gathered. With absolutely no intention of trying to leave through that gate, even though it is the closest one to my route home, I decided to stroll on over and see what was up. It became obvious that the majority of students were just watching the protest and not actually participating, and as I got closer I could clearly tell why. It turns out that when these students decide to protest over something as seemingly mature as a better education system, their methodology is to…get this…throw chunks of concrete at the armored truck I had seen earlier. Wow. Way to go, folks, that’s the road straight toward societal change. I never ended up getting terribly close, but I’m pretty sure it didn’t amount to any more than that on the students’ side.
The Carabineros, on the other hand, seemed to take a bit more of a “lets get down to business with this BS” approach. The truck, which probably should be called a “riot tank,” because that’s the best thing I can think of to describe it, was driving up and down the street in front of the students, who had barricaded themselves (or been barricaded by someone else) into the campus. As it drove by the crowd of students, it alternated SHOOTING A WATER CANNON with pelting students with a HIGH POWERED POTATO/BEAN BAG GUN. Wow, I thought, that’s pretty intense, really. The road in front of the campus had been blocked off, as had nearby cross-streets. I stood watching for a minute or two, eating an apple and marveling at the apparently extremity of this situation. After a bit of time had passed, and I was beginning to think about how I was going to have to re-plan my route home, the riot tank made another pass to the end of the street and this time paused before starting to move again. I watched it head our direction, and as it approached a cloud began to billow out of a pipe in the side. “Hmmm. That appears to be some sort of gas.” I wisely thought. “I wonder what type?” As this process of wondering began to pass through my mind, the crowd of people in front of me turned and began to run away.
Not being an idiot, I decided maybe it would serve me well to do the same, and I followed. When it looked like we had reached a point where everyone was calming down and no longer running, I paused again to re-evaluate my situation. I didn’t appear to be affected by whatever it was they had sprayed. Just then, I noticed two girls from my class coming down the stairs near me, and we started to talk about what was going on. We stood there chatting, quite some distance from the front gate, for about 5 minutes, when all of the sudden everyone around us was sneezing and our faces, noses, mouths and eyes started to simultaneously burn and water. Looks like time for another move back….
We ran away from the direction of the gates only to see that we were actually pretty lucky; people around us had apparently not been quite as hasty on the retreat from the initial attack, and were completely red in the faces, obviously in pain. To be honest, I was in pain, and I really had a very indirect and miniscule dosage. I can’t imagine getting a face full of that stuff…which, in case you are still wondering, was pepper spray.
Alright. I’d had about enough of this silly protest bull. I walked to the other side of campus, found a safer exit, and proceeded home. On my way there, I noticed that actually quite a few streets were blocked off near campus, and an entire armored bus full of police in riot gear was on standby a block away. Wow. However, I don’t think it ever reached a level of excitement any higher than what I saw, because when I talked to a friend who had class just an hour later on the same campus she hadn’t heard anything about it.
And that, my friends, is the tale of my experience with a real-life riot. It sounds kind of corny now, I have to admit, but at the time it was actually kind of exciting. Now I know why they always advise people –especially foreigners—to avoid riots. When someone tells you it can be dangerous, they’re not kidding!
As I walked by a private high school on the way to campus, I realized that where yesterday I had seen an ambulance, today was an armored-truck looking thing painted in the distinctive Carabineros (Police) green color and accompanied by several Carabineros outside of it. Hmm…I thought…I wonder if these two events are related…I hope not! As I strolled past the vehicle I couldn’t help but feel slightly amused by its construction. In retrospect, it seems like I should have taken a pictures. It was literally about the size of a tank, with sheets of metal plating welded on the outside, some oret of machinery which I didn’t pay any attention to on the top and –the best part- metal grating type material welded to protect all of the windows and lights. However, the metal grating was rather beat up and looked like it had probably been re-affixed after coming off (being pulled off?) a time or two in the past. It also gave me the distinct impression that a dedicated mob of people – which is the sort of thing this apparatus appeared to be designed for – probably wouldn’t need a terribly long time to remove it again. “Silly Chileans!” I thought “They wouldn’t last a minute after an Oakland Raiders game!”
The entire University campus –just like everything here….homes, restaurants, stores, anything that takes up a piece of land – is surrounded by a giant fence, with gates at each entrance. There are always guards at the entrance, but I’ve only ever seen them serve as information and a friendly face to say “Buenas tardes!” to upon arrival. This time, thought, the gates were shut and there were guards opening them for students coming in. They didn’t ask for an ID card or anything, just opened the gates as you approached and closed them behind you. “That’s strange,” I thought to myself “I wonder what the occasion is.” In hindsight, or with your outsider’s perspective, this may seem like a bit of a red flag, but honestly I’m so used to encountering seemingly new, inexplicable phenomena after being here for 5 weeks that I’ve learned to just take it in stride. Everything else on campus seemed perfectly normal – I did look around a bit cautiously at first- so I headed to class, which proceeded uneventfully.
When class was over, the Chilean next to me asked me if I usually eat lunch on campus. “Sometimes…” I replied, a bit confused why he was asking me this. “Well,” he responded, “you might not want to today.” Upon pressing him for an explanation, I learned that a protest was scheduled today on campus. In May of this year, the students in Santiago had some pretty major protests and strikes, asking for reform of the education system. Although at the time the government did end up making some of the concessions the students were fighting for, it was explained to me by my classmates that they haven’t been nearly as effective as what was promised and for this reason the students are going to keep trying. Fair enough, I thought.
We left the class, and I noticed that in the area of the entrance gate there seemed to be a rather big crowd gathered. With absolutely no intention of trying to leave through that gate, even though it is the closest one to my route home, I decided to stroll on over and see what was up. It became obvious that the majority of students were just watching the protest and not actually participating, and as I got closer I could clearly tell why. It turns out that when these students decide to protest over something as seemingly mature as a better education system, their methodology is to…get this…throw chunks of concrete at the armored truck I had seen earlier. Wow. Way to go, folks, that’s the road straight toward societal change. I never ended up getting terribly close, but I’m pretty sure it didn’t amount to any more than that on the students’ side.
The Carabineros, on the other hand, seemed to take a bit more of a “lets get down to business with this BS” approach. The truck, which probably should be called a “riot tank,” because that’s the best thing I can think of to describe it, was driving up and down the street in front of the students, who had barricaded themselves (or been barricaded by someone else) into the campus. As it drove by the crowd of students, it alternated SHOOTING A WATER CANNON with pelting students with a HIGH POWERED POTATO/BEAN BAG GUN. Wow, I thought, that’s pretty intense, really. The road in front of the campus had been blocked off, as had nearby cross-streets. I stood watching for a minute or two, eating an apple and marveling at the apparently extremity of this situation. After a bit of time had passed, and I was beginning to think about how I was going to have to re-plan my route home, the riot tank made another pass to the end of the street and this time paused before starting to move again. I watched it head our direction, and as it approached a cloud began to billow out of a pipe in the side. “Hmmm. That appears to be some sort of gas.” I wisely thought. “I wonder what type?” As this process of wondering began to pass through my mind, the crowd of people in front of me turned and began to run away.
Not being an idiot, I decided maybe it would serve me well to do the same, and I followed. When it looked like we had reached a point where everyone was calming down and no longer running, I paused again to re-evaluate my situation. I didn’t appear to be affected by whatever it was they had sprayed. Just then, I noticed two girls from my class coming down the stairs near me, and we started to talk about what was going on. We stood there chatting, quite some distance from the front gate, for about 5 minutes, when all of the sudden everyone around us was sneezing and our faces, noses, mouths and eyes started to simultaneously burn and water. Looks like time for another move back….
We ran away from the direction of the gates only to see that we were actually pretty lucky; people around us had apparently not been quite as hasty on the retreat from the initial attack, and were completely red in the faces, obviously in pain. To be honest, I was in pain, and I really had a very indirect and miniscule dosage. I can’t imagine getting a face full of that stuff…which, in case you are still wondering, was pepper spray.
Alright. I’d had about enough of this silly protest bull. I walked to the other side of campus, found a safer exit, and proceeded home. On my way there, I noticed that actually quite a few streets were blocked off near campus, and an entire armored bus full of police in riot gear was on standby a block away. Wow. However, I don’t think it ever reached a level of excitement any higher than what I saw, because when I talked to a friend who had class just an hour later on the same campus she hadn’t heard anything about it.
And that, my friends, is the tale of my experience with a real-life riot. It sounds kind of corny now, I have to admit, but at the time it was actually kind of exciting. Now I know why they always advise people –especially foreigners—to avoid riots. When someone tells you it can be dangerous, they’re not kidding!
Sunday, August 20, 2006
A weekend's adventures...
Hmm..so it's sort of been a while since I've written anything...I feel like I several times now I've thought to myself ''boy, I should make sure and write about this,'' and then I haven't done it. So. What's new...?
Well, to start with, I went to my second salsa class, and, despite being terrified to return, it ended up being not awful! I was amazed! I got there right on time, and sat around in an empty gym for 15 minutes thinking I probably had the hour wrong before other students started showing up. The Tuesday meeting of the class has a lot of other American students in it, but I think that most of them are from the same exchange program and have some other class they have to attend on Thursdays so there were only 3 other gringos in the class. That was kind of nice, because I really don’t like to be in big crowds of gringos—people just lump us all together and assume that we’re all here together, and begin to either (a) cater to us as a different crowd, by talking slowly or simplifying things or that sort of thing or (b) ignore us altogether and assume we don’t want to have anything to do with them. The second seems to be the case with my Fonologia class—the Chilean students don’t talk to the Americans at all. I don’t exactly understand why, but it’s pretty lame.
Anyhow, that wasn’t the case this time, because there were way more Chileans than Americans in the salsa class, and they were really quite friendly and helpful. The first time I was there I sort of felt like all of the students must already be pros or something, because the whole class was dancing together when I arrived. However, that’s just because they had spend an hour practicing the same step over and over again. This Thursday, when I went, after practicing the same step for an hour I was pretty good at it, too, even though it’s rather complicated. Of course, I probably couldn’t remember it right now, and even if I could it would be the only salsa move I know so I wouldn’t exactly be an exciting dance partner at a Salsa Discoteque, but at least I know it’s not impossible and I’m not hopelessly behind. In fact, nearly everyone in the class is at the beginner level. Before going to this class I was really really upset with myself for not dropping it before the add/drop date, because every time I thought about it my life flashed before my eyes, but now I’m glad I stuck it out instead of being a chicken.
So that’s that. What else…well, this weekend I finally had an opportunity to hang out with and get to know some other Chileans my age. At school it’s kind of tough for the reasons I described, and so I don’t actually know anyone in any of my classes. However, this week is the “Week of the University” for Felipe’s university, La U Catolica, and because of this all week long they’ve got different parties going on at the different campuses. Friday night we went to campus San Joaquin, where all of his classes are. I met several of his friends there and it was pretty fun, and then after that we went to the home of a friend of his from high school and hung out for a while. When I say hung out for a while, I mean I got home at 5 in the morning. 5 IN THE MORNING! That’s freaking CRAZY! I’d heard plenty of times that here people get started late and keep going all through the night, and this weekend I finally saw how true it is. It’s not like we were even doing anything wild and crazy –it was just a bunch of people sitting at his friend’s house talking and listening to music, and when we left they didn’t look at all like they were planning on going to bed anytime soon.
What’s crazier is that last night, we went to another one of the university parties, this one at Campus Oriente, which is just a few blocks from our house. We met up with all of the same people again, and they’re all very nice so I enjoyed it. We danced all night long in the campus courtyard, first to Reggatone music which is a Latin club-style music that’s kind of similar to the music in clubs at home. People dance to it differently, though, and it was kind of hard because I felt like I was hearing a different beat in the music than everyone else. I feel like that’s actually possible because I was talking with KellyAnne about that phenomena and she told me that in the one or two times she’s been to clubs here the same thing has happened to her with Reggatone. It’s just a different style of dancing, I guess. Anyhow, that was fun and everything, but around 2 or 3 a live band started playing salsa and merengue music, and that was awesome. We literally danced the night away, this time making it back home at SIX! Of course this weekend the weather finally turned into summer (even though technically it’s still winter here) and the two nicest days since I’ve been here I slept until 1.
Every Saturday my host sister Sandra, her husband and their two kids Lucas, who’s 8 and Isadora, who is 10 months, come over for lunch and just to hang out for a while. After lunch I went out to La Chascona, the one of Pablo Neruda’s three homes that is located in Santiago. It’s absolutely amazing! He was really a crazy, eccentric old guy, that’s for sure! He built this house as a secret getaway to facilitate a long-term affair he was having, a woman who eventually ended up being his final wife. He was obsessed with ships and the sea, so he designed the whole complex to mimic being on a ship. I call it a complex because instead of making one building like any normal person, there are 3 buildings spread out across a hillside, with rivers (yes, rivers) running down waterfalls and alongside windows so it looks and sounds like you’re near the ocean. The hillside was damaged during the coup in the 70’s, and they had to engineer the water into underground pipes after that because they were eroding away the hillside, but it’s still incredible. The rooms are all small, with short, curved ceilings, furniture from real ships and bench seats along the walls instead of chairs which would slide around in a storm. In the dining room, there was a trap door which leads to one of the two private living quarters. Apparently it was regularly used in dinner parties, when Neruda would make a grand entrance through the disguised door dressed up in a bear costume, or like a priest, or occasionally even Salvador Allende. His house is decorated with original artwork from people like Salvador Dali, and each building has its own themed bar. The more I learn about him, the more fascinating Neruda becomes!
Anyhow, I could go on and on for hours, but I’ve actually got some homework to do if you can believe that, so…for now…ciao!
Well, to start with, I went to my second salsa class, and, despite being terrified to return, it ended up being not awful! I was amazed! I got there right on time, and sat around in an empty gym for 15 minutes thinking I probably had the hour wrong before other students started showing up. The Tuesday meeting of the class has a lot of other American students in it, but I think that most of them are from the same exchange program and have some other class they have to attend on Thursdays so there were only 3 other gringos in the class. That was kind of nice, because I really don’t like to be in big crowds of gringos—people just lump us all together and assume that we’re all here together, and begin to either (a) cater to us as a different crowd, by talking slowly or simplifying things or that sort of thing or (b) ignore us altogether and assume we don’t want to have anything to do with them. The second seems to be the case with my Fonologia class—the Chilean students don’t talk to the Americans at all. I don’t exactly understand why, but it’s pretty lame.
Anyhow, that wasn’t the case this time, because there were way more Chileans than Americans in the salsa class, and they were really quite friendly and helpful. The first time I was there I sort of felt like all of the students must already be pros or something, because the whole class was dancing together when I arrived. However, that’s just because they had spend an hour practicing the same step over and over again. This Thursday, when I went, after practicing the same step for an hour I was pretty good at it, too, even though it’s rather complicated. Of course, I probably couldn’t remember it right now, and even if I could it would be the only salsa move I know so I wouldn’t exactly be an exciting dance partner at a Salsa Discoteque, but at least I know it’s not impossible and I’m not hopelessly behind. In fact, nearly everyone in the class is at the beginner level. Before going to this class I was really really upset with myself for not dropping it before the add/drop date, because every time I thought about it my life flashed before my eyes, but now I’m glad I stuck it out instead of being a chicken.
So that’s that. What else…well, this weekend I finally had an opportunity to hang out with and get to know some other Chileans my age. At school it’s kind of tough for the reasons I described, and so I don’t actually know anyone in any of my classes. However, this week is the “Week of the University” for Felipe’s university, La U Catolica, and because of this all week long they’ve got different parties going on at the different campuses. Friday night we went to campus San Joaquin, where all of his classes are. I met several of his friends there and it was pretty fun, and then after that we went to the home of a friend of his from high school and hung out for a while. When I say hung out for a while, I mean I got home at 5 in the morning. 5 IN THE MORNING! That’s freaking CRAZY! I’d heard plenty of times that here people get started late and keep going all through the night, and this weekend I finally saw how true it is. It’s not like we were even doing anything wild and crazy –it was just a bunch of people sitting at his friend’s house talking and listening to music, and when we left they didn’t look at all like they were planning on going to bed anytime soon.
What’s crazier is that last night, we went to another one of the university parties, this one at Campus Oriente, which is just a few blocks from our house. We met up with all of the same people again, and they’re all very nice so I enjoyed it. We danced all night long in the campus courtyard, first to Reggatone music which is a Latin club-style music that’s kind of similar to the music in clubs at home. People dance to it differently, though, and it was kind of hard because I felt like I was hearing a different beat in the music than everyone else. I feel like that’s actually possible because I was talking with KellyAnne about that phenomena and she told me that in the one or two times she’s been to clubs here the same thing has happened to her with Reggatone. It’s just a different style of dancing, I guess. Anyhow, that was fun and everything, but around 2 or 3 a live band started playing salsa and merengue music, and that was awesome. We literally danced the night away, this time making it back home at SIX! Of course this weekend the weather finally turned into summer (even though technically it’s still winter here) and the two nicest days since I’ve been here I slept until 1.
Every Saturday my host sister Sandra, her husband and their two kids Lucas, who’s 8 and Isadora, who is 10 months, come over for lunch and just to hang out for a while. After lunch I went out to La Chascona, the one of Pablo Neruda’s three homes that is located in Santiago. It’s absolutely amazing! He was really a crazy, eccentric old guy, that’s for sure! He built this house as a secret getaway to facilitate a long-term affair he was having, a woman who eventually ended up being his final wife. He was obsessed with ships and the sea, so he designed the whole complex to mimic being on a ship. I call it a complex because instead of making one building like any normal person, there are 3 buildings spread out across a hillside, with rivers (yes, rivers) running down waterfalls and alongside windows so it looks and sounds like you’re near the ocean. The hillside was damaged during the coup in the 70’s, and they had to engineer the water into underground pipes after that because they were eroding away the hillside, but it’s still incredible. The rooms are all small, with short, curved ceilings, furniture from real ships and bench seats along the walls instead of chairs which would slide around in a storm. In the dining room, there was a trap door which leads to one of the two private living quarters. Apparently it was regularly used in dinner parties, when Neruda would make a grand entrance through the disguised door dressed up in a bear costume, or like a priest, or occasionally even Salvador Allende. His house is decorated with original artwork from people like Salvador Dali, and each building has its own themed bar. The more I learn about him, the more fascinating Neruda becomes!
Anyhow, I could go on and on for hours, but I’ve actually got some homework to do if you can believe that, so…for now…ciao!
Sunday, August 13, 2006
Té
Here, they drink tea (té) constantly. In fact, instead of having dinner, we have ''once'' which is a tea time where we eat finger food snacks and leftovers from lunch, which is the big meal of the day. You'd think that in a country where they drink so much tea, they would have a huge variety and well-developed taste for different flavors and styles. In fact, no. They drink only Earl Grey (except it has a different name, I can't remember what right now) or Black Ceylon, nothing else. Before coming here I had been told by several people that they drink a lot of tea, so I thought it would be nice to bring some of my favorite types to share. I brought some Good Earth original and some Stash Black Peach, and they think it's freakin' awesome. It's funny, because the other day when someone was asking around the table if anyone wanted tea, they asked ''Would you like regular tea, or tea with flavor?´´ referring to the tea I had brought. I thought ''Wow, they're right. The other tea really has no good flavor. Why on earth would you drink that all of the time if you knew that an option of ''with flavor'' existed?´´ A few days later I found this cartoon by Natalie Dee (for those of you who don't know, she's an internet cartoonist) and it seemed perfectly appropriate for the tea we drink here.
Fotos, Al Azar...
I just had to take a picture of this...I have no idea what it's doing here, but don't worry because I had potatoes in my lunch.
I'm sure they were from Idaho. It's not like Bolivia and Peru (you know..the countries right next door) are famous for their potato production, or anything...
I'm sure they were from Idaho. It's not like Bolivia and Peru (you know..the countries right next door) are famous for their potato production, or anything...
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Jenna Emerson, Professional Salsa Dancer
Well, I am currently skipping my first class in Chile. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know it's only the second week of classes, but I have good reason. I'm skipping Salsa, for two reasons. One, I didn't know that there was class today until kinda late. I wouldn't have know at all, but I was talking to some fellow American classmates who share Fonología and Salsa with me, and they told me there was class today. I had thought it was just on Tuesdays, but apparently not. However, even after they told me, I probably still had time to make it there. What I was lacking, however, was the mental preparation necessary to make myself attend class. You see, the reason for this particular blog is to share with you how my first experience with the class was.
Class started last Tuesday, but I wasn't yet signed up for this particular class and because of this I didn't go all last week. However, I went for the first time this Tuesday. The class is part of the School of Law, so I hopped on a bus from home to ride to their main building. However, I'd ridden by on the bus many times and noticed it a few, but never really payed attention to exactly what's around it in the way of landmarks and that sort of thing. As I was riding the bus I began to feel like I may have missed my stop, and got off, only to realize that I was about 2 blocks early. No biggie, I can walk two blocks to the main building.
I walked to the main building and, fully realizing that it's a large campus and I probably wouldn't know exactly where to go, I went straight to the information booth and asked a guard how to get to the classroom. ''Oh'' he said in a tone which I mistook for knowledgable and helpful (maybe that part was lost in translation, I don't know) ''That's a different building. This classroom is in the law school's gym. You need to go down this street you're on right now to the end, then you'll find Dominica. Go down this street, oh, I don't know, a block or so, and you'll find the gym. It's on the left.''
Sweet. I'm going to be a little late, because I only gave myself enough time to get to this building, but it shouldn't be too big of a deal. The other day, I sat in an empty classroom for half an hour waiting for my biology class to start, after arriving what I thought was late. Too bad it's starting to rain.
I walked for probably 7 blocks before I arrived at the end of the street, and then found Dominica. I started down this street, searching for No. 83, which was the address of the building. Unfortunately, the numbers seemed to jump from th 70's straight the 110 and beyond. I walked back and forth in front of the same stretch of road four times before I finally stopped to ask someone why I couldn't find No. 83. He didn't have a clue why I couldn't find it, either, but he did happen to know of a gym on the street that may be the one I was looking for. I was skeptical that it would be the correct gym, because there seemed to be several private gyms in the area and they were all on the right hand side of the street --clearly not what the guard had told me. I walked a few blocks to the building to which the man had directed me, and lo and behold it was correct. Right there, on the right side of the road, nestled NOT in between No.s 81 and 85 but in fact in between No.s 75 and 96, was my building.
(Just in case you're thinking ''That silly Jenna probably just misunderstood the guard,'' the Spanish words for left and right are izquierda and derecha, respectively. Not words that are easy to confuse with each other.)
Too bad I was now ONE HOUR late to a class of an hour and 15 minutes. I went in and approached someone who didn't already have a dance partner, and they started teaching me the basic steps. The rest of the class, meanwhile, was working on some complicated twisty-turny flashy whatsamahouzit. I was there for about 5 minutes, just barely catching onto the basics, when the professor told everyone to circle up in pairs, girls on the inside and guys out. Turns out the plan was for everyone to do the move once, then pass the girls around the circle so that we would all dance our way around the circle as the music played. Too bad I had NO IDEA how to do the twisty turny move!
Any clear thinking person would have stepped outside of the circle at this point, and watched what the rest of the class did. Apparently, however, I can't be described as a clear thinking person, 'cause I decided to try anyways.
It was a disaster. Most of my partners were plenty kind enough to try and help me out a little, but when I got to the professor for a dance partner he pretty much freaked out instantly. It was quite obvious I had no clue what I was doing, and instead of trying to help me through it he crossed his arms and counted loudly ''uno dos tres'' for the rest of the class while GLARING at me and occasionally making exasperated sighs and eye rolls. Luckily it couldn't last long because the music kept playing and the students kept dancing, so I was soon on to the next partner. Except. When the song finished, he stopped everyone and pointed me out, in front of the whole class, and said ''And YOU! YOU need to PRACTICE!! Let the man LEAD YOU!! But you still need to KNOW what you're DOING!!''
He restarted the music and we continued for one song more, and after that class was over. I left, in the rain, walked about 13 blocks to a bus station, in the rain, and waited for 20 minutes, in the rain, for my bus to arrive. When it did, I got on, COMPLETELY soaked to the bone, and rode it to my stop, where I got off and walked 4 blocks home, in the rain.
And that, my friends, is why I'm not in class today. I'll go on Tuesday, don't worry, but I need a little bit of mental preparation before I can do it. I just didn't have nearly enough advanced warning today. Until that day, (which I will be dreading until it comes) I think I'll just stick to the kind of salsa that goes with chips.
Class started last Tuesday, but I wasn't yet signed up for this particular class and because of this I didn't go all last week. However, I went for the first time this Tuesday. The class is part of the School of Law, so I hopped on a bus from home to ride to their main building. However, I'd ridden by on the bus many times and noticed it a few, but never really payed attention to exactly what's around it in the way of landmarks and that sort of thing. As I was riding the bus I began to feel like I may have missed my stop, and got off, only to realize that I was about 2 blocks early. No biggie, I can walk two blocks to the main building.
I walked to the main building and, fully realizing that it's a large campus and I probably wouldn't know exactly where to go, I went straight to the information booth and asked a guard how to get to the classroom. ''Oh'' he said in a tone which I mistook for knowledgable and helpful (maybe that part was lost in translation, I don't know) ''That's a different building. This classroom is in the law school's gym. You need to go down this street you're on right now to the end, then you'll find Dominica. Go down this street, oh, I don't know, a block or so, and you'll find the gym. It's on the left.''
Sweet. I'm going to be a little late, because I only gave myself enough time to get to this building, but it shouldn't be too big of a deal. The other day, I sat in an empty classroom for half an hour waiting for my biology class to start, after arriving what I thought was late. Too bad it's starting to rain.
I walked for probably 7 blocks before I arrived at the end of the street, and then found Dominica. I started down this street, searching for No. 83, which was the address of the building. Unfortunately, the numbers seemed to jump from th 70's straight the 110 and beyond. I walked back and forth in front of the same stretch of road four times before I finally stopped to ask someone why I couldn't find No. 83. He didn't have a clue why I couldn't find it, either, but he did happen to know of a gym on the street that may be the one I was looking for. I was skeptical that it would be the correct gym, because there seemed to be several private gyms in the area and they were all on the right hand side of the street --clearly not what the guard had told me. I walked a few blocks to the building to which the man had directed me, and lo and behold it was correct. Right there, on the right side of the road, nestled NOT in between No.s 81 and 85 but in fact in between No.s 75 and 96, was my building.
(Just in case you're thinking ''That silly Jenna probably just misunderstood the guard,'' the Spanish words for left and right are izquierda and derecha, respectively. Not words that are easy to confuse with each other.)
Too bad I was now ONE HOUR late to a class of an hour and 15 minutes. I went in and approached someone who didn't already have a dance partner, and they started teaching me the basic steps. The rest of the class, meanwhile, was working on some complicated twisty-turny flashy whatsamahouzit. I was there for about 5 minutes, just barely catching onto the basics, when the professor told everyone to circle up in pairs, girls on the inside and guys out. Turns out the plan was for everyone to do the move once, then pass the girls around the circle so that we would all dance our way around the circle as the music played. Too bad I had NO IDEA how to do the twisty turny move!
Any clear thinking person would have stepped outside of the circle at this point, and watched what the rest of the class did. Apparently, however, I can't be described as a clear thinking person, 'cause I decided to try anyways.
It was a disaster. Most of my partners were plenty kind enough to try and help me out a little, but when I got to the professor for a dance partner he pretty much freaked out instantly. It was quite obvious I had no clue what I was doing, and instead of trying to help me through it he crossed his arms and counted loudly ''uno dos tres'' for the rest of the class while GLARING at me and occasionally making exasperated sighs and eye rolls. Luckily it couldn't last long because the music kept playing and the students kept dancing, so I was soon on to the next partner. Except. When the song finished, he stopped everyone and pointed me out, in front of the whole class, and said ''And YOU! YOU need to PRACTICE!! Let the man LEAD YOU!! But you still need to KNOW what you're DOING!!''
He restarted the music and we continued for one song more, and after that class was over. I left, in the rain, walked about 13 blocks to a bus station, in the rain, and waited for 20 minutes, in the rain, for my bus to arrive. When it did, I got on, COMPLETELY soaked to the bone, and rode it to my stop, where I got off and walked 4 blocks home, in the rain.
And that, my friends, is why I'm not in class today. I'll go on Tuesday, don't worry, but I need a little bit of mental preparation before I can do it. I just didn't have nearly enough advanced warning today. Until that day, (which I will be dreading until it comes) I think I'll just stick to the kind of salsa that goes with chips.
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Valparaiso
This weekend Felipe, KellyAnne and I went to Valparaiso (Valpo), a freakin' awesome city on the coast. It's a UNESCO World Heritage Site, one of Pablo Neruda's homes and absolutely gorgeous. It's truly unlike any other city I've ever been to. It's a city of about 261,000 people, and it's built entirely on hills (cerros, en español) that kind of tumble down into the bay. To me, it looks like what you would have if you built a city that size in Garibaldi.
We took a bus from Santiago (It only cost a little less than 10 bucks round trip) on Friday afternoon when Felipe got out of class, and arrived around 2 or 3. We didn't have any set lodging plans when we left Santiago, but had heard that there are tons and tons of hostels in the city for pretty cheap, so we figured we'd work that all out once we got there. Sure enough, waiting for us as soon as we got off of the bus there were several women with brochures and pictures of their hostels, vying for our business. It was kind of odd, because as soon as they knew that someone was going to go home with our money, they got kind of nasty between each other, and one of the women who was offering lodging for 10 mil per person per night (about 20 bucks--quite expensive for a hostel) told us the other was in an unsafe part of town and blah blah blah...it was kind of a mess, especially since they were arguing with each other and trying to persuade us in angry Español. However, in the end we found one for 4 mil per person per night, and it turned out to be a really nice facility in a really nice part of town. What's more, to get there we had to take an ''ascensor,'' which is a type of vertical lift specific to Valparaiso (there's probably a dozen of them in the city). They were originally built in the 1800's, but are still in use today, for a fee of 100 pesos (which is like 20 cents). They're absolutely awesome, and they creak and groan as you slide up (or down--they work both ways) a rock face to the other end.
The view looking down from the top of the ascensor's tracks....
...and the same ascensor, looking up
We dropped our things off in the room, and then set out wandering through the city a little bit. We found a place to eat lunch downtown, then took a colectivo (it's like a really cheap group taxi to a set drop-off point) to the house of Pablo Neruda.
Unfortunately you're not allowed to take any pictures inside the house, so I don't have much to share of this part, but it was absolutely awesome. He designed the house himself, and I would encourage you to look up ''Pablo Neruda's House Valparaiso'' (make sure and include Valparaiso, because he had three houses) on Google images. I'm sure there will be some pictures there. It was super cool, painted in all sorts of funky colors. It's all completely and totally exactly how it was when he lived there, and the views of the city and the ocean from his home are breath taking.
There are tons of stray dogs in the city...we stumbled upon some adorable puppies. Don't worry Dad, it wasn't foaming at the mouth and even if it had been it didn't bite me... It was actually kind of hard to leave it there, to be honest. I'm sure it's probably going to have a relatively short, malnourished life, and he was really sweet. Lucky for my family here he was a little too big to fit in my purse...
Here, KellyAnne and I are capturing two of the most distinguishing characteristics of the city...the crazy, beautiful paint schemes, and the ubiquitous stray dogs sleeping everywhere, which we are artistically re-representing....
After wandering around there for about an hour, we set off exploring the streets a little bit. Actually, this turned into a common theme for the weekend. Valparaiso is totally decorated by it's citizens in a way I've never seen before. The houses are all odd shapes and sizes, and every one is painted in vibrant, contrasting colors. One home might be vibrant pink with turquoise trim, while the house on it's left is brilliant orange and black and the house on the right is deep blue with yellow stripes. It's amazing, really, and we never got tired of just walking through the streets without a direction in mind looking at the views of the surrounding hills and all of the homes. Additionally, there are vibrant, beautiful murals EVERYWHERE; in fact there's a part of town called the ''Museo de Cielo Abierto'' or ''Open Air Museum'' which is just a collection of really awesome murals painted by famous (and some completely unknown) artists.
One of Felipe's friends from high school, Peter, has a sister who lives in Valparaiso, and he arrived in town for the weekend that evening as well. We spent that night hanging out with him, (once again) wandering the streets just to see the sights.
The next day we visited La Plaza Victoria, which is most famous because on one side it is bordered by an ancient cathedral and in the middle a giant fountain and statues (which are pretty common fixtures in the Plazas here in general) were looted from Peru during a war in the 1800's and brought here to Chile. That's a lot more funny to think about as you're standing in front of a giant fountain, complete with flowers planted inside of it and probably 30 feet tall--it's definately gorgeous, but it would have never occured to me to take it home! We also visited the Museo de Cielo Abierto this day, and afterwards we went down towards the waterfront and explored around for a while. We ended up taking the metro to a part of town with sea food, because we wanted to try some Chilean seafood dishes, and ate at a very nice (albiet expensive) restaurant there.
This is one of the fountains that was stolen from Peru in the War of the Pacific
Afterwards, we walked...and walked...and walked for several miles back to the hostel, where KellyAnne and I took a nap. When we woke up, we were pretty hungry, and decided that chips and salsa would be heavenly. Too bad they don't eat that here. We ended up buying some bread, because they don't eat tortilla chips, and buying all of the supplies (tomato, cilanto, garlic, onion, olive oil, chili peppers...) to make our own salsa (something neither of us had ever done before.) We went back to the hostel and whipped it up just like we were grew up in Texas, and it turned out quite good. Score for us! That night we hung out in the hostel with Peter again, mostly because we were all too tired to go out anywhere.
Actually, both nights when we were in the hostel we had some pretty interesting company, and it was pretty fun. Also staying there at the same time were a couple in their late 20{s --a Chilean man and a German woman. He's a doctor in the public health system here in Chile, and he met her when they were both studying in Hamburg. She's been in Chile for four years and speaks awesome Spanish, even though when she got here she had very little ability to understand or converse. Right now she's studying international relations in the Universidad de Chile in Valparaiso. I think she works in some sort of diplomatic position or office, but I'm not entirely sure. The naval academy is located in Valaparaiso, as is the national congress, so I wouldn't be surprised if she's somehow affiliated with one of those two places. Anyways, it was really quite interesting to have conversations about all sorts of random things and to have perspectives from so many different angles. For example, I found out last night that the US is one of the few places where we're taught that there are 7 continents. Most other places say there are 6 --North America and South America are known as ''America.'' For this reason, people are really quite annoyed by the fact that we call ourselves ''Americans.'' We actually had quite a lengthy discussion on this subject, in which I was the only person who maintained that it's not a product of us being stuck up or self centered and unaware of the fact that there is more to the Americas than our nation, just a product of our name. I mean, sure, ''United States of America'' might not be exactly accurate for the name of our country, because there are many other ''states'' or sovereign bodies which exist in the Americas and are not united with us, but that's a problem that was created in 1776 when our Constitution was written. It's not our fault that our country has this name , but in any case it would hardly be accurate to refer to myself as a ''United States-ian,'' because then you run into the same problem--countless other countries in the world exist as a body of ''united states.'' Then I would be conceited in thinking that our's is the only set of states which are united, instead of being self-centered in thinking ours is the only conglomeration of states in the Americas. So really, it's not that Americans are ignorant to the fact that there are more to the Americas than our country, the problem is just that our name is relatively un-specific. However, I ran into two problems with this argument. 1) It's a little complicated to explain and 2) I was trying to do it in Spanish. Therefore, I didn't make any headway.
The next day (today) we did more aimless wandering through the streets, seeing sights and taking pictures. We went to the Municipal Museo de Bellas Artes, which was closed because it's Sunday but still has a beautiful building to look at and a lovely boardwalk with a view of the city. There, we ran into an artist who was painting absolutely gorgeous panoramas of the city, and it was pretty cool to talk to him as he made them. I really wanted to buy one, but there were pretty expensive and I'm not exactly sure how I could get it back home. Then, we took an ascensor down to the Plaza Sotomayor, which is where the main Naval building (which is quite old and impressive) is located. The plaza was built over the top of the original Spanish dock, and there's actually a free museum where you can walk down under the plaza and see original pilings and artifacts that still exist in the ground there. There's also a pretty impressive monument and tomb of a Chilean naval hero who was key in helping Chile secure independence, complete with Naval guards in full dress uniform who followed us around to make sure we didn't touch anything. It was actually kind of strange.
We went from there down to the dock, where we watched tour boats and warships and industrial cargo ships and old men in rowboats all milling around. Actually, during all of our time in Valparaiso any time someone figured out we were American they made a point to tell us the American naval ship ''Unitas'' was in town --apparently it was kind of a big deal. We never actually did see the ship, because it left yesterday before we ever made it to that part of the bay, but we did hear a lot about it, and walking by a crowd of people in the street we had the surreal experience of hearing some clearly American men conversing with southern accents. Rumor has it that the city of Valparaiso imported prostitutes from Argentina specially for this event--although to be honest I kind of feel like that's probably not terribly credible. In any case, way to go, USA, for having that affect on a town.
The dock was pretty nice, really, and we stayed there for a while, until it started to rain. It was actually pretty cool all day, and at this time we were all hungry and mostly out of money, so we decided it was a good time to head back to Santiago. We made our way back to the bus station, hopped on a bus, and napped peacefully all the way back into town. All in all, a very fun and interesting weekend!!
This is just a random, salmon pink mansion on a street corner...I took a bunch of pictures hoping that I would be able to use the ''Photo Stitch'' feature to blend them together for a panorama effect, but it turned out to be complicated beyond my patience. Guess you'll just have to imagine what these pictures would look like together...sorry!
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