DAY 5
Our fifth day on the island we woke up rather late (by our standards – 10 o’clock is relatively early by Chilean standards.) It had stormed all night long, with rain and wind and the works, and continued showering off and on all morning. This didn’t exactly encourage us to get out of bed or go exploring, by any means. Also, we didn’t really have any plans left; we’d honestly seen all of the important sights of the island in four days. Napohe had told us the night before that if we went down by the waterfront in a certain area there were giant sea turtles we could watch swimming around. Right around that same area we had found a panadaria (a bread store) that sells fresh bread which is actually good, something which is unfortunately a completely foreign concept around here. It’s funny, actually, because no one buys store-bought, bagged bread, they all buy fresh bread every day at the bakery. However, instead of having fluffy, crispy on the outside soft on the inside tasty fill you up with goodness flavor, all of the bread is awful. The most popular kind is a sort of hard, flat, incredibly dense disc that is served with pretty much every meal.
That’s why this particular panadaria was so special; the woman who owned knew that not all bread has to be sucky, and as a result, hers was awesome. In an effort to take advantage of her bread store, since we knew that good bread is impossible to find in Santiago, our lunches almost the whole time we were there were some variation of fresh avocado, bread and various additional things. That day once again we grabbed an avocado, bought some bread at her store and headed down to check out the sea turtle scene.
We looked around where he had told us to go, but the directions he gave us were confusing from the beginning and we didn’t exactly know where to look. It was about lunch time, though, so we went and found a bench looking over the ocean and started in on the fresh bread, avocado and tuna fish we’d brought. Right as we got good and settled, with the can of tuna open and our avocado cut, a sudden downpour commenced. That’s great. Luckily, there was a scuba shop nearby that happened to have a little round table and plastic chairs sitting under a canopy in front of the store. We picked up our things and hurried over there, where we finished the rest of our meal eating at their little table. Every once in a while the people from the shop poked their heads out and looked at us a little funny, which seemed odd, but no one was using the table and it made a lot more sense for us to sit there than it did to sit in the rain. We finished our food, the rain having stopped a few minutes before, and were just about to go when one of the shop workers brought out a large tray with hot water, a selection of tea and coffee, three coffee mugs and sugar. He set it down in front of us, said “té” and went back into the store.
We had no idea what the entire interaction was about. The man who owned the store and we had seen several times appeared to be Chilean, not Rapa Nui, which made any sort of generosity like this rather unprecedented. In general, generous is not a word that comes to mind when describing Chileans. We weren’t sure if they were bringing this out to us because they thought we were having tea, which would make sense to them because no one eats lunch here as early as noon ever, or because they felt like we were using something of theirs and wanted an excuse to charge us for it. The store owner came and stood in the doorway for a few seconds watching us, as if waiting for some sort of reaction, then went back inside and waited. The whole exchange was very strange.
Since we weren’t sure what it was all about, but were pretty sure the store owner was acting weird, we decided to just leave without touching his offering. We got up from the table and went around back, where we thought there was a street or alley leading to the main road. Unfortunately, we were quite wrong. There was a small parking lot, and then it just turned into back yards of people’s shops and homes. We found ourselves standing in the middle of an unkempt backyard-like area, with tall wet grass that we were going to have to walk through and a fence we would have to cross to get back to the road. What made things better was the fact that in this same open area was a Rapa Nui couple having a very loud and angry argument in Rapa Nui. The woman was backed up against a wall, crying while the man yelled at her quite emphatically and intensely. Not exactly something you want to walk right into the middle of.
We quietly made our way through the tall grass and hopped a fence at the other end, then headed back up towards Napohe’s house because we didn’t exactly have any other plans or ideas. As we were walking that direction it started to rain again. Luckily we were right in the area of a large indoor artesian market where all of the local people sell their tourist wares. Neither of us had much interest in buying anything, realizing fully well that it was probably all expensive, but it seemed like a nice idea to escape the rain and at least see what sort of things they were selling.
We looked through the booths for a while until the rain stopped, then went the rest of the way up the hill to Napohe’s house. There, we encountered another American student-studying-in-Chile compadre who Napohe had befriended that morning at the airport and offered to let stay in his house as well.
Robert, this guy, turned out to be quite a character. He’s about as square as a rubik’s cube, but really nice. The funniest part about him was the fact that, on top of a strong gringo accent with hints of Kentucky flavor, one of his early Spanish teachers had been from Argentina. This had a strong affect on his pronunciation, and alone would have been pretty funny. However, in addition to this, he’s in the process of reading Don Quixote, and as a result of that he enjoys using very antiquated words pronounced with a strong Spanish accent – which also by itself would have been hilarious. The result was a very distinctive manner of speaking, to be sure.
Not long after we had started getting to know Robert and began to understand the situation a bit better, Napohe showed up. He started to explain everything to us, but it quickly became obvious that we’d figured it all out and were totally cool with the situation.
Napohe had to run some errands, and he invited us (including Robert) to come along with us. Before getting started on his things, though, he took us down to the waterfront again to make sure we saw the turtles. We only saw one, but it was pretty cool to watch swimming around. Napohe saw my skin that day, and as it was considerably nastier looking, he suggested that I go into the ocean for a bit. He was quite convinced that sea water is the best healing agent on earth and all I needed to do to reach a cure was wade around for a bit.
Figuring it couldn’t possibly hurt and that he might be at least partially right I took his advice and waded into the ocean for a few minutes while everyone else was looking at the turtles. It did feel a bit better afterwards, which was really nice, even though it might have been all mental.
The three of us accompanied Napohe on his errands for a while and then he brought us back to the house. He had to help a neighbor fix his water heater, and took off to go get some supplies. During the time we had been running the errands my skin had started to burn and itch like never before, and by the time we got to the house it was pretty agonal. What’s more, it had also started to change colors, from a deep dark purple-ish red to bright rose pink. Hmmm. Although Napohe seemed convinced that it wasn’t that big of a deal, I didn’t exactly feel comfortable with the idea of leaving the island with some sort of unknown tropical rash. It seemed like an especially bad idea since I didn’t know exactly what had cause the reaction to occur, and if things got worse after I returned to Santiago I wouldn’t have the ability to tell any doctors what they were dealing with. It seemed more likely that if anything, local doctors might be familiar with whatever plant had irritated my skin. These facts, combined with the increasing level of discomfort, ended up leading us to the island hospital.
I was actually kind of excited to see the hospital, because I had read that initially it had been a US Army hospital and when the US Army left they turned over the facilities to the people of the island. I don’t know why that made it more exciting, but somehow it did.
We thought we had a general idea where it was located, and it’s not exactly a large metropolis or anything so we didn’t think it should be too hard to find. However, we started out walking in exactly the wrong direction and proceeded to spend a good half and hour longer than necessary en route. Finally we asked a passing car, who not only told us where it was but offered to take us there as soon as the dropped of their passenger. Thinking that this sounded like a fine plan, we agreed and waited alongside the road until he came back, picked us up and delivered us to the front door. This was all really rather fortunate, because the pain I was experiencing had continued to grow in intensity for some time and by now I was actually quite uncomfortable.
I had long since forgotten about the front page newspaper article I had read on the flight over, but it’s relevance in this particular situation quickly refreshed my memory. Unfortunately enough, there happened to be a “paro naciónal,” a national strike, in the healthcare system. Bummer. That meant that they were only seeing dire emergencies, which were listed on a handmade poster as being things like babies with fevers and car accidents. Initially, seeing that poster was a bit disheartening, but more disheartening were the look on the face of the triage nurse when I showed her my leg, and her agreement that I needed medical attention. Uh-oh?
I ended up waiting in the bare, slightly dirty lobby for about two hours, luckily with the company of KellyAnne, Robert, and two very entertaining two year olds playing and waiting as well. Finally the nurse called me in, and I entered the central room they were using to treat people. It looked exactly like the Army hospitals in the movies; initially an open workspace with a countertop for filling out paperwork and a scale, then a long row of cubicles, each with an old, dingy gurney, separated by sheets. I wish that I had taken pictures of the hospital, because its stark, antiquated nature was really something to see.
I entered the cubicle she led me to and sat down on the gurney, hoping to speak with someone soon as the discomfort was becoming, well, uncomfortable. “Soon” turned out to be 45 minutes later, when a doctor came in, glanced at my skin, wrote a few notes on a piece of paper, told me I’d had an allergic reaction to a plant (duh, genius brain), said I would need a shot today and a week-long treatment of antihistamines, and left. In all, nearly three hours of waiting for three minutes of speaking with a doctor. The nurse came in and gave me a quick shot of antihistamines and corticosteroids, which turned out to be just what I needed as the burning and itching disappeared nearly immediately.
The most surprising thing about this entire experience was the fact that, even after receiving an injection in the emergency room, I didn’t have to pay a dime! I knew that Chile has a very good public healthcare system, but this was amazing! I have healthcare insurance, but I didn’t have any of the information with me nor did I have any idea how I was going to get it if they asked. To be honest, I showed up without any acceptable method of payment, and it was never an issue.
After the hospital we walked back to Napohe’s house, where he had apparently finished helping the friend with the water heater and left again. The three of us cooked a dinner of noodles and sauce together, cleaned up and were trying to figure out what to do next when Napohe showed back up.
We spent the night rather relaxed, hanging out at Napohe’s house with him, Robert and a Rapa Nui friend of Napohe’s who had stopped by and didn’t end up leaving until late. More interesting conversations with interesting people and interesting viewpoints, a recurring aspect of the trip that kind of turned out to be a major bonus and somewhat of a highlight.
Getting up not entirely early the next morning, we just had time to pack our things, eat a quick breakfast, say goodbye to Robert and Napohe (who we somehow never managed to get a picture of, which is really most unfortunate) and head to the airport. We didn’t have any sort of boarding pass, since our tickets were all taken care of electronically and we didn’t have computer access on the island. We thought we remembered our flight time, but actually arrived at the airport exactly as it was boarding and nearly didn’t make it. That just added an element of excitement, I suppose.
The flight back was absolutely divine; apparently the wind has a huge affect on the trip and it was about an hour and a half shorter than the trip there had been. In addition to this, the in-flight food was actually really good, with a meal of salmon and rice. Not only that, but they gave us free wine and a free after-meal “bajativa” of Bailey’s to sip on along with our coffee, which the consistently re-filled. I don’t exactly know why, but I hadn’t expected much of LAN (the Chilean national airline), but I was honestly quite impressed with our trip.
We arrived back in Santiago sunburnt, rashed (me, anyways) and exhausted, but also full of excitement about our trip. On the plane ride back, looking around at the other passengers, we confidently felt like probably no one else on the plane had a better trip than us. Not only that, but we had each managed to spend only about $40 (after the plane ticket, which was relatively cheap thanks to our student discounts) on an island that is said to cost at least that much a day just for food.
And that’s our trip. This has taken me 16 pages to write, so congratulations on getting to the end, both to you, and to me!
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