Chapter 11 ~ Yin and Yang

In which I will explain some of the downsides of living in a foreign country. 


I was going back and forth about posting this chapter, and in case you were still wondering, I did in fact decide to post it. I thought it only fair to the readers to share some of the downsides of my trip so far, so as not to confuse anyone in thinking it has been all butterflies and rainbows, because if I have learned anything in life so far, it's that for every up there is a down or is it that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction; well that and the only guarantees are death and taxes, which turned out to be false because I happen to know that there are some people who do not pay taxes. Anyway I digress, before I get started I would like to state first and foremost that I have had the time of my life so far and if I could go back in time and change something, I wouldn't. I have learned more in the last four months of living in Chile than any other time in my life, and the struggles I am about to mention have only made me stronger and better. Having said that, lets get started, shall we?

The first struggle, and the greatest, is being away from my friends and family for so long. I am no stranger to moving, I did it often as a child and continue to move around as an adult. My experience with moving around has taught me a lot about friendships and family, and I figured that this trip would be just as easy (or hard) as when I moved after high school, or during college when I moved to the cities for a short period of time. The reason that this trip has been so much more challenging on me, I believe, is because I knew from the start that I was never going to be staying permanently in Chile. For that reason, I have had a much more challenging time connecting with the people here. It didn't help that up until a week ago the Chileans were all on strike from school, and I was stuck in a broken down high school out of town, never getting to meet Chilean students, never getting to know the university, not even being able to do some of the extra curricular activities I had originally planned on doing. No, I was in a run down building full of other foreigners, most of which didn't know much spanish, and most of whom had the same mentality that I did; after 5 months I'll probably never see these people again, why bother getting to know them? I'll admit that was wrong of me, I should have tried more actively to meet new people in the beginning, but unless you have done the same thing I'm doing right now, you don't understand the difficulties. You'll just have to trust me its easier said than done. It also didn't help that the school placed me as an 'independent', so while all of the other students had groups with counselors and leaders to help them go out and do things and meet new people, I remained alone.

It's may be at this point that you are probably thinking one of two things: either 'get over it, Sam, and stop whining!' or 'wow, that must have been really hard for you, I'm so sorry...' Well to both accounts, you can stop right there. It was hard in the beginning and I'll admit that I wanted to go home a few nights, but now I am more grateful for it. While everybody else was hanging out with other exchange students, I was with my host family and their friends, speaking spanish and learning the customs and cultures of Chile. So while everyone else got to experience the 'tourist' side of Chile, I got to live here as a Chilean, or I should say as close to a chilean as a foreigner can get. I can also say that my spanish has improved more so than most of the others', because I was forced to hang out with my host family while they were all forced to hang out with each other; I was speaking spanish most of the time while they were all speaking english. Now some of them may read this and want to argue, and they have every right; I'm sure they also have had a great time in Chile and learned a lot about spanish and culture, I'm simply stating my opinion and what I've found with the other exchange students. As for the school, yea it sucks and it made me so angry at first that I wasn't getting what I paid for, and I wasn't warned before I came here, but that is life and I've learned to live with these changes. The irony is now that I've finally learned to be OK with our little run down high school building outside of town, we are changing and going to finish our last two weeks of school in the actual university...

Other little things that get to me are the dogs that bark incessantly throughout the night, the food (don't forget how much bread, soup, and salad I eat), the lack of indoor heating, the daily struggles with the language, the school and its lack of reasoning (really though, the professors here have no reasons for anything it seems, and don't really care about the assignments or the grading process, they just seem to do what they want to do when they want to do it), the instant coffee, the lack of a job, the lack of personal items I have with me, the price of most things here (which may just be me paying more attention because of the lack of a job), and absolutely the daily threat of an earthquake, the buses I have to take, not being able to drive, and as always the spiders.

The interesting thing about all of this, I am almost certain that these are going to be all of the things that I miss most after returning to the US. The irony just kills me. I guess the point of this was just to let people know that I have daily struggles here, and it isn't alway fun and games. Living life in a foreign country is just like living life in the US (or anywhere for that matter), there are some good days and some bad days and you just have to take what comes to you and try and make the most out of it.

To end I just wanted to update you all on my trip to Chiloe (because I just hate ending on a bad note). It was great, I really enjoyed the company of my host siblings and the island is amazing. I went with a friend (on a 20 hour bus ride each way) and we toured around with my host brother. Saw some great churches, ate some amazing sea food, and it passed really quickly.

I have now entered my final month here in South America, and because of the lack of a job, my money supply is running low. I have a few more things I would like to do but it's kind of a wait and see. I hope you are all finding yourselves well, and I hope you understand the meaning behind this chapter. I will most likely only be updating my blog one last time before returning home, but of course if something extraordinary happens I will be sure to squeeze in another chapter. Thank you to all of you who continue to read my blog and support me in Chile, just know that the feeling is mutual.
No Vemo Muy Pronto!
S.R.

Chapter 10 ~ 1 potato, 2 potato, 3000???

In which I will explain my first experience of traveling alone in a foreign country; the downs and the ups of my trip to Peru.


Did you know that there are over 3000 different types of potatoes in the world, and over half of them are found in Peru. If you are anything like me you can't name more than 5 different kinds without starting to say things like 'french fries, tater tots, or mashed'. This knowledge, of the different types of potatoes, is what I chose to research before traveling alone to Peru. I didn't think to research population, natural disasters, climate, crime rate, cuisine, or different activities for tourists; nor did I research what is needed when traveling alone such as necessities or what not to do. Instead I took this trip on as a sort of 'learn in the moment' type of trip. I knew I wanted to visit Machu Picchu, I knew the name of the city I was flying to and the name of the hostel I had a reservation at, I knew they spoke spanish, and I knew that they had a lot of potatoes. Other than that, I knew I was in for an adventure which is exactly what I got.

It all started on the night of October 13th, 2011. I had a bus ticket to Santiago and strict instructions from my host mother warning me not to take a taxi from the bus terminal to the airport because they would overcharge me and have been known to be a little dangerous for tourists in the past. I was all set with my hiking backpack and a fanny pack I borrowed from the family because I refused to buy one. My plane was planned to take off at 7 am on Friday and I was going to stay the entire night, Thursday, in the airport because there were no busses that could get me to the airport on time Friday morning. I said my goodbyes to the host family and as I was walking out of the house my host mother yelled after me, 'From this point onward, until when you return, enjoy everything!'. I set out, for the unknown, well not exactly the unknown, I really set out for the bus station. Then one and a half hours later, I was in Santiago, ready to find a bus to the airport. Except there was one little problem, the busses to the airport had stopped running a half hour before I arrived. Well that is just great, the only two rules that my host mother had given me were about to go straight down the drain. 1) Don't take a taxi, they overcharge and they can be dangerous for tourists. And 2) Enjoy everything. Well now I have to take a taxi to the airport, and if it's overcharging me with the potential of being dangerous, I'm certainly not enjoying it! But it turned out fine, I found a taxi, it didn't turn out to be dangerous, it was expensive, but I also found out later that a friend of mine had been charged more than I payed. Then I make to the airport and the real madness begins. It turns out that on said night of the 13th, Justin Bieber was flying in to Santiago for a show. The airport was full, and I mean FULL, of screaming teenage girls. It was a nice way to pass the time, but I've got to say that after an hour of screaming girls, it gets old; and when I was boarding my flight at 6 am the next morning, there were still screaming teenage girls and no Justin Bieber.

So now I've made it to Peru. My flight has landed and I just have to collect my backpack and find the person I'd reserved to pick me up and take me to my hostel. I collect my belongings, walk out the front door of the Cusco airport, and encounter hundreds of people. Some holding signs with names on them, others shouting 'taxi, taxi, you look like you need a taxi', and others that just looked like family members waiting to see their relatives. Amongst all of the shouting people, there was not one person with a sign that had my name on it. After I waited a few minutes, and had yelled at every single taxi driver, and told them all that I didn't want or need a taxi, I decided to go in the airport, find the information desk, and call my hostel. According to them, I had failed to reserve the airport transportation service (even though I still have the e-mail stating clearly that I did reserve it) and that I'd have to take a taxi to get there. Great, once again I'm about to break one of my mothers rules, and on top of that, I have to return outside to the taxi drivers that I had just been yelling at 5 minutes previously. Needless to say I found a nicer looking old man (more of a chance he wouldn't remember me), who brought me to my hostel at a decent price. Now first thing's first, I have to check in and then find a tour package of Machu Picchu, because I was told to wait until arriving in Peru to buy a tour due to the fact that they are everywhere and about half the price than the ones found online.  Check, and check. I purchased the 3 day, 2 night 'Inca Jungle Trek' which was set to depart at 7 am the next morning. At this point I had time to walk around the city, get to know the area, snap a few photographs, drink a beer and try some delicious Ravioli de Cuy (translation to come later).

Now this is the first time I've stayed in a hostel, and I'm sharing a room with 14 people, and a bathroom, which is coed, with no hot water, and for the entire hostel. It was a new experience and had I not been exhausted from the previous night in the airport, I might have actually enjoyed the party type atmosphere a little more than I did. But, having no sleep for the last couple nights, and having to wake up from another restless night at 6 am to take a cold shower, I had broken the other of my two rules; I was not enjoying it very much. But that was all in the past. It was nearing 7 and my tour guide was on his way to pick me up, along with 8 others not staying at the hostel, and I was determined to enjoy the upcoming tour.

Day 1: I am the first person to be picked up. The tour guide, Edson, walks with me up the street a couple blocks and we find two others coming on the tour, Ash from Australia and Sabrina from Italy. We begin talking right away with each other and continue walking with Edson. We come up to a van that has another girl sitting in it, Tina from California. (Her name isn't actually Tina, but I can't remember what it really is so we'll go with Tina) Now we start driving; Ash, Tina, Sabrina and myself talking and sharing stories of our travels. After a few minutes the van stops and 5 more people enter, all speaking in Portuguese. They seem to know each other and we have already kind of established our friendships so we appear to have formed 2 separate groups. We continue driving, its a three hour drive to the mountains and we only stop once for a break and some snacks. Once we reach the top of the mountain range we unload the mountain bikes, the helmets and pads, and we bike down the other side of the mountain.

Its about a 5 hour ride to the bottom, with views like I've never seen in my life. They literally take your breath away, especially when you get so caught up in them that you crash your bike into the mountain. No one was around and I had all my gear on, so the only damage done was a little chunk of my self esteem and a small sprain on my ankle. We make it to the bottom and its time for lunch, Peruvian food is amazing and cheap (not that it really matters because its all included in the tour anyway). After lunch we find out that Ash, Sabrina, and Tina are all taking the 4 day version of the tour and they will be leaving the group. That seems about right, I would make friends with the only three people in the group that are now separating; leaving me alone with 5 people all speaking in portuguese with each other. The six of us get back in the van, joined now by a new girl who doesn't speak english or spanish very well and absolutely no portuguese, her name is Melanie from Belgium. She was traveling alone and I think that was how she preferred it, she really kept to herself until she too split from our group on the 3rd day... but that to come later. We drive another couple of hours through the mountains to a small little village where we will be staying the night. There is a small hot springs, about a 15 minute walk down the mountain, and the 6 of us decide to check it out.
Now seems like a good time for introductions. There are three guys including myself, and four girls including Melanie. Sleeping arrangements are set up as the three guys in a room, two girls in another room, and the other two in a different room. On our walk to the hot springs, I decide I should find out more about my new group. It turns out that they are all from Brazil. The two guys live a little inland from Rio de Janeiro; their names are Guilherme and Tertuliano. The three girls are traveling together and live in Sao Paulo; their names are Milena, Silvia, and Maria. (Maria isn't really her name either, and I feel a little bad for not remembering it because she didn't leave after half a day). We all seem to get along really well. Tertuliano, Guilherme, and myself are the only ones that decide to go for a swim, and after a few hours, the three of us walk back up the mountain for dinner, beer in hand and one flashlight between the three of us, dodging mud, streams, and cars. After dinner we are told to meet back at the restaurant tomorrow at 830 for breakfast, after which we will continue on our way.

Day 2: We get up and get ready, take yet another cold shower (the Brazilians inform me they've never had to worry about cold showers in Brazil, to which I told them I didn't in the US, but in Chile every now and then it happens). Go to the restaurant, eat breakfast, load our backpacks into the van, and drive about half an hour to our next location. Time to zip line through the canyons. This was a slight additional cost on the overall tour price, but completely worth it! Milena and Silvia chose to do the hike instead, but everyone else was geared up and ready to go. Edson went with the two girls and told the rest of us that there would be a vehicle waiting for us as soon as we were finished to bring us to the next meeting point for lunch.

 It was 120 KM above the ground, there were 6 different lines zigzagging through the canyon, and the view from up there was inexplainable. (The photo is me after the first line, waiting to go on line number 2.) After we'd finished zip lining, we got in the vehicle and went on a death drive to the next meeting place. The mountain roads in Peru are in serious need of a safety inspector. On one side is the mountain, on the other, a cliff. There are no barriers, nothing to stop the inevitable death that would follow a fall from that height. And the drivers don't seem to notice or care because they are just speeding onward, wheels touching the road or not.
After lunch is a three hour hike, following the train tracks through some of the best jungly, mountainous, scenery that Peru has to offer. The end destination is Aguas Calientes, a small town that can only be described as suited for the gods. Built into the mountain, next to a river, and within walking distance to Machu Picchu. We have some free time before dinner here, so Tertuliano, Guilherme, and myself get ready, store our stuff in the room, and walk around the town for a while waiting for dinner. After we walked around for a little bit, we drank a bottle of wine (walking that much makes you thirsty), and then it was time for dinner. This time at dinner we were given a menu (up until then it was all pre-ordered food but still all delicious three course meals) and after dinner we were given our entrance tickets to Machu Picchu and were told that we would be waking up at 4 am to hike the hour or so up the stairs through the mountains to the entrance.

Day 3: Now as much as I'd like to describe Machu Picchu to everyone, there is nothing that I can say or show you to explain the feeling of actually being there. This section is going to be a few photos with some explanations, but that is all I really can offer for Machu Picchu, which may be somewhat anticlimactic and I am sorry for that, but hopefully the photos will give you just enough of a taste to make you want to visit.

The stairs seemed to continue forever, but the view was more than worth the hike. And for those who can't or don't want to take the stairs there is also a bus you can take for 28 dollars one way.

One of the first views from the top.

The start of the tour. After hiking the stairs to Machu Picchu, I had 1 hour to rest and learn about Machu Picchu before having to hike up more stairs (for about another hour) to Huyana Picchu.

This is the view of the ruins from Huyana Picchu. There was an additional fee to get into Huyana Picchu, and they only allow 400 people up, per day (200 at 7am and 200 at 10am) to keep it from getting to crowded. The stairs and some of the trails around the ruins are similar to the mountain roads, one wrong step and it could be your last!
I had to go up to Huyana Picchu alone at 7 while the rest of my group went up at 10, it wasn't so bad though; I met a nice lady from Peru, another lady from Scotland (who had just done the Inca Trail for four days) and a few gentlemen from Spain. After the morning we all met back up and Tertuliano, Guilherme and I went to Ponte Inca (a bridge) and the girls went a different direction to walk around more of the ruins.
After spending most of the day in Machu Picchu, we descended and met back up in the restaurant where we ate dinner the night before. The three of us shared a few beers and some pizza, and once the girls all arrived back we got our train tickets for the trip back to Cusco. The train ride is about an hour and a half long and ends in a town about an hour from Cusco. I encountered a few problems in this town because my name was not on the list with the rest of my group for the bus ride back. So after a little convincing and a lot of persistence, I was able to get a ride in one of the vans that had room. This was officially the end of the tour and the girls were all returning to Sao Paulo the next morning. We all said our goodbyes and then the three of us remaining started walking towards our hotels/hostels.
I knew that I wasn't going to be able to sleep in the first hostel I had stayed at, and after waking up at 4 in the morning and then hiking up two mountains and walking around all day, I needed to find somewhere more suitable for sleeping. I followed the guys back to their hotel to see if there was any rooms available for my remaining two nights in Cusco. There wasn't, but they did direct me to a great hostel that was only a little over a block away. I had my own room, my own bathroom with hot water, and cable TV all for about 15 dollars a night. It was just what I needed, the irony was that when I finally got a place with hot water, I was sunburned and unable to use it!

Day 4: For my final day in Cusco I had decided to spend the morning alone, walking around and finding a few souvenirs and maybe finding a nice little cafe for breakfast. The guys and I had made plans for later in the day so I had until about 11:30 to complete everything on my list. The morning was a success.

Everything you see in this picture was all for under 5 dollars. Like I said, Peruvian food is delicious and cheap!
In the afternoon I met back up with Tertuliano and Guilherme for a trip out to Tipon to try some real cuy at a cuyerilla. It was about a half hour taxi ride to the town and about a 5 minute wait for the cuy, along with some warm beer but I think it was worth it to say that I've tried it... (prepare yourself)

Yes, cuy is guinea pig. We decided that it wasn't awful, but it was a lot of work for little meat and chicken is easier and tastes better. Afterwards, the taxi driver offered to take us up to the ruins in the hills around Tipon and give us a free tour. We accepted and then returned to Cusco in the evening. For my last night we decided that we should visit some of the bars, try some of the local drinks, and party to celebrate being in Peru. We had a great time and the little hangover I had on the flight home at 7 the next morning was worth it!

In the end I've discovered a few things about traveling alone. It takes a certain type of person to be able to do it; they have to be somewhat smart, resourceful, outgoing, calm, and most importantly willing to try new things no matter what they are (a knowledge of the local language helps also). I think I can safely assume that I match all of those requirements and I passed the 'traveling solo' test with flying colors. I made some great friends who have invited me to Brazil (my next big trip I'm planning), learned some useful information for the next time I'm traveling alone (like don't bring a lot of stuff with you, only a small backpacks worth of clothes, and always bring toilet paper when traveling in South America), and have the best stories to tell from my adventures in Peru.

I realize that this is a bit long and I do want to thank you for reading it all the way through (and just know I cut a lot of information out to try to make it shorter, but left in the essentials). I hope everyone is finding themselves in good health and enjoying your fall/winter weather back in the US. Just know that I am nearing summer here and its been rather enjoyable. I leave for a trip to Southern Chile (the island of Chiloe) in 3 days and will no doubt have another great story to tell when I get back. Until that time...
No Vemo Pronto
S.R.

Chapter 9 ~ La Campana Part 2... Night of the Tarantula

In which I will attempt to explain the weekend spent at 'La Campana', the reasons behind my lies in a previous chapter, and what is going to be happening in my near future.


So I'm assuming you must be pretty baffled at this point. I mean you already read what happened at La Campana in Chapter 7, why would there be another chapter about it? Why would anyone want to read into further detail the disastrous effects of Mother Nature and the disappointing outcome of a camping trip. Well allow me to shed some light on this confusion and be the first to tell you that until three nights ago, I had never been to La Campana. Now before everyone accuses me of lying to them please allow me to explain. Apparently I had misinterpreted the entire weekend. When I thought we were going to La Campana, we were actually going to 'Roble'. I don't know where this mixup occurred in my mind; all I know for sure is that I believed so strongly that I was going to La Campana that I had even misread the scheduled outline of the class. So please switch everything discussing La Campana in Chapter 7 to El Roble. Now if you would like to know more information about Roble you will have to refer to the internet, or what I've stated in Chapter 7, because until about a week ago I had no idea what Roble was, let alone that I had even been there for two days. It didn't help that once I found out and explained the situation to my host mother, she didn't know where Roble was either. Now that I've cleared up my little misinterpretation, allow me to share with you the real Campana.

Friday - 8:30 pm: I just finished buying supplies for my Mountain Sports class. They told us today that we are going to be making pizza while camping (I don't know how either), so we need to make sure that we bring all the necessary supplies. I was supposed to meet up with some of my Chilean friends at 7:30 for a Wine Night that is taking place in Valpo, but I didn't get home from buying ingredients for pizza until just now. I still have to pack my hiking backpack because I have left everything for the last minute as usual (I tell myself I work best under pressure, but I hate being rushed; its a catch 22 I guess). I call my friends and tell them that tonight isn't going to work out for the wine night. I have to attempt to go to bed early because I have to leave in the morning by 6:30 at the latest to meet up with the rest of my class by 7. I eat a little something for dinner and begin to pack my camping gear. Sleeping bag, tent, pad to sleep on, clothes, cooking supplies, food, water, juice, deodorant, toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash... The backpack seems bottomless but that only comforts me a little bit, the more I put in it, the heavier it is and I still haven't been able to adjust the straps to fit me properly. I know my uncle and I did it before I left for Chile, but I've lost quite a bit of weight since then and it was empty when we did it. I know that when the class went to Roble, the professor, Rodrigo, took a picture of my backpack to use as an example of what an improperly fitted backpack looks like for future students. I am a little happy to know that I will stay apart of this class even after I return to the US, but a little annoyed about the manner of how I'll be remembered, especially seeing as Rodrigo tried to help adjust the backpack and couldn't figure it out either. I don't have time to think about that right now, its now 10 pm and I'm still not ready for camping. I'll have to raid the cupboards to find some eating utensils and a plate that can be used to cut vegetables on. I don't think Hilda will notice or even mind, its only for two days after all. Ok, I have found everything I need and the house is empty, time to get some much needed sleep (I haven't slept much in the last week; nerves about all the upcoming trips). I lay down, close my eyes, and am about to fall asleep when Hilda comes home. Ok, now that she's home I should go out and say goodnight, so I go to the kitchen. She is eating a whole chicken and seems to be in a good mood. I decide I am hungry and join her, who was I really kidding about trying to fall asleep before midnight. She explains that she has a few friends that are staying the night here and will be showing up at some point during the night. I guess I'm just not meant to sleep at all this week...

Saturday - 5:47 am: My alarm just went off (I can't set my alarm for normal times such as 15 passed the hour, 30 passed, or even 45 passed; its just another quirk I have). I am extremely tired and woke up a lot through the night, but I know if I go back to sleep I'll most likely miss the bus with my class. I get dressed for the day and get ready to leave. I'm a little nervous because I know I have to take a Micro to get to the meeting point, and even though I'm getting used to them a little more, it doesn't mean I'm comfortable with them and I'd still prefer about any other form of transportation. I walk the ten minutes to the bus stop and I wait. After four or five busses pass I think I see one that has the correct sign in its front window (I can never be sure, they go so fast and I can't read them unless they stop or at least slow down, not to mention its still dark so it just makes it that much harder). I flag the bus down and ask the bus driver if he is going to the place I need to go (1 Norte in between 1 and 2 Oriente) he tells me yes, takes my money and doesn't give me change. I'm confused and still really tired so I just ignore the fifty cents or so that he kept and sit down close to the front. I try to keep my eyes peeled but its dark and I'm tired. Finally, when I realize that the bus is not going where I need to go, and this bus driver clearly doesn't plan on telling me, I get off the bus and decide I can just walk from where I am. I make it to the meeting point in plenty of time (the professors had told us the night before that we can be up to 30 minutes late, gotta love Chilean time). We get on another bus towards Limache, then get on yet another bus towards La Campana. We arrive around 9:30 in the morning. Time to set up the tents and get everything ready. I know we aren't ascending the mountain today so I take my time. After everything is set up, we have a quick lecture on how to properly set up a tent, then we are off on a hike. We walk around the trails and learn about the different types of trees in the mountains, which we are told are going to appear on the final exam at the end of the semester. I doubt if I'm even going to remember what their names are tonight. We continue down the path, it is a beautiful day and the views are great, it feels great to be back in the mountains, and then it happens... TARANTULA!!! Ok that may be an overstatement, it is dead when we find it. Now I have to say, my fear of spiders may be lessening, I am brave enough to walk up to it, look at it, and watch as the professor picks it up and then 'plays' with it until finding a final resting place for it off the path. Just because my fear is lessening doesn't mean its gone though, and I can't help but wonder how many more are out there, that aren't dead, that are waiting for me walk by them so they can attack. We continue on a little further and find a few gold mines...

And even though they say not to enter, we enter a few, looking for bats and whatever else we can find. The only flashlight we have is the one on my cell phone, so we can see about as much as if I were holding a candle in the middle of a hurricane. Still its fun and something new. We don't find anything and get to the end of the trail, stop for a break and play a few team building games, and a few games that remind me of grade school. They are fun and a good way to pass the time. We return to camp and make our pizza, from scratch, using nothing but the pans we brought and the little propane cookers we have. It takes a while and the pizzas are small, but they still taste great! Now lunch is over and we have an hour or so for a little nap or some more games. Half the group chooses games and the others go off for some much needed sleep. I went with the games knowing I wouldn't really be able to sleep. After the break its time for some repelling. We walk up a different trail and the professors set everything up and we begin to repel. Its just as much fun as the first time we did it in Las Chilcas. The first time down is a little nerve racking, but after that its a great rush of adrenaline. After that its time for dinner, rice with veggies (I'm in a vegetarian group because I didn't mind only eating veggies a for a few nights). Then its time for a bonfire, some mind racking games, one of which I can't figure out, but I'll have the entire hike tomorrow to do it, and then bed. We have to be up a little before 6 am tomorrow for the big hike...

Sunday - 6:07 am: I feel exhausted. Sharing a small tent between three people in the mountains with no heat doesn't provide much comfort for sleep, especially because last night while I was gathering wood for the bonfire, I encountered my second tarantula. It was under a little crevice and looked like it was in the attack position, or maybe the defense position... either way it was enough to stop me from gathering more firewood and join the rest of the group. We all get up and begin preparing our breakfast. Its freezing outside but I know that in a few short hours I'll be hiking up a mountain in the sun, wishing I were still cold. We eat, wash our dishes, and brush our teeth just in time for the professors to tell us its time to start the hike. Its a little passed 7:15 and we begin on the main trail. We walk for about 15 minutes and then we stop at the entrance to a trail off of the one we are currently on; we are instructed to stretch...

I have never really stretch before a hike before and am a little confused but I do it anyway. The hike begins. It starts out at a little incline but I know its going to get much worse. We are told that the overall hike will take about 4-5 hours to the summit, and then another 3-4 hours to return. We try to play some games and sing some songs to pass the time, but we are running out of breath and wearing out fast. Then we come to our first stop and the view is enough to make anyone want to continue.

That is where we are headed. It still looks so far away. I drink a little water, eat a granola bar, and then continue on. The trail gets increasingly more challenging the further up we go, but hiking in a group keeps everyone motivated to continue. We stop at a few more places and then about two-thirds of the way up we encounter some campers, complete with horses and tents, and one of the horses and I have a stare off...

The views are increasingly better each time we stop, and they are more than enough to keep us going. The air is getting thinner the higher we go, and I have decided to relieve Freddo (one of the guys in my group) of the backpack. I regret it immediately because we have now encountered the hardest and most dangerous part of our hike. the trail is gone and its just small boulders and rocks/dirt from here on out and I have just added an extra 10 pounds to myself, which doesn't sound like a lot, but after hiking all day, not sleeping the night before, and when breathing is difficult, the backpack is a bad idea. Not five minutes after I take over the backpack we encounter this sign...

My morale is getting low, my energy is crumbling like the rocks falling down the mountain side, and the only things keeping me going now are my fellow classmates, the view, and the thought of being able to say I've climbed that mountain to the peak. Well, after all the sleeplessness, all the pain in my thighs, all the sweat and all the lightheadedness, we make it to the top; and I'm not joking when I say that it was more than worth it! Now pictures can't do the view justice, but here are a few to show the reward that followed the last few days...

You could see everything, from the Andes Mountains to the Ocean. It was even possible to see a mountain in Argentina.

Now the decent was pretty bad too. 3 hours of walking down hill, jumping from rock to rock; it was painful on the knees and feet, but I would do it all over again in a second. And as I sit here, typing this message, my entire body sore, I can't help but feel proud, knowing that I did something that not just anyone could do. I am happy to report that by the end of the hike, Cesar (one of the professors), never gave up on helping me figure out the one mind-trick game we had played the night before, and I have now figured them all out. So if any of you are in for a little riddle of a game, just let me know. I did not run into any more tarantulas on the journey and survived the one live tarantula I did run into. I feel sufficiently prepared for Machu Picchu, which I will be leaving for in 4 days. I am going alone, as I've said, and even though I am a little nervous, I know that after this last weekend I will be just fine in Peru. It should make for some great stories, if not anything else.

As always I want to thank all of you readers (I know this was a long entry, and written a little differently) and I hope you all find yourselves healthy and happy. I hope you all enjoy the pictures and rest assured I have hundreds more for when I get home. I want to especially thank everyone in my mountain sporting group who hiked with me this last weekend, you all pushed me and helped to make it to the end! Until the next time...
No Vemo Pronto
S.R.

Chapter 8 ~ The Change

In which I will explain a transformation of grand proportions that takes place after two months of surviving the Chilean culture. 


Something happens in Chile during the month of September, something that is almost impossible to describe and do it justice at the same time. It doesn't happen all at once, it takes a few weeks for it to really sink in, but after it hits you, you realize its a completely different country. These changes take place in every aspect of daily life, whether its the people who seem more friendly all of a sudden, the weather which used to be cold and unbearable and is now sunny and comfortable, the decorations and music that can be found at every corner in celebrations of independence, and the smell of bbq's mixed with spring that put the mind in a state of constant ease and hunger at the same time. The changes can also be found in my personal life. Whether I just recognized someone in a store a month ago I couldn't even find, understood the waitress at the bakery who was telling me I couldn't leave with their glass bottles, or just coming to the realization that everything I have learned about my host family and many of my friends over the past 2 months has been learned in spanish. It leaves a great sense of accomplishment with an aftertaste of belonging to the community and it all starts with the 31st of August, allow me to explain.

On the 31st of August this year, I learned a small but interesting cultural trait about Chile. I believe it was a Wednesday, it was around dinner time and Hilda and I were listening to the radio, preparing dinner (toast with some instant coffee or tea), and waiting for Jaime to get home from work when I heard something on the radio that made me question my translations. I asked Hilda to clarify what I thought I had heard and I don't know if she was just joking with me or not, but I have no reason not to believe her so this is what I'm sticking with. Apparently, on the last day of August, all of the 'elderly' people go out and celebrate the fact that they are still alive. According to what she said, more old people die in the month of August than any other month, and while I have no idea where she would even find such a statistic, or if it is even true, it makes a great excuse for older men and women to go out and pretend that they are 21 again. This got me thinking two things: 1) What a great idea for me when I'm older, only at the end of every month, because why not celebrate the fact that I'm old but still alive and able to go out with friends to enjoy a night of partying; and 2) this could be the theme for my next blog entry, partying in Chile! Clearly one of these is just a joke if you didn't catch on to it, there is no way I could write an entire blog on parties in Chile and keep the readers entertained, so now I just have to decide the proper age to begin my new ritual, I think 30 is old enough.

Then began the month of September, the month of celebrations. I just spent the last three days going to different bbq's with family and friends and celebrating the 18th, the Chilean Independence day. This independence day, and the bbq's that go along with it, is equivalent to the US's 4th of July celebrations, if those celebrations were on steroids and the 4th of July was really the month of July. I'm going to do my best to describe everything that happened in one of the bbq's, then just multiply that day by three and you'll be sitting right where I am at this moment. It starts in the afternoon, around 1, and it starts with terremotos. A terremoto (other than an earthquake) is the name of a typical chilean drink that consists of wine mixed with pisco (booze) and some type of frozen pineapple sorbet, I begin with 5 of them. Now it is 130 and other people start showing up for the bbq with more food and more wine/booze. If I have learned anything about bbq's here in Chile it is this, they are not about the food, but about the company. I know, I was disappointed too, for me everything is about the food, especially when it is amazing chilean bbq food. So then while the chefs prepare the bbq, the rest of the people sit around and drink wine, play typical chilean games, listen to typical chilean music, and dance typical chilean dances. The weather could not have been more perfect, sunny with a very slight breeze, and I had a bottle of wine to hold me off until the food was ready. If I haven't said it yet, Chilean wine is one of their most prized possessions, they are very proud of it and for very good reasons. They claim that it is the best wine in the world and while I can't say whether that claim is true or false, I can say that their wine is very good, and very cheap. An average bottle of wine costs about 8-10 dollars if there are no promotions going on, and while you may be thinking a bottle of wine that cheap in the US is bound to taste like fermented sewer water, just remember that it is comparable to a bottle of 20-25 dollar wine in the US, aka average. So there I was drinking my wine and playing a chilean game that I'll call 'frog' because I don't really know what the name is I just know it consists of throwing discs (resembling thick quarters) at this table with holes and a frog. Each of the holes you make it in have different points corresponding to them and if you are lucky enough to make it in the frogs mouth its 2000 points, I was lucky enough to accomplish this once. After a few glasses of wine and one or two games of 'frog' the first round of food was ready, choripan. Choripan is an amazing chilean dish that is chorizo on a bun with ahi (a chilean spicy sauce) and mayo. Simple yet effective, I ate four of them. Afterwards, we all go back to our chit chat while the main course is prepared. The main course consists of every type of meat found in Chile; chicken, pork, cow, and varies from steak, to ribs, to chops. While some people are preparing the meat, others are preparing the salads, also varying greatly and most I couldn't tell you what was in them but they were all delicious. After dinner, the drinks switch to pisco sours, piscolas, beer, whiskey, and rum. I had a 'little' of everything. That isn't the interesting part, what is interesting is what the Chileans do with these drinks. For instance, they have something called 'fanchop' and I'm guessing on the spelling, but it is fanta (that orange soda that everyone loves) mixed with beer. I did drink one just to try it and it didn't turn out to be too bad, one of the other people at the bbq was mixing their beer with coke, which I just tried a sip of theirs, and it wasn't as bad as I was expecting. They also have something called 'jote' which is wine mixed with coke. I had a few of these and was pleasantly surprised at the flavor, its definitely something I could drink from time to time; and just for those that were wondering we were using a Cabernet Sauvignon. After a little clean up and people have had a few more cocktails, the dancing begins. The main dance, known as the cueca, is the national dance of Chile and a tradition of the 5th region (where I live), and practically everyone knows it, or at least parts of it. Now don't worry, I got my chance, several chances actually, to dance the cueca and I assure everyone, regardless of what my host mother and the other Chileans were saying, I am not that good at it. There was also an extremely nice Peruvian couple that were celebrating with us and taught us a little bit of their traditional dances, which are more fast paced but really entertaining. SideNote: I really got along with the Peruvian couple, and I'm not sure if its because Peruvians are known for their amazing food, or if its because they are also known for their clear, enunciated speaking, which was a nice change from the rapid fire, short, made up words the chileans are known for. It showed me how far my spanish has really come when I was talking with them... Now all of these festivities end around 1 in the morning, after most of the people have left and there are just a few of us sitting around the fire and finishing up the remaining bottles. Now do this three days in a row and you'll be sitting right where I am... It was in those bbq's however, that I finally saw what made people fall in love with Chile, they have a great sense of hospitality about them, and they sure know how to have a bbq. Its enough to make anyone want to pack up and move here and it helps remind me why I'm here in the first  place.

On a completely separate topic now, I finally felt my first ever earthquake about a week ago. Now when I say 'major earthquake' it was a 5.9 on the richter scale so for me it was an earthquake, for the Chileans who are way to comfortable with them, it was just a little tremble. Now I'm not saying I was scared, but I will explain the reasons as to why I wasn't. The earthquake took place at about 4 in the morning, and I was sound asleep dreaming about random crap that isn't really important to this story. What is important is the vividness of my dreams. For those of you who do not know this about me, I have extremely vivid dreams, so vivid that if I dream that someone is standing in my bedroom with knife, when I wake up I can still see the person in my bedroom. This kind of thing has been happening to me for years and I am used to it now, but when it first started happening it scared the living hell out of me. So on this particular instance, when my bed started to shake and I started to come too, I could see the outline of a person trying to wake me up. Well I wasn't ready to wake up yet so I started to tell the person to leave me alone and let me sleep when I realized that some of the books on my shelves were falling on the floor. Finally I realized what was actually going on and fumbled around for the light so I could see the extent of damage but by the time I finally found the light, the earthquake had ended. Hilda, worried about how I would react to my first earthquake in Chile came strolling down the stairs to check on me only to find that I had already shut off my light and had gone back to bed. I didn't get a whole lot of sleep after that because the after shocks continued throughout the rest of the morning. It was definitely a great experience and I'm glad that I was in Chile to witness an earthquake, but one is plenty. It is interesting to hear the Chileans talk about them though. They are so used to them that they have different words for them. A temblor is a little earthquake while a terremoto is an 'actual' earthquake. Now before last week I would have thought that a 5.9 was an actual earthquake, but for them it was nothing more significant than someone stomping through the house making some noise. Why anyone would want to be that accustomed to earthquakes is completely beyond me, but I guess there are two choices; adapt or move, they chose to adapt.

Other than that not much has been going on. I am currently on 'spring break' and while most of the students took off to other parts of South America (Argentina, Peru, Bolivia) I have decided to stay in Chile and explore this area more. I have visited 'La Sebastiana' (One of the three houses of the late poet Pablo Neruda) and plan on taking a day trip to 'La Isla Negra' at some point this week to visit another of them, and according to locals, the best of the three. I am also taking this week to go around getting to know the city more and getting a lot of great pictures, of the bbqs, the city, and the sites. And while I don't have them downloaded on my computer yet, hopefully on the next chapter I will have a few good pictures posted. Still no volunteer job which is proving to be more difficult than I'd expected, but it is really nice to not have anything but school for a change. I am really starting to understand why the Chileans are known for relaxing, it is great! I also have my trip to Machu Picchu planned; I will be going alone unfortunately, but will be flying and then taking the train for the first time in my life so it should be a really great time. I also got the Peruvian couple I mentioned earlier to help me out because they know of some real money savers when visiting Peru, so that turned out to be another advantage to meeting them! My host sister, Silvana, is back in town for about a week and it has been a lot of fun seeing her and getting to spend more time with her, and I will still be going down to Chiloe to visit in the first week of November. My spanish is improving daily but I still encounter a ton of obstacles and have daily struggles with understanding certain people. Having said that, I also have days where my spanish is good enough for Chileans to ask me why I am so much more advanced than the other foreign students so that is always a self-esteem booster.

I am always appreciative to my readers and I really enjoy the comments I'm getting on here and on facebook. Thank you all for your support and I can't wait until I see you all again in December! Stay happy, stay healthy, and thats all until the next chapter...
No Vemo Pronto
S.R.

Chapter 7 ~ La Campana

In which I explain what happens when mother nature decides to take things into her own hands...


First I'll tell you what I don't have. I don't have very many good pictures of 'La Campana', if any at all. I don't have the experience of sleeping two nights in the mountains of Chile. I don't have a group (I'll explain this shortly). As for what I DO have; I have a cold, I have extremely muddy clothes and shoes, I have a bruise on my chest, but most importantly and above all other things, I have a story.

To start this story we have to go back a few days before the trip. The way my mountain sporting class is set up is in two groups. In each of the groups, the students are split into small sub-groups of three or four. I chose to join the group with the vegetarian German couple, meaning I wouldn't be able to eat meat during the trips, and I would have to share a tent with a couple. The three of us decided that it would be easier, because they were the members of the group that were 'picky' eaters and they lived together, that they could go out and get the food and I would just pay them when we met up to leave on the trip. They also thought that they could find a tent for us so I wouldn't have to worry about that. The day before we left and two days after I had spoken with them last, I sent them a message asking if everything was ready, and if not what could I do to help. About one hour later I received a response with a sincere apology saying that neither of them would be able to make it on the trip because they were both feeling sick. Now is where the story gets interesting. While I don't blame them, after all people get sick, I was still a little upset, because the two members of the group that were supposed to have everything were no longer going, and I am now without a group, and without supplies for the trip tomorrow. I quickly e-mailed the professors explaining the situation, stating that I need a tent for camping, just for myself, and  anything else they could supply me with. I then went out to go to the store (during the national strike going on outside) to pick up food for two days. I stayed in Vina, because the riots almost always stay in Valpo, and went to the Jumbo (store for foreigners, similar to an unorganized Wal*Mart). I picked up food that was already ready to eat, applesauce, bread, peanut butter (which was the first american food I had eaten in over a month), cereal  bars, dried fruit, and you get the idea. I was trying to find food that was easy to eat, and that I wouldn't need to cook, so I could avoid packing cooking gear, and avoid buying a gas canister. The store was a success, all food purchased and all for under 20 dollars. When I returned to the house, I had received an e-mail from the professors. It was a short response and my feelings were mixed on its contents. On one hand I had a tent, great news; on the other hand, it was the same tent that the professors were sleeping in.

The next day, I had all of my gear packed in my hiking backpack supplied by my amazing Uncle Mike (thanks a million it worked out really well) and I was ready to meet the rest of the class. We met up at 3 in the afternoon and headed out using the metro and then a bus, and then the rest of the trail by foot. We were told that it would take about 2 hours to hike to our camping spot, and then tomorrow we would be able to leave most of our supplies with our tents and hike the rest of the trail (to the peak) with less weight. That sounded good to me, so we started the hike. It was about five o' clock when we started and I knew that most of the hike would be made at night. It was colder up in the mountains and there were clouds everywhere. I knew that the likelihood of rain was pretty high, and I also knew that in the mountains there might even be a chance of snow. The hike itself wasn't bad at all, a little tiring, but overall fun and it felt great to be out in the mountains. Fresh, clean air, no sounds of traffic, no sirens, it was nice. And even though it was pitch black for most of the hike, and the fog was too dense to see anything during the day portion of the hike, I knew in the morning when we woke up, we would be able to see just how high we'd hiked! After the two hour hike, we made it to the campsite, and we started to set up immediately, that was when the rain and wind started.

My first goal was to find a tent to sleep in, because even though I had been promised the tent with the professors, they had a third, unknown professor, join them, and the thought of me and three professors sharing a tent on the first trip, well lets just say I was not looking forward to it. I asked around and found out the tent that could fit six people only had five in it so far, so I told the professors that I was going to join that tent, said goodnight to the other people and went to join my new group.

I was placed against the wall of the tent, which I would have been fine with had the weather been cooperative. Now anyone who has ever been camping in a tent knows that even if it doesn't rain, the morning dew usually covers the outside of the tent, which is where it stays, unless someone touches the tent. With six people sharing one tent, it was impossible not to touch the tent. The weather that night was unbelievable. The wind was so strong I thought the tent was sure to collapse, the rain pounded at the tent with such force there was a possibility that it would puncture it soon, and the whole time I am lying next to the side of it, getting slapped in the face with the wet tent, and feeling the cold seep through my sleeping bag. I think it is fairly safe to say that no one got sleep that night, and in the morning when we woke up, snow covered the ground and tents and the sleet continued.

Now the professors were faced with a choice, and if it was only the snow we were up against, I feel safe in saying we would have continued. But morale was low with the students, some were wet, most were tired, and all were cold. On top of everything else, the narrow trails leading up to the peak and back to the base were now slippery mud and almost impossible to walk on. With everything looking the way it did, the professors decided to surrender and face defeat to mother nature, we would pack our things and head back down the mountain. Now for me, growing up in the mountains in Montana, I am accustomed to this. Sometimes camping trips are ended much earlier than expected due to bad weather, even with this I was disappointed. Instead of getting away for a fun weekend of camping, with campfire games and pictures of the scenery, I was  cold and wet and tired and now in for a two and a half hour hike through the mud. I did attempt at a few pictures because it was, despite the weather, extremely beautiful up in the mountains, but most either turned out blurry or dark, but I have something better than those pictures. I have the memory and the experience.

The trip may not have been what I was expecting, but really when is anything in life what you expect it to be. I survived, I made some good memories, and even better I made some great friends. It is difficult to spend one sleepless, cold, wet, night in a tent with five strangers and not make friends. And because our weekend was shot, we decided to go home, shower, nap, and wake up and go out that night. We went out, we had fun, and even better I took the micro home and got off on the right stop for the first time yet! And even though I'm lying in bed right now, sick with a cold, and piled up with homework I don't plan on doing, I am glad for every second of it.

PS. Apparently there was a fairly sizable earthquake when I was out with my friends, but I was either too drunk, or too busy in the club to even notice it.

Also I am sorry to all those that were looking forward to the pictures, I will have some on facebook and I will have some when I return home to show people, but none will be on the blog. Thanks as always for reading, you have no idea how much I appreciate it. I hope you are all finding yourselves in good health.
Until the next chapter...
No Vemo Pronto
S.R.

Chapter 6 ~ Food is Food

In which I explain the difference in foods and habits of eating, and while there are many changes in their habits compared to the United States, one thing never changes; boredom equals hungry. 


Well I'm stuck in the house for the next couple of days. As I have previously explained, there are a number of student riots and marches going on throughout Chile, protesting and requesting reform in the education system. Well instead of slowly being resolved it seems that it may be getting a little worse for a while. For today and tomorrow there is a 'National Strike' going on and, as far as I can tell, all schools in Chile have been shut down for both days. Due to these strikes, I have received numerous e-mails from the US Department of State, the US Embassy in Chile, and my home institution stating an increase in danger for the next couple of days. At the same time I'm receiving these e-mails my host mother keeps assuring me that where we live is safe and I could even wander around Vina if I'd like, just as long as I don't go anywhere near Valpo. Now I have had to fight with my other half and I am forcing myself to remain in the house, but after a friend of mine told me that they could see all of the marches from their balcony and they have several pictures of it I have encountered a little jealousy and want pictures of it too. And even though Jaime has told me it is dangerous for him to live that close, even from a balcony, in case of bombs, I still feel like my adventure into the riot would make an amazing story! Anyway I have drifted from the topic I promised in the beginning. This was just leading into it because I am now stuck in the house, with the potential of getting bored, and nothing makes me miss food like being bored.

Now I am well aware that I have already discussed a little bit about food in the chapter on my daily life, but seeing as I have nothing to discuss until I get back from my camping trip this upcoming weekend, I figured my blog could use a filler. I must first tell a bunch of my readers (including my cousin Tom) that they will be disappointed to find out there is no such thing as chili in Chile (and to think I almost used 'Chili in Chile' for the title of my blog). I discovered this because of an interesting tradition they have here in Chile. When it has been raining for a few days, it is tradition in Chile to make "sopaiapillas". This amazing piece of fried pumpkin bread is delicious and worth every ounce of grease ingested in every bite. Back home, my mother makes a version of these every time she makes chili, so while I was eating them I decided I'd bring it up and wait for the outcome. I ended up explaining what chili was (difficult in itself) all to discover they don't have anything of the sort here. Which I found slightly interesting because I have some type of soup almost every day for lunch. And I'm not complaining, because I like all of them, and I like soup, but every day is almost overdoing it. And when you join the soup with the salad that is always on the table, with the bread of course, well it just sort of feels like I have been at the 'never ending soup, salad, and breadsticks' at Olive Garden for over a month now. And when I say never ending I mean never ending. I don't have to go into how much bread I eat again do I?

Aside from that, I am not getting as much meat as I am used too. They make some type of meat on some days on some of the weekends, and sometimes during the week there will be lunch meat available to accompany the bread, but other than that, I'm really not eating meat. And according to my professor, fruits and vegetables are much cheaper here, but no one really ever eats them. I don't find it true in my house, we always have fruits and veggies around, but that might be because we don't really have a lot of meat. And generally, all the way around I have found that foods and alcohol are much cheaper comparative to the US, but clothes (sold in stores) are much more expensive. It is easy to side step the expensive clothes by buying them from the street vendors if you have enough courage, and if you do have enough courage for the street vendors, you can find almost anything cheaper.

Well I think I have rambled on for a sufficient amount of time now, it is my host mothers birthday today, so she has invited all of her girlfriends over and pisco sours are a must. Tomorrow her and Jaime are going out to trade in their vehicle for a 2012, because apparently they trade it in every 5 years for a brand new one, must be nice. The only problem with that is now I have no idea what to get her for her birthday, because I can't top a new car. Also, I am going to use this as a tester for adding pictures, and if it works, I will add some good pictures from my camping trip I'm taking this weekend. My mountain sports class is going to 'La Campana' for a few days. Should be a good time, and I should have some good stories/pictures for when I get back. Until then I hope everyone is doing well in the US and thank you all for your continued reading...
No Vemo Pronto
S.R.
(From left to right: My host brother Felipe (lives in Chiloe), my host sister Alejandra (lives half the time in Santiago and half the time with us), my host sister Silvana (twin of Alejandra and lives in Chiloe), myself, and my host mother Hilda) The dog is Pepe, he is a little mean, has bit me once, but I'm getting used to him and he is getting used to me. Jaime (my host father) could not appear because he was at work and this was the last chance I had with all of my host siblings.

Chapter 5 ~ Micros, Colectivos, Metros, and More

In which I explain my first experience in a micro, my first experience on going out in Chile, and my first time going out for my mountain sporting class. Get ready to read...


So I'm sure by now that a fair few of you have been wondering why I entitled this blog "Climbing with Chileans". Well now is the time where I will explain everything. I am taking a class called 'Deportes de Montanas' which is, in essence, an extreme mounting hiking, rock climbing, camping class. As a group, we go on different types of trips, usually to the mountains, or somewhere near the mountains, and we commence the mountain sports. I have just successfully completed my first rock climbing outing. As a class we went out to Las Chilcas and climbed some pretty impressive 'cliffs'. After climbing them we repelled down and started over. I repelled down different canyons about 5 times, and I climbed two different sides of the cliff three times. Side Note: If I knew how to get the pictures up on this site, I would, but until I learn how all of the pictures will be on facebook (sorry to those of you who do not have a facebook page and/or are not friends with me). The experience of saying I have climbed and repelled down a mountain is one that I will remember forever. It was thrilling and exciting getting up that high and knowing that the only thing saving you from plummeting to the ground was a rope and your climbing abilities. It was all the more impressive that the only training they gave us was climbing up one rock wall at their gym that quite frankly my grandmother could have climbed without using her hands. So when I was asked if this class was going to be physically demanding, after only having such little training, I said no. And while it didn't require a lot of physical strength, it was much more challenging than I had anticipated, and yet, everyone was able to climb to the top and everyone repelled down. Its amazing how much we can accomplish if we put are minds to it, even if we did have to meet at 6:30 am that morning.

Meeting that early in the morning was no fun task I assure you, mostly because the metro station was closed and I had to take a micro or a colectivo (which I had only taken once, a taxi with a certain route). As I stated in a previous chapter, I had only been taking the metro everywhere because it was easy, cheap, and impossible to get lost on. Well I knew that the day would come when I would have to take that dreadful micro (a city bus), and it did come, on an unfortunate Friday. This story, as to why I despise all busses requires a little bit of back story, so I will take you back to the not so distant past, in January of 2010. It was on this cold January day, in downtown Minneapolis, that I was required to take a city bus to my school, for the first time in my life. I had been over the route with my roommate and she assured me that it was super easy and that I couldn't mess it up if I tried. Well I didn't try to mess it up, and yet somehow I did. I got off on the stop after mine and had to backtrack a couple of blocks to get to my class on time, which in itself isn't so bad, but it was winter in the midwest, and I had to cross a bridge, on foot. So that started the experience, and then, on that same day, I had to take the bus back home. Well this time I was prepared, I had counted the stops and knew that after so many stops it was mine and I would not mess it up this time. Well, I had no idea that the bus had a few more stops on the way back and so when I was counting out the stops, I had no idea that the bus was not nearly as far as it should have been. So after the number of stops had passed I knew that the next stop was mine and I got off the bus, only to realize a second to late that it was not my stop. I had to walk, in the snowy cold winter, 2 miles to get back to my house, and ever since that day I have despised all busses, even if everything goes well on them, I would just prefer to walk or bike, or crawl, or just about anything but take a bus. To add a little to that story, my sense of direction (while it has improved over the years) is still astonishingly infantile. So when I am in a new area, and I don't have any landmarks to help me know where I am, and don't recognize anything around, I get a little nervous and my brain doesn't seem to work as well. Having said all of that, the story of what happened this last Friday can now begin.

I was to meet my Mountain Sports class in Sausalito at 5:20 that evening, I had a map and the numbers of the micros that I could take. I had never really been to Sausalito, and I knew it was in the hills so I wouldn't really be able to see the ocean to help with my direction, and the fact that it was in a known 'shady' part of town only bothered me a little bit. I had been waiting to take a micro until I had to, and now that I had to, I was wishing I had more experience on them. But I still went to that bus stop, and I had to wait, and watch as 3 of the micros I could have taken passed by. Here in Chile, the micros don't really stop, you just have to flag them down and they'll pull up to the curve and you jump on while its still sort of moving. Finally, after about 15 minutes one of the micros that I could take stopped, all the way, because it was stuck behind a few other micros that were unloading. I ran to the micro, stepped on the first step, and that is when things started going wrong... As soon as I got on, the driver decided to pull away from the curb, into speeding traffic, which threw me against the railing, knocking the wind out of me. Then, I walk up to the driver to pay and tell him where I am going, and he immediately says something that I couldn't understand. So with my look of confusion, and lack of a response, he grins and asks me where I am going. Well I knew exactly where I wanted to go, so I told him the stop that I needed and he shook his head that he understood, told me how much it was (about 1 dollar) and we were off. I was trying to memorize as much as I could about where we were going, and I knew that as soon as we crossed the bridge, I had to count out 12 street crossings and get off the micro at the 12th. Well lets just say that it is almost impossible to do that here. Half of the 'crossings' are only on one side, none of the streets are clearly labeled, and we are going what feels like 300 miles an hour. So after a few minutes I decide that I should just go to the front of the bus and remind the driver that I need to get off at 12 Norte. When I reach the bus driver and ask where 12 Norte is, he laughs and says that we passed it a little bit ago. He then pulls up to the curb and in the words of my dad's girlfriend, I had to tuck and roll, because he was not going to stop. Now, all I know is that we passed where I needed to be, I am in a semi-bad part of town, and I have 20 minutes to get to class. So I start walking, backtracking until the road comes to a Y, and I can't find a street sign, and knowing that if I look too lost, or too much like a 'Gringo' I will be an easy target for pick-pocketing. I decide to go with my gut, which doesn't exactly steer me wrong, and since I have no idea where the other road would have led me, I am going to say I chose correctly. After walking around for a few minutes, I decide to just ask the next person I see how to get to Sausalito. It turned out to be a nice old woman with no teeth, who was almost impossible to understand, but I just went in the direction that she pointed me in, and after a few more minutes I made it to the class, barely late and glad to have made it! My first order of business in class was to find someone who was going to the same place as I was after class and follow them, and what I ended up finding was so much better.

I found a group of people who were planning on going out that night, and were planning on walking to the metro station as a group; just the things I had hoped to find! I got some of their numbers on the walk to the metro station and told them I would call them at 10:30 (the absolute earliest anyone goes out in Chile). I got home and told Hilda that I had plans to go out finally and would be leaving soon. She was really excited to hear this news because I had yet to go out with friends in the 3 weeks I had been here and that is really unusual behavior to Chileans. Every weekend she always asked if I had plans with friends, and every weekend I responded with 'not yet'. So she made me some food, I ate, and then she sent me on my way. My friend called me with a change of plans and said that we were meeting at 10:30 at his place to pre-game a little before we go out, and he asked me to bring something. I stopped at a liquor store to find out about the most amazing promotion I have ever heard of. On Friday and Saturday nights, the liquor stores here have a promotion for a bottle of either pisco (Chilean alcohol that is amazing) rum, or vodka, a 2 liter bottle of soda, and a bag of ice; all for just over 8 dollars. So, now loaded up with booze, ice and a mixer, I head out to my friends house with the directions he gave me, and I could take the metro! It was going to be a great night. I called him when I got to the street he lived on, he met me out by the gate (all houses have locked gates) and we started to climb the 3 flights of stairs to get to his host family's castle. Now I am extremely happy with my host family, they are great and I would never think of trading them, but my friend's host family is in a whole other dimension. As soon as we got to the top of the stairs, I started for the front door, to which he told me no, the party house is to the left. His host family has a separate building for parties!? This party 'room' had a pool table, a flat screen TV on the wall playing music videos, a bar, and seating for everyone. After congratulating myself on friend selection, we began the night. After my bottle of pisco was gone, we decided to go out to a club that his host brothers could get us into for free. At about 3:30 some of our group was a little hungry and a little tired. We went to get a 'completo' (a hot dog with a lot of avocado, mayo, and tomatoes and is equivalent to the US's big mac) and then we called it a night. I had to take a micro home, because the metro closes after 10:30, and once again I got off on the stop after mine. This time it wasn't exactly my fault, I was slightly intoxicated, it was dark, and the driver was speeding. So by the time I realized we were at my stop and I pulled the cord to tell the driver to stop, it was too late. I only had to backtrack a little, but made it home in one piece at around 4:30. It was a successful night.

I would like to add that I have since taken a few more micros and have yet to get off on the right stop, but I have also made it to where I need to go so it hasn't been a complete failure. I would also like to add just one more interesting fact about where I am living. In the United States we have ice cream trucks that drive a little slower and play music (you know the type of music, that high pitched whistling). Well here in Chile, they also have a truck that drives a little slower and plays the same type of high pitched music, except here it is the gas truck (Chileans have propane looking tanks of gas to heat their water and what not, and they have to replace the tanks twice a month). And the last truck that passed was playing the song 'Silent Night'. Interesting....

Anyway I know this was a bit longer than the usual, and I want to thank all of you that stuck through it until the end. I really appreciate it and I hope you are all finding yourselves in good health.
No Vemo Pronto
S.R.

Chapter 4 ~ Its a Dog Eat Dog World

In which I explain my daily life as a South American, some differences between here and the US, and I finally have the truth on toilet flushing...


It is a strange concept, time. It is difficult to grasp how, depending on what you are thinking about or doing in any given moment, the speed of time changes. For instance, when you are having a great time, or are on vacation, or sleeping even, time doesn't seem to slow down. It even seems to accelerate. But then the second you are homesick, or are in class, or waiting for 3 hours to get an ID at what can only be described as the DMV, sitting there, on the floor because there are too many people to even find a good place to stand; time finds the breaks. And now that 3 hours, or that 1 hour and 45 minutes remaining of class, or that 4 months until you return home seems like it will NEVER arrive. Time, for me anyway, seems to be a teenager learning to drive for the first time. Sometimes the foot slips and you accelerate into next week, and sometimes they just can't find the courage to go the speed limit on the interstate. What I'm doing with my time, however, is what this whole trip is really about.

So, what is it like, being a South American? Incredibly it can be described using only one word, relaxed. I will take you on an average day with me to show you what it is exactly that I mean. I wake up in the morning everyday (except Tuesdays because I have class) at around 10. My host mother, Hilda, makes me breakfast, which usually consists of bread with a variety of toppings on the side. She has homemade jams, she has different kinds of cheese that I still have no idea what they are, she has honey, she has butter, and if there was something else I wanted on my toast that morning, she would find it. Sometimes there is a bowl of cut up fruit and yogurt but that isn't everyday, bread is every day. After we eat breakfast, depending on the day, I either get ready for class or go in my room and relax, because breakfast was extremely stressful. After a few hours of relaxing it is time for lunch, the main, and only big meal of the day. I have yet to know exactly what I am eating, but it is always good. It is usually some kind of stew, or soup, with salad and bread. Of course there is bread, just assume from now on that there is always bread and it will make envisioning this a lot easier. So after lunch, I generally take a nap. Not a long one, only about an hour, just enough to sleep off that huge lunch I just ate. After my nap, I try to be productive, so that is when I go for a walk usually, to get to know the city, to do something, really anything that day. After my walk its time for 'once', the spanish word for 11, and what they call dinner. It also consists of, you guessed it, bread! Also, just so it is clear, all beverages are either tea, or instant coffee. I drink a LOT of tea and instant coffee, and water. If I drank milk, which I don't, but if I did, my only option would be the powdered milk that they have here. After 'once', Hilda and I clean up the kitchen and then generally play cards until 930, 10, after which, I go to my room and either watch a movie on my laptop, listen to music and play a game until around 2 or 3. Then I go to bed and start the whole process over the next day... life is a little rough right now.

What I didn't include in my daily life rituals, were my classes. I have no classes on Mondays, so what you read above is usually my Monday. Tuesday is the rough day, I have class from 8:15 until about 3:30 that day. Wednesday I only have one class from 11:45 until 1:30. Thursday I have class from 10:15 until 1:30, and Friday I have my favorite class so far, Deportes de Montanas, from 5:20 until 7:20. Because I have only had classes for one week I will wait to discuss them in more detail until further into the semester. All I can say right now, is they are small, consisting of only 9 or 10, and seem to have no real structure that I can tell right now. Interesting, yes, fun, sometimes, easy, well thats to be determined. This relaxed schedule I have had for the past couple weeks is going to change very soon, I have a lot planned for the upcoming months, but for now, its just kind of nice to not have much to do.

As for the introduction, I promised the truth about toilet flushing. Thanks to two of the best friends in the world (Chris and Ashley), I promised I would mention them, we have finally discovered the myth of the toilet flush. It was said, by many people, and only now am I wondering why I believed them and all their stupidity, that once you cross the equator, the toilet flushes in the opposite direction. Well, after a few tests, and thanks to the wonderful invention of Skype, I can safely say that it is NOT true. The toilet flushes in the same direction no matter where you are in the world.

And as for the title of this chapter. If Bob Barker ever came to Chile, he would die, if he isn't dead already, I'm not sure how old he is but he looks about 104. Anyway, the reason is, there are literally thousands of dogs living on the streets here. None of them are fixed, and most look malnourished. Some are nice, but I'd say the majority are skittish and mean at times. On any given walk, I see about 10 dogs roaming around, fighting with each other, looking through garbages, eating off of outdoor tables left unattended. And they bark, constantly and I mean CONSTANTLY, all night long. Most nights I am accustomed to it, but some nights it is hard to sleep.

Well, further chapters to look forward too consist of Mountain Climbing, surfing lessons, Machu Picchu, and further traveling. All of these activities are going to make that time that I mentioned earlier fly by.

Until the next chapter, Thanks for reading!
Nos Vemos Pronto
S.R.

Chapter 3 ~ Las Calles de Vina Del Mar

In which I discuss my first week surviving in Chile, my week of orientation, and what I still have to look forward too in the coming months.


Well, one week down and not one spider! For those of you that are wondering, I hate, and I mean HATE, spiders. I have not seen one spider since arriving here! I may have just jinxed myself by stating that, but I wanted to celebrate a little bit. As for the rest of my first week a lot has happened.

First, I want to congratulate myself for venturing off on my own and only getting lost every other time. Everyday, except the first day I was here, I have ventured off on my own to learn my way around the city and to pass the time. I have only been lost a handful of times but seeing as I am writing this blog, I have found my way back to my house every time! Everyday my spanish is getting better and every night my brain is full of new information. I am exhausted after a full day of translating every single word spoken that day. But my comprehension has improved immensely and my speaking skills have become more rapid and with more fluency. I still struggle a lot, and by struggle I mean that half the time I'm talking to someone they are looking at me like I am a down syndrome three year old. But as for the host family they are amazing. My host mother, Hilda, is truly a generous person. Everyday she makes all my meals (lunch is the main meal, the others usually consist of bread and tea or instant coffee), she makes my bed, and does my laundry. I would like to clarify something here, I make my own bed every morning, but every day I return to my room, and I don't know when she is doing it, but my bed is re-made. My host sister, Silvana, has left and returned to her home in Chiloe, but has told me to come and visit her soon. Felipe, my host brother, leaves tomorrow night for his home in Chiloe. I will miss them both, but will see them when I make my way down south. Jaime, my host father, is a busy person but extremely nice. He works at a hospital an hour and a half away. He leaves before anyone wakes up in the morning and doesn't return until about 7:30 at night. I see him for about a half hour everyday and then he goes to bed. And, lastly, Alejandra, my other host sister and the twin of Silvana, lives in Santiago with her pololo (boyfriend in Chilenismo) for three or four days a week, and lives here the remainder of the time. We also have another college student that 'lives' with us but I honestly have only seen him twice, Damion.

The reason I have only seen him twice brings us to our next topic, the University. I don't know if it is my fault for not researching more thoroughly, or if I should blame ISEP for not sending me an e-mail until yesterday (a week after I've already been here), or if it is something the school should have brought to my attention before I arrived, but the school I am supposed to be attending is closed. Not for good, but the students are 'rioting', for lack of a better word. All of the students and most of the faculty are on strike from the school and have shut it down for a better educational system. The school system currently is too expensive for them, and has too few benefits to make up for the cost. All of this is coming from my translations of what people are telling me, so if you don't agree with it, that is completely fine with me. Regardless, all of the classes that I would have been able to take with the other Chilean students are not starting on time, and nobody knows when they are going to resume. I have been informed that this is not a violent protest, but could turn violent at any time. The students, including Damion, have been having marches and demonstrations and have surrounded the school's main building, and most of the other buildings for that matter, and won't allow others entrance. It is a fascinating time to be in Chile, thats for sure. I had no idea that I would be here witnessing history being made, and while that is all great, there are a few problems with it also. For instance, my schedule, which I am very happy with, has been changed, and the buildings where the classes for the foreign students are normally held, have also been changed. I had hoped to attend a few classes with Chileno students, but seeing as no one knows when those classes will start and if they don't start soon I may not get credit for them, I have decided to only take the classes offered to the foreigners.

I have been placed in an advanced communication and culture class, and have decided to fill the remaining spaces as follows: I am talking the Mountain sports class (to be explained at a later time), a history of Latin America course, some kind of beginner art course called taller de papel (paper workshop), and a history of Valparaiso course. They all seem interesting and fun and my schedule is amazing. I have no classes on monday and only one on friday (Deporte de montanas) so that is great. And I have no classes that run later than 3:30, so the nights are mine to do whatever I choose. I have met a few people, but I have yet to make any close friends. I am holding out until school starts to see what all my options are, I wouldn't want to settle for a friend that is only kind of cool, when there might be one that is as awesome as I am!

Other than that, and I know this post is a tad bit long, I haven't done much of anything. I have been hanging out with my family a lot and have been wondering the streets during the days. The only transportation I have used so far is the metro, because its super easy and cheap and I know how to use it now so it would be hard for me to get lost on it. Buses, on the other hand, I am terrible at taking. I am waiting to use those until I know more about the city and until I can understand the Chilenos a little better. As far as what I have to look forward too, surfing lessons, a trip to Machu Picchu, and one other adventure to a country that is yet to be determined. Classes start on tuesday for me and I have a carete to attend tonight. (Carete is the chilenismo term for party)

Until next time
Nos vemos pronto
S.R.