Heads up

Sorry my posts are sporadic, I have not had internet connection and now am back to working.  Will try to "back-post" on the weekend!

Coastal Drive - along Chile´s Hwy 1

San Pedro de Atacama is sort of out in the middle of nowhere in Chile´s Atacama desert.  We were trying to get there from Iquique and let me tell you it´s a process.  We woke up in the morning and caught a cab to the market where we had bought bus tickets the prior day and been told that that was where the bus would be leaving from.  As we climb out of the cab, I pull out the tickets, date - check, departure time - with half an hour to spare, bus terminal - Terminal de Autobuses, Esmerelda.  Um, we´re at the Mercado Central. We asked a girl at a different bus company´s ticket counter and were told that indeed, we were at the wrong place to catch our bus and needed to take a cab to get there.  So we go to find a taxi.  There are two men leaning against the first of 3 yellow sedans.  A third man stood facing them.  I asked about a ride to Esmerelda.  One told me 30 Lucas (sort of like saying "bucks" but here it's 30 THOUSAND pesos (which would be 60 dollars).  I stared blankly back and he winked and erupted in laughter.  We start to walk away, he calls after us, "no, no 2 lucas," but I've already shut down.  We hailed a cab that had a woman sitting in the passenger's seat.  I asked the driver if he would take us to Esmerelda but he said he wasn't going that direction. As we shut the door he says "oye" (listen), we open the door again and he gave us directions to the street where we could catch a cab going in the right direction to take us to Esmerelda.  We hail another cab a block up, as directed.  "Buenos dias" we say as we climb in.  The cab driver didn't recognize the name but the passenger (who must have bathed in cologne and not rinsed) in the front seat did.  We drove along, the cab driver not slowing down for barking dogs, or anything, for that matter.  The car pulled over to let our Mr. Cologne - I called ciao after him and he said hasta luego (see you later) as he slammed the door.  We pulled up to the bus station and a proper bus station it was - high ceilings, long parking spaces for buses, a cafe, ticket counter, etc. 

We buy breakfast, warm chaparritas, similar to empanada but with a flaky dough and filled with cheese, ham and tomato - the tomato has that soft acidic taste it gets from being cooked.  I ordered a coffee, too.  We sat at the bus station and had our breakfast.  Before boarding the bus we paid 300 Chilean pesos (60 US cents) to get a token to use the bathroom. 

Chaparrita

Ham, cheese and tomato chaparrita

 

As the bus backs out of the station, the second driver stood in the aisle, collecting tickets, noting phone numbers (emergency), ID #s (passports, in our case), and names.  I looked out the window at the Pacific Ocean methodically crashing its blue-grey waves on the shore.  This scene isn´t unfamiliar to me - driving south along a Pacific West Coast.  The sky is grey, fog still thick in the air.  It´s only 8:30 am.  There are tents set up on the beach, fishermen layng out the morning´s catch; the birds, gote, cormorrants, seagulls - the fishermen´s shadow, wait for a chance to steal a snack.  We drive along, the cormorants are perched on the tall white street lamps that line the boardwalk.  Every now and again the red head of a vulture appears, lifting itself from under his/her black wing.  There are more clam and mussel shells than there is sand on the beach.   It´s incredible, absolutely beautiful!  We pass the camelid pen: guanaco, and llamas hudled together, munching on hay.  They are perfectly groomed, unlike the ones you see out in the wild.  Their colors are magnificent, a soft cream color and another is deep chocolate brown.  On my right is the ocean and to my left the mountaneous desert. 

fishing boats, right outside of Iquique, heading south along the Pacific Coast

Pacific Ocean, view from bus, south of Iquique, Chile

more pretty ocean

A couple hours into the drive we stop at customs, we are heading south, deeper into Chile and I guess this is standard procedure.  We lined up with our luggage on a table and a custom´s officer, when she gets to me asks that I open my pack.  I unzip my beat up backpack and she lifts the top flap to reveal a plastic ziploc bag of electronics over my clothes.  "Gracias, mi amor," as she squeezes my arm.  That was quick, I think to myself.  We are instructed to wait until the bus moves forward - the bus pulls up 10 meters, we board and are on our way.  Seemingly useless but whatever. 

We drop people off at Tocapilla, a coastal town in northern Chile and a woman climbs on the bus selling sandwiches.  "Palta, pollo, mayonesa" (avocado, chicken, mayonaise) she calls, "bebidas" (drinks).  The sandwiches are individually wrapped in celofan wrap and stacked neatly in a tupperware.  She sells them for 1000 Chilean pesos (2 US dollars).  A man in a butcher's coat gets on the bus.  He had wavy salt and pepper hair that was combed back nicely, like Elvis' but without the hair grease.  He had a huge underbite and his tongue peeked through a gap in his two front teeth.  He was carrying a weathered styrofoam box and was calling "empanadas al horno. pollo, carne, queso, pollo y queso" (oven fired empanadas. chicken, meat, cheese, chicken and cheese).  Also going for 1000 Chilean pesos.  He stayed on the bus when the bus finally took off and got off several blocks later at his bakery, this must be a routine.  

 

Los Andes

Eventually we make it to San Pedro de Atacama, a small town of about 5000 people.  It's red adobe and just gorgeous.  It's located in the Antafogasta region of Chile and is part of the Atacama desert.  San Pedro is known for desert sports like sand boarding and is a common jumping off point to other places around the desert like the Geysers de Tatio, Valle de la Luna, and Lagunas Altiplanicas.  More to come about San Pedro...

cute town of San Pedro de Atacama

adobe wall, with dried sticks and twigs built into the wall to keep people out of one's yard

coppersmith's shop, built around a tree :)

hello mountain, San Pedro de Atacama, Chile

sunset in San Pedro de Atacama, Chile

men having a beer at a restaurant in San Pedro de Atacama, Chile

Morning Adventure

3:55 am.  The wind is blowing the Chilean flag that flies over Hostal La Ruca.  The bus is meant to pick me up at 4:00.  I do some stretches in the middle of the street.  It's not as cold as I had expected.  Down the street, 2 people - gender indistinguishable from their winter gear, appear, also waiting for a shuttle.  I didn't sleep a wink last night so my body is just going through the motions.  I lean my pack down against the hostal wall.  I pace the street back and forth.  I sea headlights,  my bus!  No.  False alarm.  The wind picks up every now and again and I decide to stand in the corner to shield myself.  The big wooden gate from the hostal opens and I'm startled by a man, "Buenos dias!" I say good morning back, hand over my chest.  He apologizes for startling me and his wife emerges from the dark courtyard.  It's 4:15 now.  They're from Santiago, also going to the geysers.  Headlights.  A charter bus passes witout slowing.  Another letdown. 

Up the street a guy falls off his bike under a street light.  "Esta tomado" (he's smashed) comments my companion.  The bicyclist stumbles to pick up his bike.  My companion narrates "Eso es.  Una pierna. Eso, si. Oy, no.  Se cayo de nuevo.  A ver, una, eso, si, y la otra" (That's it.  One leg. There you go, yup. Oh, no.  He fell again.  Let's ser.  There you go, yup and now the other). While we are watching, extremely entertained, a tour bus pulls up.  We approach but the tour guide only calls the names of the other two people.  She asks me with which company I have booked, Terra Xtreme, I respond and she says they will pick me up shortly.  My companions climb onto the bus and wave farewell.  I put my pack down again.  I pace.  I stop across the street for a better view of oncoming traffic and think "a watch pot never boils."  As I chuckle to myself, the street light goes out.  I laugh out loud and cross the street again to the hostal sie.  The light flickers back on.  4:25.  I do more stretches, sing myself a song, and...headlights! Now it's me.  I get on the bus.  The guide reads my name off a clip board, I climb into the front row seat and start to peel off my many layers.  Beanie, globes, coat, scarf.  We zigzag through the narrow streets of San Pedro de Atacama picking up other groggy eyed tourists, each checking their name with the clip board and sleepily stumbling aboard the bus.  Once we've got a full bus and have made our way to the maid road the guide stands up and introduces himself.  His name is Manuel and he is gorgeous.  He wears wide, white-rim glasses and a ball cap.  His legs are clearly mountin-man-muscle legs and his arms are tan, hairless and sculpted.  His upper lip is shaped like an upside down U, exposing his big buck teeth; he has a blonde goatee although the hair on his head is black.  He tells us the plan for the day in Spanish and then in English.  He invites us to sleep as it will be at least 2 hours to the top of the mountin where we will see Los Geysers de Tatio (Tatio geysers). 

I'm pumped! I even have my bikini on underneath my many layers because there's a hot spring that makes a swimming hole and there's nothing better than being in hot water in the middle of winter.  I curl into a warm ball and pass out against the window which isn't very warm because it leaks cold air but it'll do.  I wake up and out of the windshielf I see white specks and streaks over a black backdrop.  For a minute I don't know where I am.  Ah, snow.  Cool!  Although I don't know because yesterday the tour company almost didn't sell me a ticket on account of the weather conditions.  Its 5:30 now.  We arrive at a landing with a few buildings and several other tour buses.  Manuel explains that is's snowing a lot and we may not make it to the geysers but we'll try.  He asks if there are any questions.  Yours truly needs a bathroom.  The snow outside is pure, soft powder and it's not too cold but the wind is picking up freshly fallen snow and swaying it to and fro.  We board the bus again and go on our way.  Several hundred meters up, the bus stops and the driver, Gabriel, tries to start it again, unsuccessfully.  It's pitch black outside but the ground is snow white.  Manuel gets to up say they're going to try to get us out of the snow, if they can.  He and Gabriel get out and start shoveling the snow around the tires.  The Brazilians next to me are videotaping themselves telling the story in Portugese and although I don't understand everything they're talking about how we're stuck but we have food and water to get us through should we be stranded.  We are there for about 20-30 minutes and finally Gabriel succeeds in not only starting the bus, but having it move forward.  The Brazilian woman next to me starts clapping.  We go up and up and up.  And then the bus stops.  Gabriel tries to start it but no.  And this time we have that awful smell of burnt clutch.  Manuel and Gabriel get out and start shoveling again.  After 15 minutes, Manuel informs us that we will not be making it up to the geysers, we don't have chains (mistake #7) and there is simply too much powder, over ice, to drive.  At this point, half the bus is outside making snowballs and taking photos.  Gabriel turns the bus around and we head down the mountain.  It's dawn now and the sky is changing color by the instand.  We head back down to Machuca (a little lake) to have breakfast.  It's white, everything white.  The little bushes have soft brown patches around them from where the earth was shielded by the bush.  A vicuña darts across the street.  A vicuña is a member of the camelid family, like a llama, however the vicuña is not domesticated, it is wild.

We stop for breakfast.  White bread rolls, cheeses, marmalades, butter.  Next door someone is frying empanadas and sopaipillas and selling them for 1000 Chilean pesos (2 US dollars). 

On our way down the snow patches are becoming less and less.  It's gorgeous, the adobe colored earth peaking out under a bed of pristine white snow.  Gabriel is now laying on the horn.  Hm?  Maybe it's a one way road and he's notifying people coming up the road of our existence?  We pull off onto a dirt road and park.  Gabriel grabs a blue gym bag and takes off; we hear him yelling outside.  Manuel gets up to explain.  Gabriel is Atacameño, a Native American people group of South America.  His sister is one of two inhabitants of the village.  Whenever he does this route he stops to bring her things from town. 

snow out the windshield

Village of Machuca covered in snow

snow covered red earth

pretty birds!!!

village of 2.  That's Gabriel climbing down to meet his sister

the village where Manuel's sister raises llamas and has a small garden

panoramic view of the Andes in the background and the village on the left

 

Barrio Bellavista y Los Dominicos

It's really not that cold but the Chileans are bundled up in all their winter gear, beanies, turtle neck sweaters, scarves, gloves, long parkas, boots.  It's winter, one must wear winter gear.

 

We got off the metro at Baquedano and made our way out to the street level through crowded metro tunnels.  Young girls were standing at the top of the stairs with styrofoam cups asking for change so that they could buy candy at the stand across the way.  There's a park that I recognize from the summer and I must take a photo of the pathway, both sides beautifully lined with trees, their leaves falling and street lights. 

 

Parque Forestral, Santiago de Chile

 

A woman in the backseat of a car stopped at a stoplight rolls down her window and poses, I shift the camera and snap her photo.  "De verdad?" (Seriously?) She shouts, a huge smile on her face. "Claro!, porque no?" (Of course, why not?) I call back. She asks where we're from and after I tell her she inquires as to if it's cold in California.  This is a very common question, you see the international synonym for California is Bay Watch. 

 

       

My Chilean friend posing for a picture

We cross the river, there's lots of cool (and politically loaded) graffiti on the sides of the river.  There are people with blankets on the ground selling things, socks, angry bird beanies, phone adaptors, you name it.  At the end of the bridge there is a couple making copper chains and selling sandwiches.  This is very common I have found in Chile, people walk around with tupperwares selling "soy hamburgers" or sandwiches.  We stop and watch them at work and introduce ourselves, they are Lauren and Leo a sweet couple who let me take their pictures.

 



Graffiti on the side of the river, Santiago de Chile



close up of graffiti





Sopaipillas, fried dough sold on the street, served with ketchup, and various salsas. 





copper chain being made and sold on the streets of Santiago





Lauren and Leo, making copper chains





We were looking to get to Cerro San Cristobal, a hill that prides views of the whole city and is home to a huge statue of the Virgen Mary. Walking up the street, we are stopped by tour companies, "HALLO!" We nod and thank them for the 657th time and continue on our way.  We reach a park that has an information booth and a castle with "FUNICULAR" written on it.  Bingo.  The funicular is a 5 car train that goes up about 250 meters to the top of the hill; it works on a pully, the train going down pulls the one coming up, and there's a section in the middle where the tracks split off for them to pass one another.  Brilliant! It was so cool! The funicular stops at the middle to drop passengers off at the Zoológico Nacional (National Zoo) and continues on its way.  The view from the top is breathtaking, there are snow-covered mountains to our right and the view of the city is spectacular.  

cute little gargoyle  things holding up a pillar at the funicular station in the Parque Municipal de Santiago

Awesome funicular track.  This is the section where the two cars, the one ascending and the one descending pass one another

squishy and his squishy friend (#Mags)

proud Chilean man :)

statue of the Virgin Mary at Cerro San Cristobol

cute couple at Cerro San Cristobol

candelabra at the base of the Virgen Mary Statue

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notes, photos, relics of thanks to the Virgen Mary that people leave at the statue after their prayers have been answered.  It seems that many people come here to pray to the Virgen Mary when they are having difficulty conceiving

I wind my way around the top of the hill and enter the small church.  It's empty except for a man who is cleaning the baptismal font near the altar.  He is using a small plastic cup and emptying the water into a larger bucket, one cupfull at a time.  I quietly make my way to the front of the church.  Upon closer look I notice that the man is cross-eyed; he wears jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt.  He works diligently and I try to make my observation of him discrete.  I kneel in the front pew to say a prayer and then go to light a candle, except there are no candles.  I ask the man where I can buy candles and he says at the gift shop but wait right there, I will bring you some.  He puts his tools down gently, unlocks a door and disappears behind the altar.  He returns a few minutes later with a bag of candles and a box of matches.  I thank him and light my candle; afterwards he tells me to leave hte candles and matches on the candelabra for the next person. 

Holy water in a big clam shell

Church at Cerro San Cristobol

The candle I lit for you

Super cool, palm tree in the foreground and snow-capped mountains in the background! 

pretty flowers

Me on the funicular ride back down to town

View from halfway up the hill

After getting down to the bottom of the hill, we wander the streets a bit.  There's a man selling gorgeous copper jewelry and we stop to admire his work and of course chat with him.  The most common gifts we see here are jewelry made of copper often with blue lapis stone.  Chile is the number 1 producer of copper in the world. Silver is also very common and so is a metal they refer to as "alpacca."  Alpacca, also known as "nickel silver," is a copper alloy with nickel and zinc.  The precious and semi-precious stones are also very common.  Anyway, the man was very friendly and pulled out a binder with photos of himself with various famous people and models.  He explained to us that his expertise is metal clothing.  Well, clothing is a stretch, I should say metal wear - bikinis and lingerie made in the style of chainmail.  He said he is one of two people in Chile that does this type of work and that his prices are cheaper because he doesn't have any overhead costs, he sells off the street.   Before we left I asked if he could recommend a place for us to have lunch and he pointed us to La Venezia, the oldest restaurant in this neighborhood, he boasted.  Chile is like the U.S. in that as a nation, it is very young.  Obviously there have been people living in the land that is now the nation of Chile (i.e. the Mapucha or Altacamena) but as the country we know it, it is new.  So this restaurant is from 1930.  Hehe. 

La Venezia is a mom and pop kind of place.  You walk in and seat yourself, the tablecloths are that thin red and white plastic, there's momma sitting behind a cash register and everyone is happily eating.  We sit down and are handed menus and also a food-stained piece of paper with the days specials written on it by hand.  The waiter runs off to attend to other people and comes back with a pen and crosses out some of the daily specials.  We order and the waiter comes back quickly with bread, butter, a tomato salsa (served here with bread, pre-meal) and our drinks.  They do not serve wine by the glass so I ordered a half bottle of wine and figured I would take what I could not finish home.  Our food arrives and we are taken back by the generous portions.  I ordered albacore and it's topped with butter and smoked pepper powder.  Two men walk in and one of them looks over at my plate and says yum, what's that.  I tell him and he asks where I'm from and we start to chat.  Halfway into my meal I offer my new friend, Juan, a glass of wine.  He says no thank you although he really wants some, but he has a meeting at four.  "It's just one glass," I insist and he quickly concedes. He makes a toast to our safe travels and reminds me that one must look in the eyes of their drinking companion when toasting.  You hear this in many cultures, the French say that you have seven years of bad luck in  bed if you don't, I've heard others say that it's simply bad luck to not.  I think it's just polite to look in someone's eyes but I have a further explanation.  I've heard two reasons for why people touch their glasses when they make a toast.  The first is that when you drink, you are invoking 4 of the 5 sense, touch, smell, taste and sight but sound is missing, so when you hit glasses, you are now making the act of drinking involve all five senses.  The other explanation I have heard is that back in the day, kings would often poison their enemy's drink over a meal by slipping the (poisonous) contents of their ring into their dining companion's (read: enemy's) drink.  The "guest"  of the king would then clink his glass to the king's and make sure some of his drink spilled into the king's; if the king drank it the guest was safe.  When you look into someone's eyes you are holding them accountable on a nonverbal level.  I have gone off on a tangent, so please excuse me. 

La Venezia en barrio Bellavista, Santiago de Chile (La Venezia restaurant in Bellavista neighborhood/district, Santiago, Chile)

Albacore

nifty way to pour lemon juice, slits in a cork (Papa B will love this!)

 

Sunday in Santiago



We made it to Santiago after much delay, ahem, American Airline sucks, ahem. We enjoyed a good night's rest and played tourist all Sunday. 

 

First stop, Catedral Metropolitana in Plaza de Armas, the Cathedral in the main square in Santiago.  As we ascend the steps out of the metro, we see the Carabinero de Chile, the Chilean gendarmie (uniformed national police force), dressed in their olive green uniforms and funny looking hats.  Although it's the middle of winter, there are people sitting on benches in the main square, lolling about.  Regal equestrian police stand, as if posing for a painting.  It's charming. 

 

Catedral Metropolitana en la Plaza de Armas, Santiago de Chile

 

We make our way to the entrance of the cathedral, weaving through children, stray dogs, families, ladies selling rosaries and through the 10+ foot wooden front doors.  As in any Catholic church, the entryway is flanked with Holy Water fonts.  Old ladies, purses clenched under their arms are elbowing their way to dip their fingers in the Holy Water and cross themselves; this is done with purpose, they are on a mission.  It's beautiful.  The cathedral is dimly lit which adds to its enchantment, the hymns are in Spanish (well, the whole mass is in Spanish, we're in Chile) and it's just lovely.  On our way out, I piss off a rosary vendor.  I had intended to buy a rosary (or three) from her but when she told me the (clearly plastic) rosary was real pearl and I questioned her, she got upset.  Sorry.

 

Virgen con niño
artist: anonymous
medium: chalk on sidewalk 
Plaza de Armas, Santiago de Chile

 

We walked across the Plaza to the Museo Historico Nacional (National History Museum).  Turns out Sunday is free day, even better!  The museum is small and we go from room to room, admiring the paintings and trinkets salvaged from days of old.  A young girl hears my companion speaking English and asks her where she is from.  Sheresponds, "California."  The girl says, "wow, that's so cool!"  In a different exhibit, I hear the girl telling her brother, in Spanish this time, "..and I asked her where she was from and she said California!" I couldn't help but smile and my eavesdropping was discovered.  She was a typical teenager, she wore skin-tight jeans and athough it is the middle of winter an inch her midriff is showing.  Her eyelashes are mascara'd like perfect little spider legs and she has the ambitious aire of youth.  She points at me,  "are you from California, too?"  "Yes," I respond and we have a nice conversation, she speaks lovely English and I encourage her to study abroad in California. Turns out her dream is to be an English teacher.

 

Courtyard of the Museo Historico Nacional - Plaza de Armas, Santiago de Chile

 

We take Catedral St. all the way down, walking a little under 3 km to the Museo de la Memoria y los Derechos Humanos (Museum of  Memory and Human Rights).  On our way, we walk through a run-down part of town - graffiti all over the walls and garbage littering the streets.  We pass Chinese restaurants and "urban gardens;" the smell of pollo asado drifting from kitchen windows.  Oh metropolitana.  The museum is sad and serves as a memorial to those who suffered during the military dictatorship of Pinochet from 1973-1990.  There is a great emphasis on human rights, in fact, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights is written on the entry way to the museum.  In addition to what the Museum symbolizes, the architecture is super modern and striking.  (Side note, I had dinner with one of the architects of the museum.  She was on our flight from Dallas to Santiago; she had been standing in line behind us waiting to receive hotel accomodations from American Airlines when our flight was 12 hours delayed.  She and another Chilean woman did not speak English and asked that I translate what the gate agent was saying.  We ended up taking a shuttle to the hotel together, having dinner and sharing a cab to the airport the following morning.  She recommended we visit the museum.)

 

Universal Declaration of Human Rights on the facade of the Museo de la Memoria y los Derechos Humanos

 

Across the street is a park, but I am stopped by the smell of peanuts boiling in sugar.  I buy a packet of warm, sugar-coated mani (peanuts) and trot along, happily on my way.  In the park, there are children riding bikes, a llama dressed in hat and poncho, people selling candied apples, pickles and olives in plastic bags, popcorn, lollipops.  There are children feeding the ducks and fathers playing soccer with their kids.  A row of vendors has set up shop selling natural products: essential oils, knitted beanies, mate gourds and straws, loose tobacco.  I buy some chocolate truffles: mint, orange, coffee and an alfajore (a sweet typical of Latin America, it's 2 cookies filled with dulce de leche (liquidy caramel) and dipped in choclate; alfajores come from Spain where they came from the Arab world but that is a story all on its own, to be left for another blog post), I tuck them in my bag for after dinner. 

 

The entry to the Museo Nacional de Historia Natural (Chilean Natural History Museum) is from the park.  We enter and are pleased to discover that Sunday is free entry day here, too!  It's a small museum, with great exhibits of all the different terrains in Chile, from the high plains in the north, to the Austral zone, down to the Antarctic.  There are all sorts of cool embalmed animals on display and very informative exhibits. 

 

 

caramelied peanuts!



My friend making sugar-coated mani; the smell is exquisite!

At this point, it's getting cold and we've been out touristing for hours. We find our way to the metro station, and back to our hotel. The metro in Santiago is quite easily navigable, and clean!


Iris...in the middle of winter...made me think of Yelena :)

By the time we get back to the hotel, my feet are happily swollen from walking all day; we turn in early for the night - we have a long work week ahead of us.