We´re Not in La Paz Anymore ToTo!
Santiago is a full-service urban mecca. Twenty-Six hours of contemplating the Atacama, the world´s most arid desert, make Santiago a well-populated hustle n´bustle relief. Santiago is about the furthest thing from La Paz except for the Spanish-Language part. Eli and I quickly observed that other than that, the elements that distinguish La Paz (substantial Aymaran population, prevelance of traditional dress, approval (or perhaps encouragement?) of public intoxication, inexistance of planar geography) seemed to have disintegrated over the many miles of sand that seperate the two places. At dinner last night instead of hearing customary bitter rants about from Bolivians about their land-locked reality, our Chilean waiter indulged in teasing our temporary home for the lack of ocean. The abundance of pre-supplied toilet paper in the bathrooms and soap to complement also make it impossible to mistake that Eli and I are a long way from home. But it is very nice here.
I could definitely see myself living happily and comfortably in this city. I don´t know if at this point in my life I would choose to do so though. There is a part of me that feels strongly I while healthy and able I should travel solely to places that would become inacessible, goodness forbid, I ever become invalid. So that rules out Santiago for now, but not sailing with Deborah and Rolf. By now I am ecstatic about this upcoming opportunity. The warm climate and open ocean (no Bolivia Lake Titicaca just can´t cut it) beckon my lungs and tempt my bare feet. Sunsets not intruded by skyscrapers or mountains alike, exploration of new (to me) configurations of constellations, completely unfamiliar wildlife, all these potential experiences make Puerto Montt a curious, completely invigorating life possibility. The challenges that I am sure will be present are equally welcome. If I do spend a couple days barfing over the railing I may not feel that way for the moment but any opportunity to hone mind-spirit strength is valuable to me.
True to my past experiences in across the board in Latin America (Peru, Bolivia, Colombia, Cuba, Mexico, Belize, Chile), making friends in Santiago has been the easiest part. After an astounding vegetarian feast last night (I could just feel the nutrients of raw vegetable power coursing through my veins after subsiting on bread and rice for three days. Popeye really knew what he was doing) Eli and I cruised around and back to Barrio Brasil on foot to share conversation and wine. Seated outdoor on a strip of restaurant/bars made for a great time people-watching. Eli and I discussed style here and decided it is not atrocious but is quite bland, Eli placed it somewhere in the early-mid 90s Gap ads. I concur.
The people though are much more expreessive then their taupe slacks. Walking down a street I coaxed Eli into letting me give him a piggy back ride. We only made it about 30 feet this way but the more important end result was meeting a group of 4 young Chileans. We all laughed at teh situation and they pulled ahead but no matter, turned out we were headed to the same bar. When Eli and I entered belatedly (we walk slow and deliberately, relishing in the joy of flat streets and plentiful oxygen) our friends had just sit down and insisted we sit with them. Turned out one of the friends, a 20-some man, is in fact nicknamed YoYo (= Jojo in Spanish.). We spent the next couple of hours as any group of buddies out would. For a while the conversation turned to the terror endured under Pinochet and the continuing effect of this trauma on the national consciousness. It was a topic I strongly wanted to investigate but is sensitive so determined it best not to broach it. I was therefore thankful when it came up without my coaxing. Conversation remained for a while on Chilean politics, discussion about the recently elected Left-Middle of the road socialist female was intriguing. Soon after though the evening went back to a more jocular tone, Eli and I were further trained in proper Salsa dancing techniques.
Must cut this short for now. Eli reminded me it is time to go buy our bus tickets to Puerto Montt. Then off to the Pre-Colombian museam. Apparently the ¨museum to go to¨if you only have time for one. Later tonight we are off to meet up with our new Chilean comrades so they can show us their favorite places to haunt. I would be fine of course if that meant the kids playpark. That was the final destination last night and I gotta say, the slides here must be waxed regularly because we all cruised down at super-jet speed. Although looking back, Eli and the otehr guys may have been a little too big. Three cheers for a gnome-esque stature!
con mucho amor,
YoYo
Santiago is a full-service urban mecca. Twenty-Six hours of contemplating the Atacama, the world´s most arid desert, make Santiago a well-populated hustle n´bustle relief. Santiago is about the furthest thing from La Paz except for the Spanish-Language part. Eli and I quickly observed that other than that, the elements that distinguish La Paz (substantial Aymaran population, prevelance of traditional dress, approval (or perhaps encouragement?) of public intoxication, inexistance of planar geography) seemed to have disintegrated over the many miles of sand that seperate the two places. At dinner last night instead of hearing customary bitter rants about from Bolivians about their land-locked reality, our Chilean waiter indulged in teasing our temporary home for the lack of ocean. The abundance of pre-supplied toilet paper in the bathrooms and soap to complement also make it impossible to mistake that Eli and I are a long way from home. But it is very nice here.
I could definitely see myself living happily and comfortably in this city. I don´t know if at this point in my life I would choose to do so though. There is a part of me that feels strongly I while healthy and able I should travel solely to places that would become inacessible, goodness forbid, I ever become invalid. So that rules out Santiago for now, but not sailing with Deborah and Rolf. By now I am ecstatic about this upcoming opportunity. The warm climate and open ocean (no Bolivia Lake Titicaca just can´t cut it) beckon my lungs and tempt my bare feet. Sunsets not intruded by skyscrapers or mountains alike, exploration of new (to me) configurations of constellations, completely unfamiliar wildlife, all these potential experiences make Puerto Montt a curious, completely invigorating life possibility. The challenges that I am sure will be present are equally welcome. If I do spend a couple days barfing over the railing I may not feel that way for the moment but any opportunity to hone mind-spirit strength is valuable to me.
True to my past experiences in across the board in Latin America (Peru, Bolivia, Colombia, Cuba, Mexico, Belize, Chile), making friends in Santiago has been the easiest part. After an astounding vegetarian feast last night (I could just feel the nutrients of raw vegetable power coursing through my veins after subsiting on bread and rice for three days. Popeye really knew what he was doing) Eli and I cruised around and back to Barrio Brasil on foot to share conversation and wine. Seated outdoor on a strip of restaurant/bars made for a great time people-watching. Eli and I discussed style here and decided it is not atrocious but is quite bland, Eli placed it somewhere in the early-mid 90s Gap ads. I concur.
The people though are much more expreessive then their taupe slacks. Walking down a street I coaxed Eli into letting me give him a piggy back ride. We only made it about 30 feet this way but the more important end result was meeting a group of 4 young Chileans. We all laughed at teh situation and they pulled ahead but no matter, turned out we were headed to the same bar. When Eli and I entered belatedly (we walk slow and deliberately, relishing in the joy of flat streets and plentiful oxygen) our friends had just sit down and insisted we sit with them. Turned out one of the friends, a 20-some man, is in fact nicknamed YoYo (= Jojo in Spanish.). We spent the next couple of hours as any group of buddies out would. For a while the conversation turned to the terror endured under Pinochet and the continuing effect of this trauma on the national consciousness. It was a topic I strongly wanted to investigate but is sensitive so determined it best not to broach it. I was therefore thankful when it came up without my coaxing. Conversation remained for a while on Chilean politics, discussion about the recently elected Left-Middle of the road socialist female was intriguing. Soon after though the evening went back to a more jocular tone, Eli and I were further trained in proper Salsa dancing techniques.
Must cut this short for now. Eli reminded me it is time to go buy our bus tickets to Puerto Montt. Then off to the Pre-Colombian museam. Apparently the ¨museum to go to¨if you only have time for one. Later tonight we are off to meet up with our new Chilean comrades so they can show us their favorite places to haunt. I would be fine of course if that meant the kids playpark. That was the final destination last night and I gotta say, the slides here must be waxed regularly because we all cruised down at super-jet speed. Although looking back, Eli and the otehr guys may have been a little too big. Three cheers for a gnome-esque stature!
con mucho amor,
YoYo
posted by Jojo at 8:53 AM
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