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Buenos Aires
We are sitting in the Houston Airport, soaking up an 11 hour layover and I am finally recovered enough to the story of our last 10 days in South America.
Having grown up in a small town devoid of any cultural phenomena that was not connected to irish catholism, I have always liked visiting cities. I had not anticipated how entirely exhausting the energy of “the Paris of South America” would be. Buenos Aires is 12 to 15 million, depending on how much of the outskirts you include. 3 times the size of Santiago, which by comparison I felt at home in right away. In BA, I was finally just getting the lay of the land and finding my favorite haunts and feeling like I was getting beyond the tourist attractions the last couple of days. But going back to day one, here is my list of top ten street sightings:
1) Movie/Commercial film crews. We saw the first one in our cab from the bus station (Oh yeah, I almost forgot about the bus ride…13 hours, over-night. Giant, fully reclining leather seats, 2 movies, blankets, pillows, 2 course dinner, including wine and champaign, plus breakfast) Back to the film crews, according to our friend who works in advertising, it’s quite cheap to hire film crews in BA, and the city has so may different types of architecture and neighborhoods, that one can pretty much find any kind of cityscape. Anyway, we saw a few different crews and one set of models being filmed.
2) Dog poo. EVERYWHERE. J and I each landed in separate piles within our first 10 steps in the city. There are dogwalkers that take 9 (no kidding, 9) dogs at a time. It’s considered lucky in BA to step in it, but I think they just made that up so they don’t have to stop and scoop every time one of 9 gets the urge.
3) Sculptural hair. I’m really bummed I wasn’t able to get photos of these because they were something to behold. Guys with gel sweeping their hair into sculptures resembling the famous Japanese painting the “Great Wave” were a common siting in retail venues and well-to-do areas of the city. We happened to be in a store at closing time and were lucky enough to witness one of these guys in his post-work ritual: 7 (S-E-V-E-N) squirts of cologne. Apparently the gel and the cologne combine to create some sort of flammable aphrodisiac. Fortunately, I have a special Norwegian stiffness to counteract just such weaponry.
4) Subte. (Subway) Wow. Really. I’ve been to NY, and I’ve been to Hong Kong. And truly, I can’t believe that guy just squeezed in here. What time is rush hour? EVERY TIME, except for Sunday, when the subway is so empty we thought it was closed. I judged how long we had left to go by how many sweat droplets had slid off Jason’s cheek. Usually around the 4th he really got agitated, but it was too crowded to move his hand up to his face to wipe off, and we never got out before the 7th drip.
5) Unmarked intersections. Except for the biggest streets (such as Avinida 9 de Julio, the 16-laner) all the streets in BA are one way, with no stop signs. So think of NE 15th in Portland for example. Imagine it is one way, but none of the side streets have stop signs. So, they just slow to about 20 and push through. The traffic on 15th would then slow until they felt brave enough to edge past the intersection and the flow continues trading off like this until crazy honking from one direction demands a longer turn.
6) Helmets are recommended––to be worn on your arm apparently. And if you have a bicycle but your friend has a motorcycle, you just hold on to his shoulder and keep your feet off the pedals.
7) Sidewalks. A 20 gallon manual cement mixer, a 5 gallon bucket, and one man makes a sidewalk. A man with a hammer breaks up the sidewalk where repairs are needed.
Explosives. One day we saw (well, we heard and then saw, and then heard again for many blocks) an un-supervised 5-year-old lighting fireworks and throwing them into the busy street.
9) Spontaneous street concerts. That take place at 1 in the morning and draw a quick 1,000 people from age 6 to 76, clapping and dancing.
10) Quiet cafes and bars each with their own beautiful and unique appreciation for atmosphere and personality, but seemingly little understanding of basic business principles. There were always 3 times as many staff as necessary standing around, but maybe we were just there at the wrong time. We really never went to bed before 2am (which seemed much earlier because of A, the long summer days, and B, the number of people out in the streets) but still I think we were too early for the real crowds. Once we were walking home from dinner around 2:30 and there was still a line out the door of a couple restaurants.
Workin’
So, I actually did do a little work today, from the Santiago office. If I had a proper chair, I could really get used to this place. Got a great view, sunshine, birds chirpin’ a slight breeze blowin’ through, Eddie Vedder on the itunes…
Pucon, Villarrica, and Hosteria de la Colina
Holly just posted a bunch of photos, so I thought I should post the story behind this weekend. Hope you enjoy:
This weekend we went on our most ambitious excursion yet, a 10-hour bus ride to beautiful Villarrica. Villarrica is situated on a lake right between Pucon and Coñaripe. By far the most striking thing in the area is the massive volcano Volcon Villarrica, with it’s snow-topped peak looking majestic in the background of whatever you’re doing. It’s also among the most active volcanoes in Chile, going off every 7 years.
But first, the bus ride. We took an overnight bus, leaving Santiago at 9:40pm, and arriving in Villarrica at 8am. We had the “semi-cama” seats, which are actually far nicer than an average airline seat, reclining back very far, and a soft comfortable leather keeping you cozy and snug. There were ample blankets and pillows, allowing us to actually sleep fairly decently. It was definitely the nicest bus ride I’ve ever taken, and for the 10-hour ride, it cost only $18 per person. This would be like traveling from PDX to San Francisco for $20, complete with “What Happens in Vegas” starring Ashton Cucher playing as our bus movie.
Once arriving, we took a short cab ride to Hosteria de la Colina. Holly had found this place, and the website looked very promising. As we drove up, I was a little unsure of where we’d end up, but a couple of gravel roads and sharp turns dropped us off at an amazing little place, half hotel, half bed and breakfast. It’s run by a retired couple who used to teach elementary school, one from Oregon, and one from Montana. They were awesome, and we had a great time just relaxing in their amazing Hosteria. I also solved both of Glen’s difficult puzzles, which I’m pretty sure has earned me a permanent place in his heart.
Our first day, upon the suggestion of Glen (from Montana), we went to Termas Geometricas, an amazing hot springs about an hour and a half from Villarrica. We had to take an hour long OTHER bus ride to Coñaripe, then a shuttle from there to the hot springs. Just the 30 minute shuttle cost us as much as our bus ride, and all in, the shuttle, and entrance to the hot springs cost us about $36 a piece, however, once we got there, we knew we had made the right decision. The place was absolutely beautiful.
We stayed there a while, soaking, taking pictures, and soaking some more. Steve and I would constantly jump into a waterfall, which was the coldest snow run-off I’ve ever encountered, and then jump right back into a 105+ degree natural hot spring. It was a lot of fun, and I think I got a pretty good workout just flexing my muscles from the cold, and raising my heart rate from the extreme pain my body suffered going from one extreme to the other. We did it about 7 times each.
That night we went home and just crashed after a very good dinner at a local pizzaria.
On Sunday, we got up late and headed to Pucon. This is by far the coolest town I’ve been to in Chile. It feels like a cross between Hood River and Moab, Utah, but is situated between two killer lakes. It was such a cool town, with outdoor activities everywhere, and the chance to go rafting, kayaking, climbing, summit the volcano, hiking, whatever. We hired a cab driver for 4 hours and had him take us to two waterfalls in the area. During our hike, we actually saw a live tarantula on the trail. I’m fascinated with big bugs, and thought it was awesome. Steve squirmed like a little girl, so I spent the rest of the hike looking for another one to try and pull something on him with, but never found a second.
On the way back we stopped at a random little farm where they sold crafts out of a shed near the gravel road; we bought some cool little gifts for literally the change in our pockets. I got a hand-knitted stocking cap that I’m pretty sure was from the wool of their very own sheep.
After that, we went back and walked around Pucon, just enjoying it’s cool small shops selling random artisan crafts and trying to choose our dinner spot. We ended up at a grill where we got an amount of meat that bordered on ungodly. I swear I’ve never seen that much dead animal on one table in my entire life, and after we left, I suffered a meat hangover for about 36 hours. But it was fantastic and wonderful and special all at the same time. But I have to be honest, I’ve been wanting vegetables the past few days, and I think my body is in meat revolt.
We got back to Hosteria de la Colina about 2 hours before our bus left back for Santiago. We hung out with Glen and Bev a bit more, then said goodbye, departing for our second 10-hour bus ride in 48 hours.
I wish I could say our trip back was as nice, but the air conditioner wasn’t working and we ran out of water, and it was very uncomfortable, and much more crowded and the bus was much older and it was 10 hours of suck. They didn’t even have a movie on this bus ride. But, we arrived in Santiago just the same, and got ready for the Monday morning it was. Steve and Sarilyn both had to work, but Holly and I had the chance to take a nap and get ready for our work later in the afternoon.
All in all, it was a fantastic weekend, and I loved Pucon, and the awesome Volcano in the background. We need to move there, and I think we’re going to try and buy the hotel from Glen and Bev sometime in the next week or so. Enjoy the photos (they’re in the previous post).
McCain and Mullets
Before we left for Chile on our ten week trip, I told a few people that if Obama didn’t win, and McCain was elected, we weren’t coming home. It may not have been 100% true, but I thought it was kind of funny and there was part of me that would start looking into Canada as an option should Obama not get the White House. However, the day before the election took place, as I walked around nervously, I realized that I really needed a hair cut.
Now, you have to understand that the Chilean Mullet is alive and well here in Santiago. It’s not quite the same as the American Mullet, which clearly has many incarnations. I would have to say that the Chilean Mullet is somewhat similar to the Baseball Mullet of the early 80s, it starts high on the back of the head, and is only slightly longer than the sides and top of the rest of the head. It’s a calmer, subtler mullet, but a mullet just the same.
With the haircut I had at the time, I was pretty sure there was no way I was walking out of that hair salon with anything but the Chilean Mullet, and decided going into it that I was fine with that. When you consider the fact that I can’t speak Spanish, and the guy cutting my hair couldn’t speak English, coupled with the fact that I hate telling people to alter the haircut they’re giving me if I see it going the wrong way, I left the salon with the only result possible, a Chilean Mullet.
Now, a big part of the reason I didn’t mind was that I figured this was my McCain Insurance Plan. That if McCain won the election, I would already be on my way to fitting into the Chilean lifestyle for the long term, haircut and all. As it turned out, my efforts were in vain, and Obama won the election. Now, I can return to the United States on December 12 as planned, and receive the laughs and jokes of my friends due to my ridiculous haircut. However, when I weigh in the options, I’ll take a bad haircut and being made fun of to four years avoiding the United States, and I’ll take Obama and my chant of Hope, even if it means I’m a goofy looking bastard. Call me a patriot if you must, but I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
Congratulations
So, it’s been pretty insightful to be in another country talking to people from all over the world during our election.
This morning an older French woman came running up to Jason and I, “Congratulations!” she doted.
Now, don’t get me wrong, we are aware of what day it was, and Steve and Sarilyn have satellite TV so we watched the results come in. But we were a little taken aback, “I’m sorry, for what?”
“Your new president.”
“Oh…yeah, thanks, yes, yeah of course.”
It’s not a surprise that people from Chile, France, England, and Germany are excited about Obama. I just didn’t expect it to come out quite like that.
In any case, it is a historic day, and those from other countries are very proud of “us”.
soft and sweet
So, we’re in our second month here. We’ve done some intense analysis of our routines and we have made an important discovery:
We’ve been washing our clothes with fabric softener instead of detergent.
Like I said, we usually have an IDEA of what’s going on.
Holly
Nuggets from Santiago
Holly wrote a post! here it is – enjoy!
1) We live on the 25th floor of our building. I’ve only ridden the elevator one time in 3 weeks where the other people did not say “hola” upon entering and “ciao” upon leaving. Friendly folk down here.
2) They do not eat Mexican food here. Chileans don’t like spicy foods at all. It is all about the SALT. I saw a woman at a bus stop eating an apple like we would eat an avocado or a tomato–salt, then bite; salt then bite.
3) Speaking of avocados…they call them palta down here and they are ubiquitous. They really like to smash up at least 2 for each hot dog. That’s what they call an Italian style hot dog–a crapload of smashed avocados, some tomatoes, and a whole bunch of everyone’s favorite…mayonaise.
4) There are no tortilla chips for these delicious avocados. Ask a Chilean about tortilla chips and they go, “yeah, Doritoes, yo conoczo doritoes.”
5) It’s all about the power suit. There are more woman than men in Chile: 60/40, and all the working women wear black, TIGHT power suits. Pinstripes are very in, and monster clevage is essential. We live in a business district and between 2 and 3 (lunchtime for them) I love watching all the fancy suits eat their afternoon ice cream bar.
6) We splurged yesterday and spent $6 for a nice bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.
7) Back to clothes for a minute…outside of the business atire (which, I didn’t mention that the men all wear really nice, always black, suits with pinstripes and super wide ties in bright colors–I think we should take the hint) I’m suprised at how similar the clothing is here to Portland, really. We always see t-shirts with english sayings on them, and as long as I don’t open my mouth, I can blend in pretty well here. Different story for my blonde amiga–but the cat calls have been harmless and seem to me more polite than in the states.
They call rush hour taco hora, which of course, we love, as long as we’re not trying to ride the subway.