Downgraded

I want to start by apologizing for not writing sooner... Not that anyone noticed.

My excuse is, we moved from our palace in providencia to the armpit of alameda. Right now, my (temporary) roommate is nowhere to be found, he left the hostel without the key - and for some reason, they only have one. Also, just in case you were dying to know more information about the key to my room, it is like an old-fashioned skeleton key that a well-trained monkey could probably fashion out of a paper clip. I am QUITE pleased to know that my computer, cameras, and all other worldly possessions are being so well guarded... But I digress -

which means I can´t shower, can´t shave, don´t have my wallet, and I smell like onions (all of which are the result of being locked out of my room, save for the smelling like onions part). Also, I haven´t eaten since noon (it´s now almost 10pm), and I am supposed to get together with a group of some other teachers (whom I don´t know very well) to create a 15 minute presentation as practice to teach our students. I really hope they like onions.

As for a quick update, over the weekend I went to Vina del Mar, which is a beach town about an hour outside of Santiago. I put on SPF 30 sunscreen and passed out on the beach. Word of the wise, when you are told by mulptiple people about the existence of a hole in the ozone layer, it might not be a great idea to fall asleep on the beach for 4 hours. Needless to say, my goal to disguise my gringocity with a nice even tan failed miserably, as I am pretty sure my neon red burns around my arms, shoulders, eyes and feet (everywhere I didn´t put enough sunscreen), pretty much SCREAM: I´m American, please steal my wallet!

We moved from our nice hotel on Sunday, and joined up with a bunch of the other teachers (and YES, we are in fact the teachers for our classes. I am not a TA, but will be teaching actual college students, alone. They put ME in charge of the education of others??? BIG mistake!) who are from various programs, but are mostly American (there are two brits) at a hostel more towards the center of town. Colorado dominates the scene with a whopping 25% (out of about 40) of the teachers hailing from Denver, Dillon, Boulder and Ft. Collins. Pretty random, I know.

I have already started looking for apartments and have a couple of promising leads with some Chilean students.

Last night I went out with a local named Marcelo, that I somehow got connected to through a friend of Hugo´s during my one-day stay in Los Angeles. I will save any further elaboration of last night for future posts, just to keep you all somewhat interested... And, also to keep 3 people behind me waiting for the computer from gouging my eyes out with their Duoc-issued pencils.

Hasta pronto.

Modifications

Okay, I have to confess, I have been holding back. I have thought long and hard about what I want the composition of this blog to be:
-Do I want it to be a journal for me or for the people reading it?
-Do I want it to be simply informative or a comprehensive chronology of what is going on in Santiago?
-Do I want to tell the whole truth or just part of the truth?

Well, I have thought about it, and I think I am going to go with most of the truth... I think it's a nice compromise.

The point is, from time to time, you might notice much less of a narrative tone that appeals to a specific audience, and more of an esoteric sort of stream of consciousness that more accurately reflects the random thoughts battling in my head.

Let's move on. Here are some modifications on the stories I have already told, as well as an update on some that I have not yet shared:

-Santiago is more beautiful when you can't see all the smog (see sunset above).

-Pisco (a local alcohol vaguely semblant of tequila) is dangerous: on our very first night, one soft spoken, well-mannered participant of our program, with the help of a few pisco sours, decided to graffiti the wall INSIDE our restaurant with his natural effluence... If you know what I mean.

-I am out of shape: All day today I have been trying to conceal how sore I am after running for the first time in about 6 months (I am going to milk the "surgery" excuse as long as I possibly can)

-Black cats aren't bad luck (I hope!): in a span of about 12 hours, I have seen 3 black cats. One newborn kitten which we found in a box (below), one stray, and one ostensibly part of the native Mapuche community. So far, nothing terrible has befallen me in spite of such foreboding omens (well, other than severe soreness).

-Regardless of what Shakira says, hips DO lie: for two days in a row, I have visited a salsa dancing club in el barrio Bella Vista. I have seen a number of young latin women whose hips seem to be saying "Please, come join me. It is easy to move how I move, and I would very much like some company," when, in reality, what they mean is "Not a chance, Gringo!"

That's all for now.

In about 5 hours, I have to wake up to catch a bus to Viña del Mar in an effort to shroud my gringocity (I'll save you the trouble of looking it up... It's not a word) with a nice, seasonal tan (summer only lasts for another month or so).

As Warren Miller would say, "If you don't make it down to Santiago this year, you'll be one year older when you do."

Santiago

I made it! The picture to the right is a view of the Andes (through the haze) from my current hotel room.

After a surprisingly pleasant flight (all the more surprising considering it was conducted by my long-time nemesis - Delta), I finally made it into Santiago. Only slightly tipsy from the duty free rum I used as a sleep aid, I managed to track down our program coordinator and meet up with the rest of our crew.

There are 13 people in total, and they are from all over the US. Most of us are about the same age (22-24; 1 or 2 years out of school). One guy, though, is about 50, a former criminal lawyer, and a fulbright scholar who, in the last 10 years or so, decided that he just can't get enough of Spanish and the accompanying latin culture.

As for the rest, my first impression is that we are going to get along swimmingly. There are a few skiers in the crowd (YES!), one who graduated from Boulder. Lauren, you'll even be happy to know we even have a horned frog. Alas, she was not a Theta.


In spite of my slight pisco and wine hangover, I had a little time before my day actually begins, so I thought I would just let everyone know that I made it safe and sound.

Salud!

Leaving, on a jet plane...

As you can see, I am packed and ready to go; prepared to face all the dangers that life has to throw at me in the next few months... Safety first!

So, today is the day. After much anticipation, my long-awaited departure date is finally here. My quick stop in HOTlanta gave me a few more precious days to spend with some of the baddest-a people this side of the international dateline. Shout out to the BSP (below)!

With a few more items to throw back into bags and hope that they are under the weight limit for international travel, I can already begin to feel my pulse quicken. In a couple of hours, I will be fraternizing with some of the other individuals signed up for the trip at the good ol' Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport, where inefficiency reigns supreme and the unmistakeable potpourri of fried chicken and cigarettes is an everpresent reminder that you are indeed still in the South. A few beers and a handful of valium later, I hope to be snoozing somewhere over Barranquilla.


It is with a heavy heart to match my much heavier bags, I will soon have to say goodbye (at least temporarily) to some of the great people I have encountered so far. Still, with every end comes a new beginning, and I can't wait for the day when we will all see each other again to tell of the many chapters in our lives that we have yet to share.

Hasta pronto...

Prologue

So here it is. The inaugural post of my very own blog.

As I am still a couple days from leaving Denver and almost a week from leaving the US, this post might seem a bit premature. Nevertheless, I wanted to appease the veritable throng of people that will comprise my audience (that is, my mom and sister), by at least generating the home of my new blog, title and all.

Thanks to exhaustive efforts from several individuals, including (but not limited to) Alison Carlman, Cristina Miller, and Matt Teeters, I settled on "A pocos pasos," which means "at a short distance." It may not be as catchy as some titles, but where it lacks in rhyme scheme and double entendres, I think it makes up for with accuracy of purpose, which is of course to stay connected with all of you.

Either way, I hope that you will find my posts to be informative (probably), entertaining (maybe), but if nothing else, intelligible (hopefully). I will try to make at least one post a week and will do my best to include pictures to illustrate my anecdotes. More than likely, I will not send out an email update every time I make a post on my blog. Feel free to visit as often as you like, and take comfort in knowing that I will not be flooding your inboxes with pictures and long narratives for you to simply set aside for another time or forget about entirely.

If you are reading this, then I have been blessed to have been at least part of your life and journey, so it is with great pleasure that I get to include you in mine.

Vaya con dios.

-Kevin

PS: The picture included on this post is a preview of my current level of excitement to be embarking on this opportunity.