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."