People Watching and Sight Seeing

At the end of a very tiring week of training, going out, and generally just getting accustomed to the Chilean way of life, all of the teachers (totalling about 45 from various different programs) received a much deserved 3-day weekend. Originally, I had planned on trying to find a cheap flight to somewhere, ANYwhere, since I wasn't sure when I would have another 3-day weekend to travel. Unfortunately, I wouldn't be able to book my flight until after Friday night's festivities as CIEE had a sort of "Coming Together Before Growing Apart" dinner (my title, not theirs) planned for us - more on that in a moment... In spite of my inability to find a last minute flight to an unknown mountain hideaway near Machu Picchu or some bungalow buried deep in the Amazon rainforest, there are a number of reasons that I don't regret staying here in Santiago... Not the least of which was the awkwardly long, yet surprisingly comforting hug I received from some random bearded man in the street (pictured here).

As for Friday, we were dismissed from training at around 5:30 and managed to make it back to the hostel by about 6. I had just enough time to squeeze in a quick run with my new Ethiopian friend (to be fair, his parents are Ethiopian. He is actually from Texas. Still, it sounds much cooler to say I ran with an Ethiopian), and be back in time to shower and change for dinner. Feeling rejuvenated from the run and all the cat-calls we received from the schoolgirls dressed in emo-goth-punk attire (or whatever it's called now... I can't keep up with all the young whippersnappers these days), I was congratulated with a shower that was - wait for it - LUKE WARM!!! Huzzah!

At dinner, we had our own private room and a couple of guys with their guitars to provide the ambience. The "couple of guys" quickly expanded to include a number of the CIEE staff, various empty bottles of tinto vino providing evidence of their motivation. A few "really famous Spanish songs," that I had never heard were followed by the Chilean national dance, which I had never seen, and before I knew it, the dinner was over. It was then on to meet up with Marcelo. Only, the number of people I could take was limited. Nervous but undaunted, I tried to walk the awkward tightrope of answering the question "What are you doing tonight?" with just enough ambiguity so as not to make anyone feel left out. In the course of trying to get in a cab with one or two other people who had also met Marcelo, I failed in my death-defying stunt. So, in keeping with the trend, rather than face the boos and jeers of the crowd as I tumbled to the safety net, I simply rolled over, fled from view, and sped out of sight (that last part in the cab, in case my metaphor was getting a little too jumbled).

Having ditched half of the party that was trying to come (not on purpose, but more because I had no idea where I was going, and the cabbie was about as helpful as the Mexican police are corrupt), we made it to Marcelo's with a motley crew of people who had even less of a clue as to what was going on than I did. Fortunately, they all scattered like Koala bears (see Mitch Hedburg) once at the party, and I was able to socialize relatively undisturbed. For a while, I made small talk with a Brazilian model named Ivana (who really wasn't all that attractive, but everything you would expect from a model: really tall, striking features, nothing between the ears), had a couple drinks and then managed to catch a ride home with one of Marcelo's friends at about 4.

Returning to the hostel, I was dismayed to find the only two computers both in use. I patiently waited my turn and then searched for flights for about 45 minutes before giving up and calling it a night just a little after 5am. Having failed in my attempts to travel in what would no doubt be one of the few extended weekends of my time here, I committed myself to doing something worthwhile for the weekend. I woke up at about 9, involuntarily as usual, and laid awake in my bed, trying to distinguish between all the distinct car alarms putting on a concert for me. Once awake and somewhat coherent, I rallied together a few holdovers from the night's festivities, and persuaded them for a day around town. First stop: free hugs.

After a quick bite of Spanish tortillas (oh how I miss Madrid) and jugo de frambuesa, we headed to Plaza de Armas, which is the historic center of the town. Like a special ops battalion, we synched watches, laid out the details of our mission and infiltrated the crowd armed with cameras, pencils, and journals. Unfortunately, we were unsuccessful in our efforts to fit in, as our cameras made us stand out Barbara Streisand's nose. Nevertheless, we managed to evade the squadrons of pigeons making target practice on our heads, got a lot of good people-watching in, and even took a couple of cool pictures along the way.

From the plaza we headed up to the cerro San Cristóbal, home of a HUGE statue of a Virgin Mary that overlooks the entire city of Santiago (think Rio, minus the ocean). We made friends with a Kiwi engineer, who was nice enough to take a few pictures of us without running off with our cameras. A few hours and about a gallon of sweat later, we were back to city level, drinking cortados and Heinekens at a pleasant little cafe in Providencia.

To save some money, we went to the British market with grand plans of buying some fresh veggies and preparing a meal that would make Emeril proud. By the time we got there, though, the veggies were hung up for the night, so we had to settle for the BEST avocado, tomato, and turkey sandwiches... Mostly because we were all so hungry.

After dinner, we took a trip back to freshman year in college when a bunch of other people returned, and we all just sort of hung out till the early hours laughing and telling stories. I declined a second viewing of "The Departed" in the last two weeks, and hit the sack, eager to get my first full night of sleep since I had been here. That plan went the way of the dodo as soon as my roommate returned and started calling grizzly bears.

On the bright side, my being up early meant that we could prepare for our second big day of the weekend. This time, had planned a little excursion out to the rugged and untamed wilderness of the Andes just outside of Santiago. A little online planning and a brief look at our Lonely Planet guidebooks made us confident that we could leave our hostel at about 10am, hike for about 4 hours, and still be back in time for dinner. Once again, our naivete outweighed our good intentions. We found our way to our destination, though it took about an hour longer than we had anticipated. What's more, while the web site seemed to indicate that hiking with a guide was an optional, and costly, alternative to hiking alone, in reality, a guide was required to access the hiking trails at all.

With the girls putting on their best puppy-dog faces, I went into negotiate mode, and before we knew it, we had a key to the trail (yes, the trail actually had a gated entrance that required a key for access), paid the nominal fee for entrance to the park, and were on our way, sans mandatory guide... Yes!

The hike was a bit of a disappointment, but it was still fun to pretend to be explorers conquering a vast and virgin landscape. It was also pretty funny to see the random French girl who finagled her way into our little quartet have enough trouble with the camera to bring about comparisons with the monkey scene at the beginning of "A Space Odyssey." Only rather than squawking and screaming like them, her confusion was expressed more through quiet unintelligible gibberish as she took a picture of just about everything, EXCEPT what she was supposed to focus on.

When we returned to the so called "trail head," we decided that it just wasn't acceptable to travel 3 hours round trip to hike for about an hour and a half. Instead of leaving, we headed to the pool, where we once again talked our way to a discounted entrance. Standard pricing was Ch$5,000 each, and we got all three of us (the French girl decided to stay at the restaurant to nibble on her croissant and reconnect with Rousseau, or whatever it is that French people do when they want to kill time at a remote Chilean camp site alone) in for Ch$6,000. The pool was the coldest water north of Antarctica, but we couldn't just waste all that effort we had just spent bargaining. Still, it wasn't until we saw a 10-month old streaker (naked and loving it!) get dunked all the way under that we finally decided to man-up and take the plunge.

A couple of (very quick) laps across the pool was all we needed before we decided that laying on the grass was probably just as good. Persuaded by a few hundred ants filing between our toes, we decided to hit the road. Talk of "cooking" for dinner quickly devolved into a stop at the local soda shop where one of the girls had been befriended by a couple of the proprietors after she confided in them when her camera was stolen. Somehow, our water sin gas, grew into 2 rounds of Schop (beer on tap) each, and we left the restaurant fat, happy, and exhausted.

A full night's sleep gave me enough motivation to hit the gym this morning, and then I spent most of the day online or wandering around the city in my search for housing. I have still not found a place, but I have a few promising leads, so with any luck, I should be out of the hostel by the end of the week.

Until then, I can be comforted by the fact that I (finally) got my schedule, and I am among the lucky few who has a 3-day weekend EVERY weekend (Saturday-Monday off). Which means, that basically, every weekend can be as fun filled and action packed as this one.