Northern Chile

On Sunday I gathered my wits and headed out of Valparaiso to the Northern Chilean desert, the driest in the world. Since there is no direct bus from Valpo to my destination, I spent one night in a random town called Calama, which is apparently notable for its mall and ¨hooker bars,¨as a local told me. The latter I cannot confirm, although the bus dropped me off at the mall and it is nice. In fact, it was torture because I needed a bunch of stuff and could have used an hour or two to shop, but I got there with just enough time to grab some food after a 20+ hour bus ride.

San Pedro de Atacama

The next morning I took a 1.5 hour bus ride to San Pedro de Atacama which is a small (pop. 5000) dusty village that has become a tourist hotspot due to its proximity to several natural wonders.

My Hostel

The Belgian woman who sat next to me on the bus, Mariepierre, lives here now and was full of helpful advice (remember this later). She took me to a rustic and cheap hostel/camping ground called Camping del Sol Naciente. There, I immediately met a great French guy named Bertrand who is camping here and working as a guide. He kindly served as my free guide, telling me all about what I should do and which places to book with.

Here are some pics of the hostel/campsite. It is a cool, laid back place with lost of people hangin' around the fire playing music at night:

And, here´s Bertrand, my trusty guide (he even lent me his alarm clock so I could wake up super-early to see the geysers):

La Valle de la Luna

My first day, I rented a bike and headed about 30km out to La Valle de la Luna (valley of the moon), which features some minor attractions and the opportunity to watch the sun set over a set of sanddunes. Here are the some sunset pics:

Hangin´With Chileans

I wanted to go visit the Tatio Geysers the next day (Wed), but all of the trips were full. So I ended up spending a very relaxing day in town. At around 2pm, I wondered into a restaurant that Mariepierre had recommended and she was there eating with her husband and some friends.

They invited me to join them and I ate lunch with them (sampling some traditional cuisine) and ended up hanging out with a couple of her friends for the rest of the day. One of the guys I met at lunch even hooked me up with about 250 Chilean songs for my new MP3 player. I finished off my night watching the Chilean national team play (and lose to) Mexico in the Copa de Liberdores at a pub. I turned in early because I had to head out to the geysers at 4am the next morning.

This is the afternoon crowd: Mirtha (from Santiago), Christian (from Arica), Nathieu (from France), and me. Below, I'm drinking mate con huesillos, a traditional juice drink.

Tatio Geysers

One of the coolest sites surrounding San Pedro is the Tatio Geysers. Tatio means "tears of grandfather," and in Atacama culture, mountains are grandfathers. The mountain/volcano behind these geysers forms a "face" in profile, and when the snow melts it descends from the "eyes." Here's a lousy picture of the mountain:


The geysers are formed when the lava from the volcano mixes with and boils underground water. The pressure from the resulting steam bursts through the ground, with water following. The geysers spout highest at sunrise when the difference between the air temperature high up and at ground level is greatest. Hence we were out there very early in the morning when it was freezing cold. Here are some geyser pics:



And here's a video of the geysers bubbling:





Nightlife

While signing up for a 4x4 trip to Bolivia, I met a Bolivian guy named Ronald who had just moved here to work for his uncle as a guide. This is Ronald:


We met up at a bar called Adobe later on. It was a bit pricey--Chile is the most expensive country in Latin America and San Pedro is a particularly ¨caro¨tourist spot--but great. As you can see from the pics below, there was a fire in the middle of the uncovered main room of the bar--a perfect touch in the desert where it gets quite cold at night but never rains.



Plus, there's this local driver who shows up at the bars every night in costume and gets everyone dancing:



The bar scene in San Pedro is relatively tame because by law the bars close at 1am., but can still be fun. Here's a pic with the Chileans I hung out with on my last night in town at a bar called Grado Seis:

The City

Overall, I found San Pedro to be a charming little town. It felt like most of the folks that work at the bars and restaurants know each other and that if you stayed for a few months you could know almost everyone as well. If the food and drinks were half the price I would recommend staying for a month. As it is, it´s definitely worth a 4 day visit both to take advantage of the surrounding natural attractions and to hang out in town. Here are some pics of the town:

Valparaiso, Chile

Valparaiso is a small port city 1.5 hours west of Santiago. The entire city is a UNESCO historical site and it´s famous for its mad array of colorful houses arranged atop various ¨cerros¨or hills. To reach these homes and the narrow streets/alleys that surround them, the city provides ¨ascensors,¨romantic lifts from a bygone era. The city down below is nothing special--it´s the hills that bring the tourists and the romance.

I stayed here three days, but don´t have much to show or report because of the ¨incident¨discussed in my last entry--which caused me to be hungover and camera-less (or shopping for replacement items) for much of my time here.

I did manage to explore a bit though and take one of the ascensors up to view the city. Here are some pics. The first one is from inside the ascensor.




I happened to be riding up with a lovely gentleman leading a group of schoolchildren on a historical tour of the city and he invited me and two Canadian students to join the tour. We spent most of the time in a museum where our kindly guide tried valiantly to make Chilean naval history interesting...and succeeded very occasionally.


New camera and MP3 player in hand, I now hop on a bus for twenty hours to get to the northern Chilean desert. I´m excited to put ¨the incident¨behind me and excited to get north where it will be warmer.

Material Disaster Strikes

I´ve had overwhelming good fortune in my life and on Thursday, April 26 I experienced a bit of a correction. I had just arrived in Valparaiso, Chile on a bus from Santiago. I went to the information booth looking for a hostel. The woman there tried to sell me on a particular place, insisting it was the cheapest in town. In Buenos Aires I had grabbed a copy of a hostel directory and saw an ad for a hostel that promised cheaper rates, so I walked to the pay phone bank directly in front of the info booth to call.

I approached the bank of payphones and placed my large backpack and my small handbag on the floor directly in front of me. Intending to use the payphone slightly to my right, I placed the small bag to the right of the backpack. But, at that moment, a woman approached from my right and it seemed that she wanted to use a phone. I shifted to the phone on my left, but didn´t move my bags.

I dialed the hostel, confirmed it was cheaper and got directions--probably a total of 2-3 minutes on the phone. When I looked down to pick up my bags, my small bag was gone. Inside that one, small blue beloved Guatemalan bag was:

a) Cannon Digital Elph SD600 camera with about 400 pictures of my vacation
b) 20G iPod with 3000 songs (and a new pair of $30 headphones)
c) Blackberry Pearl cell phone which served as my alarm clock and sometimes MP3 player (with $40 headphones)
d) Passport, with record of immunizations
e) Mastercard
f) Congressional Federal Credit Union check card
g) about $75 U.S. and Guatemalan currency
h) Spanish-English dictionary
i) flash cards for studying Spanish
j) Autobiography of Mark Twain (I was about halfway through)
k) original Army issue aviator sunglasses
l) my Swiss Army pocket knife keychain
m) my list of local contacts (I should have this on a portable storage drive)
n) my book of ¨Nuevos Amigos¨and a second journal I had bought for recording expenses, thoughts, etc.
o) children´s version of David Copperfield in Spanish (for use with item h above)

There are few worse feelings than that exact moment when it sinks in that your bag is really gone and you´re not getting it back. At first, you want to believe it´s an illusion and that you must have simply misplaced it--perhaps I left it at the info counter when I went to call. But, in the span of only one or two seconds, you realize this is wishful thinking.

At that point I yelled ¨Mi bulsa, mi bulsa¨and the woman at the info desk realized what had happened. A nice young woman named Sandra who was waiting at the bus station for a friend came over and the two of them asked me what happened and then called the police.

I waited about half an hour for a cop to show up. During that time the guy who runs the small newspaper stand next to the phone booths said that he saw the whole thing happen, saw two women walk away with my bag, but didn´t know that it was my bag. I later wondered why he couldn´t have spoken up when I first yelled ¨mi bulsa¨ which might have given me a fighting chance of chasing them down.

Once the cop came, we had to wait another half hour for a van to come and take me to the police station. As we entered the police station, I had my first shot of persective--if I had to see the inside of a Chilean police station, there were a lot worse ways.

It took the police two hours to take a list of what was in my bag and write up a report. It some ways it seemed like this wasn´t a common occurance for them, which I can´t imagine is the case. The primary officer I was dealing with couldn´t have been nicer. He then passed me off to another guy who actually let me sit directly in front of him while he typed up the report for about 20 minutes without even acknowledging my existence. Eventually I spoke up, mostly because I was anxious to call my credit card company to cancel the cards before they could be used. I was not able to do this from the station (apparently they can´t call out if Chile) even though I had a number that was specifically for calling collect outside the U.S. or Canada. My interaction with him was a bit weird, but perhaps he was simply anxious about not really being able to communicate with me very well. Unfortunately, in a pinch, I was not impressed with my Spanish.

By the time I got out of the police station, found an internet cafe with Skype, cancelled my credit card and check card, found a taxi, and got to the hostel, it was about 6pm. The American Embassy in Santiago had been closed, so the ordeal of getting a new passport would have to wait until the next day.

I got to the hostel, put down my bags and proceeded straight to a bar. I decided to deal with the situation like any reasonable and responsible person--deaden the pain by getting unreasonably drunk. I ordered a Johnny Walker on the rocks (which here is at least a double) and a liter of beer and an hour and a half later, I had made friends with the bartender and was well on my way.

The Small Miracle
Around 8 or 9 I went back to the hostel to meet up with two American women I had met when I first stopped in. There, in my absense, a small miracle had transpired--the police had come and brought back my passport, record of immunizations, credit card, and check card. I was thrilled that I was spared the time-consuming ordeal of obtaining a new passport, and immediately locked the recovered goods in my locker.

It seems likely that the folks who took my bag were small time theives and while an American passport probably has considerable value on the black market, they didn´t want the risk or trouble of selling it (I imagine the penalty for getting caught is higher than for electronics as well). Of course, I couldn´t help thinking--I understand they would keep the electronics, but if they were going to toss aside the passport couldn´t they have tossed the other stuff with it that was worthless to them but worthwhile to me--the dictionary, flash cards, even the bag itself which I really like. Oh, well...the passport is more than I had a right to expect.

Perspective
I am about two months into my travels and I let my guard down slightly. I wouldn´t be surpised if this is a common time for folks to get ripped off. My actions didn´t quite venture into the zone of outright stupidity, but certainly veered sufficiently far from the vigilent caution required--especially in a bus terminal where anyone with a backpack has a large target sign painted on our backs. This was a very expensive lesson in caution.

In the end, what was really lost? (I´ll resist the urge to make a comment about my innocence...)

Well, first there was money--all told this little lapse in judgment had cost me about $1,000. Stupidly, I hadn´t bought any travel insurance and stupidly, I had all my most valuable possessions in one place. This was a costly lesson indeed.

But, fortunately, money is not the limiting factor on my trip--time is. So, in many ways it´s the nonpecuniary losses that sting more. First, the 400+ pictures of the first two months of my trip. This could have been much worse. My pics from Guatemala are on a disc I sent home. I´ve been blogging regularly, so most of my favorite pics are up on the web. In fact, I spent a significant amount of time in Santiago blogging (of course, I also meant to put all my pics on CDs while I was there and didn´t...). Still, those pictures are irreplacable and my record of this journey will be incomplete.

Second, the journals. I have most of my new contacts in my gmail file. Probably the worst thing about losing the journals is that I had been meticulously recording every cent I´d taken out of the ATM or spent on credit cards since the beginning of my trip. At the end, I would have known exactly how much this journey cost me. Now, I won´t. Sorry, Dad, you would´ve been proud.

The loss of the iPod is mostly an inconvenience. The songs are on my laptop at home. And, I think I´ve found a way to turn this into lemonade. Because I was using the iPod, I wasn´t really exploring new music. Now I´ve bought a small MP3 player and will buy new CDs in every country. I´ll miss the good ol´ Grateful Dead, but I´ll use this as an opportunity to push myself to explore new sounds.

The flash cards are a big pain. They were my two most important sets--grammar rules and irregular verbs. And, they´ll be a pain to reproduce. But, I´ll have to renew my resolve to read more Spanish and get more practice.

As I was telling folks at the hostel the story, it seemed almost everyone had their own story as well--and all admited various degrees of culpability, of bad judgment. One one hand, the stories made me feel better--I wasn´t the only one; (as one of the American women told me) this happens to the best of us. On the other hand, they made me feel worse. Some of the folks hadn´t seemed to have acted stupidly at all--there´s a limit to what we can do to protect ourselves. These stories made me feel like I can buy everything back only to lose it all again tomorrow.

But, in the end, I wasn´t hurt and nothing bad had happened to anyone I love. I remain one of the luckiest people in the world--with the time and resources to wander throught Latin America for nearly six months, and loving family and friends to embrace when I return.

I managed to find the same exact camera in a department store here in Valpo--after all, the blogging must go on. Ironically, this is the third time I´m buying this camera. A friend left my first one at Rudy´s bar in New Haven on my 30th birthda, after I correctly predicted I would get too drunk to handle it responsibly and placed it in his care.

As for the rest, we shall see. My next country will be Bolivia, which is apparently worlds cheaper than Chile. Maybe they even have some nice bags...

Santiago, Chile

This is my fourth day in Santiago and up until now I´d done very little. The weather had been shitty and I hadn´t been feeling great, so after going out Saturday night with my new friends Javier, Rodrigo, Vincent, and Catalina I did just about nothing Sunday and Monday. Monday I engaged in the guilty pleasure of watching three movies in a row at the hostel--something absolutely verboten in a foreign country with limited time (don´t worry, I won´t review them for you here...).

But, today was glorious and sunny; and I´m feeling nearly 100%. So, I covered lots of ground--which is easy in Santiago because although the city is large and dispersed, the central area with points of interest is relatively compact.


Plaza de Armas
I started my day at the Plaza de Armas, conventiently located just a few blocks from my hostel. The plaza is dedicated to those who fought and died for Chilean independence. In addition to statues, it features nice benches for chilling, artists painting and selling, regular gatherings of street performers, and, today, a book fair. I bought a few children´s books in Spanish to practice.







The Plaza is bordered on one side by a large and ornate cathedral. I must admit that large and ornate cathedrals do not make me happy--especially in poor countries. I can´t help but think that if god does exist (s)he wouldn´t want people to spend money on gold statues of Jesus and intricate carvings of apostles while people go without food and clean water.




In front of the cathedral, I met my new friend Tomas, a boyhood friend of Jorge from YLS. I thought we were meeting for lunch, but what I got was much better--a short guided tour of downtown Santiago.


Coffee with Legs
Our first stop was a bit mind blowing. Tomas took me to Cafe Selva for what he called ¨cafe con piernas,¨or ¨coffee with legs.¨ This is a coffee shop that looks quite like a strip club inside. There are no tables, just loud music and women in thongs and bikini tops serving beverages and dancing with customers.



Apparently this is extremely common in Chile--these places are all over the place. Here are the two strangest parts: First, these places aren´t even open at night--strictly a daytime affair. This particular cafe was open from 9am to 8pm. Second, this place was right in the middle of a regular looking mall, next to sneaker stores, etc. And, there were at least 2-3 other similar places in the same mall. I didn´t see anything like this in Argentina. Not that I was looking, mom.


Important Buildings
Fortified by coffee and Coke (most of you know I´ve never had a cup of coffee), we went to see some important buildings. First, the stock exchange, appropriately labeled Bolsa de Comercio, which translated directly means ¨Bag of Commerce.¨




Next, their White House...




...and Supreme Court.




Lunch at the Mercado
After Tomas and I parted ways, I walked to the Mercado Central for a seafood lunch. You can check out my food in the ¨Comida Tipica¨series, but here´s what the inside of the market looked like.





Cerro Santa Lucia
After lunch, I headed to Cerro Santa Lucia, a beautiful park on a large hill which provides some great views of the city (cerro means hill in Spanish).

Egos and Phalic Edifices
Finally, those of you following the blog will note that Argentina has a smaller version of the Washington Monument on Avenida de 9 de Julio. I commented that it seems every country needs its own phalic symbol. Well, it seems I was right. And, it seems further that the size of that symbol is directly related to the size of the egos of the citizens. The U.S., of course, takes the cake for self-absorbtion; Argentines are known to be the most hauty of the Latin Americans; and then there´s the smaller, less arrogant neighbor to the west with their monumento pequeño:

U.S.A.



















Argentina



















Chile

La Comida Tipica Chileno

As promised, the next installment of everyone´s favorite (and only) regular El Gringo y El Gallo feature, ¨La Comida Tipica¨comes to you live from Chile. I´m starting this in Santiago and who knows where I´ll finish it. Anyway, here goes.


Empanadas

Pablo, the very cool receptionist at my hostel, insists that empanadas are in fact Chilean, not Argentinian and that they are of course better here. So far I´ve had a few and they´ve been so so.

My first emanada was a pino, which includes ground beef, onion, raison, olive, and a piece of hard boiled egg. It was huge, but not super tasty. This picture is actually of my second, a spinich and cheese (lots of spinich, not lots of queso).



Today I had an empanada mariscono (with seafood) at the Mercado Central which has a bunch of seafood vendors and restaurants. It was nicely fried, but much smaller than the other one and there wasn´t all that much mariscon in it.



Traditional Dishes That Come in a Hot Brown Bowl

The first truly traditional dish I tried, on the recommendation of my new friend Javier, is called pastel de choclo. It´s basically a mushy corn pie filled with beef, chicken, raisons, olive, and hard boiled egg. I found the flavor strange and hard to place. It wasn´t that tasty, but it was a bit sweet--which made putting salt on it (which I would normally do to boost flavor) seem like a bad idea. It was also very mushy. The corn crust on top is not firm, but gloopy. Interesting experience, but I wouldn´t order it again.



Next, I took advice from another new friend Tomas (both new friends courtesy of Jorge Contesse from YLS, by the way--thanks Jorge) and went to Mercado Central for some chupe de locos. As you can see, this dish came out looking remarkably similar to the first one. It too is a gloopy mix served in a hot brown bowl. This time the stuffing was white fish cubes and there was what appeared to be parmesan cheese on top. The result was similar: an interesting experience I´m not dying to repeat.


Both gloopy bowl dishes were way too much food for one person, and both were somewhat amenable to bread scooping.

Sampled in Northern Chile

Here's Christian from Arica with a bowl of cazuela, a soup with potatos, vegetables, and meat or chicken.

Here's Mirtha from Santiago displaying mate con huesillos, a cold juice drink. Huesillos are fruits and mate is a type of corn at the bottom of the drink.