Lucky for me, my visitor doesn't have writers' block....maybe I'll get something posted one of these days...in the meantime enjoy Sarah's account of her "Chilean experience"
There are many things you're not supposed to bring on an airplane. Some are obvious- the usual suspects: knives, guns, chemicals, etc. These days, a few more, seemingly less harmful items have been added to the list: most sporting goods, nail scissors, and, according to the TSA website, cattle prods are specifically prohibited in carry on baggage. So one can imagine, upon my arrival in Chile, my absolute shock when I was pulled from the line in customs and sequestered to a small office where I was questioned. The offending article: una manzana. AKA, an apple. A single apple, nestled in the bottom of my carry-on bag, that I had planned to eat en route and simply forgot about, was what almost landed me a $230 fine and my name on a Chilean blacklist.
Apparently, it is a crime to bring food of any kind into Chile. So I was pulled aside, and the crime was written up. They weighed my manzana, (2 onzas) and recorded the weight, as well as the location of the forbidden fruit when they came across it… (in el bolso…) After, I was questioned to make sure that I didn't have “mala intenta” in trying to sneak this apple into the country. Since this was my first offense, I would not be fined; however, the manzana had to be destroyed…
All of this went on as Megan patiently waited for me outside of customs, not knowing what had become of me and if I would ever appear. Having no way of contacting her, I worried she would leave and I would be stuck in the Santiago airport. Thankfully she's a better friend than that....
I don’t know what I expected before coming to Chile, but I think Megan’s guide book sums it up well when it says, “Paris, it ain’t.” Though, what Santiago lacks in energy and culture, it makes up for in natural beauty. Sitting in a valley of the Andes, the majestic, snow-capped mountains are visible from most parts in the city. When the sun peeks through the smog and lights up their peaks, it is truly breathtaking. And there are plenty of places from which to take in the views, including the Cerro San Cristobal, a gigantic hill overlooking the city, and the Giratorio restaurant where we had coffee as the restaurant floor spun around, allowing us to take in a panoramic scene of Santiago.
Walking through the city, I was surprised to see so many stray dogs. There are black labs, German shepherds and Australian shepherds, to name a few, wandering the city, without collars. These dogs are stray, as evidenced by their, ahem, droppings, all over the sidewalks, but many of them appear to be well-fed, and well-groomed. Most of them I would take home. So if anyone wants a pet, ask Megan to sneak one on the plane when she comes home. They are really nice too, they follow you around and just like being near people.
Another thing I noticed about Chileans-- they all look like they got dressed in the dark. “Moda” or fashion, is virtually nonexistent here. Everyone was super bundled up because they are all “con frio” or freezing, when the mercury drops below 70 degrees, and the unbearable temperatures were the topic of many conversations I heard in coffee shops, convenience stores and when friends greeted each other on the street. But even when the temperature drops in New York, people find ways to still look their best. Here, anything goes. Most of us probably think acid washed jeans disappeared after the 80s, but actually, somebody just boxed them up and sent them down to Chile.
Not that I was there to shop, but I didn't see one clothing store that even moderately resembled a store in the U.S. Each store that we visited had maybe 10 total articles, and never more than one of each thing. And no store sold only clothing, they all sold a mish mash of trinkets, candles, incense, and home wares with a kitschy flare that are interesting to look at, but not to buy. I passed several shops that claimed to sell “ropa Americana,” aka consignment shops that sell old college T-shirts and army fatigues. I’m really glad that this is what the rest of the world thinks of our “fashion.” But seriously, one day on the metro I saw women (and men) in tight, white, skinny jeans (remember, its winter here) with pleather, Velcro sneakers and layered sweatshirts with prints reminiscent of M.C. Hammer’s pants. For the most part, the men stick to the relatively inoffensive sweater over a button down with a tie look, to combat the frio temperatures, though I saw my fair share of these sweaters in a healthy shade of rust… For the women, anything goes… from layered, fringed, ill-fitting sweaters to floral printed mini skirts with striped tights. I saw it all, even on people who appear to be dressed for some sort of professional atmosphere… I think maybe when the temperature drops, anything goes down here.
Our day trip to Valparaiso showed me a far more quaint side of Chile. (Though I’m not sure “quaint” is the appropriate word for a city with over 800,000 occupants.) There were few high-rise buildings in this city, but built into hills along the sea were endless colorful abodes, each one fighting the others for an oceanfront view. On the streets, artists have scrambled steep hills and climbed walls for prime real estate to display the local craft of choice: graffiti. On most walls and paths, graffiti covers every inch of free space, but this is not the vandalism or autographs you see in the subways. These are real creations, pictures of people and places, colorful swirls and scenery that decorate the walks along this city’s windy streets. Megan and I had a leisurely stroll through the hills, wondering where all the people were. Then we had a long, Chilean- style lunch outdoors on a private patio. Our lunch, in true Chilean form, included two glasses of wine each and it really felt like an escape. I could get used to this. We finished our adventure with a walk along the port and a restful bus ride back to the bustling streets of Santiago.
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