Argentina on My Mind

The first five months I was in Chile I had this feeling. The feeling that if I visited Buenos Aires, Argentina's capital city, I would love it so much that it would make me regret that I hadn't chosen it as my South American home for the year. Part of it had to do with the rave reviews of the city that I got from every person who had ever visited or lived there. But the other part was just this premonition. I had the same feeling about London when I was studying in Sevilla. I just knew that I was going to love it. And, sure enough, when I visited my friend studying abroad in London I felt this unexplainable attraction to and at home-ness in the city--it was without a doubt my favorite place I had ever visited and I didn't want to leave.

But after this weekend in B.A., London has been replaced.

Immediately, from our first cab ride from the airport to the apartment we had rented, I was enchanted. I had forgotten how much beautiful architecture can affect the atmosphere or feel of a city. On every corner, beautiful European style buildings lent a classy, sophisticated, almost regal air to the city streets. I had been told by some that Buenos Aires is more "concrete jungle" than Santiago, but I didn't have that sense at all. There were parks all over the place, and the wide boulevards (their principal street, Avenida 9 de Julio, is claimed to be the widest in the world) prevented the suffocating feeling of say, New York.


Whereas I sometimes struggle to describe Chilean cuisine (as do Chileans whom I ask about this), in Buenos Aires it's all about the parilla--grilled meats. And they are insane. I'm not really a big red meat eater, but these steaks are out of this world. And the cherry on top of the culinary sundae for me is their outstanding pizza--grilled on hot stones and with a crispy thin crust, just how I like it.

Arguably my favorite part about the city, and what I think is most representative of the gulf between Santiago and B.A. is the fashion. As I have lamented in previous posts, for me, Santiago has nothing to offer as far as clothing and style goes. Not only are there very few options to buy fashionable, interesting pieces, but you don't see people walking around in covetable outfits...ever. The opposite in Buenos Aires. My friend Caren and I spent an entire day shopping around the boutiques of Palermo, and we had only just scratched the surface. And all of them filled with unique, incredibly well made, just gorgeous clothes. And I can't even start on the fashionistas that we saw on every corner, of every section of town, at every hour of the day. Add their great sense of style (both men and women) to their natural gorgeousness, and porteños are absolutely lethal in the looks department. And that's before they open their mouths and start laying on the charm with their irrestible breed of Spanish.

Obviously, language-obsessed as I have become since my arrival in Chile, I would have a strong opinion one way or another about Argentinian Spanish. I can't get enough of it. I love the way that they use vos instead of "tu." I secretly hoped that they'd have to use llegar or silla or any other ll word, the sound of which they prounounce like the s in "pleasure." And their intonation, which to me was reminiscent of the sing-songiness of Italian, made anyone and everyone's speech literally, music to my ears.

Perhaps it's been said before, but Buenos Aires, for me, combined the beauty and style of Paris, with the palpable energy of New York (just find yourself at one of their boliches, or dance clubs, at 6 AM and you'll know what I'm talking about), with a fiery Latin American flair. By the time I had been there for 4 hours, I was already telling everyone we met that I'd live in Buenos Aires one day. Unashamedly proud of their city, and in love with it as I was, they readily agreed that I should. But for now it's back in Santiago, which, as great as it is, unfortunately has suffered a great blow in my mind from it's cross-Andean neighbor.

A la Nieve

One of the things I knew I had to do while here in Chile is go skiing.  It's actually surprising that it took me until the end of the season to do it, given the fact that the Andes are staring me in the face every day, their snow-capped peaks taunting me and giving me the itch for fresh powder. Unfortunately, last Tuesday when I ventured up to Valle Nevado, there was no fresh powder to be had, but the experience of skiing in the Andes was nonetheless an unforgetable one.

Quite honestly, the snow was kind of crappy--they hadn't had a good snow fall in a couple weeks, and the spring-like sunshine was melting what they did have quickly. A good portion of the slopes were closed and there were more than a couple brown patches, where the muddy earth was starting to peak through the thin snow cover. But I could see how the skiing would be awesome with a foot or so of fresh snow. The set-up was unlike anything I had ever seen before. There weren't really trails per-se; it was more like a free for all, with skiers and snowboarders taking their pick of a path down the face of the mountain.

We had quite a laugh with the handle lifts that they used in place of chair lifts for some slopes, with my snowboarder friend getting jolted and dragged up by his arms the first couple of tries...I don't think they are made with snowboarders in mind. And just like their lower-maintenance lifts, Valle Nevado, though apparently one of the most developed ski resorts, was pretty bare-bones as far as infrastructure goes. I found this a pleasant break from the commercialized atmospheres in places like Colorado, with their mountain-top villages and ski-in-ski-out chalets dotting the slopes. We had packed a sandwich lunch and a couple cervezas and enjoyed it under the warm early spring sun on the deck of the lodge (and, no one bothered us about "picnicking" like they undoubtedly would have in the states). And I guess it's been a while since I've done a full day of skiing, because after our ride back to Santiago, down the hair-raising switchback road, I was absolutely exhausted...and fell asleep earlier than I have in I can't remember how long...8:45!

Is it just me...

Or has Chile had it's share of media attention this year, and not for happy things? First the earthquake, and now this mining tragedy/miracle. It's incredible that all thirty three of the miners are still alive, but I can't help but think of how terrible and difficult the next four months will be for them, as teams work to get them out. What was really surprising to me was that it took me until I got back to Chile, ten full days after the accident occurred, to learn of it. I didn't hear or read anything about it in U.S. media sources until the news broke that the men were alive. I couldn't be happier that the story took the miraculous and positive turn that it did, but I wish that the U.S. had showed some interest even when the story wasn't so sensational.

Just twelve little hours by plane...

After three relaxing weeks in the states, I am back in Santiago and about to start my second semester of teaching. While at home I was, not surprisingly, constantly reminded of the differences between the U.S. and Chile. Of course, there are tons of ways that living in Chile is different than living in the U.S., but here are a couple of the things that, perhaps oddly, stood out most to me:

Points on the board for the U.S:

• It was nice to be reintroduced to the customer service culture. To approach a salesperson or cashier and have them drop immediately whatever he was doing (since, after all, there was a live, paying customer standing right in front of him, duh) and attend to my needs, was a wonderful feeling. Chilean management should take a page out of the U.S.'s book and train their employees in this...business would benefit from it. 
• Nordstrom. Urban Chic. J.Crew. South Moon Under. Old Navy. Forever 21. And the list goes on. I have a new goal: find some way around whatever astronomical duties there must be to get decent clothes into Chile, and go into the import business. After 5 months of being either a) less than impressed with the fashions or b) dismayed by the prices of what was actually cute, I was like a kid in a candy store.

And a couple things that made me say "maldita oosah!" (Damn you, USA!)

• Besides rent, I feel like everyday items cost relatively the same in Chile as in the states. I realized on this trip home that I had forgotten one key category: transportation. Never again will I whine about paying for a cab or curse having to recharge my Bip card for the Santiago metro. Sitting in cabs in DC, watching the meter leap up, what seemed like every two seconds, it was all I could do not to ask the cabbie if he had rigged it. And, next to the DC metro's charge-by-distance system, Santiago's flat rate of 580 pesos (about $1.10) is a godsend. Plus, Santiago's metro is faster, more reliable, and cleaner. Sorry DC. 
• This is an obvious one, but, no Spanish! After months of serious mental effort, trying to force my brain to instinctively say "gracias" instead of thank you, and "disculpa" instead of pardon me or I'm sorry, now I was having to do the opposite. I definitely got a few weird looks from cashiers and people I accidentally bumped into when they heard a pale, red-head blurting out Spanish words. Besides the practical, there are words and phrases I've picked up in the past month that I just love using. Honestly, I don't think I'll ever be able to drop them. In general, living bilingually (is that a word?) is just a lot more interesting than operating in only one language. I missed it a lot.

And things that were, in the words of one very impartial and diplomatic professor of mine, "not better or worse, just different:"

• Unsolicited attention--in the form of staring, muttered com(pli)ments, and, only rarely, catcalls--from male strangers. On the one hand,  I'm inclined to think this is offensive. Though, in honesty, it's rarely actually offensive. More like sometimes annoying, and often a little off-putting. But, and independent women of the world don't scorn me, back in the states I found myself thinking, "Wow, I must not be looking too good today." Silly, I know,  but trust me, more than a couple girls I have talked to here agree.
• Better produce vs. better packaged food. In Chile, you have two choices: buy whole foods, like fresh (phenomenal) produce, meats, etc, and prepare it yourself, or buy packaged crap that's terrible for you. Grocery shopping back home, I was reminded of how much variety we have in the states when it comes to prepared foods. And, how good the quality of some of them are. I think that the food industry in the U.S. is doing a really good job of creating healthy, tasty options in packaged food, although, of course, these items are going to hurt your wallet a little more than Lays and Oreos. I don't know what I'd rather have really, Chile's amazing fruits and vegetables, or the United States endless supply of increasingly wholesome and healthful ready-to-eat options.  

Why You Should Go to San Pedro de Atacama

The Guidebook Atacama Top 5:
1. Tatio Geysers
2. Sunset in Valle de la Luna
3. Tour of Valle de la Muerte
4. Flamingo Watching at the Altiplano Lakes
5. Traditional Andean Villages

My Atacama Top 5:

1. The confidence boost to my Spanish--Since it's a tiny little town that survives entirely on tourism, San Pedro is absolutely filled with extranjeros. For this reason, I think the people of San Pedro, much more so than Santiaguinos, are used to, and even expect, the majority of people they encounter during the day to a) not know Spanish, or b) butcher it. It might sounds bad, but just walking around San Pedro and hearing travelers speak Spanish put me on cloud nine about my own language abilities. Add that to the compliments--yes, I actually received compliments on my Spanish instead of the blank, uncomprehending stares I get in Santiago--and the one case of mistaken identity (someone asked me what part of Spain I was from), and I was feeling pretty big-headed by the end of the trip. But, after five months of language insecurity I think I've earned a little pat on the back. Thanks for that, San Pedro.

2. Solar powered water heating systems--It sounds crazy, but this worked better than any other system I've encountered in Chile. At our hostel, as long as you did so during daylight hours, you could enjoy a long, consistently hot, high pressure shower. This is priceless in the desert, where you get dust and dirt everywhere, especially when you're there during an extremely rare weather system of insane wind storms.

3. Pizza--Once again, sounds crazy, but, when you're on a budget (and San Pedro is anything but budget-friendly) and traveling with a non-adventurous eater (shout-out Sarah), it's great that just about every place offers cheap deals on this staple. You can't go wrong with some crispy dough, tomato sauce, and cheese. Even better, most places threw in a free glass of wine with it. "What about taking advantage of the local cuisine?" you might say. San Pedro isn't the place for that. With any entree, even at the diviest place, costing upwards of 7,000 pesos ($14), you're better off checking out Chilean gastronomical offerings in Santiago where prices of food haven't been inflated for the tourist set.

4. Feeling like you're starring in a) Aladdin, or b) a John Wayne movie--If it's a middle eastern, Arabian nights vibe you want, head to the giant sand dunes of Valle de la Luna. We saw them by horseback, in the middle of a sandstorm (cool, but not so cool), and when we came around the corner and saw the huge drifts, it seriously took my breath away. If you'd prefer rugged, rocky plains to giant mountains of sand, they have that too. The Valley de la Muerte, the Cordillera de la Sal, and the entire drive to the Tatio Geysers are some of the harshest, unfriendliest looking landscapes I've ever seen. But it's incredible how their rocky, dusty, brown lifelessness, which sounds so ugly, is actually amazingly beautiful. Pictures don't do it justice, but if you've never seen a desert, it's definitely a sight I'd recommend at least once.

5. The uber-relaxed dress code--In the states, it's really no big deal if you head out to the grocery store or to do errands in a fleece and yoga pants. No one is going to look at you sideways. In Santiago, it's expected that you put a little more effort into your appearance if you're heading out in public. That's fine, but sometimes it's nice to just not have to care about what you look like. And that was definitely the case in San Pedro. I'd venture to say that, in our black yoga pants, sneakers, layers of fleece, and ponytails, Sarah and I looked downright cute by San Pedro standards (clearly, the locals who whistled at us were also impressed by our desert-chic look). Palm Springs it ain't, when the predominant fashion code consists of an alpaca poncho, various scarves, and a woolen hat, and jeans feel dressy. For a couple days though, it felt good to leave the makeup and all fashion sense at home.

Forbidden Fruit: Thoughts on Chile from a Visitor

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.

Sarah's visit and San Pedro Photos

I can't believe it's been over three weeks since I last posted! July has absolutely flown by. I'm hoping to make up for neglecting this blog in the next couple of days, but to start out here are my photos from my friend Sarah's recent visit to Santiago and our trip to San Pedro de Atacama in the north of Chile. Disclaimer: If looking at landscape pictures of other people's vacations makes you curse digital cameras, beware. There are LOTS of scenery shots and a couple dorky self-shots (Sarah left a day early and I had to make do!). And really,  pictures just don't do the desert justice. It was by far the most awe-inspiring landscape I've ever seen. Unlike anything else and completely other-worldly. I'll have a more thorough account of the trip up shortly...