Tazón

I have been living in Chile for 4 months now, and I had to get my dictionary and look up the word for "bowl" at breakfast. God help me.

I have come to realize that I write blog posts the way Michael Jordan plays baseball, infrequently and poorly. The only reason I am motivated to write right now is that my only other option is to go for a run, and it's raining. A lot has happened since the last time I wrote anything, including trips to Valparaiso, Easter Island, and the U.S. (!). Apparently that Pinochet guy is gone, as well. To avoid actually thinking or writing more than a paragraph, I will not discuss any of those things right now. I may not be a good blogger, but I am a hell of a Youtuber (that looks awkward, I would prefer Youtube-sketeer). So, without further ado, here are three music videos that I think are the cat's pajamas. Two feature rabbits riding bicycles, and one talks about body wash.

Maybe this will be a good way for me to ease back into blogging about things that have actually happened in my life, but probably not.


Through the rabbit hole:



Creepy, but in a good way, like the opposite of Bob Saget:



This last video is done all in one take, with the audio recorded live along with the video. Pretty incredible:



Thanks for putting up with me.

This One's a Doozy, Southern Chile and Patagonia

I went to Patagonia.

From the moment I decided to study in Chile, I was already thinking about visiting Patagonia. Patagonia occupied a weird place in my mind. I had heard about how amazing and beautiful it was, but really had no idea what it was like. My friend Stefan and I finally had the chance to go about a week ago. We had to skip a few classes to fit the trip in, but why would we let schooling get in the way of our education?

Tuesday night (April 21) we left on a bus to Puerto Montt. The bus didn’t leave until 9, and it was a 13 hour, overnight trip. This sounds like it could be brutal, but it was actually amazingly relaxing. Our bus was a “Cama,” or bed, bus. The seats were wider than normal and they reclined almost until they were horizontal. We also had a movie, and a bus attendant who tucked us in and brought us snacks. In the morning we awoke to the sweet sounds of Enya music videos, and they ended up showing about 8 of them on the bus TV’s. Let me tell you, there is no better way to wake up.

Wednesday we arrived in Puerto Montt and immediately hopped on a bus to go to Castro, the capital of Chiloe. Chiloe is a big island in Southern Chile. Chiloe is known for is fishing villages, seafood and houses on stilts. From Castro we took another bus (public transportation was the theme of the day) to Dalcahue, one of the aforementioned quaint fishing towns. We ate seafood at a dockside restaurant. We ordered congrio because the guy next to us had it and it looked tasty. It was delicious, but we found out afterwards that congrio is Spanish for conger eel, which grossed us out a little bit.

Thursday we headed back to Puerto Montt to catch our flight to Punta Arenas. Punta Arenas is the southernmost city of its size, and is the launching point for most activities in Patagonia. Our plan was to catch the 8:00 PM bus to Puerto Natales, and from there go to Torres del Paine, the national park, on Friday. When we landed I called the bus company, only to find out that the 8:00 bus was full. We were standing outside the abandoned airport, without a bus, taxis, or a place to stay, when a minor miracle happened. The 7:30 bus to Puerto Natales must have been running late, and it pulled up in front of the airport, with plenty of empty seats. God watches over children and fools, and I think at this point in my life I have graduated into the latter category. On the bus, we watched Predator 2 with the deaf bus attendant, who was excited to see that we enjoyed his movie selection.

Friday was our big day. But first, I should mention the weather. This time of year is fall in the Southern Hemisphere, so it is starting to get cold, especially in the south. The weather wasn’t too cold yet when we went down—probably in the 40’s most of the time—but it was incredibly rainy, as in it was probably raining for about 75% of our trip. Friday, our plan was to take a catamaran across a lake to get to the base site for the hikes. First we would hike to Glacier Grey, and Saturday we would hike to the French Valley.

That was the plan.

First problem: The guide who had recommended we take the catamaran didn’t mention that it costs about $30 US roundtrip. We learned this once we were already on the boat. We pooled our money and counted out our coins and came up with about $55, short of the necessary $60. Luckily, the captain had mercy on us and let us ride at a discounted rate.





Next problem: The weather. We set off on our hike in a steady drizzle that did not let up the entire journey. This, combined with the strongest winds I have ever felt in my life, made for a miserable atmosphere. Luckily, we had great views to distract us the whole time. The landscape was very stark and rugged, but in an undeniably beautiful way. One advantage to visiting in the fall was that the leaves were changing colors on all of the trees.







We made it to our destination, and were met with a stunning view. The glacier was enormous, and very blue. After enjoying the glacier, we faced a conundrum. There was a Refugio near the glacier that offered sheltered camping sites, but they cost money. We had already committed every red cent to our catamaran tickets, so we decided to start hiking back, get as far as we could before dark, and camp by the trail. We finally found a semi-sheltered camping spot after hiking about a mile, and set up our tent in the driving rain. This completed, we crawled into our moist sleeping bags and settled in for what was my second-most miserable night camping in my life.



We were at a glacier, so naturally we took our shirts off.

The next morning we made a tough decision. Our bags were soaked. Our boots were soaked. Our clothes were soaked. We realized that if we did stay another night we would be cold and cranky the whole time, so we decided to catch the catamaran back that day and spend an extra night in Punta Arenas. However, the catamaran only comes once a day, at 12:30. By the time we had everything packed, it was 10:40, and we had a 3 hour hike ahead of us. We took off at a brisk pace, without stopping to enjoy the scenery. We had to jog for the last mile or two, but we ended making the boat with a few minutes to spare.

As we were getting off the boat to catch our bus out of the park, Stefan asked one of the catamaran workers if the ridiculous winds we had been facing all trip were typical of Patagonia. The worker simply responded with "Este? Este no es viento." Which translates to "This? This isn't wind." Sobering thought.

That sums up our camping adventures. I was able to cross one more thing of my Chilean to-do list when I saw wild llamas in the park. There were actually so many llamas that they almost ceased to be a novelty. Almost.

Sunday- Sunday was spent exploring Punta Arenas. I went to mass at the church with the world’s southernmost pipe organ (I know!), and we stumbled across a naval training exercise that was a lot of fun to watch. Sunday night we went to a casino that looked like it was just built. I did my best to channel James Bond as I walked in, but ended up a lot closer to Clark Griswold in “Vegas Vacation.” If you ever find yourself in a Chilean casino, feel free to use my foolproof South American gambling strategy:

1. Always bet on 2.
2. Yell “Big Money!” as often as possible.
3. After losing a significant sum of money, casually remark “Well, I guess little Timmy won’t be getting his surgery after all.” This will get the dealer on your side, which is half the battle.
4. If you have a cowboy hat, wear it.

That about wrapped up our adventures. We returned to Santiago on Monday, tired, but victorious. Or at least not completely defeated.


Dan, you may now check for grammatical errors.

Some more pictures:

Skipping Town

I forgot to mention this in the last post, but I will be leaving for Patagonia in less than 48 hours. I, along with my friend Stefan, take an overnight bus to Puerto Montt Tuesday night. From there, we will explore the island of Chiloe for about a day and a half. By explore, I literally mean we don't have any plans and we are just going to see where the road takes us.

Thursday afternoon we have a flight from Puerto Montt to Punta Arenas. From Punta Arenas, we take a bus to Puerto Natales and then to our final destination, Torres del Paine. Torres del Paine is a national park that is supposed to have some of the most beautiful scenery in the world. If you have any tips/suggestions/encouragement, feel free to leave it as a comment or email me. Be generous, we need all the help we can get.

About time I wrote something

So I haven’t been doing a very good job on keeping everybody posted on my adventures. Every time I thought about how much I would have to cover it seemed too daunting a task, so I am just going to start fresh. I had a great Holy Week in Santiago, so, without further ado, here is my recap:

First of all, I should set the scene. I have been volunteering once a week at Colegio San Lorenzo, a school of about 900 students, going all the way from Pre-K through high school. San Lorenzo is in a poor area of the city, and, although it is a private, Catholic school, it is run as a charity and does not charge tuition. San Lorenzo, along with two other high schools, is run by members of the Manquehue Movement, a lay Benedictine movement that was started in Chile in 1977. I got in touch with the movement through Priory, and it has been a very rewarding experience. For Holy Week, Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and the Easter Vigil were each held at one of the high schools.

Holy Thursday-

On Thursday, I met up with Rodrigo, my Manquehue contact, and went with a group to Colegio San Anselmo. The school is located in Chicureo, a suburb of Santiago. Rodrigo used to be director of the school, so he gave me a tour, during which I SAW A TARANTULA! Rodrigo explained to me that it actually wasn’t a tarantula, but a similar non-venomous version. Forgive me if I lump all giant, hairy spiders into the same category. I had another surprise when Rodrigo told me that the celebrant would be Fr. Timothy Wright, a British monk who has a brother at Priory. It turned out that he is the brother of Fr. Ralph, my former advisor and occasional bizarre conversation partner (If you don’t know what I am talking about, ask Fr. Ralph about Flunk the Flying Monk, or giraffes). When I informed Fr. Timothy that I had been in his brother’s advisory, his only response was “Oh, and you managed to survive?”

Good Friday-

Good Friday services were held at my home base, San Lorenzo. After the Passion and Veneration of the Cross, we had my favorite part of the entire week: the Via Crucis, or stations of the cross. What made this special was that instead of staying in the church, the stations were spread out throughout the neighborhood. About 150 people from the neighborhood gathered outside the school for the stations. They brought their own candles in home-made holders constructed from soda bottles and plastic cups. We set off singing:

Llévame donde los hombres
necesiten tus palabras
necesitan mis ganas de vivir,
donde falta la esperanza
donde falta la alegría
simplemente, por no saber de Ti.

There was something incredibly inspiring about the faith of the poor people of the neighborhood. Given their lot in life, it is probably more difficult for them to believe in a just and loving God, but they do, and it was a beautiful thing to see them express their faith.

The best picture I could get of the stations:
This cart was going to lead the procession until we accidentally popped one of the tires:

Easter Vigil-

The Easter Vigil was held at Colegio San Benito. This mass was special because I played a pivotal role as Candle Holder #14. The service was beautiful, but incredibly long, like almost 3 hours long. Because mass did not start until 10:30, this means we got out a little before 1:30 AM. However, instead of everybody returning to their respective homes, they got coolers of food from their cars and had a huge party at the school. I think it is a great idea to celebrate the most important holiday of the year in community. The vino flowed freely (including onto my white dress shirt—sorry mom, it wasn’t my fault) and I did not get home until 4:30 in the morning. Needless to say, I was exhausted, but I had an Easter experience that I will not forget any time soon.