Travel Blog #1: The Introduction, Sort Of

It’s Friday evening, and I’m moving into my house in approximately one hour, and I have a feeling that things are about to, somehow, pick up even more. I haven’t had much time to write, and I’m sure there will be even less of it in the coming days. But I made a promise to myself (and quite a good deal of other people) that I was going to keep up with this blog, so I’m going to try and publish this real quick, before my life in Santiago really begins.

Not that my life in Santiago hasn’t begun or anything. I’ve been here less than a week, yet so much has happened already. I wrote a little bit last Sunday, just to capture the whirlwind of my first weekend, and that will have to suffice for this first blog post. Attempting to capture the days that came after is a project for another day, when I have more time. Will I ever have more time? Who’s to say. However, I will add some updates to what I have written, just to inject some flavor—some ají, if you will.

From Sunday:

I don’t even know where to begin.

The thing is that I’ve only seen Santiago during the daytime for all of three hours. Update: Santiago during the day is rad, especially after it rains and you can see the cordillera in all of its glory. 

I wasn’t able to catch even a wink on the plane, so I’ve been putting up heroic sleep numbers this weekend. On Saturday, I got a full workday, a 10AM to 6PM shift; on Sunday, an ever so slightly less nocturnal 3AM to 3PM. Admittedly, the sleep has been in a heated bed, quite easily the greatest innovation in the thermal department since fire itself. You can understand why the bed has ensnared me so. 

But that hasn’t even harshed my vibe, as one could say. I’ve had a grand old time. 

I’m going to try, and fail, to not sound like a little kid, enamored with every little thing from petroleum stores where they sell honey by the kilo to the roving bands of fifty-odd guys on motos flagrantly disregarding stoplights in comuna Santiago. Or the cleanliness—and the station art—of the metro. The fact that everybody here dresses way cooler than back home. The guys bombing Cerro San Cristobal on skateboards. Having tea with every single meal. Having bread with every single meal. A kid biking around with, inexplicably, a cheap plastic prosthetic leg in his hand. The magicos, colorful (and massive) weed brownies that you can buy on street corners outside of bars or record stores that look like they could take you higher than the cordillera itself.

Or chacareros. Freaking chacareros. Whether homemade or at Bar Alameda, I can get down with a chacarero. 

It’s not an exaggeration to say that being here is positively electrifying. 

Granted, it’s only been two days. But on the other hand, it’s only been two days. I haven’t even been to a single orientation at my university yet, or laid eyes on the house that I’m going to live in.

So where have I been? Right now, I’m in comuna Huechuraba, in the aforementioned heated bed, at Barbara’s house. Barbara has three ridiculously cute dogs, Cala, Guita, and Mamba (I have probably spelt these names wrong) who are super friendly and jump really high. I want to add a video of their hops, but apparently you need WordPress premium for that. Lame. Here’s a not-lame (but blurry as hell) photo of Guita and Mamba:

Barbara’s house is super cool. It’s really, really long and narrow, kind of like Chile. It used to be a horse stable. 

I know Barbara because she is the sister of Lorena, who is the wife of Laura, who is the good friend of my older sister, as these things often go. Yet despite being halfway to the theoretical maximum of degrees of separation, I have been treated like family the entire time. Barbara has shown me what feels like the entirety of Santiago in two days—but let me take it from the beginning.

The first restaurant that I saw in Santiago was a Dunkin at the airport, a slice of home 5,000 miles away. After making it through the customs line at around 6:30 AM, I got a ride from Pancho, a family friend of Barbara who told me a bit about Santiago and about his jobs as a professor and a prison psychologist. 

Then I arrived at the house of Nina and Pepe—Barbara’s parents—for breakfast, bread with meat and cheese. The bread here is really good, especially marraqueta, which I already know I’m going to miss when I leave Chile. Update: I’ve had multiple marraquetas every day. Their house is in comuna Recoleta, and they have the prettiest garden I have ever seen. So far I have been so lucky as to try three of its yields: oranges (and orange juice), almonds, and ají, which is a tangy kind of hot sauce, although the homemade one is more like a really fresh salsa.. All three have been divine. Update: When I told them how much I love ají, Pepe brought me my own container so that I can season food to my heart’s content.

Then I slept, which I told you about already. That night Barbara and I went to comuna Santiago and we had completos, of course completos (I forewent the mayo on the italiano), and afterward we walked around the Rio Mapocho and endless museums and government buildings and the Plaza de Armas and the Costanera and a whole lot of universities. On the sidewalks you can buy secondhand clothes, and I realize now that I should have come to Chile nude with an empty suitcase because literally everywhere you look you can find grail pieces for cheap. 

A few times I took photos, but Barbara told me to ask before I did so to make sure it was safe. The rule she gave me for walking at night is that if there are dogs, families, or bikers on a street, you’re definitely in the clear, but if it’s empty, take caution, especially later. Of course it depends on the area, as these things often go. In comuna Providencia, where my house will be located, it is, allegedly, safe all the time. But you can’t go out in Bellavista these days without putting yourself in a bit of danger. Update: I went out in Bellavista.

That was the extent of what I wrote on Sunday. As I look back on it now, it seems like I’m not even really going to be able to cover much of my second day in Santiago, because I have to go soon and I want to get this on the website. I’ll try to throw a few random thoughts out there real quick, though.

Every single house in Santiago is fenced-in, yet I’ve met more next-door neighbors here in a few days than I have in two years in Isla Vista. It’s funny how that works. In the U.S, our houses are, physically speaking, far more open, yet compared to here, our communities are far more closed off. 

Barbara, Nina, and Pepe are absolutely awesome. Here was Sunday night dinner:

I’m truly so grateful to them for showing me around, feeding me, and housing me this last week—and being patient with my shitty Spanish on top of that.

In terms of Spanish, I had a realization after my first weekend:

1. My Spanish is really bad.
2. It doesn’t even matter. I can make myself known, understand enough, and even have a personality from time to time.

Revisiting that prediction, I’m not so sure it’s aged well. My Spanish is really not up to par. However, being thrown into the fire has been a cool and fun challenge. The only scary thing is that an entire can of gasoline is about to be poured on that fire: all my classes start next week, and I’m about to meet a whole lot more people. Ojalá tenga éxito.

I’m not worried, but I am going to have to probably actively study a little bit each day, in addition to my steady daily overdose of immersion. 

Okay, this first blog post has been all over the place. In the future, I would like very much for that not to be the case. After next week, I’ll know a lot more about my rhythm, I think. I’ll be more prepared to write these, will know when to do so, and will have a whole lot more to update you all about. I’m excited to get on a consistent schedule, with this and everything else.

But until then, more craziness. I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Feel free to drop a comment below, and definitely make sure to subscribe (god, what have I become?).