1. Broken bottles cemented atop a wall is your security system.
2. All men sleep on buses no matter how poor the roads.
3. People have great hair.
4. Virgins are cool.
5. Women miraculously walk in stiletto heels on cobble stone streets.
6. Purchasing a bus ticket does not always entitle you to a place to sit.
7. Inkacola tastes like bubble gum.
8. Track suits are school uniforms.
9. Overnight buses show horror movies right before you are supposed to go to sleep.
10. Dirty or scratched coins are not accepted
11. Llamas wear sunglasses and pose for photos.
12. You have to decide when is the right time to kick a dog.
13. Every window on the bus is a trash can.
14. Stupid tourists buy digoridoos at indiginous Andean markets.
15. Cultural differences in sidewalk etiquette make crowded city navigation difficult.
16. A 9 seat van holds 21.
17. Every item gets its own plastic bag.
18. The claws of chicken feet break the surface as the level of your soup drops.
19. Distance is measured in time instead of kilometers.
20. Except at banks lines are unacknowledged.
21. Machu Picchu has the only soda fountain in the Andes.
22. There is only one type of cheese.
23. Prices are not fixed and never indicated (except in Chile).
24. It is cheaper to eat at a resturant then to cook for yourself (except Chile).
25. Water is electrically heated in the shower head; which is shocking when not installed correctly.
26. No one has change.
27. Directions are given with a series of hand gestures and repeated ¨por alla¨.
28. At each hostel you must register your passport number and list your occupation, but no one seems to notice if you are a ´rock star´or ´sex machine´.
29. No meal is complete without at least one liter of soda.
30. All grass areas in parks are fenced off and strictly not for walking on.
31. In Bolivia the fuel we use for our stove in also the poor man´s drink of choice, (192 proof ethenol).
32. In Colombia, a leading coffee producer, everyone drinks instant coffee. In Ecuador, a leading cocao producer, the chocolate is terrible; all the good stuff is exported to Switzerland.
33. Look with extreme skeptisism upon the phrase, ¨We have hot water 24 hour a day¨.
34. On Sundays, nothing but God´s store is open.
35. Boxed wine and bottled wine are the same quality and cost.
36. Always, at minimum, double the recomended amount of water for powdered drink mixes.
Typical Local/Tourist exchange:
Brad: (in Spanish) What flavors of soft serve icecream do you have?
Icecream Lady: Chocolate and peach.
Brad: Can I have a cone of just chocolate?
Icecream Lady: Chocolate?
Brad: Yes, chocolate.
Icecream Lady: Here you are. (handing Brad the cone)
Brad: (After paying and taking his first bite) This is peach.
Icecream Lady: Yes, I ran out of chocolate.
Brad: So you only have peach?
Icecream Lady: Yes, only peach.
Brad and Anika walk away laughing.
Most common exchange in South America:
Local: What is your name?
Brad: Brad.
Local: Bratt.
Brad: No, Brad.
Local: Brett.
Brad: Brad.
Local: Like Brad Pitt?
Brad: Yes, like Brad Pitt.
Local: (very excitedly) Ohhh! Yes Brad Pitt.
-Brad and Anika
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Today is election day in Chile. I have fond memories of watching the US presidential primary election in a movie theater full cheering people in Portland. I hope we can find some place to watch the results, but I am doubtful as much of the town in closed down today. Anika and I are still enjoying each others´ company and we are both exited to be heading to Patagonia. On the way down I am hoping to stay on an oganic farm and work for a few weeks in exchange for our room and board. I have been feeling a little restless with my lack of physical productivity and it would be good to expel some energy in this way.
Traveling in Chile has been very relaxing as the transportation infrastructure is excellent and we can relax our guard somewhat against theft and scams. Chile is South America´s richest country and therefore the wealth disparity between the locals and us is much less. This has served to ease some of the strain on my conscience, which was heavy at times, especially walking the streets of Bolivia. The inequality in the world is not just, and everyone knows this, but it is easier to ignore when not looking it directly in the eyes.
We spent a few nice days in Santiago, Chile´s capital. The days were warm and sunny and our hostel had a swiming pool. We reunited with two friends, Morgan and Daniel, from our tour of the Bolivian salt flats. Morgan was about to return to the US and we were able to attend her going away party/BBQ.
The wine here is good, Anika is getting better at cards(cribbage), and the days are getting longer with every mile we make southward. I hope all is well in the north half of the world.
-Brad
Traveling in Chile has been very relaxing as the transportation infrastructure is excellent and we can relax our guard somewhat against theft and scams. Chile is South America´s richest country and therefore the wealth disparity between the locals and us is much less. This has served to ease some of the strain on my conscience, which was heavy at times, especially walking the streets of Bolivia. The inequality in the world is not just, and everyone knows this, but it is easier to ignore when not looking it directly in the eyes.
We spent a few nice days in Santiago, Chile´s capital. The days were warm and sunny and our hostel had a swiming pool. We reunited with two friends, Morgan and Daniel, from our tour of the Bolivian salt flats. Morgan was about to return to the US and we were able to attend her going away party/BBQ.
The wine here is good, Anika is getting better at cards(cribbage), and the days are getting longer with every mile we make southward. I hope all is well in the north half of the world.
-Brad
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Another Jump to the South
Today is Saturday, and I only know this because I happened to look at my watch this morning and notice the little S in the upper part of the screen. Sometimes I literally go for days without knowing what day of the week it is. And then one day I try to go explore a little town and everything is closed...and then I know it is Sunday. But today is actually a significant day because tomorrow, Sunday, January 17th, are the run-off presidential elections in Chile and they are hotly contested. The first elections happened in December and since there was no majority reached the top two candidates, Piñera and Frei, are facing off. Piñera is the more conservative candidate and he is said to have a slight lead since he won more of the vote in December but Frei, the more liberal candidate, may come through on top since the Independent candidate who is generally favored by liberal voters, is no longer in the race. There is such a split in the population that nobody really knows who will win and there is some anxiety since Chile has not had a conservative president in decades. I am pretty interested in the outcome and I am hoping to be able to get access to some election coverage tomorrow. This is somewhat improbable, however, because in Chile, as in Bolivia, election day is treated almost as a national holiday and businesses begin to close today in the afternoon and will remain closed through Sunday so that everybody can vote. Alcohol sales are also cut off tonight and will not resume until Monday. Another interesting election tidbit is that once you vote in Chile for the first time you must vote in every subsequent election or you will be either slapped a huge fine or worse unless you are physically a certain distance away from your voting district. Because of this, we heard that many residents of Santiago travel 6 hours north to La Serena to avoid their voting duties.
Whatever happens in the Sunday elections, Brad and I will be camped out in a little campsite near the lakeside town of Villarrica, in the Lakes District of Chile. We arrived yesterday after a ridiculous day of travelling that consisted of 5 different buses and as many different cities. For the last couple of days we have been in the Reserva Natural Radal Siete Tazas, a park just to the east of the Panamerican highway and south a few hours from Santiago. The park is famous for it´s sparkling clear river that snakes it´s way through an impressively deep but narrow canyon, dropping in a series of waterfalls into 7 pools known as the Siete Tazas (seven cups). There is a beautiful trail that runs alongside the waterfalls and we were lucky enough to observe 3 kayakers descending through each section of of the seven pools! The final sight on this small section of river is a waterfall known as Salta La Leona which plunges out of the steep sided gorge into a wide bowl and a nice pool that swimmers can enjoy (if they can endure the icy water which Brad compared to Crater Lake and I definitely didn´t get in far enough to say). It was really a relief to be out in nature for a couple of days after spending the last few weeks in Valparaíso and Santiago, which were great fun but intense places. We realized that in Chile we have camped almost every night except for when we stayed in hostels in the big cities, but even though we have been sleeping in a tent, we have not been in nature. However, we have reached the Lakes District, the gateway to Patagonia, and that means we will be embarking on some serious nature adventure very soon! On Monday we will begin a short backpacking trip to traverse the side of Volcán Villarrica, which I climbed back when I visited this area in 2005.
The Lakes District is obviously rich in lakes but it is also has plentiful volcanos, most of which are very classically cinder cone shaped and covered in a nice layer of snow. None of the volcanos here are over 4,000 meters so they are not tall compared to any of the Andes mountains in Peru or Ecuador. But they are quite scenic mixed with the landscape of lakes and pine forests which very much resemble areas of the Pacific NW. Last night we also had the first rain we have experienced since I can even remember...maybe it was La Paz...or perhaps there was a slight rainstorm in Tupiza in southern Bolivia that required the use of our raingear. But since then we have seen not a drop of rain so I certainly have no animosity toward a little sprinkling. Plus our tent could use a bath!
That´s pretty much the news for now. I do have one story to relate about Valparaíso. There´s a dance club I used to go to called El Huevo which was amazing because it consisted of 4 floors and at least as many rooms playing a variety of music. Well, of course I had to take Brad there and so we went on the Friday night before leaving Valpo. Besides a higher cover charge and a slightly remodeled space, it was the same place I remember from 5 years ago! Without realizing it, we danced, heard a couple of live cover bands play, and observed some amazing salsa dancers in the rooftop bar until the club kicked everyone out at closing time, 5am. By that time, I had gone back to the dark corner where I had stashed my white fleece sweatshirt earlier in the night and I found it missing along with another light cardigan sweater. I was pretty upset considering I have very few clothing items on this trip and the fleece was a key layer for warmth for me. But then I remembered that on one trip to Huevo back in 2005, I had inadvertantly walked away from the coatcheck with my own 2 jackets and many blocks later realized that I had also taken a light black jacket that certainly was not mine. I wore that jacket all over Chile and Connecticut and Boston and I continue to wear that jacket in Oregon these days. So I guess it was just club karma that took that white fleece from me! Besides, after leaving Huevo, who could be upset while observing the crowds of partiers in Valpo on a Friday night/morning all devouring the classic completo (hotdog with avocado, katchup, mustard, and mayonaise) before stumbling home to bed as the sun rises?
More later!
Chao,
Anika
Whatever happens in the Sunday elections, Brad and I will be camped out in a little campsite near the lakeside town of Villarrica, in the Lakes District of Chile. We arrived yesterday after a ridiculous day of travelling that consisted of 5 different buses and as many different cities. For the last couple of days we have been in the Reserva Natural Radal Siete Tazas, a park just to the east of the Panamerican highway and south a few hours from Santiago. The park is famous for it´s sparkling clear river that snakes it´s way through an impressively deep but narrow canyon, dropping in a series of waterfalls into 7 pools known as the Siete Tazas (seven cups). There is a beautiful trail that runs alongside the waterfalls and we were lucky enough to observe 3 kayakers descending through each section of of the seven pools! The final sight on this small section of river is a waterfall known as Salta La Leona which plunges out of the steep sided gorge into a wide bowl and a nice pool that swimmers can enjoy (if they can endure the icy water which Brad compared to Crater Lake and I definitely didn´t get in far enough to say). It was really a relief to be out in nature for a couple of days after spending the last few weeks in Valparaíso and Santiago, which were great fun but intense places. We realized that in Chile we have camped almost every night except for when we stayed in hostels in the big cities, but even though we have been sleeping in a tent, we have not been in nature. However, we have reached the Lakes District, the gateway to Patagonia, and that means we will be embarking on some serious nature adventure very soon! On Monday we will begin a short backpacking trip to traverse the side of Volcán Villarrica, which I climbed back when I visited this area in 2005.
The Lakes District is obviously rich in lakes but it is also has plentiful volcanos, most of which are very classically cinder cone shaped and covered in a nice layer of snow. None of the volcanos here are over 4,000 meters so they are not tall compared to any of the Andes mountains in Peru or Ecuador. But they are quite scenic mixed with the landscape of lakes and pine forests which very much resemble areas of the Pacific NW. Last night we also had the first rain we have experienced since I can even remember...maybe it was La Paz...or perhaps there was a slight rainstorm in Tupiza in southern Bolivia that required the use of our raingear. But since then we have seen not a drop of rain so I certainly have no animosity toward a little sprinkling. Plus our tent could use a bath!
That´s pretty much the news for now. I do have one story to relate about Valparaíso. There´s a dance club I used to go to called El Huevo which was amazing because it consisted of 4 floors and at least as many rooms playing a variety of music. Well, of course I had to take Brad there and so we went on the Friday night before leaving Valpo. Besides a higher cover charge and a slightly remodeled space, it was the same place I remember from 5 years ago! Without realizing it, we danced, heard a couple of live cover bands play, and observed some amazing salsa dancers in the rooftop bar until the club kicked everyone out at closing time, 5am. By that time, I had gone back to the dark corner where I had stashed my white fleece sweatshirt earlier in the night and I found it missing along with another light cardigan sweater. I was pretty upset considering I have very few clothing items on this trip and the fleece was a key layer for warmth for me. But then I remembered that on one trip to Huevo back in 2005, I had inadvertantly walked away from the coatcheck with my own 2 jackets and many blocks later realized that I had also taken a light black jacket that certainly was not mine. I wore that jacket all over Chile and Connecticut and Boston and I continue to wear that jacket in Oregon these days. So I guess it was just club karma that took that white fleece from me! Besides, after leaving Huevo, who could be upset while observing the crowds of partiers in Valpo on a Friday night/morning all devouring the classic completo (hotdog with avocado, katchup, mustard, and mayonaise) before stumbling home to bed as the sun rises?
More later!
Chao,
Anika
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Revisiting Valpo
You know how people say that no news is good news. Well, considering it has been a couple of weeks since either Brad or I have updated the blog, I can assure you it is because things are proceeding excellently here in Chile!
I guess to start I should wish you all a Happy New Year! I hope you all had delightful celebrations. Brad and I were in the beach town of La Serena for the festivities, camping just a block away from the ocean among the highrise condominiums and apartment buildings that line the very posh seaside strip located about an hour walk from the colonial church filled city center of La Serena. The beach is a very popular New Years destination for Chileans and they come in droves from the inland cities to enjoy the wide, fine white sandy beaches and to soak up the plentiful summer sun. There were moments when you could hardly see the sand for all of the colorful umbrellas that were crammed between the boardwalk and the waves. It was very obvious that the majority of the Chilean tourists who were populating the lodgings near the beach were quite well off financially and many of the restaurants and invitation only New Years Eve parties were well beyond our budget. Luckily, the best parties were found directly on the beach where families set up card tables stocked with Pisco, wine, champagne and plenty of munchies to fortify their late night celebrations. At midnight there was a fireworks display (actually there were 4 of them up and down the beaches) that was not as impressive as some I´ve seen but still provided entertainment as they appeared to actually light the waves on fire (there were probably some pretty scared fish out there)! Brad and I were able to chill a bottle of champagne by placing it carefully between 2 bags of ice we found in the Hiper Lider (huge Costcolike supermarket). It was the first bagged ice we have seen during the entire trip!
When we were sufficiently finished with our explorations of La Serena we moved 2 hours inland to the Valle de Elqui to the little tiny town of Pisco Elqui. This valley is a series of stark deserty mountains cut down the middle with a vein of leafy vineyards where grapes especially suited for making Pisco are grown almost exclusively in this one location in Chile. The dry heat was perfectly balanced with a blustery wind to create a lazy climate. If I lived in Pisco Elqui I would never get anything done due to the irresistable urge to relax with an ice cream cone in the shady plaza. Luckily I was there to do just that as well as to take a walk down the road to the nearest artisan Pisco distillary, Los Nichos, where I got to check out the bodegas where barrels of the grape brandy were slowly aging. Samples were also provided and Brad and I ended up buying a nice bottle of Pisco to mix with cocacola (for a Piscola) or sprite (for a Pisco blanco). In Pisco Elqui we camped in a rowdy campsite where hoards of Chilean revelers often stayed up until sunrise singing and playing bongo drums but it was amusing enough to keep me from feeling annoyed.
After 2 nights in Pisco Elqui the day finally came for me to return to Valparaíso, the port city where I spent all of my 5 months abroad almost 5 years ago. I have been biding my time for a chance to return and I was pretty much beside myself with anticipation through the whole 7.5 hour bus journey (that should have been just 6 but there were "muchos tacos," or traffic jams, according to the bus driver). In Valpo, Brad and I have been staying at a beautiful hostel that is artistically decorated with colorful walls and little art installations in every corner. It has been a perfect base for exploring the city since it is centrally located just partway up Cerro Carcel, one of the many hills that surround the bay of Valparaíso. The hills that depart from the slight 3 block wide downtown sector of the city help to create the haphazard image of Valpo that is conjured when travellers remember the colorful houses hanging on the sides of rocky outcroppings and the curvy, meandering streets broken up by endless staircases and secret passageways that give the city so much character. Exploring the city this time around has been exciting because we have had 4 days of blue sky and sunlight that sparkles off of the bay and the activities of cargo boats and cruise ships that come and go. Everything is extremely familiar to me and it is a comfort knowing where I can find hardware stores, the cheapest groceries, and the best places for getting beer or pastries. Also Brad and I sat in the general admission galeria of a very important, first of the season, soccer game featuring the cherished Valparaíso team oddly called the Santiago Wanderers. The game took place in the stadium on Cerro Playa Ancha, right next door to the Universidad de Playa Ancha, where I attended classes when I studied in Valpo. It was definitely a trip to revisit that spot. When the Wanderers won there were many celebrations and repetitions of the quick s-s-s-santiagowanderersvalparaíso! The game was monitored by the intimidating Carabineros (riot police) who were patting everyone down in a pretty invasive search and were not allowing any plastic bottles into the stadium. Somehow Brad managed to charm one of them into letting him keep a ratty ductape wrapped bottle that we have been drinking from throughout this entire trip! On a side note, purchasing and throwing away plastic has been one of the most mentally disturbing aspects of this trip for me. I can´t stand throwing away plastic and that includes plastic bottles, plastic bags, the thick plastic jugs that drinkable yogurt comes in and all of the plastic packaging that comes standard on most items. It´s tough to contribute to the trash heaps especially when so much of it can be seen in roadside ditches and washing up onto beaches. I try to reuse the plastic bags that the produce sections of the grocery stores insist you use even when purchasing a single tomato but I do endure some funny looks from people!
So, Valpo has been amazing and we still have at least one more day here, just until I feel like I have seen everything that needs to be seen. Brad and I went to the top of a tall hill yesterday to see La Sebastiana, one of three houses owned by Chilean poet Pablo Neruda. He was an amazingly clever decorator and everything in his quirky houses served a purpose, had a back story or related some joke or poem to the visitor. It is an inspiring place with a stunning panoramic view of the whole city of Valparaíso. Today, Brad and I took a micro (little public bus) over to the adjacent resort town of Viña del Mar where the beaches are suitable for swimming and sun bathing and there are tree-lined, shop-filled streets. It is a less gritty version of Valpo but has none of the artistic touches or funky student presence that I appreciate so much in Valpo. Still it was nice to wander there for a day and to have lunch at Cafe Journal, a spot I used to frequent when I lived here.
Santiago is the next stop on the list but we probably will stay just long enough to see a few sights and to try to get our ipod fixed at an Apple store since I know there is at least one in the capital. We have been without music for a couple of months now and I´m getting a bit desperate! Check out the picture page...we´ve added some photos and we´re slowly working on captioning the rest.
Best wishes and besitos from Chile!
Love,
Anika
I guess to start I should wish you all a Happy New Year! I hope you all had delightful celebrations. Brad and I were in the beach town of La Serena for the festivities, camping just a block away from the ocean among the highrise condominiums and apartment buildings that line the very posh seaside strip located about an hour walk from the colonial church filled city center of La Serena. The beach is a very popular New Years destination for Chileans and they come in droves from the inland cities to enjoy the wide, fine white sandy beaches and to soak up the plentiful summer sun. There were moments when you could hardly see the sand for all of the colorful umbrellas that were crammed between the boardwalk and the waves. It was very obvious that the majority of the Chilean tourists who were populating the lodgings near the beach were quite well off financially and many of the restaurants and invitation only New Years Eve parties were well beyond our budget. Luckily, the best parties were found directly on the beach where families set up card tables stocked with Pisco, wine, champagne and plenty of munchies to fortify their late night celebrations. At midnight there was a fireworks display (actually there were 4 of them up and down the beaches) that was not as impressive as some I´ve seen but still provided entertainment as they appeared to actually light the waves on fire (there were probably some pretty scared fish out there)! Brad and I were able to chill a bottle of champagne by placing it carefully between 2 bags of ice we found in the Hiper Lider (huge Costcolike supermarket). It was the first bagged ice we have seen during the entire trip!
When we were sufficiently finished with our explorations of La Serena we moved 2 hours inland to the Valle de Elqui to the little tiny town of Pisco Elqui. This valley is a series of stark deserty mountains cut down the middle with a vein of leafy vineyards where grapes especially suited for making Pisco are grown almost exclusively in this one location in Chile. The dry heat was perfectly balanced with a blustery wind to create a lazy climate. If I lived in Pisco Elqui I would never get anything done due to the irresistable urge to relax with an ice cream cone in the shady plaza. Luckily I was there to do just that as well as to take a walk down the road to the nearest artisan Pisco distillary, Los Nichos, where I got to check out the bodegas where barrels of the grape brandy were slowly aging. Samples were also provided and Brad and I ended up buying a nice bottle of Pisco to mix with cocacola (for a Piscola) or sprite (for a Pisco blanco). In Pisco Elqui we camped in a rowdy campsite where hoards of Chilean revelers often stayed up until sunrise singing and playing bongo drums but it was amusing enough to keep me from feeling annoyed.
After 2 nights in Pisco Elqui the day finally came for me to return to Valparaíso, the port city where I spent all of my 5 months abroad almost 5 years ago. I have been biding my time for a chance to return and I was pretty much beside myself with anticipation through the whole 7.5 hour bus journey (that should have been just 6 but there were "muchos tacos," or traffic jams, according to the bus driver). In Valpo, Brad and I have been staying at a beautiful hostel that is artistically decorated with colorful walls and little art installations in every corner. It has been a perfect base for exploring the city since it is centrally located just partway up Cerro Carcel, one of the many hills that surround the bay of Valparaíso. The hills that depart from the slight 3 block wide downtown sector of the city help to create the haphazard image of Valpo that is conjured when travellers remember the colorful houses hanging on the sides of rocky outcroppings and the curvy, meandering streets broken up by endless staircases and secret passageways that give the city so much character. Exploring the city this time around has been exciting because we have had 4 days of blue sky and sunlight that sparkles off of the bay and the activities of cargo boats and cruise ships that come and go. Everything is extremely familiar to me and it is a comfort knowing where I can find hardware stores, the cheapest groceries, and the best places for getting beer or pastries. Also Brad and I sat in the general admission galeria of a very important, first of the season, soccer game featuring the cherished Valparaíso team oddly called the Santiago Wanderers. The game took place in the stadium on Cerro Playa Ancha, right next door to the Universidad de Playa Ancha, where I attended classes when I studied in Valpo. It was definitely a trip to revisit that spot. When the Wanderers won there were many celebrations and repetitions of the quick s-s-s-santiagowanderersvalparaíso! The game was monitored by the intimidating Carabineros (riot police) who were patting everyone down in a pretty invasive search and were not allowing any plastic bottles into the stadium. Somehow Brad managed to charm one of them into letting him keep a ratty ductape wrapped bottle that we have been drinking from throughout this entire trip! On a side note, purchasing and throwing away plastic has been one of the most mentally disturbing aspects of this trip for me. I can´t stand throwing away plastic and that includes plastic bottles, plastic bags, the thick plastic jugs that drinkable yogurt comes in and all of the plastic packaging that comes standard on most items. It´s tough to contribute to the trash heaps especially when so much of it can be seen in roadside ditches and washing up onto beaches. I try to reuse the plastic bags that the produce sections of the grocery stores insist you use even when purchasing a single tomato but I do endure some funny looks from people!
So, Valpo has been amazing and we still have at least one more day here, just until I feel like I have seen everything that needs to be seen. Brad and I went to the top of a tall hill yesterday to see La Sebastiana, one of three houses owned by Chilean poet Pablo Neruda. He was an amazingly clever decorator and everything in his quirky houses served a purpose, had a back story or related some joke or poem to the visitor. It is an inspiring place with a stunning panoramic view of the whole city of Valparaíso. Today, Brad and I took a micro (little public bus) over to the adjacent resort town of Viña del Mar where the beaches are suitable for swimming and sun bathing and there are tree-lined, shop-filled streets. It is a less gritty version of Valpo but has none of the artistic touches or funky student presence that I appreciate so much in Valpo. Still it was nice to wander there for a day and to have lunch at Cafe Journal, a spot I used to frequent when I lived here.
Santiago is the next stop on the list but we probably will stay just long enough to see a few sights and to try to get our ipod fixed at an Apple store since I know there is at least one in the capital. We have been without music for a couple of months now and I´m getting a bit desperate! Check out the picture page...we´ve added some photos and we´re slowly working on captioning the rest.
Best wishes and besitos from Chile!
Love,
Anika
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Chi-Chi-Chi-lay-lay-lay!
Before I go into any description of our final experiences in Bolivia, I must express my insane happiness at being in Chile again! In order to maintain composure during the 3 previous months of travel I must have somehow put out of my mind how much I have been anticipating my return to the country where I studied back in 2005. But now that I am here, I am psyched up for many weeks of travel south through the varied landscapes of this pencil thin country. It is also much easier to plan an itinerary in Chile because there is really only one direction in which to travel, south, and any east and west travel can be accomplished in a matter of a couple of hours at most. We crossed the Chilean border from Bolivia 2 days ago after finishing up a 3 day tour of the salt flats and other sights in southwestern Bolivia. After the almost 3 weeks of travel on rough Bolivian roads riddled with potholes and uneven surfaces, my first impression of Chile was as we eased away from the border crossing on a minibus. Almost immediately we pulled onto a beautifully paved, two-lane road marked with yellow and white lines. Even in the middle of the dusty, remote Atacama desert, the Chileans have managed to create amazing roads. And that is a major difference between the poorest and the richest countries in Latinamerica.
Bolivia was THE country for viewing some beautifully unique and otherworldly scenery. In the south, Brad and I spent 2 nights in Tupiza, a town with the feeling you get in rural Oregon, especially in places like Grants Pass. The streets were fronted with stores that could have been saloons and the leisurely pace was welcome, perfectly suited to sidling around the town´s plazas. Surrounding Tupiza on all sides are rainbow colored rocky hills cut with valleys and a small river. The scenery reminded me of the North American southwest, deserty and with a strong sunshine that can turn rapidly to dry lightning and thunder. From Tupiza, Brad and I worked on booking a tour to see the remote sections of southwestern Bolivia and ending at the Chilean border. But we had no luck finding other travellers who wanted to do the same tour and we were forced to take a bus north to Uyuni, a town made up mostly of tour agencies just waiting to provide us with our desired itinerary. The trouble with Uyuni is that with over 60 tour agencies, none of which have stellar reputations, we were thrown into the fray of deciding which tour operators were telling us the truth about their exceptional service and which ones were going to send us out onto the salar with drivers who drink or decide to somehow shirk their responsibilities as guides. Luckily, on our first outing to weed through the masses, we ran into our 4 friends from the NW who had just, that minute, returned from the tour and highly recommended their tour operator. Problem solved! We booked with Kantuta tours leaving on Sunday.
There were 6 of us and the driver who loaded into the Toyota "cuatro por cuatro" on the first day of the tour. Brad and me, Guido (Italian), Susana (Bolivian), Morgan (North Carolinian), Daniel (Chilean) and Adalit, our great driver who provided us with good information and super positive energy throughout the trip. We visited the cementerio de trenes (train cemetary) first where we got to climb around on trains that were used back in 1825 and which are now just rusting slowly into the desert sand. Then it was off to the real highlight, the Salar de Uyuni by way of a small village whose existance is determined by collecting mounds of salt from the salt flats and processing, packaging, and selling it (even though we noticed that the salt we used at all of the meals on the salt flats tour was imported from Chile....). Adalit drove us expertly past the mounds of salt and onto the white expanse of salt that extends out in all directions seemingly without boundaries or limits. The farther we drove away from Uyuni, the whiter the salt got and the sun reflected blindingly back at us from the ground. The Salar de Uyuni is the largest salt flat in the world stretching 4,085 square miles. Also, it is really high above sea level at 3,656 meters and impressively it only varies in altitude at most by 1 meter across the entire area! That makes the salar a perfect place to goof around with a camera and create artistic perspective shots that depict tiny people standing on big people´s shoulders or tiny people karateing huge plastic dinosaurs! If you care to peek at the results of our hours long salt flats photography session you can find the best shots on our photo page! You will see we got very excited about jumping too. Also, there was an island (Intiwasi) made of coral in the middle of the salt flat that is home to thousands of giant cacti that have been around for many hundreds of years (there may be a picture of an Andean Emu that lives with the cacti on that island...who knew there was such a thing as an Andean Emu??).
The first night was spent at the edge of the Salar in a salt hotel, literally a building made of salt blocks harvested from the Salar. The ground was covered with a thick layer of loose salt crystals and the beds were supported by huge chunks of salt as well. It was a nice idea but we stayed at a non-salt hostel the next night that was, in reality, much nicer. On the second day of the tour, Adalit drove us to sight after sight of amazing scenery, each one differing starkly from the previous. We saw volcanos, deserty landscapes with Salvador Daliesque rocks, lagunas that changed colors from bright green to white to pink to blue depending on their mineral content, flocks of pink flamengos inhabiting the lagunas, and expanses of desert that ended in rainbow colored volcanic ridges. Through all of this, the roads were created in the moment by the drivers and we bumped along in our trusty Jeep oohing and ahhing and the incredible, surrealistic scenes.
The final night at the hotel next to the Laguna Colorada, a red lake teeming with flamengos, was full of merriment and I didn´t sleep much due to several Argentine rugby players and other partyers who decided that singing was better than sleep and the party continued well into the night before we woke up at 4:30am, primetime for geyser viewing. The high altitude geyser field is a free-for-all for tourists with no safety precautions surrounding the boiling pots of claylike mud that bubble and spurt randomly high into the air. Sulfery steam shot from vents in the ground and with the rising sun and the colorful volcanic mineral pools, the whole scene was wild and otherworldly. I could have spent much more time there but the next stop was a hot springs pool where Brad and I bathed in the healing steamy water before a lovely breakfast catered to us beside a large laguna surrounded by volcanos. And finally, we reached Laguna Verde, a white rimmed greenish lake, complete with flamingos, and a volcano guardian called Licancabur which stradles the Bolivian Chilean border. We departed from our tour there at the remote border crossing marking the edge of the Bolivian altiplano and as we entered Chile, we headed straight downhill (on that lovely paved road) all the way to the Atacama desert and the little touristy town of San Pedro de Atacama. We have plans to stay in San Pedro for Christmas tomorrow and to leave the next day probably for Calama or Antofagasta to commence our tour of Chile! It is very exciting to be in San Pedro because I have been here before and I am having a great time remembering what I did during that time. I found the hostel where I stayed and the benches in the beautiful plaza where I spent time reading and writing journal entries. This time in San Pedro we are camping. Brad took me out to a delicious dinner of salmon and steak the other night (probably the best food we´ve had on this trip). And tomorrow, on Christmas, I think we will rent bikes to cruise around to the valleys around town.
I´m thinking about everyone back home today on Christmas eve. I feel sad that I will be missing our traditional Swedish dinner because I´m sure it will be just as delicious and exciting as ever! But I also feel very lucky to be in this beautiful desert town with perfect, dry, hot, sunny weather for the holidays. I love and miss you all very much. Merry Christmas!
Love,
Anika
Bolivia was THE country for viewing some beautifully unique and otherworldly scenery. In the south, Brad and I spent 2 nights in Tupiza, a town with the feeling you get in rural Oregon, especially in places like Grants Pass. The streets were fronted with stores that could have been saloons and the leisurely pace was welcome, perfectly suited to sidling around the town´s plazas. Surrounding Tupiza on all sides are rainbow colored rocky hills cut with valleys and a small river. The scenery reminded me of the North American southwest, deserty and with a strong sunshine that can turn rapidly to dry lightning and thunder. From Tupiza, Brad and I worked on booking a tour to see the remote sections of southwestern Bolivia and ending at the Chilean border. But we had no luck finding other travellers who wanted to do the same tour and we were forced to take a bus north to Uyuni, a town made up mostly of tour agencies just waiting to provide us with our desired itinerary. The trouble with Uyuni is that with over 60 tour agencies, none of which have stellar reputations, we were thrown into the fray of deciding which tour operators were telling us the truth about their exceptional service and which ones were going to send us out onto the salar with drivers who drink or decide to somehow shirk their responsibilities as guides. Luckily, on our first outing to weed through the masses, we ran into our 4 friends from the NW who had just, that minute, returned from the tour and highly recommended their tour operator. Problem solved! We booked with Kantuta tours leaving on Sunday.
There were 6 of us and the driver who loaded into the Toyota "cuatro por cuatro" on the first day of the tour. Brad and me, Guido (Italian), Susana (Bolivian), Morgan (North Carolinian), Daniel (Chilean) and Adalit, our great driver who provided us with good information and super positive energy throughout the trip. We visited the cementerio de trenes (train cemetary) first where we got to climb around on trains that were used back in 1825 and which are now just rusting slowly into the desert sand. Then it was off to the real highlight, the Salar de Uyuni by way of a small village whose existance is determined by collecting mounds of salt from the salt flats and processing, packaging, and selling it (even though we noticed that the salt we used at all of the meals on the salt flats tour was imported from Chile....). Adalit drove us expertly past the mounds of salt and onto the white expanse of salt that extends out in all directions seemingly without boundaries or limits. The farther we drove away from Uyuni, the whiter the salt got and the sun reflected blindingly back at us from the ground. The Salar de Uyuni is the largest salt flat in the world stretching 4,085 square miles. Also, it is really high above sea level at 3,656 meters and impressively it only varies in altitude at most by 1 meter across the entire area! That makes the salar a perfect place to goof around with a camera and create artistic perspective shots that depict tiny people standing on big people´s shoulders or tiny people karateing huge plastic dinosaurs! If you care to peek at the results of our hours long salt flats photography session you can find the best shots on our photo page! You will see we got very excited about jumping too. Also, there was an island (Intiwasi) made of coral in the middle of the salt flat that is home to thousands of giant cacti that have been around for many hundreds of years (there may be a picture of an Andean Emu that lives with the cacti on that island...who knew there was such a thing as an Andean Emu??).
The first night was spent at the edge of the Salar in a salt hotel, literally a building made of salt blocks harvested from the Salar. The ground was covered with a thick layer of loose salt crystals and the beds were supported by huge chunks of salt as well. It was a nice idea but we stayed at a non-salt hostel the next night that was, in reality, much nicer. On the second day of the tour, Adalit drove us to sight after sight of amazing scenery, each one differing starkly from the previous. We saw volcanos, deserty landscapes with Salvador Daliesque rocks, lagunas that changed colors from bright green to white to pink to blue depending on their mineral content, flocks of pink flamengos inhabiting the lagunas, and expanses of desert that ended in rainbow colored volcanic ridges. Through all of this, the roads were created in the moment by the drivers and we bumped along in our trusty Jeep oohing and ahhing and the incredible, surrealistic scenes.
The final night at the hotel next to the Laguna Colorada, a red lake teeming with flamengos, was full of merriment and I didn´t sleep much due to several Argentine rugby players and other partyers who decided that singing was better than sleep and the party continued well into the night before we woke up at 4:30am, primetime for geyser viewing. The high altitude geyser field is a free-for-all for tourists with no safety precautions surrounding the boiling pots of claylike mud that bubble and spurt randomly high into the air. Sulfery steam shot from vents in the ground and with the rising sun and the colorful volcanic mineral pools, the whole scene was wild and otherworldly. I could have spent much more time there but the next stop was a hot springs pool where Brad and I bathed in the healing steamy water before a lovely breakfast catered to us beside a large laguna surrounded by volcanos. And finally, we reached Laguna Verde, a white rimmed greenish lake, complete with flamingos, and a volcano guardian called Licancabur which stradles the Bolivian Chilean border. We departed from our tour there at the remote border crossing marking the edge of the Bolivian altiplano and as we entered Chile, we headed straight downhill (on that lovely paved road) all the way to the Atacama desert and the little touristy town of San Pedro de Atacama. We have plans to stay in San Pedro for Christmas tomorrow and to leave the next day probably for Calama or Antofagasta to commence our tour of Chile! It is very exciting to be in San Pedro because I have been here before and I am having a great time remembering what I did during that time. I found the hostel where I stayed and the benches in the beautiful plaza where I spent time reading and writing journal entries. This time in San Pedro we are camping. Brad took me out to a delicious dinner of salmon and steak the other night (probably the best food we´ve had on this trip). And tomorrow, on Christmas, I think we will rent bikes to cruise around to the valleys around town.
I´m thinking about everyone back home today on Christmas eve. I feel sad that I will be missing our traditional Swedish dinner because I´m sure it will be just as delicious and exciting as ever! But I also feel very lucky to be in this beautiful desert town with perfect, dry, hot, sunny weather for the holidays. I love and miss you all very much. Merry Christmas!
Love,
Anika
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
The Heart of Darkness
I had been looking forward to our arrival in Potosi and a tour of their historic mines. The mines captured my imagination and I read anything I could find relating to their history. Cerro Rico, the rich mountain, looms directly over Potosi, its excavation ravaged face a reminder that the town below would not exist at all except for the minerals hidden deep in its bowels.
The Spanish began mining the mountain in 1546, and it has been mined continuously for the following 463 years. The quality silver ore was depleted in the first 250 years of mining. During this time the mountain was producing more than half the world’s silver. Potosi grew to a city of over 200,000 people, larger than London or Paris. In this period, the Spanish removed 45,000 tons of silver from the ´rich mountain´. At today’s price of $17.41 per ounce, Spain’s total take was $25,070,400,000 in today’s dollars price for which some colonialists willing sold their humanity. An estimated 8 million forced labors died working the mines, most of them indigenous Americans. 8 millions lives, painfully lived and silently lost to satiate man’s endless desire for shiny metals.
A tour of the mines today provides a profound lesson in colonialism’s lasting impact in South America. Indigenous peoples, speaking their native Quechua, today chose to enter the same mines that were the tombs and torment of their ancestors. The rich veins of silver are gone and can be seen adorning Catholic churches throughout Europe. Modern miners remove an inferior ore, containing mainly zinc and lead, with trace amounts of silver. Potosi at 4090 meters (13,400 feet) has no agriculture and little other industry. The miners work in small groups each with their own claim, and each getting paid based on the quality and quantity of ore produced. They choose to work in the mines, and being independent they choose how many days to work and how many hours each day. But choice is a function of opportunity and in Potosi, the poorest district in Bolivia, South America’s poorest country there is little to choose between. 5000 men, and only men, work the mines. In any given year 25 men die from accidents inside the mines; cave ins, explosions, or toxic gases. That is one half percent, or one in every 200.
I met a man on the third level of the mine who had been working the mine for 30 years, rolling the dice each year. On the fourth level I met a 15 year old boy who had been working the mines for 2 years. He was shirtless in the stifling heat and worked with a hand chisel at a vein of ore. We gave him a gift which consisted of a stick of dynamite, detonator, fuse, and ammonium nitrate. No toy fireworks for this boy whose childhood was over years ago. I hope he avoids the myriad dangers that lie within that mountain, however if he comes out of the mines safely year after year he will take something equally as deadly with him. The mountain never leaves the miners, they carry it with them, particles of the Cerro Rico lodged in their lungs. They start young and die young usually around 40, main of silicosis pneumonia. The miners of Potosi knowingly sacrifice their bodies to wrest these minerals from the mountain. The Spaniards forced their ancestors to unwillingly make the same sacrifice. My mind wants there to be a difference, to believe that that things must have changed drastically for the better after so many years. However faced with the vivid reality, the difference it not enough.
The Mountain that Eats People
Two nights ago we arrived in Potosi, Bolivia, the highest city in the world. I am not quite sure what designations a city must have to be a city because I am certain there must be higher settlements somewhere in Nepal or elsewhere but regardless, Potosi is a hilly, windy, bustling mining city with a fascinating history. It was founded in 1546 by the Spanish because they had discovered silver in the veins of Cerro Rico, the reddish mountain that lies just beyond the boundaries of Potosi. Cerro Rico towers over the city in more ways than just being the dominant land feature of the 4,060 meter landscape. Although you can hardly lose sight of it while you walk through the town, the most important influence it has on the population of Potosi is that it provides thousands of men with dangerous mining jobs so that they can afford to feed and clothe their families. There are no other industries in this region so Cerro Rico lures many men to it's caves with the promise of a salary from it's mineral rich rocks. For hundreds of years Cerro Rico has been mined beginning with the Spanish who employed indiginous workers as well as imported African slaves to extract the silver that practically sustained the Spanish monarchy. There was so much silver that many workers were required to extract it so Potosi actually became one of the biggest cities in the world in the 1600's, bigger even than Paris and London. But as the 45,000 tons of silver were being extracted from the 150 mines that snake through the mountain, it is rumored that over 8 million lives have been lost. Lacking professional engineers and geologists to consult on how the tunnels are constructed, to be sure there are accidents that happen within the mines but the majority of the miners who have lost their lives have died because they have no protective equpiment to help prevent the inhalation of dust as they work. The life expectancy of the miners is short, about 40 years, and most die of silicosis in their lungs.
Cerro Rico has been continuously mined since the 1500's and the silver has been all but been depleted from it's veins, but the mines are still producing minerals like zinc and lead as well as the occasional silver. These 3 minerals are extracted from the waste rock in nearby factories but there is no further separation and the Bolivians export the 3 mixed together so the value of the product is pretty low. However, generations of men from Potosi have worked and continue to work in the mines, and often children as young as 13 begin their careers in the footsteps of their fathers, grandfathers, and older brothers. Most miners work independently to earn their salaries which amount to between 30 and 50 Bolivianos per day, or about 3 to 5 US dollars after a long 10 hour shift in the mines. The working conditions are extremely harsh, with extreme temperature fluxuations and the presence of toxins in the air that prevent the miners from eating during their shifts. They drink soda and they chew massive amounts of coca leaves to combat not only the difficulties of working at altitude but also to keep them alert as they work. Another important aspect of the miner's work is their belief and worship of the Tio, or the devil. Each mine contains a statue of the Tio where the miners can leave offering of coca leaves, cigarettes, and alcohol to ask for protection during their shifts in the mine. They believe that they are so far underground beneath Cerro Rico that God's power cannot sufice so they reach out to Tio for that protection.
After learning much of the history of Potosi I was quite interested to visit the city and to do one of the available tours to the mines inside of Cerro Rico. I was warned it is not an easy experience and that it is challenging both physically and mentally. The first stop on the tour was to acquire the necessary gear to enter the mines: large pants, a jacket, rubber boots and a hardhat complete with a headlamp powered by a waistbelt battery pack. From there, we stopped at the miner's market to purchase gifts to give to the miners we would meet in the mines. Brad and I bought dynamite, a liter of soda and some coca leaves to distribute. Since the miners work for themselves the gifts do help their individual chances for a successful workday. As we rode in the bus to the mine, it was hard to shake the thought that I had a whole stick of dynamite complete with fuse resting in my lap. We entered Mina Candalaria, which our guide, Efra, informed us was one of the oldest mines on Cerro Rico, dating back to when the Spanish mined the mountain. The walls were reinforced with rock that had been put in place hundreds of years ago. For 1.5 hours we toured the tunnels, walking down narrow passageways that were fixed with rails on which the hand powered mine carts could ride, full of mostly waste materials. We descended through openings just big enough to pass through on our hands and knees and we shimmied down rickety ladders to the 4th and last level in the mine. At each turn we met miners and we watched them work, shoveling waste materials, chipping away at the rocks with hand tools, separating potential minerals from walls, and creating 20 inch long cylindrical holes where at the end of the day, they would place dynamite and blast a new hole to hopefully follow or expose a lucrative mineral vein. Our guide facilitated conversations, often in Quechua, and we learned about several miners but their stories were mostly the same - they are in their mid 20's, they started working in the mines as young teenagers, their fathers and brothers all work nearby in the same mine, they are glad to be almost done with their 10 hour shift. We distributed our gifts, Brad got to try his hand at using a hammer, we shook hands with the miners and moved on. It was very hot inside of the mine especially at the 4th level. The dust was thick in the air and the chemical smells made me feel quite lightheaded. Even though I was using a t-shirt to cover my nose and mouth I found it was a chore to breath. After less than 2 hours inside the mine, the blue sky and fresh air outside were overwhelmingly blissful. It made me so grateful that I never have to go inside of the mine again and it was so hard to imagine how 5,000 brave men work day after day in those appallaing underground conditions chipping away at rocks and exploding holes into the base of that mountain. Our guide told us that you can visit Potosi, but unless you visit the mines, you cannot possibly understand the culture of the city. They say that Cerro Rico is the mountain that eats people because so many die there, but the miners also say that the people eat the mountain because it sustains them so much in life...a vicious cycle.
We are taking a relaxed day today before going south to Tupiza in the morning. I think Brad wrote a post about Potosi also so we'll see if we had different things to say about the experience in the mines! More pictures should be up now from way back at Machu Picchu. Enjoy!
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