Copiapololo

I went in search of flowers.

I found them. And more.

I arrived in Copiapó early morning Tuesday September 6th. I lugged my backpack through the bus terminal, bleary-eyed after spending the night on the road. The adrenaline rush of not knowing where I was going or what might happen of the night before had worn off. I was tired. Just wanted a place to lay my head.

As I wandered the foggy mid-morning streets of Copiapó, I started to think myself crazy for coming to this strange city in Northern Chile with no one I knew, no map, no destination.

Why was I here again? The farm I had finally found to host me was in La Serena. I decided that I would like to get down to La Serena sooner rather than later. I am living in Chile with limited funds, and while working on the farm my room and board would be free (this country is more expensive than I thought it would be, less expensive than the US, more expensive than Argentina). I decided I would stay a few short (hopefully cheap) days in Copiapó and then be on my merry way, taking a bus back down to La Serena.

Great. Now to find a place to rest for the night... On a whim I had logged onto couch surfing the night I left Santiago. I had never used the website before, but friends had recommended it to me as a cheap way to travel. ¨Where do you want to go?¨ said the text box. Copiapó, Chile. I wrote quick messages to the first two hosts who popped up. I didn´t figure either would respond or have availability with such short notice. I figured I would have to find a hostel once I got there.

And there I was. I wandered into the first hostel I came across but was unhappy with the price. I decided to get online and research my options. A nice man walked me to el centro, helped me find a map of the city, and directed me to the nearest internet cafe. To my surprise I found a message in my inbox from one of the couch surfing hosts. His name was Nico.

I ended up spending a full week in Copiapó. My family consisted of 3 men and 1 dog. Alejandro (in his 40s or so) and Alvaro and Nico, both 23, both high school teachers. Alvaro teaches History. Nico teaches Literature. All 3 men have children who they only get to see every once in a while. Los profes (Alvaro and Nico) had just moved into the house a few days before I arrived. And the best looking of them all is the lovely Florencia.

(we had a less lovely neighbor dog).

I lived with them in their little bachelor pad off a dirt road on the southern edge of Copiapó.

                                
The centerpiece of the living area is their sound system.

Music was a large part of my everyday life while living with these guys. Alejandro cannot get enough Pink Floyd. They like to relax to the tunes of Queen or Red Hot Chili Peppers after a long day at work. And Nico learned English by memorizing the lyrics to Michael Jackson songs. They introduced me to Chilean groups, and I made them write a list of bands I need to remember to check out before I left.

Loca by Chico Trujillo is the song that makes me dance the most right now. It´s the melody that is leaking out of the houses into the streets as the people open their windows to welcome the warm spring breeze. I catch snippets of Loca as I walk to the grocery store, all the young people in the clubs throw their hands in the air when this song is played, and my taxi driver bobs his head to it.





Our neighbor would always play his radio loud and I would listen to the familiar trumpets of Chico Trujillo through the open door while I washed dishes.

I washed many a dish in that house. Since couch surfing is free it is always a nice gesture if the surfer helps clean the house or pays for the food or takes out the garbage. It´s couch surfing etiquette.

I would wake up in the mornings after the guys had left for work and wash the dishes from breakfast and the night before, I would hang their clothes on the line if a wash had been done, and I would walk to the almacen (little grocery store) down the road and buy a few things that we lacked. Sometimes I felt like a housewife which is a role I have never played before in my life. It was good for a week.

I am no cook however. Alvaro and Nico would prepare our meals, so I ate like a chilean bachelor/college kid. A good cultural experience. It´s important for me to know how to buy and eat food here on a budget. One night Nico taught me how to make little homemade pizzas that are DELICIOUS.

And one night we just ordered Sushi. Which Alvaro ate with enthusiasm.

They took me on various adventures around the city and beyond.

I played paintball with Nico and some of his students

Rode with Alvaro on his moto to climb the sand dunes

Found my way around el centro and read Pablo Neruda in the plaza

I was there to taste all that Copiapó had to offer.

I ate the best ice cream I have had so far in Chile

(a scoop of swiss chocolate and a scoop of dulce de leche with nuts),

danced the night away at the local casino,

and attempted to sing in spanish at a karaoke bar.

One of my favorite excursions was climbing los cerros (the hills) with Nico. Copiapó lies in a valley surrounded by dry desert hills. Our street dead-ended into a little rocky path up one of the many dusty slopes. So one morning we decided to take a walk, we didn´t bring anything, just my camera. We ended up going on a 3 hour hike. We climbed the nearest and highest hill. Well, I climbed. Nico flew. 

We could see all of Copiapó from up there.

I decided to spend more time in Copiapó when Nico invited me to spend the weekend at his friends´ beach house, an invitation that should not be turned down. We went with Mario and Adriana (both physical education teachers at Nico´s high school), their 10 year old daughter Maite, and their beagle puppy Teo. We drove for an hour through the desert land to Caldera, a darling little beach town where Mario and Adriana own a darling little house.

Our first excursion on the morning after our arrival was the only necessary errand for the weekend: a trip to the port to buy fresh fish.

Nico and Mario carefully selected the best catch.

They presented their chosen fish to the man at the stand WHO WAS WEARING A COLTS HAT.

I squealed! My first sign of Indiana here in a country on the other side of the globe. I excitedly yelled up to the man that he was wearing the hat of mi equipo de fútbol americano (my football team).
He had no clue who the Colts were.
No knowledge of the glory of the team he was representing.
No knowledge of the people in a state far away who proudly sport the same shades of blue and white.
And I didn´t get the opportunity to inform him. He was preoccupied with cutting the head off of the fish we ate for lunch.

I helped Adriana prepare the fish as soon as we breezed through the door. We filled ourselves with treasures from the sea that afternoon. The fish from the port, shrimp and cheese empanadas, crab and cheese empanadas, and even live oysters (ostiones vivos).

Maite and I searched the rocks later for the little creatures that had tasted so good.

It was an overcast and windy day at the beach. We walked the coarse shoreline and watched the waves crash against the sculpted cliffs of Bahía Inglesa.

We scrambled up as many of the rocky outcroppings as we could without risking the life of little Teo, who thought his legs were as long as ours.

Teo is of the firm belief that he deserves to go everywhere we go.

We returned from the beach exhausted and still satisfied by our glorious seafood feast of the afternoon. Drinks and card games were in order. I taught them all how to play Speed. Maite reigned as champion for the weekend.

We drove home to Copiapó that night. Mario drove that is. The rest of us slept. Maite, Nico, Teo, and I squished comfortably together in the back seat. Sandy, content, with the smell of the sea in our hair/fur. I realized then how thankful I was. There in the back seat of the car. With my head on Nico´s shoulder and Maite´s head on mine, Teo sharing our laps. I opened my eyes for a minute in the darkness just to see if it was real. I was in Indiana three weeks ago, how on earth did I end up here?

Copiapó. What had started as a name I couldn´t pronounce on a bus ticket without a plan had become a home for me. I realized how comfortable I felt with the people of this desert city in Northern Chile, with the landscape, with the food, with the dogs, with this dusty road.

I wandered the hills near the house on the afternoon of the day before I left. I had said my goodbyes to Mario, Adriana, Maite, and Teo. Alvaro and Nico were at work. And I felt like walking, reflecting, breathing fresh air. The mission of witnessing a desert busting with blooms far from my mind. The goal that brought me here. I could have left the next day feeling like my mission was completed, without seeing a single flower. But Copiapó is full of surprises.

Job?

Valparaiso, Chile

I have a job! And it might involve seeing palm trees every once in a while! 

One of the farmers I emailed up North responded! With a no. Hendrik doesn't have a place for me on his farm right now, but he sent me the contact information for one of his friends, Laura, who lives on a farm nearby. She would probably be able to receive me (this was a few days ago). I thanked him and emailed her right away. No response. 

I decided to call. I was using the house phone, and unfortunately calling from landline to cell phone in a different region in Chile seems to be a complex process. I called Tio Juan's son, Juan, to help me. And he did. He was able to get ahold of Laura from his cell phone, give her my number, and FINALLY I received her call last night (on MY South American cell phone). 

She lives in La Serena, on the coast. 

She spoke spanish slowly for me, and 

she seems very eager to receive me! 

She said I can come to her farm in La 

Serena whenever is best for me, just to 

call her the day before. I asked how 

long she would be needing my help. 

As long as I would like to stay would 

be fine, she said. Depends on how I 

like it there. I will be staying with her 

and her daughter.

The farm is located just across town 

from the beach.

I don't know what my duties will 

include yet. But I am looking

forward to living on a farm again.

I leave tonight on a bus for Copiapo.

Just me and my backpack.

I will arrive in the city early Tuesday

morning. I don't have a place to stay yet.

I'm just planning on spending a few 

days up there. A few days to explore the North

on my own and FIND SOME FLOWERS before I take a bus

                                back down to La Serena. 

After much consideration, I will be leaving my computer here at tio Juan's house, along with my luggage. 

It's heavy. I don't want it to be stolen or damaged. I actually look forward to being free of it. When I don't have a computer to come back to each night, I spend more time getting to know people and places. 

I look forward to this journey.

I am not the first to leave tio Juan's house this week. 

Carolina's son back in Peru is very sick. They are unsure of his illness, but the symptoms are serious. Carolina is from the jungles of Peru, la selva, where quality medical attention is hard to come by. She's on her way to take care of him now. It will take her multiple bus rides and hours of walking to get home. Since the trip is so costly, she will be spending at least a few months in Peru. We miss her already. Her laughter filled the hollows of this house.

She sat here on my bed a few nights ago and helped me pick out my outfit for a birthday party I was attending. When I showed her the little bag of earrings we had to choose from, she was astonished. She neatly laid them on the bed pair by pair. She carefully counted them, organized them by size, and fixed all those that were broken. Apparently I have 35 pairs of earrings. 

I wanted to let her choose a pair before she left, but Carolina left unexpectedly while I was out. I didn't get a chance to say goodbye. I'm thinking of her now and wishing her and her son the very best.

That's the update from here. I leave on a bus in a few hours and I still need to pack. Goodbye Santiago!

Cherry Blossoms

My first week in Chile. A week of fresh seafood, cumbia rhythms, and cherry blossoms. I have been able to see and do and eat so much here already that I could go home tomorrow filled to bursting with Chilean goodness.

But I'm not planning on it. 

Today was a beautiful day here in the city. The last three days in fact have been no-coat blue-sky days. A wonderful way to welcome September.

September is an important month here. Not only is it the beginning of spring, but September 18th is Chile's Independence Day--las fiestas patrias. From what I've heard it's the largest celebration of the year throughout the whole country. And it is not just a one night affair. The kids are granted an entire week off school to honor the holiday.

I will be up North for the revelry. The desert country. That's the plan.

Here's where I am for those who need a visual.




Yes. I am way down here.

Chile, as you can see, is a long country. It spans a wide range of latitudes, so it consists of climates and landscapes of all types. From the deserts of the North to the glaciers of the South. I am in Santiago now. Right in the middle. Probably about where that arrow is pointing. The capital city, built just west of the Andes Mountains (I get to see them every day!) and about an hour's drive from the sea.


So. The plan. Well, it's less of a plan and more of a bus ticket.

Above that arrow is mostly desert. The Atacama desert. The driest desert in the world, says google. And once a year, depending on the rain fall, for a few weeks, it blooms. That's why I'm getting on a bus Monday to Copiapo--a mining city up North. And that's why I will be somewhere in that region during las fiestas patrias. I'm not going to miss a flowering desert.

Unfortunately, as you can imagine, there are just a handful of organic farms on my WWOOF list that are located in the northern region. I've sent emails to this handful with little luck. I realize that internet might not be easily accessible, so I may try contacting by phone. My WWOOF list includes phone numbers for most farmers, but my spanish is much better in emails than on the phone. So, as of now, I am unsure if I will have a place/places to stay while I explore the North. I think I'll find something... Right now I just know that I plan on spending my September in the desert country.

I have the next few days to appreciate the blooms of Santiago.

Cherry trees are bursting into flowers all over the city, and I found these particularly beautiful blossoms atop cerro San Cristobal, an abrupt hill in the middle of the flat, zipping metropolis.

I paid 

about 4 USD 

(1800 pesos) 

to take a funicular 

to the top. 

And the view 

was worth my 

4 bucks.

From every

direction.

The building with the yellow top I am told is the tallest building in South America. Or it will be! It's not finished yet. I use that building as a reference point. I can see it from tio Juan's house. And always the Andes Mountains rest steady and strong in the background--la cordillera as they say here (the mountain chain). It is always there, but somehow, it's never the same. Which is why it usually causes me to gasp.

Here is la cordillera as I turned around on my walk up the hill to tio Juan's house at sunset time.

And here is la cordillera from the site of a house tio Juan is designing for his friend Pedro.

Depending on the snow and the clouds and the light, the mountains can be almost any color you can imagine. And they are M A S S I V E. They are the presence of God here. Something BIGGER and unfathomable. 

I think los santiaguinos would have a hard time living in Indiana.

Pedro's house will sit on the side of a mountain that overlooks all of Santiago and la cordillera. It will be integrated into the landscape as much as possible, using boulders already there as support. I tagged along as tio Juan and Pedro discussed how to best design the house tucked into the hillside, how to wind the entranceway around the rocks and uneven terrain...

and completing the structure with an open-faced terrace where Pedro will be able to sit with his wife and three kids to soak in the view.

Just like tio Juan, Pedro will have all of Santiago out his back steps. Only a little farther away.

Santiago has been wonderfully accessible to me, welcoming me to Chile with open arms. I feel at ease among the shadows of the high rises and the sunbeams of the plazas. I have a metro card (called a BIP!), I am familiar with the major landmarks, and I can navigate my way through the streets of downtown. I come home to warm food every night. A warm family. A warm bed.

I'm excited to travel this country. But I realize my journey may be colder and lonelier than I have found Santiago to be. So I bought a friend.

I sat in this little hidden grotto, among the cherry blossoms atop San Cristobal, and I read aloud the words of Pablo Neruda The pride of all of Chile. The most acclaimed poet of South America. 

His words will keep me company as I travel his country. I don't understand all of them, but I love the sound of them. The rhythm. Just the way the words roll off my tongue soothes me, thrills me, moves me. Neruda wrote about all aspects of his beloved country. I'll read his poetry on the flowers of the desert as I depart Monday for the dry land. Tonight I smile to speak his words concerning cherry blossoms.

Quiero hacer contigo

lo que la primavera hace con los cerezos.

I'm here!

I made it. I'm alive. And all is well.

Except for all the people yapping away in Spanish at the tables beside me, I could easily be in downtown Indianapolis right now in say... November. It's chilly (no pun intended). I leave the house everyday in my hat, scarf, and coat, and I wish I'd brought gloves.

Look familiar? I am sitting in this Starbucks that serves my favorite little cake balls listening to one of my favorite songs from the movie Garden State play over the loud speakers while emailing Chilean organic farmers. Still working out where I will be in the near future. I think I'm in Chile? Right?











I know this does not look like one of the slightly beige, very slightly distinct houses that line Brixton Lane back home in Fishers.

This is tio Juan's house. He lives here with his daughter Claudia and his in-house help, Carolina. It is my home for now, probably for the next week, and it will be my home base here in Chile. It's located in the hills on the eastern edge of Santiago. I told Mom and Basey on skype that I think it looks like a rich hobbit's house. At 5:30am, when I arrived at this door for the first time, I felt like I was entering a giant white mushroom.

But, no worries family, this is a luxurious mushroom.

So for those of you who were imagining me in some cold field doing back-breaking labor and collapsing in my tent at night, breathe easy. I couldn't have imagined more wonderful accommodations or a more gracious host. I came to Chile expecting to gradually build relationships and trust with strangers who I would eventually be able to call my friends and my Chilean family. It has been a wonderful surprise to find that it is already here for me. Thank you Aunt Norma!

Yes, tio Juan is not actually MY uncle; he is the uncle of my Aunt Norma who is married to Mom's younger brother, my Uncle Chris. A distant connection. But he has opened up his home as if he were my grandpa who I visit every weekend.

Tio Juan is an architect, and he designed this house over 30 years ago. Here he is working on some recent blueprints at the living room table. He is patient with my spanish (other than skyping with my family, I've only spoken Spanish since I sat down on the plane in Miami). We will sit for over an hour at the dinner table each night. I will ask a cultural or political question about Chile or the United States and he will tell me what his opinion is on the topic, with me interrupting every once in a while to ask about the meaning of a word or phrase. Last night as we ate our red jello (which I learned is called jalea), he entertained me with detailed descriptions of all the desserts here in Chile. I understand....most of what he says. I ask as many questions as I can without spoiling the flow of the conversation. I get all of the key concepts. I am learning.



All of the desserts and wonderful meals over which we converse are prepared by my new friend Carolina. She is from Peru. She has worked for tio Juan for 9 months and she has 3 little ones back home. This is her first time outside of Peru, and when she came to Santiago in January it was her first time on a plane. I taught her how to dance merengue this morning.




She will have dinner waiting for us soon. I will go begin my walk back up the hill. I'm glad to be here. I needed a change. And I still do. Changing locations is just the beginning. I love the people and places from which I come that continue to shape me and remain a part of me. I guess I came to Chile as a challenge for myself. To jump into the unfamiliar--a language I don't speak, a land I've never seen, a people I don't know--and to see what I can become from these experiences, to see what I can discover. I want to know more... to feel more... to be more.

For now I have all of Santiago out my back steps. We will see where this leads.