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.