Elisa visits Chile pt. 1: Santiago

I arrived this morning getting back from two weeks of winter vacation, which I chose to spend with Elisa and my family in the sun soaked northern hemisphere. It wasn't easy coming back to the cold Santiago winter, but it helps to remember a time when it was sunny here and my beautiful fiancée came to spend her winter vacation with me in the sun.


December 18 - 28, 2011

Together at last!

     After almost 5 months apart, Elisa and I were able to enjoy spending the holidays together. She arrived on December 18th in time to celebrate Christmas and New Years. It was great to finally be together. Our relationship grew stronger as we built wonderful memories together.

The following is a series of photos with brief commentary. So much happened and unfortunately, I let too much time pass by before sitting down to write this.

Elisa brought me a wonderful gift - a kindle fire! That I have thoroughly enjoyed using. Beyond just practical for reading books, it also allows me to read news online, access my e-mail, and do pretty much anything else I could imagine. I took the kindle on my travels with me, which was a fantastic space saver.

     Elisa's flight was delayed, but I met her at the airport with flowers anyway. A Chilean family was very entertained by my attempts to get her attention while I was on the other side of a glass wall, jumping up and down and waving my flowers to no avail. Finally, when she came out on the other side of customs and I greeted her, the giggling family decided to take pictures of our first embrace. It was pretty funny, and I guess someone else has some great footage.

     One of our first nights, we only had nights and evenings together because I was working all day, in Santiago, we went to my favorite restaurant: El Mesón Nerudiano (Neruda's Big Table . . . sounds better in Spanish). We drank the best pisco sours in the city, ate cordero patagónico (patagonian lamb) and shared a mousse made with port for dessert. Our seafood appetizer and Chilean wine also helped make it a great evening.

The wine selection was out of this world.

     On Wednesday, we went to celebrate Christmas early with my Chilean host family. They were going to be traveling out of the region for Christmas, so we made sure to get the fun in early. They served us a wonderful meal, then we went into the living room to open presents. We brought a potted flower and a bottle of wine for Los Claudios (Claudio and Claudia), a soccer ball for Francisco, a jumping rope for Javiera, and sausages for José Ignacio. It was a great time for all. The night included José Ignacio putting Javiera in a backpack and Elisa having her time almost entirely monopolized by the little Javiera, who had been looking forward to meeting Elisa for three months.

Playing the role of Santa

     On Friday afternoon, we had the time to hike Santa Lucia hill and see the view. It was a beautiful day even though we were pretty tired. We also picked up a gift for Jenny in the gift exchange we had planned for that night.

The view from the top!

     Because most everyone was spending Christmas with their host families on Saturday or Sunday, we decided to do an all ChACE gift exchange that Friday night. We got things kicked off with some cookie frosting and decorating and drank copious amounts of Cola de Mono (Monkey's Tail) a chocolate liquor popular in Chile during Christmas time. Then for our gift exchange, Elisa played game-show host and distributed the gifts so that people had to guess who gave them the gift. In the end, it turned out that Caitlin had drawn my name. She was so sweet as to think of both Elisa an I by buying two copies of Lo Que Mueve Mi Vida for Elisa and I to read in our long distance book club.

     As I previously stated, most everyone spent Christmas with their host families. Elisa and I just walked the almost completely abandoned streets of Santiago. We took the opportunity to wade in a fountain near my apartment.

I bet we won't take many more Christmas photos like this one.

We finished our time in Santiago with an asado with friends on Wednesday. Then it was on to Pichilemu!

Mario y el Día del Padre

El Día del Padre with the Cádiz family.

     For the past few weeks, I have been developing a relationship with a taxi driver I met here in Chile. His name is Mario. We met for the first time one Tuesday afternoon as I was leaving work.
     I was standing outside next to the bus stop for the buses that run by Saint Georges College hoping to catch the C22 and ride it to the Escuela Militar metro stop. Unfortunately, the C22 almost never comes by, and when it does, it is packed to the gills and sometimes impossible to board. Often, a more reliable alternative is to take the C07. Yet, this too has it's faults. The route is extremely indirect and leaves the passenger at the Manquehue metro stop, which is further away from my apartment than Escuela Militar and in the opposite direction. It can often take a full hour to go this route, which is the same time it takes to walk to my apartment from school. Therefore, it is only preferable when it is raining or when one is simply to tired to walk.
     This particular Tuesday afternoon, I had an English/Brazilian guitar lesson exchange and I needed to get home quickly. So, I had to take the gamble on the C22. As I was waiting for a bus that was not guaranteed to come, I saw a taxi go by. It's "LIBRE" light wasn't turned on, meaning that it probably already was carrying a passenger. I thought it was worth a shot anyway and I attempted to flag it down. As predicted, the taxi, already a passenger in cargo, continued on without stopping. A little later, the same situation faced me, and I again made the hand gesture to get the attention of a cab driver who, in all likelihood, already had a client. The driver sped by me, apparently empty; then suddenly, he stopped. I hustled to catch up with the car and, without making a conscious decision, sat in the front passenger seat. That choice, I'm sure of it, made all the difference.
     The driver explained to me that his light wasn't on because he was on his way to work and wasn't expecting to pick up any passengers that far out. He lived behind the hill in Huechuraba and was on his way to work in Las Condes/Providencia. Everywhere I go, it is clear that I am a foreigner, and while it can be frustrating to not feel like I'm blending in, it can be a great conversation starter. The conversation started the way that they all do; I told him about where I was from and what I was doing here. Upon learning that I was a professor, he told me that he and his wife were going to visit his sister in Toronto and that they were trying to learn English. He also asked me about the socio-economic nature of my school. I told him that it was very much an upper class school and, in response to his inquiry as to whether I had gotten to know the common people of Santiago, that my life pretty much revolved around the wealthiest parts of the city. He invited me to come over to his house for dinner sometime and when we arrived at my apartment, we exchanged numbers, shook hands, and I departed the vehicle. Another client jumped in the cab even before I finished saying goodbye.
     It wasn't until I was through the gates of my apartment complex that I realized that I hadn't paid. I ran back out onto the street, but he was gone. Fortunately, we had just exchanged numbers, so I called him right away. We agreed that he would call me when he was near my part of town and I would run the money down to him, but later that night when I received his call, he was already home. Instead, he suggested that he take me home again the next day, after all, he always passed by there at the same time every day, and I would give him the money then. We followed through with our plan and on that second ride with Mario, we made arrangements for him to come pick me up on Sunday and take me to his house for "once", a traditional Chilean pseudo-meal consisting of bread and tea.
     That first Sunday went very well. I met his wife Graciela, and they showed me pictures of their children and grandchildren. They are both 61 and have been married since they were 19. They also showed me pictures of their "campo" in the south of Chile and suggested that I might be able to visit it. They served me kuchen and marraqueta along with my tea. I agreed to help them with English and took a blank CD with me so that I could record myself saying various helpful phrases. Finally, he dropped my off at Saint George's for Sunday evening mass.
     Today, just like in the U.S., was el Día del Padre. This time, I was invited to join them for a full-fledged asado with his eldest son, also named Mario, and the grandchildren (los nietos). He picked me up in his cab around 2:00 with his nieto Cristian and we headed back to his house in Huechuraba. There I met Mario Eduardo, his son, who happend to have in his arms one charming Mr. Mario Antonio.

Los Marios, left to right: Mario del Carmen, Mario Antonio, y Mario Eduardo

     Mario del Carmen was the master of ceremonies, grilling up some cerdo and vacuna. The cerdo was just seasoned with salt, lime and oregano, which turned out to be delicious. The most memorable part of watching the master at the grill was how he got the coals started. After lighting them, he brought out a hair-dryer on an extension cord to supply some extra hot oxygen. When he needed to grab the meat, he left me in-charge of manning the hair-dryer, blasting the coals with hot air, sparks flying. It's definitely the most exciting way I've ever manned a gril.

El maestro del asado

     

     We spent the evening eating and talking about Mario and Graciela's upcoming trip to Canada. Mario   seems pretty convinced that he's going to want to move to Canada. He explained to me that he has the status of "político exonerado" from the days of the dictatorship. It means he receives benefits from the government as a sort of reparation for being fired during the military takeover of Pinochet. He asked me to translate for him a pamphlet labeled "Canada Welcomes Newcomers" to see if his status granted him easier immigration to Canada. I had to inform him that unless he was currently experiencing persecution then it did not. After that, we slipped into a brief English lesson, with which Mario Eduardo was able to help because he uses English for work. By the end of the night, I convinced Mario to break our his accordion.

¡Abuelito, abuelito, me toca a mi!

     The night wrapped up and Mario Eduardo's family left. Mario del Carmen, Graciela and I shared some café and sopapilla before they dropped my off for evening mass at Saint George's. All in all it wasn't a terrible replacement for father's day at home. Though I have to say, Chileans need to quit worrying about having Día del Padre on the same day as the U.S and instead have it in summer time so that the asado is a bit warmer. Either way, I won't forget the warmth of the Cádiz family when they made me feel like I was part of their family on Father's Day.

Abandoning Chronology

This is what that principle saw when it went out my window.

     I've been having trouble updating my blog, as my many faithful readers have noticed, so I've decided to change my philosophy on blogging. Initially, I felt that my blog had to be in perfect chronological order, meaning that I could not blog on anything current until I created entries for the large backlog of activities that took place this summer. So, to make things easier, I'm throwing that principle out the window. I'm abandoning chronology.
     Today, a handful of us are going to Pomaire, Chile to see pottery, eat large empanadas, and experience a festival that I believe is called "La Semana Pomaire" (Pomaire week). I am bringing my camera and promise to tell all, regardless to fact that I have written nothing about my summer travels. It's a beautiful day today; I'm looking forward to this!

Clouds

Today when I woke up, Santiago was cold. I had to close the window and add and extra blanket last night. The grey clouds covering the city served as an appropriate reminder that the summer was over. Last night, Justin left Chile for his home in Durham, preceded by my parents just 24 hours earlier on their way back to Olympia. I have limited time to prepare for teaching English, which starts this week, but I must also use this time to look back. I just finished two and a half months that may be as difficult to retrieve as a dream upon waking. But I will try.

Stay tuned.

Emily Rose goes: Our last day at the school Vida Verde, we had a li...

From Emily's blog.

Emily Rose goes: Our last day at the school Vida Verde, we had a li...: Our last day at the school Vida Verde, we had a little party. The four talented singers of our group rewrote and sang a few songs about our ...

Ecuador: The Final Chapter

Summit of Iliniza Norte

Almost two weeks ago, Sunday, September 25th, we left Ecuador and landed in Chile. Ciaran was again delayed by bizarre airport fiasco but this time only for about twelve hours. We are loving Chile, although our new lifestyle does not allow us to see each other near as often. But before I begin to to write about Chile, I need to relate the events of the final weeks in Ecuador.
August 28 - September 1: We spent a week taking classes and adventuring in the jungle. This might have been my favorite week. We took classes in a complex of cabins on a cliff overlooking the jungle. Highlights include climbing through a small canyon with hands and feet on opposite walls of the canyon, waking up to a cloud filled jungle slowly cleared by sunrise, celebrating two birthdays multiple times, floating down an Amazonian tributary on inner-tubes, playing guitar under the stars, and reading a great book. We've all agreed that our favorite parts of Ecuador were the times when we got out of the city and really got to know the country.

The view from our cabins one beautiful foggy morning

September 9 - 11: We traveled to Puerto Lopez, a small port city best known for being the best place to access Isla de la Plata, otherwise known as the poor man's Galapagos. We took a boat out to it, and on the way got closer to a jumping humpback whale I have ever been and probably ever will be. It was like I was living a Pacific Life commercial. On the island, we saw the blue-footed-boobies do their famous mating dance and snorkeled briefly. Just seconds after entering the water, we saw a massive manta ray pass underneath us, which really took my breath away - more so than the fact that I was breathing through a tube. We also had some quality beach time, which included a ill-advised game of chicken resulting in a chipped molar for me! Fortunately, Ecuadorian dentists are ridiculously cheap - $25 dollars to repair my tooth . . . without insurance.

A great shot of our humpback whale, courtesy of Jenny

September 14 - 19: The Week of Mountains
On Wednesday the 14th, in anticipation of my coming summit attempts of Cotopaxi and Iliniza, Emily, Caitlin and I decided to climb Rucu Pichincha (15,413 ft). There is one point where I decided to take us up some rocks, and I swear I can remember someone saying, "What about this path over here." Being the confident leader that I was, I dismissed the clearly marked path and forged ahead into the rocks. As a result, we wasted and hour and half climbing around on those rocks and lost our chance to summit before nightfall. Just before reaching the TeleferiQo, we resorted to head lamps. The evening of the following day, I made my way down to Hostería PapaGayo to be there for my early morning departure to summit Iliniza the next day,
On Friday the 16th, I woke up early, ate a massive meal of pancakes, and embarked with my guide Juan to summit Iliniza (16,818ft). We left the hostel on time, about 7:30am, and climbed all day. At about 11:00am Juan received a phone call. After I got over being impressed with his cell phone reception on the top of a mountain, I snapped a few photos while I waited for him to finish the call. When he put the phone away, he exclaimed that he hated working for his travel company. While I was waiting for my breakfast at the hostel that morning, I had met a man named Luis from Brazil. He, his wife, and his son were also planning on summiting Iliniza that day and had booked through the same company. When Juan walked into the hostel, he asked us which one of us was ready. I had my bag with me and everything while Luis's family had not yet shown their faces, so Juan explained that there was another guide on his way who would take Luis and his family. Juan and I left happy and on time. It turns out that the other guide did not arrive until 10:00am, three hours after he was supposed to. Luis had gotten impatient and asked the hostel owner, who is in partnership with the guide company, to do something. The hostel owner drove them to the trailhead and returned to the hostel. When their family's guide eventually did show, he was instructed to go up to Iliniza and look for his clients. He drove to the trailhead, looked around, and drove home. Now, the owner of the hostel had called Juan and was asking him to abandon me to go in search of the Brazilian family. Fortunately, Juan decided to take me to the summit, which was awesome. On the way down, we found the family and descended with them aways until another employee of the hostel came and picked them up. Juan was so awesome that he even showed me how to take cheap buses back to Quito saving me a good bit of money. I felt good knowing that he would be my guide again on Cotopaxi.
On Sunday the 18th, Juan and I hiked up to the José Ribas mountain hut to spend the first part of the night before beginning at midnight to summit Cotopaxi (19,347ft). The hut was actually very nice with plenty of hot tea to go around. The weather was miserable when we arrived but cleared up just around sunset which allowed me to take the only photos I have from the trip - my camera would stop working at the higher altitudes. There were two other climbers in the hut that night besides Juan and I. They were a gentleman from Germany and his guide, also from the same company. When he walked in the cabin, Juan told me that the other guy was definitely not going to make it to the summit. Apparently, the stretch from the parking lot to the hut, which took Juan and me about 37 minutes, lasted almost 90 minutres for the other pair. After the sun went down, we gambled on rummy for about an hour then I went to bed. It turns out that sleeping at 15,748 feet in elevation is actually quite difficult. Apart from being freezing cold, it is also difficult to establish a breathing rhythm that makes you feel at ease to the point of falling asleep. In the end, I ended up tossing and turning uncomfortably all night. We woke at Midnight and by 1:00am we had all started our ascent. The first third of the ascent is through rock, gravel and sand. During this section, we made descent progress. Each time that we looked back, the glow of the headlamps belonging to the German and his guide got further and further behind us until eventually we couldn't see them at all. They had turned back before reaching the first glacier.
When we reached the first glacier, we stopped to put on our crampons. I had made the, in retrospect, stupid choice to wear my camelback as my only source of water. When we reached the glacier, the water in my hose had frozen solid. From just before three in the morning until late into our descent, I was without water. We climbed on the ice for a little over an hour by the light of our head lamps until we reached a missive crater. Juan asked me to wait while he walked around for a bit. This was a bit unnerving. It turns out that earlier that week, a crevasse had collapsed creating the crater we saw before us. The crater was now where the best route to the top used to be. One of Juan's guide friends had told him that there was a serviceable route to the summit to be found by exploring the freshly-made crater. After deciding that we were not going to go around the crater, Juan taught me how to belay him by sticking my ice axe in the snow and wrapping the rope around it. Once we had that set up, he descended into the crater in search of our new route. We ended up repeating this process at least six times. When he reached the end of his rope, literally not metaphorically, I would trace his route and set up the makeshift belay again in a new location. Waiting for him to find the route was far more difficult than climbing. No matter how many clothes one wears on a mountain like this, it is the fact that they are exerting the energy to climb that keeps them warm. I was wearing everything that I brought with me, but when I had to wait while Juan explored the nooks and crannies of the infant crater, it was almost unbearable. In all honestly, during this time, when I spent over an hour standing still on the mountain in the middle of the night, my enthusiasm for reaching the top began to wain.
After several misstarts, we eventually started making our way through the crater. As the sun rose, we were still climbing through a landscape that resembled a Dr. Seuss drawing. We were above the clouds and could watch them slowly roll by, briefly dropping in elevation as the passed by the mountain. As we made the final ascent up out of the crater, our visual field opened up to a view of the surrounding mountains easily visible above the clouds. We enjoyed the sunrise that we were supposed to observe from the summit, which was still at least two hours of hiking away. After trying multiple times to get my camera to work, we gave up and decided it was best to hike down. Juan had me lead the way down, which I thought was a little strange, but when I tripped over my crampons while descending into the crater and found myself hanging from my rope and harness, I realized that if he had gone first, I would have fallen thirty feet before he could have done anything about it. Not long after we had left the glacier behind and were bounding down rock and sand, my water finally unfroze with the help of the sun, and I took some well-deserved, gloriously refreshing gulps of water. The German and his guide had left by the time we got back, so after a short snack we packed up and headed down the mountain to make our way back to Quito. Less then a week later, I was on a plane to Chile, looking forward to my next big adventure.

Faithfully climbing on Rucu Pichincha, what good friends I have!

My favorite picture from Iliniza, Juan is looking so stoic.

Cotopaxi from the José Ribas shelter, this is the last time I got my camera to work.

Guagua Pichincha

Saturday, August 27th

     Last Saturday, we decided to go for a little hike to the top of Guagua Pichincha. Pichincha is the volcano makes up the western edge of the Guayllabamba Valley, where Quito resides, and has two peaks: Rucu and Guagua. In Quechua, Rucu means old and Guagua means young. Rucu, the elder, is inactive and the shorter of the two. We chose to summit Guagua, which is taller and has an active crater. This process involved driving around to the other side of the volcano and even a substantial way of the side of the mountain itself. I was disappointed in how far up the mountain we drove, leaving a rather brief summit attempt. We had been hiking for under an hour when we reached an elevation marker that read 4,781 meters. It felt odd, I was standing on the top of a mountain over a thousand feet taller than Mount Rainier and I really didn't feel like I had earned it. It was extremely cloudy around the peak of Guagua Pichincha, which limited visibility significantly, so we took pictures next to the monument and began to mill about, wondering what was in store for us next.

     As we began to explore a bit further along the ridge of the mountain, the wind began to pick up, briefly clearing the clouds from the summit, and I was pleasantly surprised to find that there was another summit, at least 20-25 meters taller than the marker that we first encountered. As we were walked along the ridge to our next goal, we were treated to sweeping views of the mountain slopes around us, though the crater of the volcano remained completely full of soupy clouds. From the true summit, it became clear that we had climbed the highest we could, but we chose to explore a bit further for the fun of it. 

     At the beginning of the day, I was excited about the sense of accomplishment I would feel upon reaching the top, but with our car ride wiping out what would surely have been at least half of our summit experience, that was not the case. I was, however, completely enamored with the scenery at the top, the beauty of which redeemed the climbing experience and, in the end, made for a very satisfying day.

The first picture from the false summit.

Suddenly, a new summit opens before us.

This is much closer to the real summit.

You can see how the how the ridge has cleared up, but the crater is still full of clouds.

     A few weeks ago, I sat down and talked with a mountain climbing agency here in Quito. For prices far more reasonable than in the U.S., they can take me to the top of Cotopaxi, which stands a whopping 19,300 feet above sea level. I will publish more on that as it develops.