tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26221040965450814872024-03-14T02:28:39.051-03:00in the long, skinny countryRachel and Colin are off to the magical world of Narnia... I mean Chile...Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622104096545081487.post-52981215746676548022012-07-20T18:23:00.001-04:002012-07-22T13:01:25.580-04:00Back to where we started fromWell, it's Friday July 20, and we're home.<br />
Home, home. <i>Gringolandía</i> with all the other <i>gringos</i>, ¿<i>cachai</i>?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1K2Nva7LLUocnZGubsqSQJ0BDMKNYAoKVmTnG3TI6rTG4NYudANlvh9uDwP71BN720LyyjXsJ8CGqrboxixwAxBz2KyRv2GyUj4PU0oGbwF2nY0R7QY4sCvASo3gdSKs-9yERMMfizeVo/s1600/DSC02837.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1K2Nva7LLUocnZGubsqSQJ0BDMKNYAoKVmTnG3TI6rTG4NYudANlvh9uDwP71BN720LyyjXsJ8CGqrboxixwAxBz2KyRv2GyUj4PU0oGbwF2nY0R7QY4sCvASo3gdSKs-9yERMMfizeVo/s400/DSC02837.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Home, sweet home. </td></tr>
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Now I can't speak for Rachel, but it's taken less than one week for me to fall back in the swing of things, here in the U.S. I have a car again, so no more transportation. I don't have a Nana, so I get to wash my own clothes. I don't live in a city, so it's a lot less noisy. Finally, We're back in the center of the USA, so no more earthquakes.... (well, not usually.)<br />
<br />
We're no longer international students, so no more Carlos E. Torres. He's one of the very <b><u>best</u></b> people in Chile.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmeJ-kPWnIzqMBSgH33B9cfIlOgKm1bhHkS-fkygU4RpSbp-7KtYUWtiRzCmyhMbO070FPHfyoAjy8wIo2IGRs-HAWMPmG8CAtUT9zAbH3x3gqQi4EJrTU2kF0PI8mfBfKhLGgTqSt_NH-/s1600/DSC_0031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmeJ-kPWnIzqMBSgH33B9cfIlOgKm1bhHkS-fkygU4RpSbp-7KtYUWtiRzCmyhMbO070FPHfyoAjy8wIo2IGRs-HAWMPmG8CAtUT9zAbH3x3gqQi4EJrTU2kF0PI8mfBfKhLGgTqSt_NH-/s400/DSC_0031.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No really, Carlos is the best!</td></tr>
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No more ocean-views from a <i>mirador</i>.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9d1I4dh6Wh3RKgt0QK6TY93rrhuszbv3EJQEW1AqFSV5xgF9a-1yVVr8AC9Ir4z85imps5dvtcC_yQuNUMMHXkWvQdXTk6IGSEqOeLvpI3dU7iWxpudvBvY_3DIZRIRDqQGrxxC2sVjmq/s1600/DSC_0006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9d1I4dh6Wh3RKgt0QK6TY93rrhuszbv3EJQEW1AqFSV5xgF9a-1yVVr8AC9Ir4z85imps5dvtcC_yQuNUMMHXkWvQdXTk6IGSEqOeLvpI3dU7iWxpudvBvY_3DIZRIRDqQGrxxC2sVjmq/s640/DSC_0006.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We (Colin) could look at the sea forever! "It just never ends!"</td></tr>
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<br />
No more Chilean host family.<br />
No more exchange-student friends.<br />
No more a thousand little things that made our four and a half months something we'll treasure forever.<br />
<br />
Maybe that's the reverse culture shock: realizing things that won't be around any longer that you've gotten used to.<br />
<br />
I can tell you this. I'm not saying <i>chao</i> forever. I don't know when, but I will see you again, Chile. While we're on the subject, I half expect Rachel to move down there and become a Chilean, but we'll see.<br />
<br />
At any rate, we've had fun getting to know a wonderfully long and skinny country and we hope you've enjoyed reading about all our mishaps, mistakes, and adventures.<br />
<br />
To all, to each,<br />
<br />
<i>que les vaya la raja</i>.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622104096545081487.post-34698403268293935122012-07-14T10:35:00.004-04:002012-07-14T10:35:42.036-04:00Machu Picchu: the Peruvian adventure<div align="center" style="text-align: center;">
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<div align="center" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18pt;">Our first solo international adventure: Machu
Picchu!</span></div>
<div align="center" style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;">The Adventurers:</span><br />
Colin Dunham and Rachel Davenport<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXa8bkosKR9A_4BYRt4yOzjm-8s8qf14J8WJD3lCBnpL48xaRHtqGASdWw6BXphgxe13pwbqxNtYEkU5Ib80J654bYOy2jP894Gm2RZpAk3BYXjnIX_xI1MF9xAzBNV2vm_0gLyfqlQOpO/s1600/DSC_0002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXa8bkosKR9A_4BYRt4yOzjm-8s8qf14J8WJD3lCBnpL48xaRHtqGASdWw6BXphgxe13pwbqxNtYEkU5Ib80J654bYOy2jP894Gm2RZpAk3BYXjnIX_xI1MF9xAzBNV2vm_0gLyfqlQOpO/s400/DSC_0002.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;">The Plan: </span><br />
1. Don't die.<br />
2. Don't get robbed.<br />
3. Don't get scammed, swindled, conned, or otherwise cheated out of
money. <br />
4. See Machu Picchu.<br />
5. Make it back to the airport in time for our flight.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 16pt;">The Preparation:</span><br />
As far as preparation goes, we bought our plane tickets to Arica (in
northern Chile) a week and a half in advance, and the choosing of the dates
went something like this: <br />
<br />
"How about this one? It's the cheapest."<br />
"Ohh, we have a final exam that day. What about the next?"<br />
"Ok, yeah sure. When should we come back?"<br />
"Well, it's usually cheaper to fly in the middle of the week."<br />
"So Wednesday?"<br />
"I hope that's enough time..."<br />
"Me too. Let's do it."<br />
<br />
And besides that very well-thought-out flight planning, we knew the names of
the towns we'd probably have to take buses to to finally get to Machu Picchu.
Period.<br />
<br />
And so we set off. <br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 16pt;">The Adventure:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt;">Thursday, July 5th</span><br />
Colin and I packed our bags and met at the bus station to catch a bus to
Santiago. This was probably the least scary part of our trip, as it was the
only part we'd done before. After a two hour bus ride and a shuttle to the
airport, we checked our bags and settled in at our gate to wait. I pulled out
my handy-dandy book of brain games (which my awesome mom sent me for my
birthday!), and we got so lost in solving them that we didn't notice that they
changed the gate for our flight and we almost missed it! Other than that, our flights
to Arica were peacefully uneventful.<br />
<br />
When we did finally get to Arica at 11-something at night, a nice man named
Raul told us he was the last taxi left for the night, so we let him take us to
the bus station. He told us all about Arica and lamented the fact that we
didn't have more time to spend exploring it. He gave us his card for the return
trip and dropped us off outside the bus station. And thus began the scariest
part of our trip.<br />
<br />
We stepped out of the taxi and toward the outdoor part of a now-closed bus
station, in the middle of the night, filled with people milling about an
assortment of cars and tiny ticket windows. Before we even stepped through the
gate someone waiting there asked, "Tacna?" (the next step in our
journey, a town just across the border in Peru). So I said yes and he whisked
us off to the nearest little booth and told us to buy the 50 cent tickets they
were selling. I have since come to find out that it was essentially a fee for
using the bus station, called a <i>tiqueta de embarque</i>, but it was
pretty confusing at the time. Then he ran over to what appeared to be his own
car, took our bags and put them in his trunk, and asked for our passports. All
the while, I'm starting to regret following him and wondering if there are any
less-sketchy options available. But I handed him my passport anyway. Colin,
however, was so hesitant to let it out of his possession that his actually fell
on the ground as he was handing it over. Heightening our nervousness, he told
us to "just get in the car" and ran across the dirt parking lot to
another window. Needless to say, Colin and I did not get in the car, but rather
watched nervously as our passports disappeared out of sight. He did eventually
come back with them, and as far as I know our identities have not been stolen,
so I think we survived breaking the cardinal rule of international travel: <b>Never
let your passport out of your sight!</b> And the guy was nice enough, he helped
us figure out what to do as we crossed the border in the middle of the night,
and when we finally got to Tacna at 1am and everything was dark and scary and
foreign, he drove us to a nice, relatively cheap hotel. Yes, you read
correctly... we were so freaked out we opted for a hotel instead of a hostel.
And it was a wonderful choice.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH1Lp7C7XuT8tFfk-fkoozesus4ZoxjPH9sbiPUnFABHUBupZOQbh-xpW0-z-KXHW5UcRpzaDzjTS4KpSEhvypgCDKCH9LLuYKU4x_fizLG2yrnk_mlEDEBSxpiWLiHCqkM1NKj2GDtvsl/s1600/Hotel+in+Tacna.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH1Lp7C7XuT8tFfk-fkoozesus4ZoxjPH9sbiPUnFABHUBupZOQbh-xpW0-z-KXHW5UcRpzaDzjTS4KpSEhvypgCDKCH9LLuYKU4x_fizLG2yrnk_mlEDEBSxpiWLiHCqkM1NKj2GDtvsl/s400/Hotel+in+Tacna.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In our safe, warm, cozy hotel room.</td></tr>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt;">Friday, July 6th</span><br />
We woke up bright and early Friday morning to take what would be
(unbeknownst to us) our last hot showers for quite a while. Then we proceeded
to wolf down our free hot breakfast since we had forgotten to eat dinner in the
confusion of the night before. We took a taxi back to the bus station (which
was very slightly less intimidating in daylight), and bought bus tickets from
the first guy who yelled "Arequipa!" and gave us a "reduced"
price. Still convinced we were going to be robbed, Colin ventured one picture
as we waited in the bus station.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL4FJv47TEXkNK4P7m15KV4vahaNNOq2G41cCMhfgVA5QXGwqKfDtkcstIlWZnGIXeY6zxL46_fzmABum7Uu2Ke5FnA4AQhRiqCp5yoV3LyatKb_bmxDa43APWinVpTsNHYHbgeHOV7r9e/s1600/Tacna+bus+station.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL4FJv47TEXkNK4P7m15KV4vahaNNOq2G41cCMhfgVA5QXGwqKfDtkcstIlWZnGIXeY6zxL46_fzmABum7Uu2Ke5FnA4AQhRiqCp5yoV3LyatKb_bmxDa43APWinVpTsNHYHbgeHOV7r9e/s640/Tacna+bus+station.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tacna bus station</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
On our first double-decker bus, we sat in the front row on the top floor:
right in front of a giant windshield. We were excited to get to watch the
south-Peruvian landscape go by on our seven-hour journey. This is what we saw:<br />
<br />
Sand, sand, and more sand.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPCFTbeTGKIDA4w3pkdvBF62VMA2_6hbwcHTG-Tx9bxZX5w1WKt3rY-Vm_lh-Fq0a1NdPDNX9zHX4IvP6BwsWapB9T4IphgiqZXykIk3-UiRC3JwyhWse_oHryXcvPOK0cdProjJ_imsQj/s1600/Tacna+to+Arequipa+%284%29.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPCFTbeTGKIDA4w3pkdvBF62VMA2_6hbwcHTG-Tx9bxZX5w1WKt3rY-Vm_lh-Fq0a1NdPDNX9zHX4IvP6BwsWapB9T4IphgiqZXykIk3-UiRC3JwyhWse_oHryXcvPOK0cdProjJ_imsQj/s400/Tacna+to+Arequipa+%284%29.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Fog, fog, and more fog.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxWeNPWSo8kFETjXHFocnXgmsBuabsdP9kEnS5CEcrDdNfSvNFNTwH5yN5-rLAyNOzChLttnOkNOqdg5dNKTLQcgREgkbjMRBQBdGxza6ldPtTY3AIRaHDtXZlWHLpzw17ouYScxhahIal/s1600/Tacna+to+Arequipa+%286%29.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxWeNPWSo8kFETjXHFocnXgmsBuabsdP9kEnS5CEcrDdNfSvNFNTwH5yN5-rLAyNOzChLttnOkNOqdg5dNKTLQcgREgkbjMRBQBdGxza6ldPtTY3AIRaHDtXZlWHLpzw17ouYScxhahIal/s400/Tacna+to+Arequipa+%286%29.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
When we weren't driving on the road so straight it looked like it would take
us right over the horizon, we were whipping around tight curves in a thick fog,
taking up a lane and a half, and narrowly avoiding semi trucks trying to do the
same.<br />
We did pass a few patches of green along the way, and of course that's where
little towns had sprung up.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizEC6sCR_4djhxmAdH17iRuz7U5UuYWtpbscs4ngDLSS8KSzTRGTT4Os7KYTqFO6llrGuHrGDhYNcW2T6Qmnka1f2kl5tmnGqB61s1tRvRDcZBiHb7YkeM6Uar036qhCMGyRhuLZh-sYzb/s1600/Tacna+to+Arequipa+%288%29.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizEC6sCR_4djhxmAdH17iRuz7U5UuYWtpbscs4ngDLSS8KSzTRGTT4Os7KYTqFO6llrGuHrGDhYNcW2T6Qmnka1f2kl5tmnGqB61s1tRvRDcZBiHb7YkeM6Uar036qhCMGyRhuLZh-sYzb/s400/Tacna+to+Arequipa+%288%29.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Despite the less-than-captivating landscape, we did have a mostly enjoyable
ride. We were only stopped once to take all the passengers and luggage out at a
drug checkpoint, and lucked out in the seatmate category. We ended up with
Michael and Susanne, a lovely couple from England who for their fifth wedding
anniversary quit their jobs to take a year off and travel the world. This trip
was toward the end of their three months in South America, but they still have
New Zealand, Australia, Thailand, and India to go before they head home. We
shared jokes and stories and memories and plans with them for many of the seven
hours we spent on that bus, and we are very grateful we had them there to help
us pass the time.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Wx-wkT2RWG1kRt-Jzrz4-HZT0d8ngz4pMblA8xDQ1-x1Sv8HLripyNosM5o3aATB2L40RdTIwPf98Wbh5Jot5XXxhsin15HEmiTgTeatFKaFI-fQxUwVJpxqP-eeJSJIUkn3qOXIxZzE/s1600/Tacna+to+Arequipa.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Wx-wkT2RWG1kRt-Jzrz4-HZT0d8ngz4pMblA8xDQ1-x1Sv8HLripyNosM5o3aATB2L40RdTIwPf98Wbh5Jot5XXxhsin15HEmiTgTeatFKaFI-fQxUwVJpxqP-eeJSJIUkn3qOXIxZzE/s640/Tacna+to+Arequipa.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
When we did finally make it to Arequipa, we looked for the Oltursa counter
(a <b>great</b> recommendation from our good friend Ronald), and bought tickets
for the next bus to Cusco. While we waited, we bought a delicious and
long-overdue lunch, which we ate for about $1.60 each. (Turns out we should
have studied in Peru!) A few hours later, we loaded up once more, on a much
nicer bus this time, and settled in for a 10-hour bus ride. They even served us
dinner and played us a movie as we fell asleep.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt;">Saturday, July 7th</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjibPjaSwCaI12guIyFZgEvKTVhTRsMRHvWbPfEnFWDWOEqySxhtwChNXlqTYleE8c-AlQ7rzcqKf0VvwdJJxufpRl7Dc7D5_yB0LcXMzTE4Obs81UTwoOH9vQoOxZgKEdI6XYiChFErued/s1600/Bus+to+Cusco.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjibPjaSwCaI12guIyFZgEvKTVhTRsMRHvWbPfEnFWDWOEqySxhtwChNXlqTYleE8c-AlQ7rzcqKf0VvwdJJxufpRl7Dc7D5_yB0LcXMzTE4Obs81UTwoOH9vQoOxZgKEdI6XYiChFErued/s400/Bus+to+Cusco.JPG" width="400" /></a>Want to know the best way to travel? Go to sleep in Arequipa and wake up in
Cusco. Granted, I do sleep rather better in an actual bed, and a shower would
have been nice, but I'm not complaining. We saved whatever money we would have
spent on a place to sleep, and what would have been an entire day of
bus-riding. And on top of that, when you arrive at a bus station at 6am, the
usual throng of taxi drivers and bus ticket-sellers has not arrived to accost
confused travelers yet. So that was a plus. It gave Colin and I a chance to sit
down and recover our groggy brains and try and figure out what to do next. I
couldn't actually remember the name of the next town we were supposed to go to,
and it was too small for any of the bus companies to go to, so we were kind of
at a loss. On top of that, I was still worried about being scammed by taxi
drivers or anyone else who might be able to make money off of us. We decided to
ask a nice girl working for a bus company (that for sure didn't go to this
town), what the best way to get to Machu Picchu was. She was very nice and
wrote down the next two steps for us: a taxi to Calle Pavitos, and a <i>carro</i>
to Ollantaytambo. No wonder I couldn't remember the name. So we grabbed a taxi
driver and asked him to take us to Calle Pavitos.<br />
<br />
Apparently everyone is very used to tourists trying to get to Machu Picchu,
because before the taxi even came to a complete stop, the men at Calle Pavitos
were pulling our backpacks out of the trunk and throwing them on the luggage
rack on top of a van. We asked the taxi driver as we were getting out if this
was the right way to get to Ollantaytambo, and he said yes, not looking phased
at all by the speed with which everything was happening. So we loaded up once
again and took a two hour ride through the (this time beautiful) Peruvian
countryside. We skirted mountains and valleys until we made it to the far side
of Ollantaytambo where the train station waited for us.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFkPnZ5pSta4J2j15uwHi01pUIGySI23pPBtwCFSfMW0yoDgzTmYLYmP2AiUuHWI9Ogtwn87ODUq5yhGrYmL6K55ikYlLltOuwecD55UPHCrP0qrEbSJfmohgTRQXdB8CEg25GWTBSobKh/s1600/Car+to+Ollantaytambo+%285%29.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFkPnZ5pSta4J2j15uwHi01pUIGySI23pPBtwCFSfMW0yoDgzTmYLYmP2AiUuHWI9Ogtwn87ODUq5yhGrYmL6K55ikYlLltOuwecD55UPHCrP0qrEbSJfmohgTRQXdB8CEg25GWTBSobKh/s400/Car+to+Ollantaytambo+%285%29.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view on the way to Ollantaytambo</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
By this point we were getting used to walking up to counters and asking
strangers what to do, so we marched right up to the first window and asked for
the cheapest and soonest train to Aguascalientes. It was only barely 9am, so we
figured we'd have time to get there and get settled in and explore the town a
little, so we could head to Machu Picchu bright and early in the morning. Then
the man in the window said "We have no more spaces on the trains till
tomorrow.”<br />
<br />
What.<br />
<br />
Keep in mind step number five of The Plan: Make it back to the airport in
time for our flight. We had absolutely not planned on losing nearly an entire
day before even getting to Machu Picchu.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKvoIRKPnfHP3tHdvD5E7oGMzbMBgFmMFLQ_uiuLFM1lKNHxWNesuIHAYW_ae8jlTPqVOtTWaZgDW8MhxWFO9TniOpUOdRB-KlAhCk2wBLtoN2392-lYkj5g6Jd2RmIoVcMt2PoEWopgeE/s1600/Train+to+Aguascalientes+%282%29.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKvoIRKPnfHP3tHdvD5E7oGMzbMBgFmMFLQ_uiuLFM1lKNHxWNesuIHAYW_ae8jlTPqVOtTWaZgDW8MhxWFO9TniOpUOdRB-KlAhCk2wBLtoN2392-lYkj5g6Jd2RmIoVcMt2PoEWopgeE/s320/Train+to+Aguascalientes+%282%29.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
We must have looked sufficiently panic-stricken, because the man then
pointed out that there are a few other train companies that go to
Aguascalientes and showed us where to find them. Needless to say, we were
thoroughly relieved to find that there was ample availability on the 10:30
train with IncaRail. The hour and a half train ride through the mountains was
pleasant; we spent it looking at the scenery and chatting with a Venezuelan
couple who said we spoke Spanish very well. The only downside to the ride was
my rising fear that there would not actually be hostels in Aguascalientes and
we'd have to pay to take the train back to Ollantaytambo and then to
Aguascalientes again in the morning. This is the kind of thing that happens to
me when I don't have a plan.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmucEHxGzycEz2bpEjSTcns1tuWLBWYC_Ao5ZSQw0Pi3m1PEk5y_6FfUTgmn7gk1_tF1WBgcUF2FK4bXcis63FFn9ce5kabNkbi_t9D4pqbJ8jwWf10SUgH1a11nBVEhWuRanScWuW4qa4/s1600/Train+to+Aguascalientes+%288%29.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmucEHxGzycEz2bpEjSTcns1tuWLBWYC_Ao5ZSQw0Pi3m1PEk5y_6FfUTgmn7gk1_tF1WBgcUF2FK4bXcis63FFn9ce5kabNkbi_t9D4pqbJ8jwWf10SUgH1a11nBVEhWuRanScWuW4qa4/s640/Train+to+Aguascalientes+%288%29.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some ruins we saw on the way to Aguascalientes. Machu Picchu, here we come!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Hr0L4hFUJ4U2ecIDsBNKl6Pi7uYh23Wh07LCuPMvCctlY6ReWygokhqS0bHO9UwkznqoSTFimG7mMCKGi6GJG_sTsESYopwKBci2gJwYluK-2n0rnPJDucxwIBT1pClQtUHkJkSyxLbR/s1600/Hostal+in+Aguascalientes+%283%29.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Hr0L4hFUJ4U2ecIDsBNKl6Pi7uYh23Wh07LCuPMvCctlY6ReWygokhqS0bHO9UwkznqoSTFimG7mMCKGi6GJG_sTsESYopwKBci2gJwYluK-2n0rnPJDucxwIBT1pClQtUHkJkSyxLbR/s320/Hostal+in+Aguascalientes+%283%29.JPG" width="151" /></a><br />
But we arrived in Aguascalientes and there were indeed hostels, so we booked
a room in the first one we saw. (A regrettable decision, but like I said, I was
fighting a panic attack...) Once we had a place to leave our backpacks, we
wandered around Aguascalientes for a while. We looked through the <i>feria</i>,
found an ATM so we could take out money, and sat down to eat lunch at a place
that offered us the "student discount:" anything on the menu for ten
dollars. After some delicious pesto pasta and lamb stew, we went back to our
hostel and prepared to face the shower.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW7qMcsxWn5cPNJa1WE_iEAlUaaDErPZ9UxKhXsAsAhULEeAArC6_nVQ7GBdoAzvJdXI6PnSnv_8IR0KqCpf_e46vAD44NBrRaLTiLJg78x0oKCX14CtOJRVCRscg5EVq__88jJ-G_ChP8/s1600/Hostal+in+Aguascalientes+%286%29.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW7qMcsxWn5cPNJa1WE_iEAlUaaDErPZ9UxKhXsAsAhULEeAArC6_nVQ7GBdoAzvJdXI6PnSnv_8IR0KqCpf_e46vAD44NBrRaLTiLJg78x0oKCX14CtOJRVCRscg5EVq__88jJ-G_ChP8/s400/Hostal+in+Aguascalientes+%286%29.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, those are electrical wires running through our water supply...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
As far as I've ever heard, the combination of water and electricity is a <b>bad
idea</b>. I felt like I was going to get electrocuted just looking at it! And
if it doesn't look scary enough, vaguely remembering an explanation that
involves an electric current running through the water <i>right before it lands
on your head</i> made it no less than terrifying. Regardless, after two long
days of travel, we didn't really have a choice. So Colin kindly risked his life
first, and I waited for the verdict. And the verdict was: Cold. Like, <b>ICE
COLD</b>. We tried everything. We flipped every switch and turned every knob,
including (accidentally) the one that shuts off the water to our room. Defeated
and frozen, we retreated to our beds and promptly crashed for several
hours.<br />
<br />
When the noise of extraordinarily loud music woke me, I dragged Colin out of
his bed to explore the town with me. It turned out we had just happened to
arrive the day that Machu Picchu was celebrating its 50th anniversary as one of
the New 7 Wonders of the World! So we made our way to the square to listen to
the music, and ended up dancing the night away with some Brazilian girls named
Raquel and Camila.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkGBs7P4AsyN3T_nwx26deHboISIMjEhgwUDSgeuTjZ2qImhGBFgt1U4ChNo61_sX4QGSVtigXvxo6XOhxsLmB4T9zNFTPXStZ0VhMpl5HT7y8gHzQiNOlxYbvZQNBnTuoSia3-JtLzbOf/s1600/50th+anniversary+celebration+%286%29.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkGBs7P4AsyN3T_nwx26deHboISIMjEhgwUDSgeuTjZ2qImhGBFgt1U4ChNo61_sX4QGSVtigXvxo6XOhxsLmB4T9zNFTPXStZ0VhMpl5HT7y8gHzQiNOlxYbvZQNBnTuoSia3-JtLzbOf/s400/50th+anniversary+celebration+%286%29.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt;">Sunday, July 8th</span><br />
We woke up bright and early (again), and set off to fulfill a dream. We
bundled up and took a bus up the side of one of the mountains which encircle
Aguascalientes, and after about 40 minutes of switchbacks, we arrived at the
gate. Aside from being asked if we wanted a tour guide, we just showed our
tickets and were free to go.<br />
<br />
When we rounded the corner, the only thought that would fit in my head
was "We're really here. This is real life."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt5H0OWljRKtuhu0ICEOJ1WXYe7UHhDx8iryCOWa0GE1YH_L14iLVM6B4JT-L8sKc-qMdt7qC1QDzqwSNBVTRunMrYAEpu7pITdoi9rqCqD_tQqHfFYSr-7RAXTWRxzWVGBfSGxuLrt5ML/s1600/DSC_0160.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt5H0OWljRKtuhu0ICEOJ1WXYe7UHhDx8iryCOWa0GE1YH_L14iLVM6B4JT-L8sKc-qMdt7qC1QDzqwSNBVTRunMrYAEpu7pITdoi9rqCqD_tQqHfFYSr-7RAXTWRxzWVGBfSGxuLrt5ML/s640/DSC_0160.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheGQiwJl6-M4iAX5yHjlFJLkDlOW_0bP8mmOLR6f_tuT_nAPcUB9FyLh2n-_y0-9Wit_CWMJFlaQVYMtsPhrTa2RvvUvCgCequoIEhqBgtPdCAIBUgwbnnVf8XXkMYUP3Iu8FbYLtyfUKg/s1600/DSC_0146.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheGQiwJl6-M4iAX5yHjlFJLkDlOW_0bP8mmOLR6f_tuT_nAPcUB9FyLh2n-_y0-9Wit_CWMJFlaQVYMtsPhrTa2RvvUvCgCequoIEhqBgtPdCAIBUgwbnnVf8XXkMYUP3Iu8FbYLtyfUKg/s640/DSC_0146.JPG" width="425" /></a></div>
<br />
Even through the clouds of the morning, the view was breathtaking.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiffNgb7mhh5uo2VD6jZsOvH1gIAkIkLC6iJfMgOqIv8sDn1qD_76TkFkMXGc7WE_-zhbIUgfduDfEZNxE2-2FfLfM9LfYyxh1uRF5lB-e4e_Nm7ORiudzBnJlaFcfCJT5XOKd7alvTz-Zf/s1600/DSC_0135.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiffNgb7mhh5uo2VD6jZsOvH1gIAkIkLC6iJfMgOqIv8sDn1qD_76TkFkMXGc7WE_-zhbIUgfduDfEZNxE2-2FfLfM9LfYyxh1uRF5lB-e4e_Nm7ORiudzBnJlaFcfCJT5XOKd7alvTz-Zf/s640/DSC_0135.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl9gnE6dT8Pk-wJWUt7V-GzQIkNuD78c1J9mcJFZhn-AlJz2KDNcchjIJ1pMReRAeKO4nMrre-m5jlqDkaQyH3YawrM0578msf7rZ59cEcDSYmD5x3tYUVnbjYL2NhT8zG0IPhJ_RixKx1/s1600/DSC_0134.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl9gnE6dT8Pk-wJWUt7V-GzQIkNuD78c1J9mcJFZhn-AlJz2KDNcchjIJ1pMReRAeKO4nMrre-m5jlqDkaQyH3YawrM0578msf7rZ59cEcDSYmD5x3tYUVnbjYL2NhT8zG0IPhJ_RixKx1/s640/DSC_0134.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
We spent hours walking through every part of the ruins we could.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYp1ZZf-eLYwfPFO0BtXcaDLzSIDkEaF5_pvXPhPn-_3DTCQ9cXe8Fc3gk_zkhiUbbf5nQ5bA2WwccFA59bCTyOcBFxI7LYxzLC465HhnUYyDosZ64rsWdXpuma1BSgFYBH8YaCXpzCn41/s1600/DSC_0261.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYp1ZZf-eLYwfPFO0BtXcaDLzSIDkEaF5_pvXPhPn-_3DTCQ9cXe8Fc3gk_zkhiUbbf5nQ5bA2WwccFA59bCTyOcBFxI7LYxzLC465HhnUYyDosZ64rsWdXpuma1BSgFYBH8YaCXpzCn41/s320/DSC_0261.JPG" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colin's Inca-sized too! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP7kQXBiX7Z9bAgSTOWuZd-YwSyS2FNWr3m7qpoo0AYS74TryBDzFvmyN2b-HqNaWSsdZ-kPsgRdawRTE5yEIFQNVTs9zpiHbZQaDdHZaa1wif57YCULQ2Wosn_5JwnATiZ_0iuA0RaTPD/s1600/DSC_0198.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP7kQXBiX7Z9bAgSTOWuZd-YwSyS2FNWr3m7qpoo0AYS74TryBDzFvmyN2b-HqNaWSsdZ-kPsgRdawRTE5yEIFQNVTs9zpiHbZQaDdHZaa1wif57YCULQ2Wosn_5JwnATiZ_0iuA0RaTPD/s320/DSC_0198.JPG" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look, I'm Inca-sized! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2qHyKMzKKgt05en2I9q_xhHd72ezwsb6mOmY4A0T9345SiLKFKJdzFVHVvUWFNil46WddguUXgDhw7btdX-6NlOGim2Ol35W-Mh6NRZktOQFiHTuzm4K81-1Tq5MYyQex5aMAhGxHmc05/s1600/DSC_0349.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2qHyKMzKKgt05en2I9q_xhHd72ezwsb6mOmY4A0T9345SiLKFKJdzFVHVvUWFNil46WddguUXgDhw7btdX-6NlOGim2Ol35W-Mh6NRZktOQFiHTuzm4K81-1Tq5MYyQex5aMAhGxHmc05/s640/DSC_0349.JPG" width="640" /></a>We even met llamas!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBgXZQrixeJBWkUnB_N3e-HHz8aN6FnoUr57qLtJFHx74iwD8-NfCwbiGOlZKG_o01rBLlwpozf_1tXgDieKYtzSUYGQi3yV076_tUKYFolT4eiEMVF6lnSgoHK7ZL0Yc9a9dTLcY1zPPV/s1600/DSC_0354.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBgXZQrixeJBWkUnB_N3e-HHz8aN6FnoUr57qLtJFHx74iwD8-NfCwbiGOlZKG_o01rBLlwpozf_1tXgDieKYtzSUYGQi3yV076_tUKYFolT4eiEMVF6lnSgoHK7ZL0Yc9a9dTLcY1zPPV/s640/DSC_0354.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
And an interesting animal we don't know... some relative of the jackelope?<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrXb-2GeOr2qtHFgifHb6zD0P88WqwpvhNkrUhoEVlZzrpJsX74h9BR65TrTlgmLhTYxA45m5r9Cg2TM2v8JTqwJgQw9XCOu0MYuearASRm55obUTUhKLhtpgG_kJtmrYgstAheI0Mk4GI/s1600/DSC_0346.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="458" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrXb-2GeOr2qtHFgifHb6zD0P88WqwpvhNkrUhoEVlZzrpJsX74h9BR65TrTlgmLhTYxA45m5r9Cg2TM2v8JTqwJgQw9XCOu0MYuearASRm55obUTUhKLhtpgG_kJtmrYgstAheI0Mk4GI/s640/DSC_0346.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Squirrel-rabbit-mouse combo?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
After a while we decided to try out the trek to the Inca Bridge. It ended up
being only a 15 minute walk with a pretty cool view at the end.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOCr3JipTifkUHcijE5Uwf2jequjA2I0J3SsylCls3kmEviY33034_jKvMfYLMBRsvachAcvX0F3KzoknZA0oc3m1qcf5pgoXkF2uTmwO0DmTxQTxb1J9wSVAK-MYdMFn1d26zMmZXglZc/s1600/DSC_0390.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOCr3JipTifkUHcijE5Uwf2jequjA2I0J3SsylCls3kmEviY33034_jKvMfYLMBRsvachAcvX0F3KzoknZA0oc3m1qcf5pgoXkF2uTmwO0DmTxQTxb1J9wSVAK-MYdMFn1d26zMmZXglZc/s320/DSC_0390.JPG" width="213" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9oM8sk50KcAAuT1rjfasSZnGrue7q2MTm6J0J2pnpReKIaBnwamrZ7FSlNQTuvEDCBLPBPn-ZpxRlMfMUENiEwT77hbpGJ4aXcrQBdQVkq42w8LUiMPoPZ96zcMTo3AZgtQY2Gk2wks3_/s1600/DSC_0405.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9oM8sk50KcAAuT1rjfasSZnGrue7q2MTm6J0J2pnpReKIaBnwamrZ7FSlNQTuvEDCBLPBPn-ZpxRlMfMUENiEwT77hbpGJ4aXcrQBdQVkq42w8LUiMPoPZ96zcMTo3AZgtQY2Gk2wks3_/s320/DSC_0405.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
Inspired, we set off to see the Sun Gate too. Only this was an hour long
hike. Up a mountain. In the rain. When we finally did reach the top, it was
just a few stone walls and a lot of clouds. We waited there under our tiny
umbrella for the clouds to clear and for us to catch our breath, then we took a
few pictures of Machu Picchu (which is breathtaking even from that far away,
and which did indeed make the hike worth it), and headed back down.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYi5WSrVia8_G9htg4YNZJ8YoqDJwGARDof_jqQoG1MsjfXgdT7K0By9rCI8EXAG8xmBG_-q3Roe1k9kE9w_jZxDdrjHgOlUztgXAcb0g9WWtEicijlRvdJI6lGsCADiYySBLbtWG0bJ1r/s1600/DSC_0424.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYi5WSrVia8_G9htg4YNZJ8YoqDJwGARDof_jqQoG1MsjfXgdT7K0By9rCI8EXAG8xmBG_-q3Roe1k9kE9w_jZxDdrjHgOlUztgXAcb0g9WWtEicijlRvdJI6lGsCADiYySBLbtWG0bJ1r/s400/DSC_0424.JPG" width="400" /> </a></div>
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<br />
By that time all the fog and clouds had finally burned off, so we found
ourselves a spot and just sat down to soak in as much beauty as we could.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7HOOOI-5RK_pVxf09ix6lCEJOUas51VqXmAqyC-KLq55r1Oa44osssI1bU07LnXk6aLxCWDu6_T4uSDcoj6FJavHTTHxtGbdN1SkMZbph-9swT3jZKxL8rjbG8dxZe34bER0WNJhc1UYW/s1600/DSC_0463.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7HOOOI-5RK_pVxf09ix6lCEJOUas51VqXmAqyC-KLq55r1Oa44osssI1bU07LnXk6aLxCWDu6_T4uSDcoj6FJavHTTHxtGbdN1SkMZbph-9swT3jZKxL8rjbG8dxZe34bER0WNJhc1UYW/s640/DSC_0463.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And of course, by "sat down" I mean "took jump pictures." </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
When my legs couldn't handle any more climbing and our eyes couldn't take in
any more beauty and our stomachs couldn't go any longer without food, we headed
back to the bus to go down. In Aguascalientes, we did what any starving
American would do: we found a restaurant and ordered a family-size pepperoni
pizza. And we ate the whole thing.<br />
<br />
We rested much easier that night knowing that we had accomplished the
second-most-important step in the plan: along with not having died (yet), we
had <b>seen Machu Picchu</b>. <br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt;">Monday, July 9th</span><br />
The journey home was infinitely more relaxing than the initial trip since
this time we knew how long things would take, what to look for, and that each
step was indeed possible. We spent the morning on the train back to
Ollantaytambo and then got in the first van that said he was going to Cusco. At
the bus terminal, we bought our tickets for the overnight trip to Arequipa and
splurged a little, opting for the <i>bus cama</i> (bed bus) instead of just the
<i>semi-cama</i> (semi-bed). <br />
<br />
We had nowhere to be from 1pm to 7:30pm, so we set out to explore Cusco. We
found a decent looking chicken place and ordered the special, which turned out
to be an appetizer, chicken noodle soup, and a pork chop with rice for $2.20.
That's two dollars and twenty cents. We ordered drinks as well, and with tax
and tip thrown in, Colin and I had a three-course meal for four dollars each.
We should have studied in Peru. <br />
<br />
After lunch, we wandered around for a while looking for the <i>Plaza de
Armas</i>, the central plaza in Cusco. Along the way we ran into some ladies
decked out in their traditional garb, one with a baby slung on her back, and
the other with a lamb on a leash. My "tourist trap" radar is
apparently not very good, because all I saw was a baby lamb I wanted to pet. As
we walked by, they asked if we wanted a picture, so we took them up on it. I
handed the lady with the lamb about a dollar to thank her for the picture, and
then she stopped me from walking away and said "for her too?" The
smallest thing I had left was a coin worth two dollars, so I may or may not have
been swindled out of three dollars. But I got to pet a lamb. :)<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIRLFcZok1ifbLwT1_nZ-rYZyZDGJIpRzgvCZ9FAf9-MhN5ide29ucgEWszw0uvThCsCla6cEPNbbpnnPcsqDAaSpVxVBVvR7K9uVFtB0aSxjfUGXShyphenhyphenGFkrC4P6Cfhz0XSPmx6mbrdxOP/s1600/Meandering+Cusco+%288%29.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIRLFcZok1ifbLwT1_nZ-rYZyZDGJIpRzgvCZ9FAf9-MhN5ide29ucgEWszw0uvThCsCla6cEPNbbpnnPcsqDAaSpVxVBVvR7K9uVFtB0aSxjfUGXShyphenhyphenGFkrC4P6Cfhz0XSPmx6mbrdxOP/s320/Meandering+Cusco+%288%29.JPG" width="268" /></a><br />
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We did end up finding the <i>Plaza de Armas</i> and spent a few hours
walking around, people-watching, taking pictures, and saying "<i>no,
gracias</i>" to shoe-shiners. Like, at least ten shoe-shiners told me in
broken English that my shoes were dirty. Thanks. Unfortunately I do not have a
heart of stone, so when 11-year-old Rodrigo came by and said it was for his
school, I couldn't say no anymore. We found out while he was shining my shoes
that he knows the capital of the US and our president, he learned to shine
shoes from watching other people do it, and that he wants to be a tour guide
when he grows up.<br />
<br />
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<br />
The two churches across the street from the <i>Plaza de Armas</i> were
beautiful, and they had some interesting statues built into their walls.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT19w5zx_Zka-c8CFcn07NbZmLgeQcAH1k8fVlEtJkiTH0zZZmmvLKjW0mrbgUp92N3szK-N0g5ImXd6nXQggoOf6hvNIXCzqj87gh6P2PNkOiARDsJs53zSkMbjGKI7rV3rQ7jwMi86cB/s1600/Plaza+de+Armas+%288%29.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="352" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT19w5zx_Zka-c8CFcn07NbZmLgeQcAH1k8fVlEtJkiTH0zZZmmvLKjW0mrbgUp92N3szK-N0g5ImXd6nXQggoOf6hvNIXCzqj87gh6P2PNkOiARDsJs53zSkMbjGKI7rV3rQ7jwMi86cB/s640/Plaza+de+Armas+%288%29.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5v2ccQpKBM4qARHLjTcXITiwxrM7ZD8AbFft75PCLNzR7A4bd8W1SPjaAklDkjZN6dycyIRxm-GNxPkna5ep2DkdBApo8tWkkTu_JYatEQudFRq4OT6cBspVIdIzlikwTDsjHNsqjCeyt/s1600/Plaza+de+Armas+%2818%29.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="536" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5v2ccQpKBM4qARHLjTcXITiwxrM7ZD8AbFft75PCLNzR7A4bd8W1SPjaAklDkjZN6dycyIRxm-GNxPkna5ep2DkdBApo8tWkkTu_JYatEQudFRq4OT6cBspVIdIzlikwTDsjHNsqjCeyt/s640/Plaza+de+Armas+%2818%29.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQYHvVc8-JjxtGDK0OoGlgk31STXLTSulOdZ68NTBx0x6Ee6WE23xdeDlheDPXhAZ-N3t9SvxbGmooMKicOeJ7yFX6CO3GkvAvHi1fvzuyE1kwv2Exzt1t9kmoK513fFDjKal66Gr-UKlN/s1600/Plaza+de+Armas+%286%29.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="554" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQYHvVc8-JjxtGDK0OoGlgk31STXLTSulOdZ68NTBx0x6Ee6WE23xdeDlheDPXhAZ-N3t9SvxbGmooMKicOeJ7yFX6CO3GkvAvHi1fvzuyE1kwv2Exzt1t9kmoK513fFDjKal66Gr-UKlN/s640/Plaza+de+Armas+%286%29.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
It wasn't actually in the <i>Plaza de Armas</i>, but we stumbled upon this awesome mural of Incan history while meandering around Cusco.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9uzNyzt4OHfKhzLBB9Inibb2m8gG_GxHIlLaiz98Za2243XJASlvhCzU332ieZi0UVDraf5LprhyphenhyphenE2WBNAp9VC7r1vmOfcLyc2KqQPKkIzdZzs2pzmEYgKS4dvvLmtQC7iRxllo9OWDOq/s1600/Street+Mural+%282%29.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9uzNyzt4OHfKhzLBB9Inibb2m8gG_GxHIlLaiz98Za2243XJASlvhCzU332ieZi0UVDraf5LprhyphenhyphenE2WBNAp9VC7r1vmOfcLyc2KqQPKkIzdZzs2pzmEYgKS4dvvLmtQC7iRxllo9OWDOq/s640/Street+Mural+%282%29.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
When the sun went down and it got too cold to be outside, we went back to
the bus station to wait. And that bed bus was worth the wait. The chairs were
huge and comfy and reclined, they fed us dinner, dessert, and tea, and they
gave us headphones for the movie. (My Name is Khan, a tear-jerker if I've ever
seen one.) <br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt;">Tuesday, July 10th</span><br />
If the bed bus wasn't already on my list of recommendations, it would have
made it in the morning when they turned the lights on just outside of Arequipa
so they could bring us breakfast.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsfa0i6qQHVoIJ1KU0c4gUaDkJrLI_ERxPz8n3s76983jqK3_OfjDvPLtDDcU03x7EY_FqbD5-1ClzaJpMtiFSRVKRV6O8GIAGCL3Syu-pMOdRpkp64gYMmNv-wEywqBZqB8QWMB11XMdv/s1600/Bed+bus+to+Arequipa.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsfa0i6qQHVoIJ1KU0c4gUaDkJrLI_ERxPz8n3s76983jqK3_OfjDvPLtDDcU03x7EY_FqbD5-1ClzaJpMtiFSRVKRV6O8GIAGCL3Syu-pMOdRpkp64gYMmNv-wEywqBZqB8QWMB11XMdv/s640/Bed+bus+to+Arequipa.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Bus cama</i>, so worth the wait.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The bus from Arequipa to Tacna was not even comparable. We endured nearly
six hours of kids alternately screaming, crying, growling, yelling, and
singing, our only distraction being a bootleg copy of Ice Age 4 in Spanish. But
we survived and immediately hopped in a car to Arica when we got off the bus.
Thankfully, the car-across-the-border system felt significantly less sketchy
the second time, in the daylight. When we did make it back into Chile, a taxi
driver kindly took us to a hostel he knew of, and we spent a relaxed evening
walking around Arica, eating our last Chorillanas in Chile, and watching Big
Bang Theory. We finally knew we were going to achieve goal number five of The
Plan: make it back to the airport for our flight.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt;">Wednesday, July 11th</span><br />
And make it we did. We got a ride back to the airport and flew uneventfully
back to Santiago and then home.<br />
<br />
All around, it was the trip of a lifetime, just like this whole study abroad
experience. I wouldn't trade a second of it for the world.Rachel Davenporthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07114485023775563678noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622104096545081487.post-604137116180894602012-06-30T17:30:00.002-04:002012-09-03T23:00:48.682-03:00I don't want to say goodbyeOur time here in Chile has reminded me very much of things my parents tell me. I'm not talking about the advice they give you like "don't talk to strangers." I mean the sentimental things like "I blinked and you grew up! Where has the time gone?" With only fifteen days left in our South American paradise, it's hard to believe we've been here four months. Seems like just yesterday we were scared, little gringos stepping off the plane in this long, skinny country. But enough with this sappy dialogue.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd4xqZWFqu2TTXQ0c9lTVHQigQktzfxTPohsE9YJ79z0oi4Ip3srjCnQywBa3B_pVJKRlzXe4UuzubwphN-xxG2HuORVM7xhY2KoA7VhIDLJxmQEVj_qiyPhIn6pE6x3I-16DcdeNv7Uv1/s1600/DSC_0016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd4xqZWFqu2TTXQ0c9lTVHQigQktzfxTPohsE9YJ79z0oi4Ip3srjCnQywBa3B_pVJKRlzXe4UuzubwphN-xxG2HuORVM7xhY2KoA7VhIDLJxmQEVj_qiyPhIn6pE6x3I-16DcdeNv7Uv1/s400/DSC_0016.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">J. J. Harting: speaks Spanish, English & German. Loves jazz.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Great news! We scored high enough on the third test in our business class to be exempt from the final! It was an interesting class to say the least, and we learned a few new things. Overall it was just a great experience to meet some new (spanish-speaking) friends, and watch some interesting documentaries we wouldn't have seen otherwise. This experience also makes me smile when I think that we (and by we, I mean me) were worried about doing well on the tests and whether we'd have to drop the class. We'll also never forget that our professor changed the class meeting time halfway through the semester, which enraged us! Alas, as with all things Chilean, you just have to take them in stride.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUVVleIAMXxszq1kNpGXV6-oEZXhlcdNDl6hC-mNqORyEPYG8ZxDVq9FThz1OmksGQIAgA_L6AbTQF4S6Lb-zRVo8Z1yLOdH0_gH9h3z3Z2WMuedDqH2qI7GXjK7HIE_sPYjpEK580wXvr/s1600/DSC_0011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUVVleIAMXxszq1kNpGXV6-oEZXhlcdNDl6hC-mNqORyEPYG8ZxDVq9FThz1OmksGQIAgA_L6AbTQF4S6Lb-zRVo8Z1yLOdH0_gH9h3z3Z2WMuedDqH2qI7GXjK7HIE_sPYjpEK580wXvr/s400/DSC_0011.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Ortofonía</i>- we had too much fun learning. Carlos, Brandon, Rachel, Katie,<br />
Allyn, <i>Joven</i> Mike, and me.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
As for our other classes, we're pretty much done. We lack a dialogue test with our <i>Ortofonía</i> class, and a final in our grammar class. (If you were wondering how we were going to celebrate July 4th, we'll be taking said grammar test. Happy Birthday, America!) Our classes have all been great, but in different ways. Sometimes the material is the great part. Other times it is the teacher that makes class worthwhile. We'll take something special away from each class, mostly the new friends we've made here!<br />
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<br />
Now that school is almost over, Rachel and I have been trying to make a list of things we'll miss. (A daunting task, mind you.) However, here are some things/people we'll miss for years to come.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi532AD9BS1F9o3RDSHYiNmRYjZ84V9j-wsFV93UezQHqoxvdn4cLoJIAvXEOrb2nY41QUpHFtUja5nVIzoZdDblOWb9iAB4Iq3flX_kawTW_H0Zm1ZHQY5OGdIgjUMhIDzxcPzJr8h9IKF/s1600/DSC_0014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi532AD9BS1F9o3RDSHYiNmRYjZ84V9j-wsFV93UezQHqoxvdn4cLoJIAvXEOrb2nY41QUpHFtUja5nVIzoZdDblOWb9iAB4Iq3flX_kawTW_H0Zm1ZHQY5OGdIgjUMhIDzxcPzJr8h9IKF/s640/DSC_0014.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>¡Maní confitado!</i> Sugared peanuts, the best snack for $500 pesos.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i>Doña Raquel</i> is one of the nicest Chilean ladies we've met here. Basically our relationship began with Rachel and I coming by to buy <i>maní confitado</i> every three days or so. She always smiled and exchanged pleasantries with us. After a few weeks we got to the "Do you like Chile? What are you studying?" phase. Nowadays when we go by it's full of hugs and smiles. I'll miss her terribly.... and her sugared peanuts. ;)<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvowu2myPiQXiRyNLZxBwGB73_maNlm_QvrRfJwRxlbh0zDlGtJgjdQ8neHXDssqBnHDi5NHzDsCb3wGaTzWsAlb0Q-ckiuGF0mP3RiueqSDoll-FnUBXzmFQ7gnhECytHzySCOCMolvJJ/s1600/DSC_0012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvowu2myPiQXiRyNLZxBwGB73_maNlm_QvrRfJwRxlbh0zDlGtJgjdQ8neHXDssqBnHDi5NHzDsCb3wGaTzWsAlb0Q-ckiuGF0mP3RiueqSDoll-FnUBXzmFQ7gnhECytHzySCOCMolvJJ/s640/DSC_0012.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rachel, <i>Raquel,</i> and me!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGV4PtEwR4c9tHu4No4XDMClar3m3UAY7YNeq-ZpnSYmRpvtCU1f-HuW_kMVE-ddBK-Zq-xkGGhV9Jzls35piM86E3Hx24JzZddFOQqExK5ZKKemAJlNXu60-CD6fskuDt8DBK7zajKmtA/s1600/DSC_0021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGV4PtEwR4c9tHu4No4XDMClar3m3UAY7YNeq-ZpnSYmRpvtCU1f-HuW_kMVE-ddBK-Zq-xkGGhV9Jzls35piM86E3Hx24JzZddFOQqExK5ZKKemAJlNXu60-CD6fskuDt8DBK7zajKmtA/s400/DSC_0021.JPG" width="375" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, <i>Macarena, Maria Jose,</i> and Rachel</td></tr>
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These are the <i>practicantes</i> (student teachers) we had the privilege of knowing while volunteering at <i>Colegio Paul Harris</i>. They are in college as well, quite close to finishing and they hope to be English teachers at an elementary school someday. It was nice to talk to them and relate as one student to another.<br />
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Not pictured are <i>Mauricio </i>and <i>Ricardo</i>. Between the four of them and the two of us, our classes on Thursdays had no shortage of help for English class!<br />
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Side note: We didn't have to wear those ghastly orange aprons ever week. They were just for our closing program for volunteering the other day.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQjcjnJTqyX-tx2H76jRgEvnq5fI1D9ka_ty_h9_YYGh_ct42xKbQzzUIP5IWUmlBJK677UljUEYwU51do8b8ToP0XI5ozhYw2Qzr4QH_uTOzYo3XGhduDD89Tns4tzFaz-3bqrHZt9exW/s1600/DSC_0041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQjcjnJTqyX-tx2H76jRgEvnq5fI1D9ka_ty_h9_YYGh_ct42xKbQzzUIP5IWUmlBJK677UljUEYwU51do8b8ToP0XI5ozhYw2Qzr4QH_uTOzYo3XGhduDD89Tns4tzFaz-3bqrHZt9exW/s400/DSC_0041.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Teacher Rodrigo. He's totally boss.</td></tr>
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However, our volunteer experience would not be complete without the help and enthusiasm of one man-- Teacher Rodrigo! This guy is awesome! He was welcoming when we arrived on the first day and even invited Rachel and me to his house for <i>once</i> last week. Apart from teaching English at the elementary school, he also teaches a class at a university. He's a lover of all things Beatles and Rock & Roll, and has a flair for technology. I'll really miss some of his expressions like "We have to fly!" and "Let's go lads." (He learned British English in college, so his accent and phrases are colored by the UK.)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From N. Carolina to Chile. She's <i>bacán</i>.</td></tr>
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At our school, there are many people who have welcomed us with open arms and hearts. We'll be content to mention two today.<br />
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Kathleen Lowry is.... well to tell you the truth, I don't really know her title. Suffice it to say she is a BOSS! She's been able to handle any problem we've thrown at here and she's always ready to fill in as chaperone on the trips Carlos can't make. She's also a fan of <i>chorillanas!</i> (She once took us to one of her favorite places to eat them.) She's kind of like Rachel's role model since she moved down here to live in Chile on somewhat of whim. We'll definitely miss her <i>mucho!</i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeZ8WPa7CnHyfOTsTyli6QIviXD9GifKq7u9AHuT2tQFoajpbQYe-j56n2Y6WIAeTfYEY8nAzynGt53JVAu8zKwkmcxyTp_Xv1t-DyCivbBxy2Zx9vSW4K7j2eUbo14t0lToAdwZeXl_hJ/s1600/DSC_0047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeZ8WPa7CnHyfOTsTyli6QIviXD9GifKq7u9AHuT2tQFoajpbQYe-j56n2Y6WIAeTfYEY8nAzynGt53JVAu8zKwkmcxyTp_Xv1t-DyCivbBxy2Zx9vSW4K7j2eUbo14t0lToAdwZeXl_hJ/s400/DSC_0047.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He told us this WAS his smile. </td></tr>
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<i>Don Juan de Dios Gay</i> is the best guard this side of the equator. He's an interesting guy who's worked in Chile, Argentina, and Portugal. He always smiles when walk up to the school. We usually spend a few minutes before class talking to him. He has taught us quite a few <i>dichos</i> or sayings in Chilean.<br />
We have an ongoing argument on whether it's going to rain or not that day. (He usually wins.) At any rate, we've been blessed to know <i>Juan</i>. I only wish I could take him back to <i>los estados unidos</i> with me. I'd sleep more soundly if I knew <i>Jaun</i> was guarding the perimeter.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy-BTV5XYqn7b3Xu6bVUzkS7YLoN-GadBCR9x1bJnV4qActzkxd0hLf8-rwCPPJLew-tUkqMwpAsR-umNNumIgYHKO5faBS_cHqhGmScARHFOUO3oQAUMUP5Tq1YPU_Zb-wX3gRdza3jjA/s1600/Photo+on+2012-06-30+at+17.09.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy-BTV5XYqn7b3Xu6bVUzkS7YLoN-GadBCR9x1bJnV4qActzkxd0hLf8-rwCPPJLew-tUkqMwpAsR-umNNumIgYHKO5faBS_cHqhGmScARHFOUO3oQAUMUP5Tq1YPU_Zb-wX3gRdza3jjA/s320/Photo+on+2012-06-30+at+17.09.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Poor quality, my apologies.</td></tr>
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I have gotten somewhat addicted to juice in this country. I mean, back home I was quite partial to cranberry juice, but here I had to substitute. Luckily I came across this tasty liquid about a month ago. There is almost nothing better than <i>Jugo Naranja-Plátano</i> that I know of to quench a thirst. (Could be the copious amounts of sugar in it.... nah!) Sometimes it is rather hard to find, so it can seem like a treasure hunt. <i>Watts</i> is a Chilean brand so unfortunately there probably won't be this exact juice in the States, but I'll manage... somehow.<br />
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A little update: Rachel and I were supposed to go to Mendoza, Argentina this weekend. <i>Lamentablemente</i>, the pass through the Andes Mountains was closed due to all the snow! I feel as though the expression "You snooze, you lose" applies here. We won't get to meet Argentina this trip, but we both have a desire to come back to South America in the future, so we're not terribly sad.<br />
We are most definitely going to Peru next week, however. We leave here on July 5th, and shall return on July 11th.<br />
We can't wait to tell ya'll all about it!<br />
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ColinUnknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622104096545081487.post-29263036340373305362012-06-19T09:20:00.002-04:002012-06-19T09:20:09.738-04:00Beauty from painLast weekend, Colin and I had the opportunity to visit something I never imagined I'd see unless I went to Europe: a concentration camp. It's not from World War II and it's not a Nazi concentration camp, but the fact that this camp was in operation throughout the 70s is perhaps even more sobering than if it were something I'd learned about since elementary school. It's a strong reminder that the world is not all as it should be. <br />
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Obviously Villa Grimaldi is no longer a "clandestine center for detention, torture, and extermination." Now it's <i>Parque por la Paz Villa Grimaldi</i> (Park for Peace Villa Grimaldi), and it is a very somber version of beautiful. The park was constructed on the grounds of the former concentration camp as a reminder that the fight for human rights doesn't end. Most of the old concentration camp was destroyed in the years after General Pinochet's military dictatorship in an effort to cover up the crimes committed there, but a few pieces have been reconstructed to help people like us understand what went on there. There is an example of the holding cells that prisoners lived in, five people to a cell, while they awaited torture or a verdict on their fate.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The inside of this cell is three feet by three feet</td></tr>
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They have also reconstructed the Tower, an isolation center where some prisoners were taken to be tortured. They have sketches on the walls showing the life the prisoners lived here, including some of the specialized torture devices that were kept here.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bed in this picture is called "<i>la parilla</i>" (the grill). </td></tr>
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Most of the people taken to the tower were never seen again, and joined the numbers of the <i>desaparecidos</i> (the disappeared) who have never been found or accounted for. An estimated 4,500 prisoners passed through Villa Grimaldi while it was in operation, and at least 233 of them are now among the <i>desaparecidos</i>.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A memorial listing the names of the 233 known <i>desaparecidos</i> and executed</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"El olvido está</i><i> lleno de Memoria"</i> The forgotten is full of memory</td></tr>
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There is a rose garden that was planted in the park not only to mimic the rose garden that was there while it was a concentration camp, but also to commemorate all of the women who were in Villa Grimaldi and then became <i>desaparecidos</i>. When it opened, the rose garden had 36 names planted among the roses, but the monument was so moving that anyone who has a mother, daughter, wife, or sister among the <i>desaparecidos</i> can plant a rose there in their name.<br />
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<br />There are several other memorials in the park, built by organizations who had members among the detainees at Villa Grimaldi.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MIR, the Revolutionary Left Movement</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Mbm5mW7LTkqicw-a9SCPh0Iffex4zg9AYW7jO_B9_VzTDTpe1JGuw2A7EJ1nkfLf_R7mj12O7F56O8RIrh2i1uGVY7R24hoEYAOH1LOGwQ80kvLtWJEh33ycVkMHoojeQMcY2HXD5bx_/s1600/DSC_0040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Mbm5mW7LTkqicw-a9SCPh0Iffex4zg9AYW7jO_B9_VzTDTpe1JGuw2A7EJ1nkfLf_R7mj12O7F56O8RIrh2i1uGVY7R24hoEYAOH1LOGwQ80kvLtWJEh33ycVkMHoojeQMcY2HXD5bx_/s640/DSC_0040.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Communist Party of Chile</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Socialist Party of Chile</td></tr>
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At the end of our tour our guide showed us the collection of rail ties that was donated to the park by Judge Guzman after they were used as evidence in Pinochet's trials. These rail ties were found at the bottom of the ocean where we now know many of the <i>desaparecidos</i> were sent. <br />
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The Chileans have succeeded in creating a memorial that commemorates their loss, reminds them of their wrongs, brings peace to the present, and provides hope for a different future.<br />
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To conclude our exceedingly somber day in Santiago, we went to Pablo Neruda's second house, La Chascona. It was lovely, but again there was no photography allowed inside. This one was equally as convoluted as the last, but instead of having a view of the sea, it was built around a tiny waterfall on the side of a hill. It consequently had about sixteen different staircases, several of which were outside. <br />
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<br />Rachel Davenporthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07114485023775563678noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622104096545081487.post-86855308681518637482012-06-14T22:02:00.001-04:002012-09-03T23:01:41.047-03:00Happy Birthday, Rachel DavenportWell world, it happened. Our little Rachel Davenport turned <span style="font-size: large;">22</span> on June 11, 2012! My how the time flies! Seems like just a week ago she was just a little 21 year old, wandering through Chile and making the most of her study abroad! But enough of the recollections, ON WITH HER BIG DAY!<br />
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Well, her BIG DAY actually started on Saturday. Rachel's Chilean mother, <i>Mama Lorena</i> was not to be outdone in providing her favorite host daughter with a wonderful birthday celebration. So a few other <i>gringos</i> and I were invited to Rachel's house for her birthday dinner. It was fantastic! We had <i>completos</i>, chips and dip, UNO, and lots of laughs all around. (Fun Fact: lots of Chileans think we call the card game UNO, ONE in the states!)<br />
And no birthday should go without cake and candles, ever.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">22 candles. I counted.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No really,<i> Mama Lorena</i> is amazing.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Katie, <i>Mama Lorena</i>, and Rachel!</td></tr>
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The events of Rachel's actual birthday started out with us both getting dressed up! (This tradition might have started with me, but it's catching like wildfire!) We met up at the <i>centro</i> to catch our bus for our business class. I gotta say, we both looked dapper. Class went by as usual, and after it was over we left to go back to the <i>centro</i>. After we had stepped into a local <i>tienda</i> to buy some soup for lunch, we started walking towards the <i>feria</i>. As does often happen, Rachel and I got caught up in some delightful conversation, but this time we were interrupted by a Chilean lady saying something along the lines of <i>"Hey you, your bag's open.... I think you got robbed, they ran off."</i> After we came to the sharp realization that Rachel had indeed been robbed, we stopped to take stock of things. From what we gathered, her wallet was gone (and ALSO my packet of soup I'd just bought. I took it personally). Rachel took this surprisingly well, considering her Chilean ID, US military ID, metro card, 9500 pesos, and her debit card were now gone. I was a mixture of impressed since I should have noticed the poor damsel being robbed, angry since it was just unfair, and trying to remember that choice piece of scripture where Jesus says something about "loving your enemies." Silently praying for this depraved soul that preys on helpless <i>gringos</i> we made our way to the <i>feria</i> where I bought Rachel an authentic Chilean <i>chaleco</i>. She's been wanting one since we arrived and now she won't get cold in the terrible South American winter.<br />
We went back to her house, (having purchased more soup) and began preparing lunch and thinking about the rest of the day. Suddenly, Rachel comes into the kitchen holding her wallet! It appears that she put her wallet under some things in her backpack and the thief only took her phone.... and my soup. That being said, this was a huge blessing. (That praying for your enemy stuff really works.) We ate lunch, and hung out until our second class that evening.<br />
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This is the part where I tell you we have some amazing friends. We arrived to our second class with a room of balloons and everyone singing <i>Feliz Cumpleaños!</i> Class passed with not too much more action and afterwards a group of us headed out to get some Mexican food, (Rachel's choice).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>¡La reina del día!</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">snazzy. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strike>Birthday flowers</strike> <i>girasoles</i> for the birthday girl!</td></tr>
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The place we wanted to go to was unfortunately closed, but we ended up at Margarita's. There was a fireplace, 90's music, and huge plates of Mexican cuisine! Just before the food arrived, our friends lavished Rachel with lots of candy, a sketch book, a paint set, a coffee/soup mug, and more candy! Add that to the <i>chaleco</i>, flowers, and shirt she got from other people earlier and she made out like a bandit.<br />
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After filling ourselves with burritos and the like, we went to <i>Bar Ston </i>(pronounced Bar Stone) to partake in <i>terremotos</i>, which is something close to a national drink here. They are made up of wine, powdered sugar, grenadine, and a scoop of ice-cream. (Colin's opinion: "They're disgusting!" Everyone else ever: "They're amazing!") We had classes the next day so we all left to go home before things got too late.<br />
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I'm hoping that Rachel feels as lucky as I felt to have spent her birthday here in Chile, and I can only thank her for letting me share in the festivities.<br />
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From all of us once again, HAPPY BIRTHDAY RACHEL!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622104096545081487.post-64907104587494762072012-06-05T20:12:00.000-04:002012-06-05T20:12:21.523-04:00A horse, of course.<br />
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After a marvelous 21<sup>st</sup> birthday, it’s hard to
return to the mundane. Luckily, we’re in Chile and every day is a new adventure!
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This past Saturday, both Rachel and I had the chance to go
horseback riding in <i>Ritoque</i>, which is
just a little ways north of <i>Concón</i>
about thirty minutes or so. We arrived and everyone got to pretty much pick his
or her own horse, with the exception that some horses go faster than others and
therefore required a little more experienced (or daring) riders. This proved to
true for our dear friend Charlene, whose (mis)adventures you can read <a href="http://cheverecharlene.tumblr.com/post/24345629995/first-theyre-sour-then-theyre-sweet" target="_blank">here.</a>.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beachward bound</td></tr>
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After we were all saddled up and had taken a few practice
runs around the fenced area, we started for the beach. Now, at this point, it
almost seemed like our horses were rather bored with us, and simply followed
one after another; however, once we got to the beach we were given a little more
free rein with them (buh dum ch). <br />
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We spent the next couple of hours traversing through sand dunes, fording small
rivers, or galloping across the beach just like a movie. Overall, it was a
wonderful experience and aside from being a little bow-legged and having some
sore shoulders the next day, it was amazing. (But really, nobody told me that
when you turn 21 your body starts to fall apart!)</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhElyljV0IP5Wy12oODKR-LQKxq9ts_7tGTbDfhIb2nKoyicR3u8ghs-ah9_yf6RFFIicWd3ny5o8I42bnDQG_8k9_yy111qcdF2pxwRBJNaUtEUnJFoMROw3A2hT55uUuL_B0x75Mj85w5/s1600/IMG_1793.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhElyljV0IP5Wy12oODKR-LQKxq9ts_7tGTbDfhIb2nKoyicR3u8ghs-ah9_yf6RFFIicWd3ny5o8I42bnDQG_8k9_yy111qcdF2pxwRBJNaUtEUnJFoMROw3A2hT55uUuL_B0x75Mj85w5/s320/IMG_1793.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lift your feet! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmqJyDBeZGY4YYbjOVos6isnEaBlT1FcBU1uwv_MQRGi0nE2qn9t3qkLB8MiqmaVIDhJzK7GGX_KYvzoF704ij-Pbhx-S5RyEmkFR_oE6bO6oeCYWxDbuHIIALYsQrcUYH3UmFe2IrYjz4/s1600/IMG_1820.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmqJyDBeZGY4YYbjOVos6isnEaBlT1FcBU1uwv_MQRGi0nE2qn9t3qkLB8MiqmaVIDhJzK7GGX_KYvzoF704ij-Pbhx-S5RyEmkFR_oE6bO6oeCYWxDbuHIIALYsQrcUYH3UmFe2IrYjz4/s320/IMG_1820.JPG" width="244" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Goofing off :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAePzmvP0HOddbv_KJ94UveuzNEFD00ltTLbxloamDd0n9RGAqLwnYYhPPBs_-M9rwCdFDhAY1HFRAeWDUetnLtPiIm0xXyC_G7Om7xYC5OCfY2bS69MYkyV2pmdFVt3rwqgKw5BvlRplj/s1600/IMG_1783.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAePzmvP0HOddbv_KJ94UveuzNEFD00ltTLbxloamDd0n9RGAqLwnYYhPPBs_-M9rwCdFDhAY1HFRAeWDUetnLtPiIm0xXyC_G7Om7xYC5OCfY2bS69MYkyV2pmdFVt3rwqgKw5BvlRplj/s1600/IMG_1783.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAePzmvP0HOddbv_KJ94UveuzNEFD00ltTLbxloamDd0n9RGAqLwnYYhPPBs_-M9rwCdFDhAY1HFRAeWDUetnLtPiIm0xXyC_G7Om7xYC5OCfY2bS69MYkyV2pmdFVt3rwqgKw5BvlRplj/s320/IMG_1783.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aw, our horses were friends!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB4MVa0PlyvqgrmH3zzSK50-78WS65DHPYC9wKNUe3EXrbwsiG6NV_UWDm-sYVTh1w1_z4dAwIWM0owpeqTDL_htKtT7cVZ9coXHW9BIqmk3QSOLLEUESf6SxrJZfSy87yAvaoTShp0z_r/s1600/IMG_1812.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB4MVa0PlyvqgrmH3zzSK50-78WS65DHPYC9wKNUe3EXrbwsiG6NV_UWDm-sYVTh1w1_z4dAwIWM0owpeqTDL_htKtT7cVZ9coXHW9BIqmk3QSOLLEUESf6SxrJZfSy87yAvaoTShp0z_r/s320/IMG_1812.JPG" width="313" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ambling along through grassy sandy dunes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXR3N7nPufhpAkT8rzWlcnZh5jFpjqv0c3UyEAVAbjcfm42ITtBlGpXUe3XAVPbVNJOLosV4dRT-JVYCdMIxPkHxjgp4Duwo3pGDJ4YdujkSwm1ECDbvPdOAjKfpZYcVAeZnWuK47ahMGe/s1600/IMG_1825.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXR3N7nPufhpAkT8rzWlcnZh5jFpjqv0c3UyEAVAbjcfm42ITtBlGpXUe3XAVPbVNJOLosV4dRT-JVYCdMIxPkHxjgp4Duwo3pGDJ4YdujkSwm1ECDbvPdOAjKfpZYcVAeZnWuK47ahMGe/s400/IMG_1825.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Off they go! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvfL7OaJPaKvYYIyizAPaeO6ig41v-LrXo6FJX1Bx0LZtnPvuPqb5w31y_TMJfI15ZIQNYUjruTPWaHT_i8Vs_HxkWgm7ipLq8Ayu3vWGuK4razX1qzei1wAIYMD-_8UUBWkvf9dI8n-XK/s1600/319729_10150815810201486_394902741_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="435" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvfL7OaJPaKvYYIyizAPaeO6ig41v-LrXo6FJX1Bx0LZtnPvuPqb5w31y_TMJfI15ZIQNYUjruTPWaHT_i8Vs_HxkWgm7ipLq8Ayu3vWGuK4razX1qzei1wAIYMD-_8UUBWkvf9dI8n-XK/s640/319729_10150815810201486_394902741_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There's only one, <i>Concón</i>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfMNzlVj2Gp-tREioBFmsh6aXlQE4ZSo4B8TFxY9_PsOiJr3N2HUdp4eaqvp77Lb7nwhtd69LP8zlS9lWySE5BQwIeNxlzFLqyhJJiPWsctFrvxtT1E9rY-f6I-yXAUfgURw-S7p_2v1WC/s1600/IMG_1831.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfMNzlVj2Gp-tREioBFmsh6aXlQE4ZSo4B8TFxY9_PsOiJr3N2HUdp4eaqvp77Lb7nwhtd69LP8zlS9lWySE5BQwIeNxlzFLqyhJJiPWsctFrvxtT1E9rY-f6I-yXAUfgURw-S7p_2v1WC/s640/IMG_1831.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Slow and steady wins the race.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We went to <i>Concón</i>
after riding horses to go to <i>Las
Deliciosas</i>, a well-known spot for amazing <i>empanadas</i>, but apparently they’re on vacation for the month. <i>Fome!</i> Either way, we found a local shop
just a block away to eat <i>empanadas</i>
all the same. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv4yOy_St1jIO8TJltBFKIyhbO8TDhH6BEmPWj7pBnTpkRU7mt_hxjaLa0DcCsW7E1cBXnG09mU4WrUVhXKhyphenhyphen6r8LDEOLNr4NILwZmkVEDyWbiYI9f0OrFP0ZtBV7AU5ivy8VgURWq-yKO/s1600/DSC_0017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv4yOy_St1jIO8TJltBFKIyhbO8TDhH6BEmPWj7pBnTpkRU7mt_hxjaLa0DcCsW7E1cBXnG09mU4WrUVhXKhyphenhyphen6r8LDEOLNr4NILwZmkVEDyWbiYI9f0OrFP0ZtBV7AU5ivy8VgURWq-yKO/s400/DSC_0017.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rachel, Katie, and Alyssa enjoying the sand between their toes!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
June has brought some exciting things to us in Chile: some
extraordinary weather before winter totally sets in, and also some new exchange
students! <i>La Universidad Viña de Mar</i>
got five new exchange students last week who are here for a month of intensive
study. Four of the five students are from the University of Oklahoma, but
Rachel and I only knew Alyssa beforehand. We were all so excited to meet them
and help them get acquainted with the other students and the town. On Friday,
we went walking around the town, and ended up at our favorite place <i>El Baúl Café</i> before the night was over.
Sunday, Katie, Rachel, and I showed Alyssa great things in Chile like the <i>helado</i>, the <i>churros</i>, the <i>ferias</i>, and
of course, the beach! (The pacific is still cold, even if we only stuck our
feet in.) It’s hard to believe that these new students will only be here four
short weeks, but I’m sure they’ll have a wonderful time all the same. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinGAAiz615kZI1Jn-CHRSDMYmUUhDWoiXnCEWPiQiXHKfZan88IuCawgZNmnVUa1_xlXXYvEIJoT1vgaj76ITBrciNp378Gio9rre1TefpH86tNrCXkAyeX7fAnt3NUv22c5avMJaeX6V0/s1600/DSC_0019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinGAAiz615kZI1Jn-CHRSDMYmUUhDWoiXnCEWPiQiXHKfZan88IuCawgZNmnVUa1_xlXXYvEIJoT1vgaj76ITBrciNp378Gio9rre1TefpH86tNrCXkAyeX7fAnt3NUv22c5avMJaeX6V0/s640/DSC_0019.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We cannot get over how cool/edgy/hipster/fetch this place is! GAH!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Other than these exciting adventures, we have nothing else
to report. Third exams will be upon before we know it, and after that FINALS! We just got our second test back from our Business class with the other Chileans and we did exceedingly well! (6.9 and a 6.8 out of 7 for the both of us!) Our professor even complimented us our "ortografía" skills and our "capacity to reply to questions well, in a language other than our native tongue." We're super stoked, because if we do well on our last test in this class, we won't have to take the final. *fingers crossed*<br />
<br />
Somewhere we have to fit in a trip to Argentina and Peru. (I’ll leave the heavy
planning to Rachel.) </div>
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Back in the States, we have quite a few friends who’ve had
many wonderful and exciting things happen recently. To all of our friends who
have gotten married, had a baby, learned how to juggle (wait what…..?) we are
so happy for you and cannot wait to reminisce about your special experiences.
(especially you, jugglers.)</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622104096545081487.post-55620121583199599392012-05-30T20:27:00.000-04:002012-05-30T20:29:34.451-04:00Happy Birthday Colin!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAOgN8bGTyfhH22G9wwxHHipk-HEWq7TFiIvPpuC2eL0nFP4qKHQ7ilUHzWiTC5UXIjLif_iWIbSnqYictsMYAKoL3JdJnFZ6JhwwE_HnPhqRinhhlmQ4R3_8kfi7-y3yp34RgoKlzGBYp/s1600/DSC_0036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAOgN8bGTyfhH22G9wwxHHipk-HEWq7TFiIvPpuC2eL0nFP4qKHQ7ilUHzWiTC5UXIjLif_iWIbSnqYictsMYAKoL3JdJnFZ6JhwwE_HnPhqRinhhlmQ4R3_8kfi7-y3yp34RgoKlzGBYp/s320/DSC_0036.jpg" width="213" /></a>In case any of you were unaware, yesterday was a very important day. <br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhalHBX-J7mjx_5siy2ahvvcVvVBWyJRdjsK0d6YIQj8sZ1aeE4zkU3xFQ2JlCIKoTl2Xo4dfd6SJ9b69c50OprlBfw7HOk9GvQBz_nbeR96oJ4zv6bO2KpGuGNYvjWbTkMawJEcx5030j7/s1600/DSC_0054.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhalHBX-J7mjx_5siy2ahvvcVvVBWyJRdjsK0d6YIQj8sZ1aeE4zkU3xFQ2JlCIKoTl2Xo4dfd6SJ9b69c50OprlBfw7HOk9GvQBz_nbeR96oJ4zv6bO2KpGuGNYvjWbTkMawJEcx5030j7/s320/DSC_0054.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You know those little booties they<br />
make for newborn babies? Well they're<br />
like that, but man-sized! They're<br />
man-sized baby booties!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Yesterday, our very favorite Chilean adventurer, Colin Dunham, turned 21 years old!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
To make up for have to celebrate it far from family and (most) friends, we tried to make it as special as possible, and everyone pitched in! <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
For starters, just after midnight, when it officially became May 29th, Colin's host family showed up at the door to his bedroom singing the Chilean version of happy birthday and carrying presents. They got him a cozy <i>chaleco</i> (sweater/jacket), and Mama Patty made hand-knit slippers to keep Colin's toesies warm around the house. They are precious.<br />
<br />
In case you were wondering, the Spanish<br />
version of Happy Birthday goes like this:<br />
<br />
<i>Cumpleaños feliz,</i><br />
<i>deseamos a ti.</i><br />
<i>Feliz cumpleaños a Colin</i>,<br />
<i>que los cumplas feliz! </i><br />
<br />
Next, after a good night's sleep, Colin and I met up an hour before class to head to the mall. We went to Dunkin' Donuts, because Colin wanted to share his birthday celebration with our whole class! Unfortunately, the guy working there let us sit around and wait for twenty minutes before he told us that they wouldn't be open until 11:00--exactly when our class starts. <i>Fome. </i>(Lame.) Luckily, we didn't<br />
get too bored, because I used that time to give Colin his birthday present!<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipfy4JO4xqgl3bjnVrw7W3z6AoEu-vSBpu5UjkEoCBG3kAcOJ_OID_fKkAo96Im9UI_0uHVg3T-Brf81M58Qg6dPejw0e8Ipuy0sHTfehCj6Blxnk-lFblGBkoKQRnUwkkBaUuKOIgDsap/s1600/IMG_1737.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipfy4JO4xqgl3bjnVrw7W3z6AoEu-vSBpu5UjkEoCBG3kAcOJ_OID_fKkAo96Im9UI_0uHVg3T-Brf81M58Qg6dPejw0e8Ipuy0sHTfehCj6Blxnk-lFblGBkoKQRnUwkkBaUuKOIgDsap/s320/IMG_1737.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Candy, candy, and more candy!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Not to be discouraged by the fact that Dunkin' Donuts was closed, we stopped at a little shop on the way to class and Colin bought our classmates muffins and orange juice instead. We were all very appreciative of both the food and the temporary distraction from normal class. Our good friend Charlene even bought Colin a Mickey Mouse crown to wear so that everyone would know he was <i>el rey del día</i> (king of the day)! <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz9NF9CPQqx5cj_kaFUtJrz0WNi3i5VESAC7PMFv8nKWPReuQLSQ7m1tYr8jxzd7XqQkdYZltkOwg-KWadx4cc3Eepk3ghr3CtBYLX_wgCb5I8UlHzmal7IckL6o8AS6XnsnnpapDtRU2R/s1600/DSC_0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz9NF9CPQqx5cj_kaFUtJrz0WNi3i5VESAC7PMFv8nKWPReuQLSQ7m1tYr8jxzd7XqQkdYZltkOwg-KWadx4cc3Eepk3ghr3CtBYLX_wgCb5I8UlHzmal7IckL6o8AS6XnsnnpapDtRU2R/s320/DSC_0001.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Charlene's so awesome, she even wrote 21 on Colin's crown!<br />
(It's not quite as big a deal when the drinking age is 18...)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnMuX5rVU_fE-JXF3T9-7exK4rSH6h4_oSfJr7l8WBzO1a2Mj4hrKzyNMi7bDvltaHMwHxAcRdFtyvcyPhaH5M9U0uiVdJyz-eA4t5FctQFx9p2UIJQo84S2km2F8MeVTLxm_WZLMNQdjb/s1600/PicMonkey+Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnMuX5rVU_fE-JXF3T9-7exK4rSH6h4_oSfJr7l8WBzO1a2Mj4hrKzyNMi7bDvltaHMwHxAcRdFtyvcyPhaH5M9U0uiVdJyz-eA4t5FctQFx9p2UIJQo84S2km2F8MeVTLxm_WZLMNQdjb/s400/PicMonkey+Collage.jpg" width="190" /></a>After our first class, Colin and I stopped at Mango's Cafe to drink tea, eat croissants, and relax before heading back for our <i>Ortofonía</i> test. Colin invited all of our classmates to his birthday lunch, so after our test, several of us walked to Pizza Hut--Colin's restaurant of choice. We met up with Hilary and Charlene, who had gone <u>back</u> to the store in an attempt to find a <i>piñata</i>. When they couldn't find one, they decided not only to each get him a thoughtful birthday present, but also to buy party favors for the rest of us! (And let me tell you, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups are DE-licious.) So we spent the afternoon enjoying deliciously American pizza and some great company. <br />
<br />
<br />
When our last class of the day ended, Colin and I headed back to his house for <i>torta</i> (cake) and <i>once</i>. Enro was excited to see Colin drinking a Heineken with <i>once</i>, but unfortunately I only planned for Colin's one drink on his birthday, so Enro had to get his own beer instead. Maka picked out a <i>tres leches</i> (three milks) cake, and it was delicious. Mama Patty managed to fit 21 candles on it, and Colin successfully blew them all out in one try.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjF-mxoGVNiOXMdWx4VwTSNPEpAhpyf9StxuEy9V7JeNJgcR_s_YRRPKgcjODBFxor3WB1YQfsV4Uf8vM8p02xauVGpBa9PUA7qRrfdHsK2UtiAaPsih9Wtn8nvd6-kS49S7ZFY8PAgWUc/s1600/Birthday+Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjF-mxoGVNiOXMdWx4VwTSNPEpAhpyf9StxuEy9V7JeNJgcR_s_YRRPKgcjODBFxor3WB1YQfsV4Uf8vM8p02xauVGpBa9PUA7qRrfdHsK2UtiAaPsih9Wtn8nvd6-kS49S7ZFY8PAgWUc/s640/Birthday+Collage.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">21 Candles... but did he make a wish?</td></tr>
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On top of his Chilean celebration, Facebook, email, and Skype brought Colin's friends and family from 5000 miles away a little closer to us, and I think it was a pretty good day all around.<br />
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Happy Birthday, Colin Dunham.<br />
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-Rachel<span class="st"><i><br /></i></span>Rachel Davenporthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07114485023775563678noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622104096545081487.post-54407486965109083262012-05-26T17:04:00.002-04:002012-05-26T17:04:37.958-04:00Home is where they speak Spanish, everyday.Not to be outdone, I will now tell you about the absolute best host family, any <i>gringo</i> could ever wish for. Let me introduce ya'll to the <i>Agurto-Argandoña </i>family!<div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDGhOzg_7oPhUQjMN8wfJJDmqkAr9Zr-AE_6hV29-OsOmoHqXh0ff-TTRJzIyJ6ml5-TuQEVkWuQQHPXnoomSrh35iDobNgX44_kucNabMzJjo90-z2C7kgqPs06_HgAGnWqTZOv5ANBie/s1600/DSC_0040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDGhOzg_7oPhUQjMN8wfJJDmqkAr9Zr-AE_6hV29-OsOmoHqXh0ff-TTRJzIyJ6ml5-TuQEVkWuQQHPXnoomSrh35iDobNgX44_kucNabMzJjo90-z2C7kgqPs06_HgAGnWqTZOv5ANBie/s400/DSC_0040.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Patty, Enro, Maka, and Enrique in Maitencillo. </td></tr>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">La Madre: Patricia (Patty)</span></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMh99nFPrgVId3hJL-3AL0rmGxjbTntowYoIhLHdzBUdWTR6TCfc_olh1XcBAfQoczJ_JSwjjS0N7Hs99FCbUpl42UmUwkVZbRYgFlJ2vsgu0Un6rk7xsipq9zdJ15f_ON0j4qWks0E6bS/s1600/DSC05278.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMh99nFPrgVId3hJL-3AL0rmGxjbTntowYoIhLHdzBUdWTR6TCfc_olh1XcBAfQoczJ_JSwjjS0N7Hs99FCbUpl42UmUwkVZbRYgFlJ2vsgu0Un6rk7xsipq9zdJ15f_ON0j4qWks0E6bS/s320/DSC05278.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKjvRnsZ9M9YEf1aZrizeszT18Jj6wGuzTnZJ_eqtajjrstNE8c6ZbMr7RlZnkqnrVX-uif1zWZyHNN54NqctL9-ee7hq1AE7KKQqakFdluacDuIkBhXodynvt05Q3L1JZ80nUVK_F9tuL/s1600/DSC_0079.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKjvRnsZ9M9YEf1aZrizeszT18Jj6wGuzTnZJ_eqtajjrstNE8c6ZbMr7RlZnkqnrVX-uif1zWZyHNN54NqctL9-ee7hq1AE7KKQqakFdluacDuIkBhXodynvt05Q3L1JZ80nUVK_F9tuL/s320/DSC_0079.jpg" width="320" /></a>My Chilean host mother is the sweetest person ever. She has never failed to smile and make me feel at home since the day I arrived. She always greets me with a <i>beso</i> on my cheek and every night before I go to sleep, she says "<i>que amanezcas bien.</i>" (This translates literally to something like "that you dawn well," but of course she's always hoping that I get up well-rested and ready for another day in Chile.) Sweet though she may be, Momma Patty is not without her motherly instruction. More than once I've been reminded of proper eating etiquette at the table. Usually it's that I'm trying to saw a piece of meat in half with the edge of my fork and she gently (or not-so-gently) reminds me that knives exist with a strong "<i>Hijo, un cuchillo por favor.</i>" (Son, a knife please!) And there's always the "¡<i>No se hace aquí en Chile!</i>" which means that whatever I'm doing at the time shouldn't be done in Chile.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">
Momma Patty works at <i>La Universidad Técnica Federico Santa María</i> as the personal secretary to some collegiate bigwig. I know she works hard because she always leaves before 8 in the morning and usually doesn't return until 7-8 in the evening. And she's always, ALWAYS dressed to impress. </div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">El Padre: Enrique</span></i></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYnO1JrZLwIPYruIcBRL-Up0bi-wGGwTysUVBiVEFtGY3B18JYSg8ayCmq4cAYL-UApEuBZYQXvTnqnkzpJbXU9Xo0DMU0uIFQWzECgt0Ck1By-tvqYgSiqiem-JHEoVVikw7S1963eg7Q/s1600/DSC_0108.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYnO1JrZLwIPYruIcBRL-Up0bi-wGGwTysUVBiVEFtGY3B18JYSg8ayCmq4cAYL-UApEuBZYQXvTnqnkzpJbXU9Xo0DMU0uIFQWzECgt0Ck1By-tvqYgSiqiem-JHEoVVikw7S1963eg7Q/s400/DSC_0108.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Perhaps my favorite picture of him. </td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
My Chilean dad is a neat individual. He's kind of like School of Hard Knocks meets ..... well, no he's pretty similar to School of Hard Knocks. Very often my siblings will begin a conversation from which ensues a quasi-argument between them and my Chilean dad wherein he has the benefit of experience on his side. I do a lot of listening when he talks, and from what I can tell he's not unlike any other dad: "back in my day..... kids these days..... why, my generation had to....." </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaPRBxLRtpBgZmDihdKBIxjlJrnnSMUP_hxvZrS-kgHYjW0Ccpc-BuFsWDykQRbfnjEj0cPlijs_ElJCHwm2akFa0HgGKj1o4byE4DLbFJLTfy3VAi1SH1nkewQUpdWr-xz4Ktye9RY6r-/s1600/DSC05306.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaPRBxLRtpBgZmDihdKBIxjlJrnnSMUP_hxvZrS-kgHYjW0Ccpc-BuFsWDykQRbfnjEj0cPlijs_ElJCHwm2akFa0HgGKj1o4byE4DLbFJLTfy3VAi1SH1nkewQUpdWr-xz4Ktye9RY6r-/s320/DSC05306.jpg" width="220" /></a>Firm hand aside, it's easy to see that Enrique loves his children and would do anything to see them succeed. </div>
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He's always been nice to me and always tries to </div>
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correct my only-to-often grammatical errors so </div>
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that I don't look stupid in front of the rest of the world. </div>
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<i>Enrique</i> has two jobs. He is a Veterinarian (dealing mostly with cats and dogs), and he's also a professor of veterinary medicine at <i>La Universidad Viña del Mar</i>. He leaves for classes at about 9 in the morning, coming home to have lunch with my siblings and me at 2, and then goes to his clinic every afternoon where he stays until usually 7-8 in the evening. </div>
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Fun fact: <i>Enrique</i> likes spicy food and is always trying to get me to put some spicy sauce in my food. The one time he succeeded in convincing me it would be good, I felt like I had drank lava! Thus ended Colin accepting food suggestions from <i>mi papá</i>. </div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">El Hermano: Enrique (Enro)</span></i></div>
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My Chilean brother is awesome. The day I arrived he was the first person to let me know that if I ever needed anything, I could call him at anytime. <i>Enro</i> also speaks excellent English. During the first few weeks it wasn't uncommon for me to use him as a translator at times when I wasn't sure if my point was coming across exactly as I wanted it to, but things have gotten better. In fact, I usually try not to speak to him in English since that wouldn't help me learn spanish.</div>
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<i>Enro</i> is a whole month older than me and was very excited about this fact, since they've never had a <i>gringo</i> who was younger than him. He is also a university student at <i>La Universidad de Andrés Bello</i>. He was at a different university, but switched just as I arrived. I think he likes it okay. He is studying <i>Ingeniería de Administración de Empresas, mención de Finanzas</i>. I believe this is similar to Business Administration with a minor in Finance. </div>
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Apart from school, my host brother loves soccer with a passion. He's also a self-taught guitarist and pianist, and like any college aged boy, he plays videogames. I really lucked out with having a host brother that is similar in age to me. When I arrived he spent two days showing me how to navigate the city's mass transit systems and labyrinth of streets, and never refuses to help me with my grammar as well. </div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">La Hermana: Macarena (Maka)</span></i></div>
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My Chilean sister is quite the character. They tell me she understands English and can speak fairly well, but she never does because she's a little embarrassed about her abilities. (I always think to myself "has she heard me speak Spanish?!") Either way, she's pretty fun. She's always very animated when she's telling us stories at the dinner table and she likes to mischievously pester her dad on a regular basis. <i>Maka</i> loves sushi! (<i>Enro</i> does too, he just doesn't mention it as much.)</div>
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<i>Maka</i> attends the same university where her mom works: <i>La Universidad Técnica Federico Santa María</i>. She's always telling me how bad the stairs are to get up to class, and after having walked <b>down</b> them once, I'm inclined to agree with her about the going up part. (No need to experience it myself, of course.) I do know that she is studying <i>Ingeniería Diseño de Productos</i> (Product design management?), and that the education riots last year put her behind a bit. </div>
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<i>Maka</i> is the colorful one of the family. She always wears bright nail polish, an assortment of earrings and her fashion sense is always <i>de la moda</i>. I'm glad I have a little sister replacement here, although she's usually the one picking on me!</div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">La Nana: Isabel (Nana)</span></i></div>
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Having <i>Nana</i> makes me spoiled. Well, the word used here in Chile is <i>cuico</i>, but let's not talk about that. I wish I knew a little more about <i>Nana</i>, but unfortunately I don't. I do know that she's been with this family for quite sometime (13ish years?) and she's part of the family. Now, I can't comment on what having a maid/nanny is like in the states but here it means that <i>Nana</i> works Monday through Saturday making our food, sweeping our floors, cleaning all the rooms, and doing laundry. My favorite thing about her is that she talks to the plants. When I asked my host parents about this, they assured me that <i>Nana</i> wasn't going crazy, rather just encouraging the plants to grow and be strong!</div>
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Like I said, I don't know that much about <i>Nana</i> since we don't talk very much. She speaks exceptionally fast and with a little bit of a dialect I don't quite understand. And for my part, my Spanish might as well be Chinese sometimes to her. We do manage to communicate the important things like "Do you have class today, should I pack you lunch?" and "Remember I change the sheets on Mondays so don't make your bed."<i> </i>(Yeah, I don't let <i>Nana</i> make my bed. I guess I'm not <b>totally</b> spoiled.) </div>
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These are the people who I've had the privilege of living with and getting to know for about three months now. They're loving, zany, argumentative, and funny. They're my family.</div>
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And we won't say they're better than anyone else's host family-- or at least not out loud. :)</div>
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-Colin</div>
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622104096545081487.post-15110359808473700912012-05-21T22:33:00.000-04:002012-05-22T22:34:33.368-04:00Home is where there are people who love you<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The best host mom in the world!</td></tr>
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Now that it's been over two and a half months, I figure it's time for ya'll to "meet" my Chilean family! <br />
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First and foremost comes Mama Lorena. My host mom is the best one anyone could ask for. (Don't ask Colin though, he's pretty partial to Mama Patty...) Since the very first day I showed up when she greeted me with hugs and kisses at her door, she has never failed to ask me how I'm doing, how my day was, how classes are going, what my plans are, and most importantly, if I'm hungry. Every day. Several times a day. It goes without saying that it would be impossible for me to ever go hungry here, thanks to Mama Lorena. In fact, quite often I have more than I could possibly eat, since apparently the word "no" has no meaning here. That, or secretly it means "yes, please."<br />
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Let me give you an example:<br />
*here I am, seated at a typical lunch in my house, table set, food in front of me, ready to eat.*<br />
"Do you need anything, <i>hija</i>?"<br />
"No, Mama, everything looks good."<br />
"Are you sure? We have more meat if you want it..."<br />
"No that's ok, this will be plenty."<br />
"But you didn't eat very much for breakfast this morning."<br />
"Don't worry, I'm not terribly hungry."<br />
"Well... I'll just bring it out for you, just in case."<br />
*at which point she brings a little plate just for me with some more meat on it, with extra silverware and another napkin just in case.* <br />
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Now, I'm not complaining, but it does make me laugh.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3VpFrUv6E5dyVxUz_zqJ3tI5y3puUUHLjbh0nymkTHEhZmpCYLjkBaJ3vyOleKEUDyzjZpzbeMtWM_Wmp8vW-byB1dbYsAXoC5wJdwX74MK-A0PTNzdqgwZJJ5hoB2vdZfWIopSBMbvxF/s1600/IMG_1702.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3VpFrUv6E5dyVxUz_zqJ3tI5y3puUUHLjbh0nymkTHEhZmpCYLjkBaJ3vyOleKEUDyzjZpzbeMtWM_Wmp8vW-byB1dbYsAXoC5wJdwX74MK-A0PTNzdqgwZJJ5hoB2vdZfWIopSBMbvxF/s320/IMG_1702.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On top of taking care of the family, <br />
Mama Lorena finds time to do fun things<br />
like go ziplining! </td></tr>
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When she's not making me delicious Chilean food for lunch, Lorena spends most of the rest of her day washing/drying/ironing our clothes, sweeping/mopping the floor, dusting, or washing dishes. How three people can make enough work to fill entire days, I'll never know. But then, I've never lived with Sidney before.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ZpGwrKJCk2HGEFxc-BepT8tHCu67sJiljw5Q7Si8XgLgl8FXihzL8Qy8_G3-k2V0-rsgI4TaDQ8nYQzFpc3Q4nLP5At12tazHhWPKsdBOqHxuyKhRxSrieN1LiuZBAwK_uqPXm9gdmSu/s1600/Familia+%283%29.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ZpGwrKJCk2HGEFxc-BepT8tHCu67sJiljw5Q7Si8XgLgl8FXihzL8Qy8_G3-k2V0-rsgI4TaDQ8nYQzFpc3Q4nLP5At12tazHhWPKsdBOqHxuyKhRxSrieN1LiuZBAwK_uqPXm9gdmSu/s400/Familia+%283%29.JPG" width="310" /></a><br />
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My host brother, Sidney, is 27 years old and a kinesiologist. Besides being a great host brother, he's also a walking tornado who could probably create enough housework for five people! He works most afternoons doing physical therapy with his patients, all of whom are over 60 years old. He's currently trying to spend his nights studying for a class that will certify him to do some other kind of therapy, but I'm not sure specifically. However, just like any good Chilean man, when there's a <i>futbol</i> game on, not even food can tear him away from the TV. <br />
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Like I said though, he's a great brother, and a fountain of knowledge for the confused foreigner living in his house. He invited Colin and I to his birthday party back in March, where we met his best friend, Francisco. The four of us have gotten together a few times to play Wii and had a blast together!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYlHHvhENVZidAasHc7sCpRx_ylYT6HqZixvhaawFr_c8a9QO5DAedo8MYWXFXkAVsfS_qlAzlKu-MIozxCO1-py972fU85WiTLqHQ_9ZeHnTxp2SAETkAZ3thY0CIfSd3EwlZoVouOO71/s1600/Wii+con+Sidney.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="348" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYlHHvhENVZidAasHc7sCpRx_ylYT6HqZixvhaawFr_c8a9QO5DAedo8MYWXFXkAVsfS_qlAzlKu-MIozxCO1-py972fU85WiTLqHQ_9ZeHnTxp2SAETkAZ3thY0CIfSd3EwlZoVouOO71/s640/Wii+con+Sidney.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Knowing Sidney and Lorena, it doesn't surprise me that my "extended family" is equally welcoming and friendly. As I mentioned in the post about our trip to Patagonia, Lorena's daughter Loli and her family pretty much literally took us in off the street one night. Not many people are blessed to find themselves among friends 1400 miles from a place that's already 5000 miles from home, but Loli, Pablo, Benjamin, and Sofia welcomed us with open arms, fed us, talked to us, and even played play-doh with us before they drove us to the airport and sent us on our way back "home."<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHbx6p4rf3LCJyaa2ggi29eS4nZ10JdCGq72v0DbI8kfJLUvMWyf_Hpt1C89J7Iutte9EGAfa3H33XnD3QJcxCFtigqyIJLcCzLUWYIn3Ycrtaka34IytNjzutFYMtw7eR8A6yOzgAtzhO/s1600/DSC_0285.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="364" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHbx6p4rf3LCJyaa2ggi29eS4nZ10JdCGq72v0DbI8kfJLUvMWyf_Hpt1C89J7Iutte9EGAfa3H33XnD3QJcxCFtigqyIJLcCzLUWYIn3Ycrtaka34IytNjzutFYMtw7eR8A6yOzgAtzhO/s640/DSC_0285.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loli, Sofia, Benjamin, and Pablo, who took in six gringos far from home</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6AwV9a3QKRlJaVpGM0PREqXA7mb72HT-EiGxEWYvMTRKlaVCaexyJSb5WmkiGJ35pU-aiHgmxm6M1KSebFpp-OIA_wDFw1B-1VCGgQGGSPEpATMVo3c1-RcCW7271t3aZ6a-Cu9JCpwvu/s1600/IMG_1650.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6AwV9a3QKRlJaVpGM0PREqXA7mb72HT-EiGxEWYvMTRKlaVCaexyJSb5WmkiGJ35pU-aiHgmxm6M1KSebFpp-OIA_wDFw1B-1VCGgQGGSPEpATMVo3c1-RcCW7271t3aZ6a-Cu9JCpwvu/s320/IMG_1650.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sofia and I make the BEST play-doh animals! </td></tr>
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And not just the younger generation is welcoming. For Mother's Day, Mama Lorena and I went to <i>Los Andes</i> to spend the day with her parents. My "grandparents" also welcomed me into their home, took me to lunch, and wouldn't take no for an answer to anything. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5PYJaa_vuSu-DdEpP6Bu-OuqqEqKchlKqJ_9YFWTWGfZYUsVO76-IjpQv6dmcgh2HEmPu9w6ysOPJ4Bfs6O1Qo05DK7hUTqdSN3hpRcgsiE6eb-7hk4IG5iogxcQb2Q2T6cHjcgCxA4fG/s1600/IMG_1709.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5PYJaa_vuSu-DdEpP6Bu-OuqqEqKchlKqJ_9YFWTWGfZYUsVO76-IjpQv6dmcgh2HEmPu9w6ysOPJ4Bfs6O1Qo05DK7hUTqdSN3hpRcgsiE6eb-7hk4IG5iogxcQb2Q2T6cHjcgCxA4fG/s640/IMG_1709.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and the <i>abuelitos</i>, plus Mama Lorena's neice, Isadora </td></tr>
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In short, I couldn't ask for a better Chilean family. I have been truly blessed in knowing them, and they have made this place a home away from home. <br />
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With love from Chile,<br />
RachelRachel Davenporthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07114485023775563678noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622104096545081487.post-23323340641000396482012-05-14T23:39:00.002-04:002012-05-14T23:48:41.774-04:00Government, minus a dictator.It's hard to think about getting back into "school mode" when you have just seen mountains, but unfortunately we had to. After a day of rest, we continued our week with classes like normal. Somewhat of a cultural shock came Tuesday night when our professor announced that he would be changing the class time each week. We were upset about this, because Rachel worked rather hard to assure that we would not have classes on Monday or Friday. However, change it he did. We now have half the class on Monday at 12:20pm and the other half on Tuesday at 6:00pm (the original time). The reason he did this was to make it easier for more of our classmates to attend. Firstly, they shouldn't have signed up for a class they wouldn't be able to attend. Secondly, we had our first class on the new Monday time today, and there were even less people than usual. (Okay, I've now vented; but, this a very strange Chilean practice that I've never heard of in the States that I wanted to inform you all about.)<br />
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Last Friday a handful of other <i>gringos</i>, Rachel, and I had the chance to go to <i>El Congreso Nacional</i> (the Chilean legislative building). I was pretty impressed with the building itself, and also learning about Chilean government from our informative tour guide.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8MzD-bVESZenU8q1aRzk4KouRk5xHL4tJB3dSX_mjFrOcZmNgNN5xlGntdNy5NOLFRHwiPRuNIWPYl2ERZVhOV0MSCqQ9m53HAgy5JKKhcrFE-V3ao1Do5H0mvB2zhPJM0ngvWeecpvJE/s1600/Screen+shot+2012-05-14+at+10.47.03+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8MzD-bVESZenU8q1aRzk4KouRk5xHL4tJB3dSX_mjFrOcZmNgNN5xlGntdNy5NOLFRHwiPRuNIWPYl2ERZVhOV0MSCqQ9m53HAgy5JKKhcrFE-V3ao1Do5H0mvB2zhPJM0ngvWeecpvJE/s400/Screen+shot+2012-05-14+at+10.47.03+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
In general, Chile's government is very similar to that of the U.S. They have a President (executive branch), bicameral congress (legislative branch), and a supreme court (judicial branch) although I'm pretty sure the supreme court is independent of the other parts of government. Within congress you have <i>los senadores</i> (senators) and <i>los diputados</i> (deputies-very similar to representatives.) There are 38 senators and 120 <i>diputados</i> of varying parties. Fun Fact #1: the congress building is located in <i>Valparaíso</i> because that's where the ex-dictator of Chile, Augusto Pinochet, put it and they left it there ever after.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTVOPL9q5-2zq1djCGfbcSvrLFpqWveKkGyOwFBdSGFLwoypK3x_R4EPoB2mBicph5nq3o-s8okcR9nDFpbEQWZMYzwi8V4c_858ZW8xrXV6LmIws-lU7T3RxJr2b_xD63G8MaEhtFmSBG/s1600/Screen+shot+2012-05-14+at+10.49.35+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="127" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTVOPL9q5-2zq1djCGfbcSvrLFpqWveKkGyOwFBdSGFLwoypK3x_R4EPoB2mBicph5nq3o-s8okcR9nDFpbEQWZMYzwi8V4c_858ZW8xrXV6LmIws-lU7T3RxJr2b_xD63G8MaEhtFmSBG/s400/Screen+shot+2012-05-14+at+10.49.35+PM.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">two rooms, two parts of congress, not (two) terribly different looking.</td></tr>
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These days the Republic of Chile is a pretty tranquil place, politically speaking. Sure there are riots about varying problems every now and then, but overall I hear Chile is one of the (if not <u>the</u>) safest South American countries. For a more complete history and background on Chilean government, click <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chile" target="_blank">here</a>. ;)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCwmez-dXQI_Zt-ww7Duf10vHAyD1zls5HRH5mpglK3eaNzRNGOW9hz_OPKzbJJOoaIBZtk7vk6zKjWqxmLNmyAqMbHGcpWpGKUed4YggsTrrzGNgFnZP1DrNKth1iX4sI7OUBf5oeG1Jw/s1600/DSC_0026.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCwmez-dXQI_Zt-ww7Duf10vHAyD1zls5HRH5mpglK3eaNzRNGOW9hz_OPKzbJJOoaIBZtk7vk6zKjWqxmLNmyAqMbHGcpWpGKUed4YggsTrrzGNgFnZP1DrNKth1iX4sI7OUBf5oeG1Jw/s640/DSC_0026.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A (copy) proclamation sent to Spain declaring the independence of Chile!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0z8M2IHxr_P8ovJ4G0KQ4QMvbdQYRMMLIjCLnZUpdQzAaSuqlYFgz1De0_6qAZWDdp2xsEMGpL9HwE-yHIgM6erwDFk9P7rTrt8nuAWLrV7mTzUYyjaU-u67H72MGbKmIm_yF2EDx1XXc/s1600/DSC_0024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0z8M2IHxr_P8ovJ4G0KQ4QMvbdQYRMMLIjCLnZUpdQzAaSuqlYFgz1De0_6qAZWDdp2xsEMGpL9HwE-yHIgM6erwDFk9P7rTrt8nuAWLrV7mTzUYyjaU-u67H72MGbKmIm_yF2EDx1XXc/s400/DSC_0024.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the signature of "the liberator." read all about him, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bernardo_OHiggins" target="_blank">here</a>.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrAjVDNdoNDVhegUglWPnscb4ogy19UQyZNCy1TyI2Klr-ie6AscbNajiDQQUb4oKRyPpFigLPqOjLIE6MiFYXT9fJsJRAoAClsqFZ6snX5-pquyT8Avk3rh5WuPr68-Y-hYhP8ZPxICuZ/s1600/DSC_0082.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrAjVDNdoNDVhegUglWPnscb4ogy19UQyZNCy1TyI2Klr-ie6AscbNajiDQQUb4oKRyPpFigLPqOjLIE6MiFYXT9fJsJRAoAClsqFZ6snX5-pquyT8Avk3rh5WuPr68-Y-hYhP8ZPxICuZ/s400/DSC_0082.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh-so-many stairs to get to the top. the price of an education.</td></tr>
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The rest of the day we spent wandering around <i>Valparaíso</i> and walking back to <i>Viña del Mar</i>. We did stop along the way to visit <i>Universidad Técnica Federico Santa María</i>, where my host mom works, and my host sister attends. This university is beautiful. My sister told me that the majority of the students there are on scholarship or have loans. We enjoyed wandering the campus and taking pictures before heading home.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixtM_IUp-fWGlPno6bWWdn7NAWe5wbpQoS5q_FO3XtBNL5JlAYF8OEEQUTTg29X0hjjU9MYouZAn9aZrMAMQmKapLZ48sCTdj3LWyh5KbzpV3smZzocWtXOSFHpv2_qZdYBxTh7KabYyuI/s1600/DSC_0080.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixtM_IUp-fWGlPno6bWWdn7NAWe5wbpQoS5q_FO3XtBNL5JlAYF8OEEQUTTg29X0hjjU9MYouZAn9aZrMAMQmKapLZ48sCTdj3LWyh5KbzpV3smZzocWtXOSFHpv2_qZdYBxTh7KabYyuI/s400/DSC_0080.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></td></tr>
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Saturday morning we had to get up at some ungodly hour (7am) in order to catch a bus at 8:15 to go to <i>La Campana</i>, yet another national park! This place was gorgeous. I would say it was known for its palm trees, but our guide also boasted about the high(ish) mountain that is also visible in the park. The trek wasn't very hard and our group of <i>gringos</i> had more fun talking and taking silly pictures with each other. It was a wonderful trip, although we didn't have enough time in my opinion.<br />
Fun Fact #2: Palm trees aren't really trees at all, but rather grass the grows together tightly intertwined.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTqLGSWFhz796sf6T4hkzBjAkDPo2qCJcQuPhLckhPCPCHa1g_MkM6dSUMYmvTQVLLG0ZqXkedB2O-1AcDPMztIabRGIAQjgoXuJsZ0vSgT1XW5JuBOgQmfhgrvKzPMHo46O_G-ydGQhdV/s1600/DSC_0059.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTqLGSWFhz796sf6T4hkzBjAkDPo2qCJcQuPhLckhPCPCHa1g_MkM6dSUMYmvTQVLLG0ZqXkedB2O-1AcDPMztIabRGIAQjgoXuJsZ0vSgT1XW5JuBOgQmfhgrvKzPMHo46O_G-ydGQhdV/s640/DSC_0059.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Palm <strike>Trees</strike> everywhere! Our guide said it always reminded him of Jurassic Park.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSB2ydE1D3Hx-3Ky71DRUjehbvFhD6cZjtXiKfvB8pLTdPPjSSXloCljLFvGQXzwv0COcjCFJAyLxM_xE1T97QXfx9jzv_zoKTq1TXO4xxgC6FFmPoRiNJYmZU7iTHgTmFJQPvr4QUfpvL/s1600/550911_3899740179020_1444644942_33498723_503554683_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="486" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSB2ydE1D3Hx-3Ky71DRUjehbvFhD6cZjtXiKfvB8pLTdPPjSSXloCljLFvGQXzwv0COcjCFJAyLxM_xE1T97QXfx9jzv_zoKTq1TXO4xxgC6FFmPoRiNJYmZU7iTHgTmFJQPvr4QUfpvL/s640/550911_3899740179020_1444644942_33498723_503554683_n.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Speaking of Jurassic Park..... (I did say we took silly pictures, did I not?)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhljHJ9Sx2dqoUX9POZ85rQa2p2063TrFZcdYYe0q3mi9ZpaKCuWESchEcHf6UTGBF8r97ugnkaMDUc7qH21Br3x0zwNS4mwAzG4-xGfqkkPYoDRLiYnjCzjZ4tJU3c2gjZRZxhP8k6iSzu/s1600/DSC_0020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhljHJ9Sx2dqoUX9POZ85rQa2p2063TrFZcdYYe0q3mi9ZpaKCuWESchEcHf6UTGBF8r97ugnkaMDUc7qH21Br3x0zwNS4mwAzG4-xGfqkkPYoDRLiYnjCzjZ4tJU3c2gjZRZxhP8k6iSzu/s640/DSC_0020.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nobody loves a Palm <strike>Tree</strike> like Rachel loves a Palm <strike>Tree</strike>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
After we returned from the park, I went with my host family to Santiago to celebrate Mother's Day with my host dad's family. I had a wonderful time, and what's more, the extended family told me that I spoke Spanish very well. I was even able to get a cousin (12 year old Nacho) to teach me some useful Chilean slang. All in all we had a fabulous time and I was really glad to meet my host dad's family, especially his mother.<br />
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We are back to school again this week, but are perhaps thinking about traveling since we have a long weekend coming up. Either way we'll keep ya'll posted.<br />
<br />
And a very special shout-out to our friend <a href="http://kristenmakingmesses.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Kristen Clingan</a>, who is in Honduras on a medical mission trip! Both Rachel and I are very proud of you and are praying for your success. (Just promise me you'll try and speak Spanish to everyone you meet!)<br />
<br />
-ColinUnknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622104096545081487.post-61803073861247646922012-05-11T08:15:00.000-04:002012-05-11T08:15:13.951-04:00The Patagonia Adventure<b><span style="font-size: large;">The Adventurers: </span></b><br />
Me and Colin, obvi. Also, Hilary Gibson, who goes to OU, Katie Fialko, from Colorado, and Charlene Melindo and Sara Lebowitz, who are from New York.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiacXG9jXDL0VUjbACLz2gcLxxjrMJpGJEthOet1I-snfNsb4p8EMPSj9m092o_1mdxU7mDhy_kKll1GDz9UB2wRXvUGT6PTQ1GyGgr0V5lviMJYhRJ1_7UVS5MhNUvjYPXJ8VIwBvvcGHA/s1600/IMG_1496.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiacXG9jXDL0VUjbACLz2gcLxxjrMJpGJEthOet1I-snfNsb4p8EMPSj9m092o_1mdxU7mDhy_kKll1GDz9UB2wRXvUGT6PTQ1GyGgr0V5lviMJYhRJ1_7UVS5MhNUvjYPXJ8VIwBvvcGHA/s640/IMG_1496.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hilary, Sara, Charlene, Katie, Colin, and me!</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">The Plan:</span></b><br />
1) Have a blast. <br />
2) Go with the flow. Things will not go as planned. Guaranteed. <br />
3) Overestimate. Unexpected costs will pop up, and the trip will probably cost more than anticipated. <br />
4) Have a blast.<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;">The Adventure:</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Wednesday:</span></b></div>
After a day of frantic packing and buying last-minute necessities (like toilet paper, which we almost forgot), the six of us met up at the bus station in Viña to start our trip. First, we had to take a bus to Santiago, where we would get off at the bus terminal at Pajaritos and catch another to the airport. Unplanned event number one happened when, as we were getting on the bus, the conductor told us he only stopped at Las Rejas, not Pajaritos. It's ok, breathe... It's Santiago, there's bound to be public transportation. At Las Rejas, we went into the metro station and after looking a lot like lost tourists with giant backpacks on, a metro guard let us ride free to Pajaritos. Lucky break number one.<br />
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Unplanned event number two: It turns out when you show up at a bus terminal at 11:45pm, you should probably expect it to be closed. Fortunately, there was a taxi waiting on the curb who was willing to fit all of us and our backpacks in his car for $4 apiece. After that, the arrival went smoothly. We checked in, checked our bags, and headed to Dunkin' Donuts to kill a few hours while we waited for our 1:50am flight.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHAEi2eSlhgdWAg-tbzdpBqZD49WX48oY6N03FUKoJyIoqZP0mXWFThbVTxT5ootUxtzGqZd0X6ZYywk2rFR5Nt8Fr_u7TXHmb4bt5sdXDtGDjMAThFstG1CNpWZqXCDEuRcvwH_TnWMOl/s1600/IMG_1490.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHAEi2eSlhgdWAg-tbzdpBqZD49WX48oY6N03FUKoJyIoqZP0mXWFThbVTxT5ootUxtzGqZd0X6ZYywk2rFR5Nt8Fr_u7TXHmb4bt5sdXDtGDjMAThFstG1CNpWZqXCDEuRcvwH_TnWMOl/s320/IMG_1490.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colin and Katie at Dunkin' Donuts in the airport</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6B3KY7WjIAT7EQUoR3DrBBKnUEoe0eCFMdXVyyLze6-tWQUJ2phI0zUDJOIo-oATpuOcRHZ-9nUDp39ZiFYNj239sHNnFVTwEVKiD9DitaoM3FpG7UiYE6oYmrKSO5gu1iBG4vClv7NsF/s1600/IMG_1491.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6B3KY7WjIAT7EQUoR3DrBBKnUEoe0eCFMdXVyyLze6-tWQUJ2phI0zUDJOIo-oATpuOcRHZ-9nUDp39ZiFYNj239sHNnFVTwEVKiD9DitaoM3FpG7UiYE6oYmrKSO5gu1iBG4vClv7NsF/s320/IMG_1491.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hilary and Charlene</td></tr>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Thursday: </span></b></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeGieeF7K3JRlbOJnx1ptqbDSype5jSbPQpIPMC6hFDBpIAKv1k4l-7bxTkRiliXAhCTjETfPmSbXPeS7XsB_9RSH7lBs8B5P0f58V7A0dgYiUqjNguvYbP2hoHsTuOkOSCeZLM41Vkgc1/s1600/IMG_1498.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeGieeF7K3JRlbOJnx1ptqbDSype5jSbPQpIPMC6hFDBpIAKv1k4l-7bxTkRiliXAhCTjETfPmSbXPeS7XsB_9RSH7lBs8B5P0f58V7A0dgYiUqjNguvYbP2hoHsTuOkOSCeZLM41Vkgc1/s400/IMG_1498.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sadly, this is probably the best sleep we got all night.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The lines between days get a little blurry when you don't sleep until 6am, but I suppose the flight was technically Thursday morning. It was uneventful, and also unrestful. We arrived in Punta Arenas at 5:15, gathered our bags, and promptly fell asleep. On benches in the airport lobby. Katie (by far the MVP of the adventure) called a bus company at 7am to ensure we would indeed be able to get to Puerto Natales, the town nearest Torres del Paine. At 8:00 we woke everyone from their oh-so-comfortable naps and all piled into our second bus in 12 hours. Three hours later, we emerged into a drizzly, cloudy Puerto Natales and began the search for transportation to the park. After walking mostly aimlessly up and down several streets worth of hostels and travel agencies, we ended up outside the <i>carabinero</i> station. This was our first experience with the famed Southern Hospitality (which, interestingly, exists in Chile as well). Two very kind <i>carabineros </i>came out and told us that the only buses to Torres del Paine leave at 8am, but they directed us to a cheap hostel that also rented the equipment we'd be needing. Lucky break number two.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhILHSuCp4Mh84Cbum2x9NVflRlHYvYdcnp1KOrLto5gCgotApnYQ6FzRVS7LbMH-2et_4MyG5waQ1WLNSXYPOVp7suoShaWhThOWpr-8VXDg4707UJtdDlYL-EeJZ_bvTmRDVCvLvLcqa1/s1600/IMG_1623.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhILHSuCp4Mh84Cbum2x9NVflRlHYvYdcnp1KOrLto5gCgotApnYQ6FzRVS7LbMH-2et_4MyG5waQ1WLNSXYPOVp7suoShaWhThOWpr-8VXDg4707UJtdDlYL-EeJZ_bvTmRDVCvLvLcqa1/s400/IMG_1623.JPG" width="400" /></a><br />
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When we arrived at Lili Patagonico's, a man named Ivan was there to welcome us in out of the drizzle. He was <i>super buena onda</i> (Chilean for "he was a really great guy.") When we had settled into our warm, cozy rooms, we headed back out to the grocery store for lunch, dinner, and camping provisions. After little to no sleep followed by wandering around in the rain, <i>crema de pollo</i> soup,<i> té</i>, and sandwiches make a pretty delicious lunch.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLN3mHYZ3oGknFhUV0dfiYigTrALqkqjWds3ZvZzxD6q5qYjvarh-duMVxVq9hpn2qdFnohpt07ohcHlZWUeMNONmxNk5-NhC1fCn-t1kUFUBK1YHgbJLfLcc_nLCL3nV15XaHIbWhLoJn/s1600/IMG_1516.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLN3mHYZ3oGknFhUV0dfiYigTrALqkqjWds3ZvZzxD6q5qYjvarh-duMVxVq9hpn2qdFnohpt07ohcHlZWUeMNONmxNk5-NhC1fCn-t1kUFUBK1YHgbJLfLcc_nLCL3nV15XaHIbWhLoJn/s400/IMG_1516.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The amount of steam coming off the bowls is directly <br />
representative of how delicious <i>crema de pollo</i> soup is. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIn3VxNIVVoVjNX1717Fed9XbGu5JgAG3viU5UnuZ7CsCZre3isIcdC3y-MM4dkJ7KIP2n1cYozV5PszTkURITPoeuTZFFv6NwgKRnO02-kwxgqgBLKRWIcE7JSoBfk9yjo55Z58TldYGV/s1600/IMG_1506.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIn3VxNIVVoVjNX1717Fed9XbGu5JgAG3viU5UnuZ7CsCZre3isIcdC3y-MM4dkJ7KIP2n1cYozV5PszTkURITPoeuTZFFv6NwgKRnO02-kwxgqgBLKRWIcE7JSoBfk9yjo55Z58TldYGV/s320/IMG_1506.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This face means: What in the world are we going to do?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After lunch, we went to the informational meeting that Ivan gave about hiking in Torres del Paine. I find it noteworthy that there were two groups at the meeting, us and some Australians, so Ivan gave one version in English and one version in Spanish. Guess who the Spanish was for! That's right, we speak Spanish! Anyway, he was super helpful and called the bus company for us to see if he could arrange something that would fit our time schedule better. We spent what felt like hours deliberating how best to spend our short time while avoiding freezing to death at night, but we finally (with Ivan's help) came up with a plan. That settled, we finally had time to nap, and nap we did.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqscYeqjlaIrZWwAEb2She_9JOnyG0LP9G3sgrbeLUfEGrU1SoGKRMijXbaWzUxipXp6FlRj5LwwVXd_b-TPewd4fRZG3PRWgz7wMh0J39Phy8ArkxxgkJhRV9aum-9w_n958NM7NPf7w-/s1600/IMG_1521.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqscYeqjlaIrZWwAEb2She_9JOnyG0LP9G3sgrbeLUfEGrU1SoGKRMijXbaWzUxipXp6FlRj5LwwVXd_b-TPewd4fRZG3PRWgz7wMh0J39Phy8ArkxxgkJhRV9aum-9w_n958NM7NPf7w-/s320/IMG_1521.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sarah and Hilary working the sandwich assembly line.</td></tr>
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As our final preparations, we made and packed thirty ham and cheese sandwiches, twelve apples, four pears, six sleeves of crackers, and two boxes of cereal for our excursion in the morning. For dinner we made spaghetti, sauce, and green beans. The taste of hot food plus the sound of pouring rain on the roof can only be made better by the thought that we had planned to be in a tent, but were instead in a warm, cozy hostel. Lucky break number three. <br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Friday:</span></b></div>
Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and... still really tired. But SO MUCH EXCITEMENT! Needless to say, after chowing down on a delicious free breakfast provided by the hostel, we all fell back asleep on our early morning, two hour bus ride. Maybe all the people in the south really are nicer, because our bus driver was awesome. After stopping for a bathroom break at the normal spot, he took advantage of the lovely weather and stopped again just so all his passengers could take pictures with the Torres in the distance. Awesome bus driver = lucky break number four.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9DBwtIxocIjknek0WSbq-p8xN_0vGHVaaua_R8yveuMKtZsZPcN2MP7DnZimFE937frJrRwFK4GzAq6eNdXc-5ZaUhSN1b1OH-AJ7tMNIfSdHFLg4JajAiiOAhhmo59otooa0pS1FN3Zt/s1600/DSC_0023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="393" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9DBwtIxocIjknek0WSbq-p8xN_0vGHVaaua_R8yveuMKtZsZPcN2MP7DnZimFE937frJrRwFK4GzAq6eNdXc-5ZaUhSN1b1OH-AJ7tMNIfSdHFLg4JajAiiOAhhmo59otooa0pS1FN3Zt/s640/DSC_0023.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We were so excited!</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiUhnJsN5YRZuYAlvzFTt5UfNb3ohpawZ1yeJUU35YgZ4SocCUaHX92q7r6bwY75N2OhZmIhdMoSB34PqhE2lR47jAoH4wuFDer_lKglxZd_k1MYybZbX-T9q_iOWDS_Uwcwl1cNadhxJH/s1600/IMG_1535.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiUhnJsN5YRZuYAlvzFTt5UfNb3ohpawZ1yeJUU35YgZ4SocCUaHX92q7r6bwY75N2OhZmIhdMoSB34PqhE2lR47jAoH4wuFDer_lKglxZd_k1MYybZbX-T9q_iOWDS_Uwcwl1cNadhxJH/s400/IMG_1535.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Katie and Colin, trekking toward our <br />
campsite... and <i>Las Torres</i>!</td></tr>
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When we arrived at the park, we got to use our Chilean ID cards to pay as Chileans instead of foreigners, so it only cost us $6.00 to get into the park. Then we commenced the two hour walk to our campsite. The views just kept getting more and more beautiful as we got closer to the mountains, so we took lots of pictures along the way. It's a good thing we had decided to make camp at the bottom of the mountain, because I don't know if the six of us plus our hiking backpacks plus our camping gear would have made it very far otherwise. As we unloaded and made camp in the warm sun on the absolutely most perfect day for hiking, it was hard to imagine the below freezing temperatures predicted for the night. Perfect weather = lucky break number five. We ate lunch at our campsite and then set off wonderfully backpack-less to hike the mountain. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1pLOpdfWklFELA-X2b36xmolv34YcIT28FCz8WblS5UQbI1Zv3c4YTcXnsBHNKXJgGa36ngdW2nGr_mOsMNpUT46v-Nr2PpRvstJsV7Qi-Y0AyjH8gqeQ2pS9B1bRIO-YmyGWeND_xupp/s1600/IMG_1541.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1pLOpdfWklFELA-X2b36xmolv34YcIT28FCz8WblS5UQbI1Zv3c4YTcXnsBHNKXJgGa36ngdW2nGr_mOsMNpUT46v-Nr2PpRvstJsV7Qi-Y0AyjH8gqeQ2pS9B1bRIO-YmyGWeND_xupp/s320/IMG_1541.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The setting up of the tents! </td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6em4EZtXRkO-EVMVOwBIieC8Ptg5-SDc97R14EoxvBuWq9yn6dWQuL1D56xyBUxy9a6OWNJvOMfdKV2S-pnb8HEs3DdfBDtAoMi6Sa7Z2uoPPusBTT4tnWhyphenhyphenbS7LNAQHYoTgmmGwaI-sM/s1600/IMG_1547.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6em4EZtXRkO-EVMVOwBIieC8Ptg5-SDc97R14EoxvBuWq9yn6dWQuL1D56xyBUxy9a6OWNJvOMfdKV2S-pnb8HEs3DdfBDtAoMi6Sa7Z2uoPPusBTT4tnWhyphenhyphenbS7LNAQHYoTgmmGwaI-sM/s400/IMG_1547.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Let's sit down for a second, guys... again."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And it's a good thing, too. That hike was HARD. The worst part may have been that the farther you went, the steeper it got. Thankfully, most of us had approximately the same level of ability to climb mountains, so our frequent rest stops were welcomed by all. At one point it was so steep that even Katie, our most experienced hiker, yelled to the mountain, "Why didn't they make switchbacks?!" Our sentiments exactly. On top of that, we all dressed for below-freezing, snowy conditions with several layers of clothes each. Don't get me wrong, I will <b>never</b> complain about the <u>absolutely perfect</u> weather,<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZdxkI6pF8mgIdzNMmE35VmnYphw6haB1uHhxfZ_l5sElST6zprKynwxGZDzSk242BObk98L3dRThJoWUHe1wQtmFdXHPD7CKd9BqgvZVg_5QPNyhUQg8FISH0AeEKD296BAIERUfrwdyy/s1600/IMG_1617.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZdxkI6pF8mgIdzNMmE35VmnYphw6haB1uHhxfZ_l5sElST6zprKynwxGZDzSk242BObk98L3dRThJoWUHe1wQtmFdXHPD7CKd9BqgvZVg_5QPNyhUQg8FISH0AeEKD296BAIERUfrwdyy/s320/IMG_1617.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Filling the water bottle... practically straight from<br />
the glacier! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
but it did make for a very different experience than what we were prepared for. Speaking of being prepared, we each had one water bottle with us. And what do you do when you run out of water hiking up a mountain in a national park? That's right.... drink glacier water! Straight from the stream running down the mountain. Don't worry, we're not completely irresponsible, Katie (MVP, like I said) brought iodine tablets, but three different park people told us that all the water was drinkable, and not to worry about it. Let me tell you, there's a reason bottled water tries to sell itself as glacier water. It may have been the best water I've ever had. You can practically taste the purity. <br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Yws_rYugPvHFskaJ7L9XY18a-EIZgCgy3G9IlN2Rdw1BSnFLicqfJuNvvjMNK2xTLZ2RRJLGXRWFZmO8ss05007fhfZBn4vinloRiUs1zSyFDW_6eX5pUitsfdPH3yokCbLwo3QQv5JE/s1600/DSC_0118.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Yws_rYugPvHFskaJ7L9XY18a-EIZgCgy3G9IlN2Rdw1BSnFLicqfJuNvvjMNK2xTLZ2RRJLGXRWFZmO8ss05007fhfZBn4vinloRiUs1zSyFDW_6eX5pUitsfdPH3yokCbLwo3QQv5JE/s400/DSC_0118.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The highest point on our hike! Definitely worth the effort.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We didn't make it all the way to the <i>mirador</i> (lookout place), but that was in the plan, so no one was terribly disappointed. We turned around in time to make it back to camp before it was too dark, and started heading down the mountain. On the way down, we ran into a group of Mexican exchange students who are also studying in Viña with us, so we hiked down with them and heard all about their week-long trip through Chile.<br />
<br />
When we got back to camp, we had about enough light to find our food, so we ate dinner in the almost-dark and then... went to bed. When it's pretty much too dark to see and fire's not allowed (poor Colin) and the temperature is rapidly approaching zero degrees Celsius, that's really all there is to do. Even if it's only 7:30pm. While at some point during the night I must have reached warm-enough-to-sleep, it sure did seem to take a while.<br />
<span style="color: #990000;"><br /></span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
(Sidenote from Colin: This was my first camping experience ever where I was actually "roughing it." </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
I slept terribly. </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
It was so cold, and the ground was terribly hard. </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
I hope to never have to camp again. Nature, you're cruel, but beautiful.)</div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span><br />
<br />
<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Saturday:</span></b></div>
When you wake up from the cold and the hard ground at 5am, getting up at 6:45 doesn't seem too bad after all. We had to wake up, eat breakfast, and tear down camp by 8 in order to make the two hour trek back to where the bus would pick us up. In case you've never been hiking, I want to let you know right now that two hours feels a LOT longer after a hike than it does beforehand. Miraculously, about 30 minutes into our walk, a nice man in a pickup truck asked us if we wanted a ride! As difficult as it is to fit six people and six backpacks into the bed of a small pickup, the time and effort he saved us was deeply appreciated. Lucky break number six. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEAgFbPiX3bHL8KPw1kJz3KPw-qN9tcdQ8SUE7SxIE-i_k28qIwjgLMXYR63eNYW1Ui7GILdbQpq8y7xN3IsGx4GQfD0lKUsc_4YGWyfxcXsgiTbpM3D-a4AIF_pMFgvIJJ6M2YhEaVo2G/s1600/IMG_1593.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEAgFbPiX3bHL8KPw1kJz3KPw-qN9tcdQ8SUE7SxIE-i_k28qIwjgLMXYR63eNYW1Ui7GILdbQpq8y7xN3IsGx4GQfD0lKUsc_4YGWyfxcXsgiTbpM3D-a4AIF_pMFgvIJJ6M2YhEaVo2G/s400/IMG_1593.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was the best I could do with one free hand on a <br />
bumpy road. That's Sarah, Katie, and Hilary, and you <br />
can see Charlene's hair on the right and my hand and <br />
Colin's arm on the left. No one could move. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Having saved so much time in the pickup, we had time to relax and chow down on some more cereal while waiting for the bus. Meanwhile, walking right toward us as if they didn't even know we were there, came a herd of <i>guanacos</i>! My understanding is that this is the Chilean version of a llama. They're pretty cute.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgDTlA3mCsURvBYlcGLS0X-5kaMYUGhGWAC4Tmtin7ZDfPire11_KKqhpZyxT9bS2TtSARBeMhXPjZgBwhHIAvBkGHiOEZliLRTQAO1eNBzd8BKA5npUTSDO0ueQ-oQJap5GtSwChD3eTu/s1600/DSC_0166.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgDTlA3mCsURvBYlcGLS0X-5kaMYUGhGWAC4Tmtin7ZDfPire11_KKqhpZyxT9bS2TtSARBeMhXPjZgBwhHIAvBkGHiOEZliLRTQAO1eNBzd8BKA5npUTSDO0ueQ-oQJap5GtSwChD3eTu/s640/DSC_0166.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Llamas in the north, <i>guanacos</i> in the south. Furry creatures runnin' around all over the place!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
When the bus showed up, it was none other than our favorite bus driver from the day before! And he was kind enough to take us from <i>Hosteria Las Torres</i> to the <i>Salto Grande</i>, another part of the park, even though it was out of his way and not really part of the ride we had paid for. (All arranged by Ivan, of course.) He even let us leave our bags on the bus so we wouldn't have to hike with them. Lucky break number seven. We were more than happy to use the rest of our time in the park making a short trek to the <i>mirador</i> for <i>Los Cuernos</i> and the <i>Glaciar del Frances</i>. Comparatively, this was an easy, one-hour hike, and it was well worth the effort. The view from the <i>mirador</i> was beautiful and it made the perfect place to eat our lunch. Even though Saturday was chilly and much cloudier than Friday, it somehow still managed to be the perfect weather for glacier-viewing, since the clouds made the colors of the snow and ice more visible. Lucky break number eight.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA_MevuSDo91DsPmaz2aIqv99y4FKxcxoZJbEb77fgB11bj8_WJOVBGJi6xs0wJEWdHOhEjShaBGERKPolIFeOXBQEu8-ovXCD2F7O9hFDugy-JZtX5u_A2_7dnzbvpzX54233qM53-k5Q/s1600/DSC_0202_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA_MevuSDo91DsPmaz2aIqv99y4FKxcxoZJbEb77fgB11bj8_WJOVBGJi6xs0wJEWdHOhEjShaBGERKPolIFeOXBQEu8-ovXCD2F7O9hFDugy-JZtX5u_A2_7dnzbvpzX54233qM53-k5Q/s640/DSC_0202_2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Los Cuernos</i>- the horns. Incredible, albeit a little crooked.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8HtySlkxwbnuNM6qKufumV6tGgS9urIZkysMVlVOheXzl6vzdpxZuPpNUNESEYP0YgVr8B_ura7s8oR5qmswJksg811olkJKCFLdUCoXQdZPVKoMSO0MsKGzvJ9RivQ1lbj9j4d0kHhmW/s1600/DSC_0203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8HtySlkxwbnuNM6qKufumV6tGgS9urIZkysMVlVOheXzl6vzdpxZuPpNUNESEYP0YgVr8B_ura7s8oR5qmswJksg811olkJKCFLdUCoXQdZPVKoMSO0MsKGzvJ9RivQ1lbj9j4d0kHhmW/s640/DSC_0203.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Glaciar del Frances</i>- No really! There's frozen water on top of that mountain!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnmjSq5Dhy5pR0kBdTDebnqc4NVxVe4rExqKjauG_sGTmQic-7dzHghr8KzsBeRPL_4BiAQI-4sbHBxeUF8OqMXlGZAdOCeskepsjh-U0uSTwFVdsoW8EWxCZzD4elfMEQ0u5ZBdoNqEmv/s1600/IMG_1609.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnmjSq5Dhy5pR0kBdTDebnqc4NVxVe4rExqKjauG_sGTmQic-7dzHghr8KzsBeRPL_4BiAQI-4sbHBxeUF8OqMXlGZAdOCeskepsjh-U0uSTwFVdsoW8EWxCZzD4elfMEQ0u5ZBdoNqEmv/s640/IMG_1609.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good food, Great company, Grandeur of a view</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
On the way back to catch the same bus, we stopped at the <i>Salto Grande</i>, a waterfall that I can only assume comes directly from the surrounding glaciers. Pretty awesome. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2U_o-Ll15OXwck3Xv6ZCvWf-Z3J11QFfoJdTUUHE2oJkJ5uQDFKpiCF1w9nxld37lM__2L61MZI2T-TreYzi6mPmpiNfIlTIEDBjEO2bAxUGECuw5CRRmKmsK_MScX6Yr2scZ-mdU00SE/s1600/DSC_0236.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2U_o-Ll15OXwck3Xv6ZCvWf-Z3J11QFfoJdTUUHE2oJkJ5uQDFKpiCF1w9nxld37lM__2L61MZI2T-TreYzi6mPmpiNfIlTIEDBjEO2bAxUGECuw5CRRmKmsK_MScX6Yr2scZ-mdU00SE/s640/DSC_0236.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">SO MUCH DELICIOUS WATER</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span><br />
On the bus ride back to the hostel, we ran into some of our other <i>gringo</i> friends who had showed up a few days before us. We had a few hours of story-swapping on the bus ride, and they ended up at the same hostel we were staying at, but only long enough to shower and eat and leave to catch their flight. We spent our evening enjoying the hot showers and cooking more spaghetti. This time we treated ourselves to real meat sauce, french bread, and wine. Our warm, fluffy beds were even more welcome than they had been Thursday night.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Sunday:</span></b></div>
We finally got to sleep in Sunday morning, which is to say, we woke up at 7:30. We enjoyed a much more leisurely breakfast and loaded up in yet another bus, this time back to Punta Arenas. We arrived at about lunchtime, so we pulled out our tourist guide book and looked for something relatively cheap. I hate to admit that we ate hamburgers in Chile, but they sure were delicious. And when they come with mayo and <i>palta</i>, I feel like they still count as Chilean.<br />
<br />
After lunch, we hung around the central plaza for a while and looked at souvenirs. Then I called Loli, Mama Lorena's daughter who lives in Punta Arenas, because Mama Lorena gave me a birthday gift to give her. When she heard we were in the plaza, she asked us if we wanted to go to the shopping center in Punta Arenas because it's cheaper, and she and her family drove us there. We spent a little while in what amounted to a mall, and we bought some delicious chocolates. We got bored pretty quickly because nearly everything was closed, so we decided to head back to the center of town.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeELOaOK2W9s7jVDfEECslqH8PLeYUG4etJYe9lSIho9YuPVrAElehZB2Pxb8WzfxgzQePAlRoYaLrnaeL3c0MwLr8tx329K1h5_P3tDF2gK2Y2skZDEy5j2E6n1S_UDnpO_ro51u6SWGf/s1600/IMG_1627.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeELOaOK2W9s7jVDfEECslqH8PLeYUG4etJYe9lSIho9YuPVrAElehZB2Pxb8WzfxgzQePAlRoYaLrnaeL3c0MwLr8tx329K1h5_P3tDF2gK2Y2skZDEy5j2E6n1S_UDnpO_ro51u6SWGf/s320/IMG_1627.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If anyone makes it this far south on a rickety<br />
boat, they deserve a statue.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYOiCqvGKDIPamu1uVpTXp2BIvZByPvRSGWgSIWGPIvbiYdaDQx_53AhYrFs3MnCOcWJced-bfLXPgx-VGFojiugjK-Y_BX7uCz_AIaJhMzcn69E_zm_JBVGHKG7VUTGsDPeyUVqfMu4PU/s1600/IMG_1631.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYOiCqvGKDIPamu1uVpTXp2BIvZByPvRSGWgSIWGPIvbiYdaDQx_53AhYrFs3MnCOcWJced-bfLXPgx-VGFojiugjK-Y_BX7uCz_AIaJhMzcn69E_zm_JBVGHKG7VUTGsDPeyUVqfMu4PU/s320/IMG_1631.JPG" width="272" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and my "host sister" Loli</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwNzAYZCkGUVbqF0yq6igotVzgZBilOUoQcDaas5Azd850ZT2Ds4AymYv41_GILqNmo9WtIJyChubFOEx7JImwCxOIM_S1Zlgh6Y-0GCmxg8CmYlFNz2VRXxBJZSf_YfW0cOEJhMS-ziEA/s1600/IMG_1633.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwNzAYZCkGUVbqF0yq6igotVzgZBilOUoQcDaas5Azd850ZT2Ds4AymYv41_GILqNmo9WtIJyChubFOEx7JImwCxOIM_S1Zlgh6Y-0GCmxg8CmYlFNz2VRXxBJZSf_YfW0cOEJhMS-ziEA/s400/IMG_1633.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Punta Arenas really does have better chocolate than the rest of Chile!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Then comes one of my favorite parts of the whole trip: we walked from the plaza down to the water and put our feet in THE STRAIT OF MAGELLAN. And it was freezing. Very close to literally. Then, since we had nothing else to do, we sat on the beach, watched the sun set and drank the leftover wine from Saturday night. After the sun went down, the temperature dropped quickly, so we walked around til we found a cute Colombian cafe, where we warmed up with hot chocolate and tea.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ36e8DUvZotSt4IF91uWaKfKqKRQiqlqp3YfWJnmxVylijYjiWo39mwaGCYm8r253KgEj-IiVK6ySLTbDXcT9lcALkmc7TvVGLpotlYBSEMyhRwhpLH3u_JMWyktlUPXYXRfmYvstra3K/s1600/Screen+shot+2012-05-11+at+12.31.59+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ36e8DUvZotSt4IF91uWaKfKqKRQiqlqp3YfWJnmxVylijYjiWo39mwaGCYm8r253KgEj-IiVK6ySLTbDXcT9lcALkmc7TvVGLpotlYBSEMyhRwhpLH3u_JMWyktlUPXYXRfmYvstra3K/s640/Screen+shot+2012-05-11+at+12.31.59+AM.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was cold, <i>pero vale la pena</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs20jDBE_QBZY-9rABGJFU52Hvp7rsEMRuBrFqIaDqPAJ1ZRvFJ61Gfo1hH3UMfPe3k8q9QVBpEUQSNuKyCx-5zaegZKcrSyw96YaeifrXBAdZmmLjBhOXk10cW8SxSX0j3i1cslYQ7For/s1600/IMG_1638.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs20jDBE_QBZY-9rABGJFU52Hvp7rsEMRuBrFqIaDqPAJ1ZRvFJ61Gfo1hH3UMfPe3k8q9QVBpEUQSNuKyCx-5zaegZKcrSyw96YaeifrXBAdZmmLjBhOXk10cW8SxSX0j3i1cslYQ7For/s400/IMG_1638.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sunset over Punta Arenas</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKyQYh6ANq2vz-IzRJPbcXsQiB8Lhyphenhyphenqt2VYCGv6jUXstYGPuvba9BBJbSW85WCj_pEJ-gcyvV1lWzq2cS2ecfUhXUShuZfZKgQ7pEFjqnn_vT6QHiTbuqx1ezo_DIVI7lBIjBSWsf8GFwN/s1600/IMG_1647.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKyQYh6ANq2vz-IzRJPbcXsQiB8Lhyphenhyphenqt2VYCGv6jUXstYGPuvba9BBJbSW85WCj_pEJ-gcyvV1lWzq2cS2ecfUhXUShuZfZKgQ7pEFjqnn_vT6QHiTbuqx1ezo_DIVI7lBIjBSWsf8GFwN/s320/IMG_1647.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hot chocolate in a Colombian cafe</td></tr>
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We called Loli again because we had nothing else to do and nowhere to go, and she invited us to her house for <i>once</i> and offered us a ride to the airport. She fed us a delicious <i>once</i> and then we sat around talking until they came up with the idea to take us out to a lookout where you can see the city and the Strait. When we got back to her house, she took pity on the poor hungry <i>gringos</i> and basically gave us another <i>once</i>. Her precious kids, Sofia and Benjamin, played with play-doh with us as we talked until late. At 12:30am, Loli's husband Pablo drove us to the airport for another night of sleeping on benches while we waited for our 6:20am flight. He even walked us in to make sure we could all check in before he left.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOeuBXNtlkWAGNRyaORzn5IQm7hSc85-CFhwkW-F4VU1ys4VE4FLO496pxAJq5aYXxbgzkJffLuv_rR77erJQg00-bO73n8HC4YjvDQMYRPyEbxHFTDCYhGieQY6iLKDmi-rWQ3y0jvV6Q/s1600/DSC_0297.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOeuBXNtlkWAGNRyaORzn5IQm7hSc85-CFhwkW-F4VU1ys4VE4FLO496pxAJq5aYXxbgzkJffLuv_rR77erJQg00-bO73n8HC4YjvDQMYRPyEbxHFTDCYhGieQY6iLKDmi-rWQ3y0jvV6Q/s400/DSC_0297.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm teaching them to make play-dough turtles</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzka41aWXQd6ofhAmIKtgyuzU_qmw42BBgI3FF15X_-I3jBLL8_sgA88Fh9r6YWBR5K5l2VSP-5y4TGwpkLxLWQ6i0iPBp7ONjeL5TKbjcT5abc5eQAEhzxZJFeGdCT9miI31O-gWcHVgY/s1600/IMG_1649.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzka41aWXQd6ofhAmIKtgyuzU_qmw42BBgI3FF15X_-I3jBLL8_sgA88Fh9r6YWBR5K5l2VSP-5y4TGwpkLxLWQ6i0iPBp7ONjeL5TKbjcT5abc5eQAEhzxZJFeGdCT9miI31O-gWcHVgY/s320/IMG_1649.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A tiger!</td></tr>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Monday:</span></b></div>
Again, I guess this is technically Monday now. We spent the night trying to sleep, but since we weren't quite as exhausted, it was much more difficult this time. I spent most of our time in the airport wishing I was already on the plane, and most of the time in the plane wishing I was already on the bus, and most of the time I was on the bus wishing I was already in my bed. But that's how it goes, I suppose. All legs of travel went smoothly, and we made it back no worse for the wear. The most difficult decision I had to make Monday was whether to shower, eat, or nap first.<br />
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In short, our adventure was better than I could have possibly imagined. Thank you to everyone for your thoughts and prayers while were gone. <br />
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<br />Rachel Davenporthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07114485023775563678noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622104096545081487.post-58645908495310809802012-05-02T19:52:00.000-04:002012-05-02T19:52:22.358-04:00"leaving, on a jet plane..."Hey all! <br />We're headed to Patagonia tonight to visit <i>las Torres del Paine</i> for the weekend. <br />
Pray for safe and scam-free travel, sanity, and not freezing to death! <br />No but really. We don't want to freeze to death. <br />We can't wait to show you pictures when we return.<br />
Until then,<br />
Chao!<br /><br />-RachelRachel Davenporthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07114485023775563678noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622104096545081487.post-50941325231750480642012-04-30T02:30:00.000-04:002012-04-30T00:39:18.406-04:00Pablo, the Vengador of the Mapuche.So I have this friend, Pablo.<br />
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Well, he's dead actually. But he wrote a lot of poems back in the day. Pablo Neruda is one of Chile's most famous people. He served as a senator for the Chilean Communist Party, but most notably he won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1971. He also only ever wrote in <i>tinta verde</i> (green ink).</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo71LOPo6U8RW6tvnrbPV4QeTIeSGxEp_eQBDpXM9AVXfkm-yMoO-kjGz_oz_jHoVzhUJ08hvlTqGrKUElvVFOVswXPoOm7tPL8LOqq5X7kKtyBEmBLPSls-GKk2OcklOreW0y6SRs7e0u/s1600/DSC_0052.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo71LOPo6U8RW6tvnrbPV4QeTIeSGxEp_eQBDpXM9AVXfkm-yMoO-kjGz_oz_jHoVzhUJ08hvlTqGrKUElvVFOVswXPoOm7tPL8LOqq5X7kKtyBEmBLPSls-GKk2OcklOreW0y6SRs7e0u/s400/DSC_0052.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh yeah, he collected trains too....</td></tr>
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This is just a taste of what we learned about his life when we visited one of his three homes, <i>Isla Negra</i>. This was Neruda's favorite home and it is quite impressive. (Unfortunately, I wasn't allowed to take pictures inside the house.) The man was a collector of STUFF! There's hardly any space to walk through the house as each nook, cranny, and wall is covered with everything from figureheads (the things at the fronts of ships) to pipes, to maps, to bells, and seashells. Everything imaginable that has to do with (but not limited to) the sea can probably be found inside or in the yard. The house has been kept pretty much as he left it, so we really got a first hand look at how he lived his life. For more on the life and times of Pablo Neruda <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pablo_neruda" target="_blank">click here.</a> ;)</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A vast assortment of decorative bottles. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1kQWr8NJX0JIBMk4opv6-AqPDGYeTQfuIVAGsmtsUEh8dufygKovgKYtqoqPnCJ1uCdsenqusudC8RJmXjF6hf3VU76gr23R4WSiJv3bJEfd37bHyWMiU77JvjiCMNN4qjP_QwQecONMi/s1600/DSC_0068.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1kQWr8NJX0JIBMk4opv6-AqPDGYeTQfuIVAGsmtsUEh8dufygKovgKYtqoqPnCJ1uCdsenqusudC8RJmXjF6hf3VU76gr23R4WSiJv3bJEfd37bHyWMiU77JvjiCMNN4qjP_QwQecONMi/s640/DSC_0068.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">AND he's buried here with his third wife. Told ya it was his favorite.</td></tr>
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We had a really great time there, especially the amazing view of the sea. The clouds that day were doing some amazing things to the color of the waves! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFAVH3LrYmjq6zvVnFiFMNWpa5w9VfzLRSdhH-FUVn3ZxuWQGeRjdQINxowiVUgDCk1y4iaVWxICU1WP2yOKt68yojcMJKLgbDOO3zJUa3Jrb5wov5KFZnekMD-Tz9y98tr7oOu6uR6gRx/s1600/DSC_0021.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFAVH3LrYmjq6zvVnFiFMNWpa5w9VfzLRSdhH-FUVn3ZxuWQGeRjdQINxowiVUgDCk1y4iaVWxICU1WP2yOKt68yojcMJKLgbDOO3zJUa3Jrb5wov5KFZnekMD-Tz9y98tr7oOu6uR6gRx/s640/DSC_0021.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpAUIkTCHKMRos7gox-2wrUqBahRSNIP3CoGCjefa7p8dnb-glgxgCnPdt_R8ndLDsQKACrE1_Nxy-QqWPgLG9IRVUC6LFvYNIGr7u8L4GQCvgtEKYo9uYStJ7Tz0SRuhSqL6XyIOnmkJa/s1600/DSC_0006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpAUIkTCHKMRos7gox-2wrUqBahRSNIP3CoGCjefa7p8dnb-glgxgCnPdt_R8ndLDsQKACrE1_Nxy-QqWPgLG9IRVUC6LFvYNIGr7u8L4GQCvgtEKYo9uYStJ7Tz0SRuhSqL6XyIOnmkJa/s400/DSC_0006.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A traditional <i>Ruca</i> or hut of the <i>Mapuche</i> people </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTqbf1EIDfH-U3Hm8lJy_uKLOt4hS0sDjnno3OuVVD5ZG9CvQbSLFir1txQ6jHArWulXmniLyMCaEA5FjhNQeWTm8UltoMkZIK0TvHq79aeIIplIwc4gvsyF1zTsXwkJ_-arJof-zYIiB7/s1600/DSC_0010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTqbf1EIDfH-U3Hm8lJy_uKLOt4hS0sDjnno3OuVVD5ZG9CvQbSLFir1txQ6jHArWulXmniLyMCaEA5FjhNQeWTm8UltoMkZIK0TvHq79aeIIplIwc4gvsyF1zTsXwkJ_-arJof-zYIiB7/s400/DSC_0010.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Orietta: kinda obnoxiously proud of the mapuche, <br />
but totally informative.</td></tr>
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Another trip we went on with the other exchange students was to a <i>Ruca Mapuche</i>. <i>Mapuche</i> is the name of the indigenous people who lived in most of Chile and Argentina until modern times. The <i>mapuche</i> are much like any indigenous race nowadays, fiercely proud of their heritage and slowly decreasing in number every year. There are some who choose to ignore their ancestry as it is often a source of discrimination. </div>
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Our guide for the tour, Orietta, spoke a lot about <i>Mapuche</i> customs and beliefs (and at one point berated us for making the world celebrate the new year in January, rather than their winter in June) while wearing traditional indigenous garb. <i>Mapuche</i> people speak <i>mapudungun</i>, and their words sometimes sneak into the <i>chilenismos</i> we learn every day. (For example, girlfriend/boyfriend is <i>polola</i>(<i>o</i>) instead of the textbook <i>novia</i>(<i>o</i>) we learned in Spanish class.) </div>
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The <i>mapuche</i> people are also very independent and have a tradition of reverence toward the elderly in their culture. Very similar to our own Native Americans, this tribe is having land redistribution issues with the Chilean government. </div>
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After a stint about history and beliefs, Orietta told us about festivals, and then we all got to eat traditional food! All in all, it was an insightful visit and I'm glad we learned a little more about Chilean people. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxTYzPUcxT-V7I6UqEGIER6kUQDnmEkj3Id7jr4zr2qin-uErYSDZatO2jCzNxLNbl7E5j3e2AMNrFlyPNlVHylX9kK3_4d11z9HdVLg6K0x6SPsk6FsftyVA_RN8lTaxhhBv9n01feqf_/s1600/DSC_0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxTYzPUcxT-V7I6UqEGIER6kUQDnmEkj3Id7jr4zr2qin-uErYSDZatO2jCzNxLNbl7E5j3e2AMNrFlyPNlVHylX9kK3_4d11z9HdVLg6K0x6SPsk6FsftyVA_RN8lTaxhhBv9n01feqf_/s400/DSC_0002.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This guy guards the spirits of the ancestors.<br />
And takes pictures with American girls.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjauPFvpWFOlGXIir9VhvXgxO_EGjx9o2YaRXa-99zflOhee8DY5t8mI9Fm0F_kfVxOlUpNFLAgQa0h5bD4S0h8KbkD6pDkm45pM_lnWhEUhvCXd3YoOxd0YLvrhKvlQOceIpiRk7JvdHk2/s1600/DSC_0012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjauPFvpWFOlGXIir9VhvXgxO_EGjx9o2YaRXa-99zflOhee8DY5t8mI9Fm0F_kfVxOlUpNFLAgQa0h5bD4S0h8KbkD6pDkm45pM_lnWhEUhvCXd3YoOxd0YLvrhKvlQOceIpiRk7JvdHk2/s640/DSC_0012.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The fried dough in front was delicious. Everything else tasted like grass or dirt. What does this say about our culture?</td></tr>
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Afterwards, we made our way to the mall where we bought tickets to <i>Los Vengadores </i>(The Avengers)! As I mentioned before, movies come out earlier here (sometimes a WEEK in advance). For all of you who are superhero fanatics and all of you who aren't, this is a must-see film!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqDx3e4dq57z-j1kCddRcTV9XsqXyA7RPRrsrbmsC7Tzn2yCKE71f46phy5CBJbMRlublUTDNk1lRGdbq18b9Z5wp_DpCC_YjAlHAj3GRyuhg0gaf1jA81fY8dLKtvOxY7wByE0TI06hWr/s1600/DSC_0025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="378" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqDx3e4dq57z-j1kCddRcTV9XsqXyA7RPRrsrbmsC7Tzn2yCKE71f46phy5CBJbMRlublUTDNk1lRGdbq18b9Z5wp_DpCC_YjAlHAj3GRyuhg0gaf1jA81fY8dLKtvOxY7wByE0TI06hWr/s640/DSC_0025.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't have a superpower.... yet.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr_8kU09PSIP4zyXWj-R15FYjdCInpCj92sYOQuxx0tOkovb-faHh-AW2VGXUagiQyeScIqN_ykANGEsgK4E97df7s0JubHCSmwfDvhcZ07GnYNLGMYc4Bp8DwvgZS-H-t-SyzuEP6yCzT/s1600/DSC_0101.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr_8kU09PSIP4zyXWj-R15FYjdCInpCj92sYOQuxx0tOkovb-faHh-AW2VGXUagiQyeScIqN_ykANGEsgK4E97df7s0JubHCSmwfDvhcZ07GnYNLGMYc4Bp8DwvgZS-H-t-SyzuEP6yCzT/s400/DSC_0101.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who needs Starbucks? </td></tr>
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A shout-out to our friend <span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>Kellie Mogg</b></span> who told us about an excellent café/bar/hangout/etc: THANK YOU! <i>El Baúl Café</i> is easily one of the coolest places here in Viña. (Just think hipster meets indie meets chilean and you've got it!) It's quiet, somewhat off the main road, and definitely comfortable. As the days start to get cooler, they burn real fire, in a real fireplace! The tea is amazing, and it is often accompanied by a <i>sandwich planchado</i> (ironed sandwich). Basically it's a toasted ham and cheese sandwich, but it does come with a side of mayonaise-yogurt-garlic dipping sauce which is tasty to say the least. We've been four times in two weeks and will definitely go back. </div>
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Viva Chile, y vive tú.</div>
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-Colin</div>
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<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622104096545081487.post-75223137495730195682012-04-22T17:47:00.000-03:002012-04-22T17:47:18.551-03:00Teacher Colin, Miss Rachel<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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As a part of our Cultures in Contact class, the international students have the
opportunity to volunteer regularly in one of several programs offered by the
school. There is a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jardin botánica</i> nearby
that several students go to on a weekly basis to help out with things like
pulling weeds and replanting. Some other students work with children at what
amounts to a group foster home. Colin and I chose to volunteer in an elementary
school helping out with English classes. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpA6tMUounBNhnjjknu4PPUKW4Ua6oRMZxoqasByP8ApPFc4v841FxeQmr-LTYJCVWglb9-YGlEKhNfCbmymFvLRh7yo1S4VYdwvHupUFe2TCoBNFW7PUub7XVZpknSvb8zcBbk37Xod1l/s1600/IMG_1424.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpA6tMUounBNhnjjknu4PPUKW4Ua6oRMZxoqasByP8ApPFc4v841FxeQmr-LTYJCVWglb9-YGlEKhNfCbmymFvLRh7yo1S4VYdwvHupUFe2TCoBNFW7PUub7XVZpknSvb8zcBbk37Xod1l/s640/IMG_1424.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Every Thursday we show up at <i>Colegio Paul Harris</i> at 10:20am and meet
Rodrigo, the English teacher, in the teachers' lounge. Then at 10:30 we head
down a few buildings to the classroom where <i>Sexto A</i> (one half of the
sixth grade) meets. <br />
<br />
The first week we were there, Rodrigo asked us to prepare a powerpoint to
introduce ourselves. We went over those ten slides three or four times in each
classroom as the children listened and then told their teacher what they'd
understood, which seemed like a reasonable amount for even- and
twelve-year-olds. Then the kids introduced themselves to us. They seemed to
have “my name is…” mostly down, although they said their names so fast I couldn’t
understand more than three or four of them. What astounded me, though, was that
these kids couldn’t even remember how to say their own age. Maybe I’m expecting
too much, but I’m pretty sure that if nothing else, I knew how to say how old I
was in Spanish one. On top of that, I would bet money that they think “I am” is
one word, pronounced “eye-yahm.” </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkB_UecEnrACHuKW26sAvIuzUy56WT44dPxHbwNljsToHdNdZxsAStuIW0ViWJOQsPe-kGtsay2BEOdx3xzPySRx7EjmPO0QGoxe5SqR4nDxlkFo-3RUGx84e8VRnsTQwuUxcj90gGZUuc/s1600/IMG_1414.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkB_UecEnrACHuKW26sAvIuzUy56WT44dPxHbwNljsToHdNdZxsAStuIW0ViWJOQsPe-kGtsay2BEOdx3xzPySRx7EjmPO0QGoxe5SqR4nDxlkFo-3RUGx84e8VRnsTQwuUxcj90gGZUuc/s320/IMG_1414.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rodrigo is about to greet <i>Séptimo A</i>.</td></tr>
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After <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Sexto A</i>, we
head around the corner to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Séptimo B</i>
(one half of the seventh grade). Two kids from <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Sexto A</i> help us carry the projector, laptop, and boom box from one
class to the next. <span>When we arrive, Rodrigo greets them with a good morning, which gets a class-wide "Good morning, Teacher." He asks them how they are and the class responds "Fine, thanks. And you?" And when he tells them to take a seat, they say "Thank you, Teacher." I think the theory was: if nothing else, at least these kids will be able to say fine thanks, and you. </span></div>
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<span><br /></span></div>
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<span><br /></span></div>
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<span></span></div>
<br />
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<br />
<br />
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipQYlws1h0pI4tDva6TZDs-8zRJswrmKrMXxFTxMwoIqwhMdJ-CfOVT-d9n2F4r-sm8oPLdFSTuUu2ow__S5GtwvVnbzjXJOTOo65uf3eIbO2TKbIvdJ7RY-muQWcJR3SVwkyJYT3PBIBY/s1600/IMG_1416.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipQYlws1h0pI4tDva6TZDs-8zRJswrmKrMXxFTxMwoIqwhMdJ-CfOVT-d9n2F4r-sm8oPLdFSTuUu2ow__S5GtwvVnbzjXJOTOo65uf3eIbO2TKbIvdJ7RY-muQWcJR3SVwkyJYT3PBIBY/s400/IMG_1416.JPG" width="400" /></a><span>The second week we were there we worked on speaking drills with the kids. Colin and I read a dialogue from their book aloud several times, and then they repeated after us. We then spent several minutes working with pairs of students and helping them practice the dialogue with their partner. That was my favorite part, because I actually got to talk to the individual students and ask them things like "What are your favorite activities?" Even though it's an English class, most of the directions have to be at least repeated in Spanish before the kids really know what to do, so when I talk to them individually, I speak Spanish instead of English. I think once they figured out I really do speak Spanish, they were much less afraid of me. </span></div>
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<span><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd4gTv1KkRAwlN_XWlPBJPf_8687vOolBYNvDd9n-KWoEHWOOSqCDiEZ4l6_gr29gvfyL1T4azwcG5QyYWIkIRkdjXdWTfwiFNxLZTU9mZ_IrjMKjmQPQH5h3tNRzseHVvKYlz-nMGmO8Q/s1600/Gamile,+Felipe,+Colin,+Anita,+Natalia.JPG" imageanchor="1"></a><span>When our time with </span><i>Séptimo B</i> is up, Colin and Rodrigo and I head back to the teachers' lounge while the kids have another recess. Walking through recess is always an adventure, and it makes us feel like real life celebrities. Nearly every kid we pass says "Hello, Teacher Colin" (not only is he blond, but his name is easier to pronounce) as we walk by, and little girls literally squeal with delight when Colin says hi to them. Boys almost literally stand in line to shake his hand and kiss my cheek as they leave the classroom. If you ever need a self-esteem boost, I recommend hanging out with Chilean children. They seem to have a knack for making you feel like the most important person in the world. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is a small portion of Colin's fan club</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Séptimo B</i> waiting for the music to start</td></tr>
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<![endif]--><i><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">El día del estudiante</span></i><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span>(Day of the Student, because who doesn't want a day dedicated to having fun at school?). There is a large community park right next to the school, so we took fourth through eighth grade outside for the day. We spent an hour or so in a concrete amphitheater waiting while <i>reggeton</i> and Brazilian music played and the kids danced to their favorite songs. Then the MC yelled something about Justin Beiber and pointed to the top of the amphitheater. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Even in Chile seventh graders<br />are too cool to have fun at <br />school activities! </td></tr>
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<span> Even as we looked up over our shoulders, Colin and I knew exactly who he was pointing too... So Justin Beiber was called to the stage at the bottom and they handed him the mic and said "Dance!" And just to be fair, they called me down too. Never in a million years would I choose to dance on stage in front of at least a hundred latino children, but when you don't get a choice, you just have to have fun with it! When we returned to our seats, the kids around us congratulated us and sympathized with the awkwardness of having to dance on stage. </span></div>
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<span><br />After the dancing fiasco, we went to the sport fields in the park and watched a team from each class play a <i>Mapuche</i> (indigenous Chilean) version of field hockey, and <i>quemadas</i> (dodgeball). We were surrounded the whole time by children who wanted to ask us everything from what games we play in the US to what the translation of their name would be to what kind of jewelry do I like to what are the tongue-twisters in English, and some children who just wanted to be near us. </span></div>
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<span><br /> </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6f7K6HU_tSdDu2p-R0lm5hkRGQ8pT-O1fBU5P0p4XtmosvSEFOJDsjcoXSugILr5xgmZpYj2VfkbPV1UMOXkRqq6KCgXbJQHXW3biJNg2PdZMANk2iXcWhpFevXy94Fqi_sRFZpnMtYq3/s1600/IMG_1420.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6f7K6HU_tSdDu2p-R0lm5hkRGQ8pT-O1fBU5P0p4XtmosvSEFOJDsjcoXSugILr5xgmZpYj2VfkbPV1UMOXkRqq6KCgXbJQHXW3biJNg2PdZMANk2iXcWhpFevXy94Fqi_sRFZpnMtYq3/s400/IMG_1420.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Séptimo A</i> preparing for their dialogue presentations</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS-p4a6KErKSPCrJe4kvECJheshVul1JnyDWrNdIdWc82cFlxpJyjfKNt8qZ6Xdt_nqyda48BYZRcQN7dAb62w7AVuM8FAN2fUuPAPngJPD_jhZhyphenhyphenpWq5sH5SRF35nvRTx4ywe9d4rZkP7/s1600/IMG_1422.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><span>After our break in the teachers' lounge with Rodrigo, we all head back down to the classrooms and join </span><i>Séptimo A</i> (the other half of the seventh grade). We run through the greeting drill again and then get down to business, which usually involves working on speaking drills until our time is up. <br /><br />This last week was our fourth week at Paul Harris. We spent the day... practicing dialogue! Again. The same one, in fact. And what's more, Colin and I got to grade the children on their partner presentation of it. If I hadn't already decided teaching wasn't for me, this would have done it. I want nothing to do with having to watch children struggling but trying their very hardest at something and having to say that it just wasn't good enough. How can I grade a child's pronunciation when their teacher doesn't even pronounce things perfectly? <br /><br />When we're finished with <i>Séptimo A</i>, we head to <i>Quinto A</i> (half the fifth grade), our shortest and youngest class of the day. Even though we only have about 15 minutes a week with <i>Quinto A</i>, they have managed to work their way into our hearts. (It doesn't hurt that ten- and eleven-year-olds are impossibly cute.) Most of our fan club is in <i>Quinto A</i>, and they never fail to kiss me on the way out. So far I have a collection of five paper flowers, and most of them were made by the girls in <i>Quinto A</i>. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="374" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS-p4a6KErKSPCrJe4kvECJheshVul1JnyDWrNdIdWc82cFlxpJyjfKNt8qZ6Xdt_nqyda48BYZRcQN7dAb62w7AVuM8FAN2fUuPAPngJPD_jhZhyphenhyphenpWq5sH5SRF35nvRTx4ywe9d4rZkP7/s640/IMG_1422.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It sure makes a person feel special when the kids are more concerned with <br />being close enough to touch you than with being in the picture</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAI30owYb7maznad51-3bQhVfpIR08q1-dj2qIIxigzN8e0T-CLAjCt1pVofxw1yE88JM0_i1Ip66em_k9b0I3VlsFpDqL83BXnq39WDUdfGV_IL_070wKlOm28QxxESDfoL5nOcdpBMeq/s1600/Kevin.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAI30owYb7maznad51-3bQhVfpIR08q1-dj2qIIxigzN8e0T-CLAjCt1pVofxw1yE88JM0_i1Ip66em_k9b0I3VlsFpDqL83BXnq39WDUdfGV_IL_070wKlOm28QxxESDfoL5nOcdpBMeq/s1600/Kevin.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>As with all the rest of life, there are bound to be some rough patches. We've had some cultural awkwardness: on our first day, Rodrigo pointed to his left and said "This is Teacher Colin," and then to his right and said, "and this is Miss Rachel." We've had some uncomfortable awkwardness: when it's your turn to
help the kids learn about occupations and you ask a girl at random,
"What does your father do?" and she looks at you and whispers "<i>no tengo</i>" (I don't have a father). We've had some goofy awkwardness: it's impossible for dancing onstage to <u>not</u> be awkward. And we've had some precious awkwardness: what do you say to a big-eyed ten-year-old trying to offer you his bag of candy as you walk out the door? <span><br /><br />But all in all, awkwardness included, it's been a fulfilling experience, and I look forward to going back every Thursday just as much as those precious children look forward to seeing us. </span></div>
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</div>Rachel Davenporthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07114485023775563678noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622104096545081487.post-85822236359377188112012-04-18T16:15:00.000-03:002012-04-18T16:15:44.439-03:00Earthquakes and wine, but not together<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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Let’s talk about the <u>danger</u> first.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One hour by car, ____ seconds by earthquake.</td></tr>
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EARLY Tuesday morning, at about 1am our time, we experienced
a 6.7 earthquake! It was crazy! Here I was lying down on the seventh floor of
our apartment building when suddenly <i>Pachamama</i>
(Mother Earth) decided to shake things up for over a full minute. I will say I
have amazing host parents, because not 5 seconds after it had started my host
mom showed up at my door to make sure I was fine. She was scared. She grabbed
my hand, and we walked to the kitchen for some reason (yes the earth was still
shaking) and then we saw the rest of my host family down the hallway. When
everything settled down, my host dad looked at me and said: “this was a
stronger <i>temblor</i>,” and then promptly
went back to bed. (I don’t think he was very impressed with it.)</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
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Now, there is a difference between earthquake and earthquake
here. The two words are <i>terremoto</i>,
which literally means “earth-move/shake” and then there’s <i>temblor</i>. <i>Temblor</i> is the
word they use for smaller earthquakes and probably is related to “tremble.”
Rachel’s family has told her that from 1.0 – 6.9 on the Richter scale is a <i>temblor</i> and everything bigger than that
is a <i>terremoto</i>. (Also, when
experiencing an earthquake, you must be cognizant of the almighty <i>maremoto</i>, or tsunami, which can
accompany these disasters.) </div>
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We (Rachel, I, and all the other Chileans and <i>gringos</i>) are perfectly fine. The office
at our university got a bit remodeled, and we got a day off of classes while
they worked on it, but otherwise we’re all safe and sound. </div>
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Now, some things that have happened in the last few weeks…</div>
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April 1, 2012 – April 8, 2012 was quite a week for Rachel
and me. We decided that we had been speaking way too much English (to the point
that we thought it was inhibiting our Spanish) so we had a “Spanish Only” week.
For the better part of seven days we only spoke to each other and everyone else
in Spanish. It was hard for me. (Probably not as hard for Rachel.) But was it
worth it? Definitely. We noticed that our Spanish has improved and we were thankful
that our <i>gringo</i> friends helped us by
only speaking in Spanish to us, as well. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mama Patty- She's the best.</td></tr>
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April 1, 2012 – April 8, 2012 was <i>Semana Santa</i> down here also. The dominant religion here in Chile is
Catholicism so most people got Good Friday off from work/school. Thursday
night, I went with my family to the beautiful beach of <i>Maitencillo</i>. It’s about an hour and a half north of here. We stayed
in basically a beach condo for three days, soaking up the sun, playing in the
COLD Pacific Ocean, and eating oh-so-many <i>empanadas</i>.
I was very thankful for the time I spent with my family, especially with my
host mom Patty. They taught me how to play some card games, hence we stayed up
super late most nights. When we got back on Easter in the afternoon, Rachel
came over and we had <i>once</i> and watched
“<i>La familia del futuro</i>” or “Meet the
Robinsons” in Spanish.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from our terrace at the beach condo. We were <i>kinda</i> close.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">THE SCHOLARS!</td></tr>
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The following Tuesday, Rachel and I had our first test in
our hard class with the other Chileans. It’s funny because our Professor was 20
minutes late to class, in typical Chilean style. He wrote nine questions on the
board, and we only had to answer six of them. I have to brag on us. Prof. JJ
Harting told us that we were allowed to answer in English if we wanted. We
didn’t. There is a German guy who got into the class late and decided to answer
in German (since, of course, our professor also speaks German) and he did
better than most people in the class. We, however, did the whole thing in
Spanish and we did GREAT! We only need a 4.0 out of 7.0 to pass and I was able
to scrounge up a 5.2! Rachel got a 4.9. (I did have to answer one question in
English, so this would account for me beating her, probably.) I will say that a
lot of the Chileans we not happy with their scores. Our professor made the
mistake of passing the test back at the beginning of the class. The ensuing
hour was used for students to basically try to convince our teacher they
deserved better grades, since opinion-based questions can’t be graded. It was
interesting. Especially since we were totally fine with our grades.</div>
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All in all, we like the class a little bit more now.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">William Cole. Keep the proletariat out. </td></tr>
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Friday, April 13, 2012, we went on the <i>Ruta del Vino</i>. (Wine Tour/Tasting) We had the chance to take a bus
to <i>Casablanca</i>, a very well known
valley where many different types of wine are made. We visited two vineyards: <i>Indomita</i> and <i>William Cole</i>. <i>Indomita</i>
was huge and luxurious and had impressive wine cellars. I prefer <i>William Cole</i>, which was smaller but a
lot more beautiful, and they pick their grapes by hand. At both vineyards we
got a personal tour and the chance to taste both white and red wines! I can
honestly say I don’t like wine. At one point I think I said “UGH! I just drank
a forest!” which translates into “It has a nice, woody flavor,” for all you
wine connoisseurs. After we returned we went out for sushi and of course, some
tea.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Indomita.</i> Very elegant. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDL-Dm-6M8RMuKUe8Ltui-SmKBn2o27Nd39mIjOPtIFFdPFJE2rTLnaXl5AEWdhqOeunam6t8jNZjJgqKQnZyHx1ZyTwxHK7qMO_nhpo28uQxQv6jY-y6Z_H5pES3DrXBv-ylWxm-j5AFJ/s1600/DSC_0142.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="347" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDL-Dm-6M8RMuKUe8Ltui-SmKBn2o27Nd39mIjOPtIFFdPFJE2rTLnaXl5AEWdhqOeunam6t8jNZjJgqKQnZyHx1ZyTwxHK7qMO_nhpo28uQxQv6jY-y6Z_H5pES3DrXBv-ylWxm-j5AFJ/s400/DSC_0142.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"UGH! I just drank a forest!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of us like wine more than others.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">not my photo, but this is the church</td></tr>
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This past Sunday, Rachel and I went with our friends Hilary
and Katie to <i>misa</i>, or Mass. There’s
this wonderfully huge, beautiful, old, etc. Catholic church right next to our
school, which we’ve wanted to visit for a while. Hilary and Katie also wanted
to visit it, and were happy to help us poor protestants understand the Catholic
rituals. We didn’t understand a lot of what went on, but it was beautiful on
the inside, and worship with other believers is always great.</div>
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I think that about catches everyone up to speed on our lives
(or at least mine.) We have heard about the recent outbreak of tornados in
Oklahoma and the rest of the Midwest. Our prayers go out to those affected. </div>
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-Colin</div>
<!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622104096545081487.post-3477743173141310552012-04-14T07:00:00.000-03:002012-04-14T12:35:21.146-03:00For Heath and LindseyToday is officially April 14, 2012.<br />
Today some wonderful people get married.<br />
<br />
Heath, Lindsey, you two were engaged by the time I met you. I know we all planned on being together to share this special day (me sitting, you two standing) but life has a funny way of changing our plans.<br />
<br />
I'll never forget how kind you were the first time I met you. I'll never forget how kind you've always been.<br />
And so on this day, April 14, 2012, as you two begin the rest of your lives as husband and wife I wish you all the luck, love, and happiness God can provide.<br />
<br />
Love from Chile.<br />
<br />
-Colin<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622104096545081487.post-38853160027997242962012-04-11T23:45:00.000-03:002012-04-11T23:45:30.792-03:00Peace and Blessings, Ya'll<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’d like to tell you about the precious church we found. <br />
<br />
Quick recap: We spent a few weeks looking for this Church of Christ church we’d
heard about, but I’m still not convinced it exists. Suffice it to say, that was
not a successful adventure. We ended up at an Assembly of God church one week,
which was nice, but still not the right fit. Then Colin’s host mom recommended
that we go check out a church one of her previous host students attended. Even
though we were still on the hunt for the Church of Christ, we decided to go
check it out. Unfortunately, Mama Patty gave us the wrong directions, so we
couldn’t find it either the first time. We decided to give it one more shot the following week, and
that day when we walked into Seis Oriente 24, we discovered a precious piece of
the Kingdom. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWNLVO33iolCDASUv_rgysli_N3IKO0LFMhxLBVp3eecq9vA6vjX7StH9yu02WFcplAqgnExwF-jpc0sgVxpSfT9X72t77sTG-jxklbWwXLxBC1WtO-6oE293C8gv3JWhPk4oMmD1rnEyr/s1600/Cemipre.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWNLVO33iolCDASUv_rgysli_N3IKO0LFMhxLBVp3eecq9vA6vjX7StH9yu02WFcplAqgnExwF-jpc0sgVxpSfT9X72t77sTG-jxklbWwXLxBC1WtO-6oE293C8gv3JWhPk4oMmD1rnEyr/s1600/Cemipre.JPG" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cemipre (whose official name I think is Grace and Peace
Church) is a church plant of the Presbyterian Church in America. Pastor John
and his wife Cathy are missionaries sent by Mission to the World, and their
express goal is to reduce the effects of disabilities in the name of Christ. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY7xwZkath5ssRwnOFjEhT2pc24-7JBoND4SwbaQXJtphGOOgK3w6fHHyrX0nenpS2cW4daNQieGhMw0jOVlcH1bdlfzqYogNrHRYGuHA8hMW2l-Qx7aftwb1b_I11N0nTyiPhhV_Zmp9T/s1600/IMG_1172.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY7xwZkath5ssRwnOFjEhT2pc24-7JBoND4SwbaQXJtphGOOgK3w6fHHyrX0nenpS2cW4daNQieGhMw0jOVlcH1bdlfzqYogNrHRYGuHA8hMW2l-Qx7aftwb1b_I11N0nTyiPhhV_Zmp9T/s320/IMG_1172.JPG" width="229" /></a>
But you wouldn’t know all that from walking in the door on Sunday. When we
walked in at 11:00am (when the service “starts”) the only people there were
Pastor John, Cathy, Tito (the guy who operates the sound equipment) and Juani,
the girl who works the powerpoint for the songs. Cathy immediately greeted us
and asked us about ourselves, where we’re from, etc. Then she introduced us to
John, Tito, and Juani, and invited us to make ourselves comfortable while they
finished setting up. Over the next half hour or so about fifteen more people
filtered in, and nearly everyone came over to us and welcomed us to their
church with a <i>besito</i> and a hug.
Someone passed us a program and the service began. Since Pastor John is
American, his Spanish is rather slower than typical Chilean Spanish, and <i>much</i> easier to understand. This was a
relief to both Colin and I as it is rather exhausting to listen to Chilean
Spanish for extended periods of time. <br />
<br />
Oh and did I mention that over half of the people there are blind or severely
nearsighted? So they print the program in <span style="font-size: 28.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">size 28 font</span> and also in
Braille, which is super awesome. They even have copies of their songbooks in
Braille. Even more notable than that is the fact that this small group of
people is a family. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7zkzPnM9Ag9Uvjwrc43GtjKULhcWGOqIZs3QV4exixtZL3kyUYgUpDd4kw92DzKfj1axfHbUyEpDXHyXMwYigplX3yUOxfeTJRSefO0UxrlFbIPHe_QoSPOIHfAlAqA2_HIAEMJd6hiL4/s1600/Nachito+Apr+6+%25282%2529+(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7zkzPnM9Ag9Uvjwrc43GtjKULhcWGOqIZs3QV4exixtZL3kyUYgUpDd4kw92DzKfj1axfHbUyEpDXHyXMwYigplX3yUOxfeTJRSefO0UxrlFbIPHe_QoSPOIHfAlAqA2_HIAEMJd6hiL4/s320/Nachito+Apr+6+%25282%2529+(1).JPG" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is Sebastián, who goes by<br />Nachito</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This weekend, I got to participate in Cemipre’s Good Friday
service, after which they had a potluck <i>once</i>
and shared sandwiches, tea and desserts together for a few hours. That day I
finally got five-year-old Rebeca, three-year-old Sofia, and five-year-old
Sebastián to talk to me. And man, when five-year-olds start talking, they don’t
stop! We played around outside for over an hour and they taught me all of their
favorite games. We played <i>escondidas</i>
(hide-and-seek), <i>lobos</i>, (which is
when the wolf [me] chases the little children around and tries to eat them),
and just about every variation of every running around/chasing game there is.
The imagination of children astounds me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUdWb4zAn0bZj7RO8dU5mjMlnN37sMpo7SjznmshsJZRS-amdzoab40rbyuFdl6waRTD-z4M0qbV6wu2QhGSAO_Ed-B2v2IJtRL5DBFLCK5UjAmkZMi5asDqu8dH5Us_FXGW3phhOZIcu9/s1600/Rebeca+Apr+6.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUdWb4zAn0bZj7RO8dU5mjMlnN37sMpo7SjznmshsJZRS-amdzoab40rbyuFdl6waRTD-z4M0qbV6wu2QhGSAO_Ed-B2v2IJtRL5DBFLCK5UjAmkZMi5asDqu8dH5Us_FXGW3phhOZIcu9/s320/Rebeca+Apr+6.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is Rebeca after she was eaten by a <i>lobo</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyZJ1_6W-Gvv4yb9i_GiDulMB6oZG63EdM2U_ixeMyjWqWmW9RtRPjy9R1fQ12LOsraOtmbgLIpZE5p5c6iaiKzN2YAvGL5vB0uI5eUUHGH_aYYe0-ChEqluonHCtljyaE3gR88VhCbqbr/s1600/Nachito+Apr+6.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyZJ1_6W-Gvv4yb9i_GiDulMB6oZG63EdM2U_ixeMyjWqWmW9RtRPjy9R1fQ12LOsraOtmbgLIpZE5p5c6iaiKzN2YAvGL5vB0uI5eUUHGH_aYYe0-ChEqluonHCtljyaE3gR88VhCbqbr/s320/Nachito+Apr+6.JPG" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nachito is blowing magic (crushed up <br />leaves) on me so that I turn from a <br />monster back into a human. :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
On Easter morning, the place was packed because over thirty
people showed up, including a family of Americans who spoke English! They
looked a little lost, so I talked to them after the service. We chatted about
life in Chile, since they’ve been here four and a half years off and on with a
research job the father has. They were all very nice, but they don’t speak a
lot of Spanish. On my way out the door, one of the Chilean men thanked me for
speaking to the family and making them feel welcome. I already feel like a part
of the church family.<br />
<!--EndFragment--><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>Rachel Davenporthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07114485023775563678noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622104096545081487.post-29578491938860734022012-04-05T22:03:00.000-03:002012-04-08T20:29:48.760-03:00Los medios de transporte<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, we have mentioned a few modes of transportation, but
until now we haven’t given you the best glimpse of them or their
characteristics. There are some really interesting ones here in Chile.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Micros<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
These exciting, scary, interesting, prayer-inducing vehicles
are the main form of transportation I take every day. They are your typical city
bus, albeit a little smaller than the ones in the States. It’s exhilarating!
Flying around the tight curves in the road, without slowing down. God forbid
you be on one during rush hour. You will be crammed up next to strangers and get to know each other in an
almost Biblical sense, hoping you put on deodorant that morning and that your
breath doesn’t smell too strongly of the tea you just drank. I have mixed views
about the <i>micro</i>. It’s efficient to
use during non-rush hour traffic, and affordable. I’ve had some extremely nice <i>micro</i> drivers and some others who I’m
fairly certain cheated me out of 12¢. What’s more, sometimes they won’t stop.
Whether they’re too full or the driver’s having a bad day, we’ll never know.
They run around the clock, but you might have to wait since there are fewer on
the rode as the night gets later.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>Price</u></b>:
Cheapest. $120, $150, or $180 Chilean pesos with a student bus pass. It’s usually $370
for other times, or for local trips $300. The prices are standard no matter the
time.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq-MebZVf6dnML6HHv-mekBleBXbzQqcLKRi-5Rf9u6bp3r6IJqX07zqY2WuOJThOaOZH3b33x36aAZVSD_gQAxPLjXH1DTBldO5Y0-r0WPff6xSAy-zqmGC8XoXlyXXnhe6W7MeUFh_pr/s1600/IMG_1231.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq-MebZVf6dnML6HHv-mekBleBXbzQqcLKRi-5Rf9u6bp3r6IJqX07zqY2WuOJThOaOZH3b33x36aAZVSD_gQAxPLjXH1DTBldO5Y0-r0WPff6xSAy-zqmGC8XoXlyXXnhe6W7MeUFh_pr/s640/IMG_1231.JPG" width="640" /></a><i> </i><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjePpM69rkCTFzw9EXiS79_SqLx9EtjhqK07sJ3qhQZXFPjakODZiiQxmRyNvma6MkRI0IIur7bOvR3u1W7lD9LmpOmiya7k7AkrA_kEubulwQVR65Hsgg_nP0_mlWLx39UuslLS_1NhRB9/s1600/IMG_1210.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjePpM69rkCTFzw9EXiS79_SqLx9EtjhqK07sJ3qhQZXFPjakODZiiQxmRyNvma6MkRI0IIur7bOvR3u1W7lD9LmpOmiya7k7AkrA_kEubulwQVR65Hsgg_nP0_mlWLx39UuslLS_1NhRB9/s400/IMG_1210.JPG" width="400" /></a><i>Colectivos</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
These interesting vehicles are similar to the <i>micro</i>, in that they have assigned routes
they take everyday. However, they offer you the comfort of less people and
perhaps the possibility of being dropped off exactly where you need to go. It
is literally a car, with a sign on top showing the routes. I have mixed views
on <i>colectivos</i>. I’ve had a few great
drivers who were nice and tried to talk to me about my time in Chile. I’ve also
some quiet ones who didn’t feel the need to look at me, and one whom I’m fairly
certain would have tried to keep my change had I not been staring him down. They
are pretty readily available; more so than the <i>micro</i>, especially as it starts to get later.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>Price</u></b>:
More than a <i>micro</i>. To get to Rachel’s
house from my house will cost me $700 pesos. More local trips could be between
$400 and $600 pesos. However, the price of a <i>colectivo</i> goes up after 11pm. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Metro</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqHcC8CcCmN1zfHMNl4GQdJV1SgSetIpwdq2qj6zBll5kVP7yqrSMk7HRhoYS92-E-0gPPRxNr2HDagiv5eLgN3FkBRPaL3eW9tjVCsi_W5SAhqO-vzkizUnj_gKaRycNSlM9IhNbYKK9M/s1600/IMG_1225.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqHcC8CcCmN1zfHMNl4GQdJV1SgSetIpwdq2qj6zBll5kVP7yqrSMk7HRhoYS92-E-0gPPRxNr2HDagiv5eLgN3FkBRPaL3eW9tjVCsi_W5SAhqO-vzkizUnj_gKaRycNSlM9IhNbYKK9M/s400/IMG_1225.JPG" width="300" /></a>The metro is an amazing invention. Something the states
should incorporate into their mass transit systems… Oh, wait. We have the
subway too. However, <i>el metro</i> is
pretty nice and a very fast way of getting around. It is underground which
offers cover from the elements while you wait. It does have a somewhat more
guaranteed schedule than the <i>micro </i>or <i>colectivo</i>. They open at 6:00am and stop
running most nights at 11:00pm. As mentioned, rush hour can be hectic. You will
also be squished next to people who can’t help but be amused at how pale your
skin is or how blond your hair is. (Or is that just me?) Also, you get the
added excitement of people performing on the <i>metro</i>. Usually it’s a guy with a guitar. Street vendors also make
appearances from time to time: selling their sweets, selling their
bracelets, selling (insert something else you don’t have a need for.) Just say
“<i>no, gracias</i>” and you’ll be fine.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The <i>metro</i> uses a
system wherein you scan your card through a machine that lets you pass the gate
and then when you exit the station, you scan your card again and actually pay
for your ride. The rates vary by day (the weekends are cheaper than weekdays) and by time (during rush hour it's a few pesos more expensive than other times). And of course, the further you go, the more you pay. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>Price</u></b>: A
ride from our school to Rachel’s stop by her house usually costs $273. Not too shabby.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Bus UVM</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitzg5F_x4W9IqYdjL9zqTeWZyFX3L3x9jf6fbQQ1QypuQeICvUMmcHe2CLEyp78R05SzzK1iMv8_D-a-ez2gQKYlQXfDeWzeV8KKb457XU5_lkVSlvmTsid5qA1MvMxxFTdRA8NEi4ZqSq/s1600/IMG_1209.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitzg5F_x4W9IqYdjL9zqTeWZyFX3L3x9jf6fbQQ1QypuQeICvUMmcHe2CLEyp78R05SzzK1iMv8_D-a-ez2gQKYlQXfDeWzeV8KKb457XU5_lkVSlvmTsid5qA1MvMxxFTdRA8NEi4ZqSq/s320/IMG_1209.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Now this monster is what every band or choir kid could
recognize: a charter bus! Once a week Rachel and I catch this sweet ride on our
way to the main UVM (<i>Universidad Viña del
Mar</i>) Campus, <i>Rodelillo</i>. It has a
very specific schedule and has never failed us. It’s a luxurious space inside
with slightly leaning seats (just enough to give you the sleepies before you
arrive for class) and plenty of scholarly chatter. There’s only one thing we
have to watch out for. The last <i>Bus UVM</i>
leaves from the <i>Rodelillo</i> campus at
8:40pm and we get out of class at 8:30pm. It hasn’t been a problem yet though.
What’s more, this bus drops me off at my doorstep since I’m on the way down the
hill. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>Price</u></b>:
FREE!!!! ABSOLUTELY, 100% FREE!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxjVaIzp2HENupO1yEn3CagZbEV358KZJGu8ZqbCUZEa_90XU92oxNPLi7gVJs45TZg-KtT73KeWf11uC72PfLHVueX_yXVxWNV71RMwGedvX7Mrcl9cbDcQLpXhxRzwbIe4LUJnpSvlT9/s1600/IMG_1198.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="287" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxjVaIzp2HENupO1yEn3CagZbEV358KZJGu8ZqbCUZEa_90XU92oxNPLi7gVJs45TZg-KtT73KeWf11uC72PfLHVueX_yXVxWNV71RMwGedvX7Mrcl9cbDcQLpXhxRzwbIe4LUJnpSvlT9/s320/IMG_1198.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">While <i>colectivos</i> are black cars with signs on top, <br />
taxis are black cars with yellow tops.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i>Taxi</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Taxis here are just like back in the states. Call/Hail one,
get in, tell the driver where you want to go, done. Perhaps similar to home (I
wouldn’t know because I’ve never taken one here, or there) <i>taxis</i> are quite expensive. We were told to take one if we didn’t feel safe in an
area or needed to get home quickly. The very cheap part of me says I’ll never
feel the need to use one, and I hope I don’t.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u style="font-weight: bold;">Price</u>: A ride home from somewhere in Viña could easily cost you $20-$40 American dollars, if not more.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<i>Victoria</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Need to get somewhere in style? Take a horse-drawn carriage.
These animals show just how touristy Viña really is. I hear they’re a little
expensive and I’ve never felt the need to take a tour of the city when my feet
are perfectly capable of showing me the way. The horses are pretty and it’s
amusing to watch them slide along the concrete with their horseshoes on. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u style="font-weight: bold;">Price</u>: too much.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxPnlMGxcOzKd1iMxJHJN7GvudhG0npQrcnNadvBRndcUSJOkw0NPOH2b79qhJjL3m1_mZ7NzhQ9qc7oHanl3glFnyV5a02lzh3JDLUMeYTZfA_8HyLnKljhAefCRi62R8Wpz978qNgclJ/s1600/IMG_1181.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxPnlMGxcOzKd1iMxJHJN7GvudhG0npQrcnNadvBRndcUSJOkw0NPOH2b79qhJjL3m1_mZ7NzhQ9qc7oHanl3glFnyV5a02lzh3JDLUMeYTZfA_8HyLnKljhAefCRi62R8Wpz978qNgclJ/s640/IMG_1181.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They look even more touristy than they sound when they're lined up along the edge of the plaza! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk6h5X0ef7ldU25CtihlEBRezq_EgtSaM7GTlY2E_P7Jzv70NKvWh8IWZZYVU_ABKjB_zQoBXuJqfQwT7Vf7QJMw6jZEcbjnUTtrl0ipKXVM1CVlTJ_vgR5FGioUMekWj2CCJGyi9yYJV5/s1600/IMG_1207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk6h5X0ef7ldU25CtihlEBRezq_EgtSaM7GTlY2E_P7Jzv70NKvWh8IWZZYVU_ABKjB_zQoBXuJqfQwT7Vf7QJMw6jZEcbjnUTtrl0ipKXVM1CVlTJ_vgR5FGioUMekWj2CCJGyi9yYJV5/s400/IMG_1207.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Even though they're not public transportation and we won't ever take one,<br />
I like the school "buses" here, so I thought I'd show you! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622104096545081487.post-66242195902970855512012-03-31T19:36:00.000-03:002012-04-14T23:58:45.610-03:00Como se dice "bon appetit?"<br />
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I suppose
the logical place to start would be with the basics. </div>
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<br /></div>
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The basics
here are <i>pan</i> (bread—and lots of it), <i>palta</i> (avocados), and <i>mayonesa</i>. The <i>pan</i> and <i>palta</i> are to die
for. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9KwN26SQKbE9ItrH88mEF_Q4jOIY3TwBgZhBHGrXjCwjmzWskTDDFN6kIIEBQwl92vGeN8t3mUW_dI59_v9IyPvBv8Z2OoULqjabPgt7gihJ1nzinxafVQ7Cjy7TpbDiNY5yb8sLt1HN0/s1600/IMG_1089.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9KwN26SQKbE9ItrH88mEF_Q4jOIY3TwBgZhBHGrXjCwjmzWskTDDFN6kIIEBQwl92vGeN8t3mUW_dI59_v9IyPvBv8Z2OoULqjabPgt7gihJ1nzinxafVQ7Cjy7TpbDiNY5yb8sLt1HN0/s320/IMG_1089.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>Pan</i>:</div>
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The bread
comes in all shapes and sizes, but most often not the sliced loaf-in-a-bag we’re
used to in the States. I took some photos in a lovely little <i>panadería</i> (bakery) we found to show you
how wonderfully unique the bread is. (Hannah, you would die of happiness here.)
My favorite are the round ones in the front with the little dents in the top.
They’re rather more dense than normal bread, but other than that I don’t know
what they do that makes it so delicious. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqkm-NWaQIJ09u-MMPpfEtohsBoJg0Ks89BS5QKZHZVLBbrXVF-towuKYrbUujOFvuxNwC4WMtynfw7bQ_eg8F6hSZMxKU8G5-0wjYERs6nzzaXCyzj0U1InBePvFajSbaVfBVfitcpCOs/s1600/AladdinRachel.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqkm-NWaQIJ09u-MMPpfEtohsBoJg0Ks89BS5QKZHZVLBbrXVF-towuKYrbUujOFvuxNwC4WMtynfw7bQ_eg8F6hSZMxKU8G5-0wjYERs6nzzaXCyzj0U1InBePvFajSbaVfBVfitcpCOs/s400/AladdinRachel.JPG" width="400" /></a> </div>
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The other
day Colin and I were walking around downtown, hungry but not wanting to eat a
full meal, so we went to the <i>panadería</i>
and bought two of the long skinny ones. (They look like either really small French
bread or really huge hot dog buns.) We dubbed them Aladdin bread, mostly
because we felt a lot like Aladdin walking around town eating a loaf of bread.
However, Aladdin wouldn’t have had to steal this bread, because they only cost
100 pesos each. That’s 20 cents. Twenty. Cents. For a giant piece of Aladdin
bread. </div>
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It’s no wonder they eat so much bread down here.<i> </i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>Palta</i>:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc29DonvHyBxQWQNLMadrNMjylIbC-3L11yU8AlcNx5qQ3fWQoywx58EijbAHyQiKEsyJPWfgmz_DPGSqHZK8RoUB6X3ohMgnaqkgi37u-veJ7Uy3r6eEVkrIu6qPnh1AWMs76JvWI56Sm/s1600/IMG_1103.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
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Also not
surprising is the fact that avocados are so much more delicious here than in
the States. I mean, when people point out <i>palta</i>
trees along the side of the road driving home from the airport, what do you
expect? I haven’t tried to buy <i>palta</i>
yet, but I imagine it’s also cheaper here than in the states. Consequently, it
comes on everything. Every sandwich or “hamburger” you order comes with <i>palta</i> on it, up to and including hot
dogs, which is another story altogether. People even eat just bread with <i>palta</i> on it. My favorite version of
salad I’ve seen so far is a bowl of tomato slices plus a bowl of avocado
slices. Delicious. </div>
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<i>Mayonesa</i>:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSgxxMDjzRbCF1aeRGphTZSTN5HihJyuUAbLMjdy14aUpi3AMbvUu4yeZeVIMQK1XMcJlSnL-RkhsmnFF32bp1truRBv9Qanm3a786PN5nzU7_VIoJtY5uzn_EaMTtELXUtW3U8toMtHk5/s1600/IMG_1029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSgxxMDjzRbCF1aeRGphTZSTN5HihJyuUAbLMjdy14aUpi3AMbvUu4yeZeVIMQK1XMcJlSnL-RkhsmnFF32bp1truRBv9Qanm3a786PN5nzU7_VIoJtY5uzn_EaMTtELXUtW3U8toMtHk5/s320/IMG_1029.JPG" width="320" /></a>On a less
delicious note, many people put mayonnaise on everything. Thank heavens my
family doesn’t, or I would look like the pickiest eater ever. Colin’s family,
however, has a bowl of <i>mayonesa</i> out
at every meal, and nearly everything you order at a restaurant will come with
mayo on it. The most interesting thing about mayonnaise is not that it comes on
everything, but rather what it comes <i>in</i>.
Which is bags. That’s right, not jars of glass or even plastic, but bags. I
think the five brands of mayo on the same shelf also gives away how much they
eat it.</div>
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**Sidenote**
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This is not entirely
related to food, but do you want to know what else comes in bags? Everything. From condiments (mayo, but also ketchup and
mustard sometimes), to jelly, to the powdered milk my family makes me every
morning. I even found powdered <i>puré</i> (delicious mashed potatoes) in a
bag in the pantry the other day. After noticing this bag trend in the kitchen,
I began to realize that it’s everywhere. Even the shampoo, hand soap, and
laundry soap comes in bags. I’d be willing to bet that the amount of plastic in
a bag versus a jar or bottle is different enough that it lowers the price, in
which case they’re onto something here, but it still feels a little weird to
squeeze mayonnaise out of a plastic bag. </div>
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<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTF9I-Wbxqr1T8zYxlpMXAt4ICD3f5IW2s0FomgZG_kRqMGUw-K6db2kpiTrqcnzKLcXDz89kELsIr2sKHmoyxcDIZZHDG4svBMvq23SYOnjJmqaI2nN1IJAs0jaAnn6Q7KkB5S3cQuw2A/s1600/IMG_1032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTF9I-Wbxqr1T8zYxlpMXAt4ICD3f5IW2s0FomgZG_kRqMGUw-K6db2kpiTrqcnzKLcXDz89kELsIr2sKHmoyxcDIZZHDG4svBMvq23SYOnjJmqaI2nN1IJAs0jaAnn6Q7KkB5S3cQuw2A/s320/IMG_1032.JPG" width="282" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Powdered mashed potatoes, powdered milk, and jelly</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifbca169VVw5vkhkUVR1RATfZfloiZUEA6EztjVvJg-3HTGF62pAsTl-L4qmpmptVWMCW3CIUgkAbZXIg8cap9hAWDrgsF3c1VqVGqMmi0o-9zMKJn7uK4zTMQT1peG6c1u9ttRGa5oHmM/s1600/IMG_1096.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="305" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifbca169VVw5vkhkUVR1RATfZfloiZUEA6EztjVvJg-3HTGF62pAsTl-L4qmpmptVWMCW3CIUgkAbZXIg8cap9hAWDrgsF3c1VqVGqMmi0o-9zMKJn7uK4zTMQT1peG6c1u9ttRGa5oHmM/s320/IMG_1096.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hand soap- there is also shampoo and detergent</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<i> </i><i><br /></i></div>
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Chilean Food</div>
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</div>
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The <i>Completo </i></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3G1OtNWF5ccqrmC4ayCCUMk6XuKuP_DXUZd-nZdAiegidh3rBmucEBjtToc6rlkFh3r_hWm_Gxt_rwgzcfgy2cEWnlfpO_f2qlfLadXlSEbvNKaCt2_ANn3Xpk62MuTCVOaP-K4eM8-aJ/s1600/completo-italiano.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3G1OtNWF5ccqrmC4ayCCUMk6XuKuP_DXUZd-nZdAiegidh3rBmucEBjtToc6rlkFh3r_hWm_Gxt_rwgzcfgy2cEWnlfpO_f2qlfLadXlSEbvNKaCt2_ANn3Xpk62MuTCVOaP-K4eM8-aJ/s320/completo-italiano.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Every time I have ordered a <i>completo</i> I have been<br />
so consumed by eating it that I forgot to take pictures.<br />
So I shamelessly stole this one off the internet. :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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What could
be more logical than combining all the staples of your diet into one glorious
conglomeration of deliciousness? Nothing. That’s why they created the <i>completo</i>. (At least, that’s my theory…)
First, you take Aladdin bread and slice it open longways along the top. Then,
place a large-ish hot dog inside (there will still be plenty of bread on both
ends). Next, stuff chopped tomatoes anywhere you can find room without
overflowing out of the bread. Then smear mashed-up <i>palta</i> over the whole thing till it looks like there’s probably more
<i>palta</i> than bread. Finally (if so
desired), dump blobs of mayo on top. The result is the most delicious
hot-dog-related food you will ever eat. Especially if there is indeed more <i>palta</i> than bread. And the best part is
that depending on where you go and how big your <i>completo</i> is, it will only cost you between $1.50 and $2.75. </div>
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The <i>Chorrillana</i></div>
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If the <i>completo</i> will be my downfall here, the <i>chorrillana</i> just might be Colin’s. You
might be tempted to think that a dish based around French fries and meat has
got to be American, but there is no equal to the <i>chorrillana</i> in the States. Essentially, it’s a giant plate of thick
French fries, with sautéed onions and tiny pieces of fried egg dumped over the
fries, topped with any (or every) kind of meat you can imagine. This beauty is
a <i>chorrillana especial</i>, which has <i>lomo</i>, <i>viennesas</i> (hot dog), and something else I can’t remember. It’s
amazing. Colin and I have tried to split one between the two of us twice, but
we failed to finish both times. Splitting one between three people, however,
seems to be the magic portion size. Me and some of the other <i>gringas</i> demolished our <i>chorrillanas</i> the other night. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk2QBMBofwpqp6nGlYVPmsTbgMoqKVV7i2awSywYwSmtXniR9_rc8MkJiwiOWBUsT1RL1BWXIuQkTS7-4xBuH_v6S9p0_r0z1vsnuokXHOOAghFh9wOyDOdKlx83vN5a_i6CelD5pexD3F/s1600/chorrillanas.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk2QBMBofwpqp6nGlYVPmsTbgMoqKVV7i2awSywYwSmtXniR9_rc8MkJiwiOWBUsT1RL1BWXIuQkTS7-4xBuH_v6S9p0_r0z1vsnuokXHOOAghFh9wOyDOdKlx83vN5a_i6CelD5pexD3F/s640/chorrillanas.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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The <i>Té</i></div>
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-zggfa5-LxwRNY6LwZY0dLEuZimkCCqkmKwimqutasrR5g2PzbNltRU9_iOMn-S1qMzlG7-771MIW-nCVVoFRtjN1t5mBukYOppcoT4y8LIhxtj0yD9ROBPrRciLPlr9qFefXUy0iatvI/s1600/IMG_1116.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-zggfa5-LxwRNY6LwZY0dLEuZimkCCqkmKwimqutasrR5g2PzbNltRU9_iOMn-S1qMzlG7-771MIW-nCVVoFRtjN1t5mBukYOppcoT4y8LIhxtj0yD9ROBPrRciLPlr9qFefXUy0iatvI/s320/IMG_1116.JPG" width="240" /></a>On a more
cultured, less terribly unhealthy note, tea is very popular here. Because of
the strong European influence in Argentina and Chile, they are the only two
countries where tea is more popular than coffee. (It’s a good thing I don’t
like coffee, because my options would essentially be Nescafé instant coffee, or
a $5.75 cup of Starbucks.) Sometimes a taste of home is worth $5.75 though, and
Colin and I have been to Starbucks once a week so far to taste home and do
homework. </div>
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However, in
an effort to find a slightly more economical (and Chilean) place to do our
homework and become regulars, Colin and I have been café-hunting! We had some
success at Mango’s, where we ordered <i>té
nacional con leche</i>. Who knew that “with milk” meant that you get a teacup
full of hot milk, and a tea bag? Regardless of being totally not what we
expected, it was delicious, and we hope to return. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg276z_vZo-_wjX2AplReQvJtvzH3Ch_2CUMOaAfvj8t3wKh1WA8Tc9b98dix2K3N5G53DOqVLou33a5lOy0sPb4vIU-NJGLCkCRQTWzArJwHIQxoNanwDiwjRgbYrahIHe6lJlpOt8_xPN/s1600/IMG_1110.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg276z_vZo-_wjX2AplReQvJtvzH3Ch_2CUMOaAfvj8t3wKh1WA8Tc9b98dix2K3N5G53DOqVLou33a5lOy0sPb4vIU-NJGLCkCRQTWzArJwHIQxoNanwDiwjRgbYrahIHe6lJlpOt8_xPN/s320/IMG_1110.JPG" width="240" /></a>The <i>Helado</i></div>
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While it is
most certainly more American than Chilean, <i>helado </i>(ice cream) has become an important part of our time here. When Starbucks is
too far away or too expensive, we found a little place right next to the Plaza
where they sell soft-serve McDonald’s-style strawberry or chocolate ice cream
for 350 pesos. That’s 71 cents for a delicious, sugary taste of home. As you
can see, we enjoy treating ourselves!</div>
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<br /></div>Rachel Davenporthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07114485023775563678noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622104096545081487.post-389273358173212582012-03-25T17:35:00.001-03:002012-03-25T18:17:13.288-03:00oh the places we'll go.<br />
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It’s been almost a week and a lot seems to have happened!
The beginning of the week was rather slow. We didn’t have classes on Monday so
we spent the day lounging and resting for the week's upcoming classes.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDvJqxE9PFO7o8XFGEwRy1dr0Ozwyqwh4nMMZFyQeWEBqjHdzD-uU1aaLq9m5n-QUWGFJMYUvc7U_Q2-YgvPX-0IngHi_FKgs30FZRcaBqNmkGlOFNaYhjSf-BEtan3G7K6Y8cP0M0FkgD/s1600/540775_10150596958026486_537076485_9533266_677493354_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDvJqxE9PFO7o8XFGEwRy1dr0Ozwyqwh4nMMZFyQeWEBqjHdzD-uU1aaLq9m5n-QUWGFJMYUvc7U_Q2-YgvPX-0IngHi_FKgs30FZRcaBqNmkGlOFNaYhjSf-BEtan3G7K6Y8cP0M0FkgD/s400/540775_10150596958026486_537076485_9533266_677493354_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br />
Tuesday was a good day. Our first class was cancelled by our
teacher, who in fact sent me a text message to tell me that class was
cancelled. (This could only happen because our class is so small, but it was
strange to have a professor text me all the same.) Rachel and I still met
up so that we could pick our <i>carnet</i>
(Chilean identification cards) at the <i>Registro
Civil.</i> We both didn’t actually get them until later in the week, but now we have
them! --></div>
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Afterwards, I went home with her and we had some sort of
pasta with a cream sauce and a side of hot dogs. More lounging ensued and we
caught the University bus up the hill for our business class at the <i>Rodelillo</i> campus. Again, it was hard to
keep up with the professor. We even lost some cool points with him since we’ve
never read anything by Kurt Vonnegut or <u>A People’s History of America</u> by
Howard Zinn. (Obviously, we’re just uncultured <i>gringos</i> doing nothing with our lives.) Nevertheless, our teacher
still seems nice, although his lectures are somewhat random.</div>
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Wednesday brought more class. Our teacher was back and
feeling better so we pressed on. Afterwards, Rachel and I went back to my place
for lunch. More lounging ensued. We both stumbled out of a nap later and
decided to go to <i>La Plaza de Viña</i> and
find some ice cream.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKMvIPsmER1AJME_INxQ5HvaR5eyu6XlVsIN-VJzgtJ_yEFkzotKK-pJ8-J0l_HUCZV8S6nPnjtjfpGSIerv6WD4BQ66q_g2HALhfVg5vaBT2bjCN9jv0NS8IuCV2hkHBR4n-dNiQGKI40/s1600/DSC_0007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKMvIPsmER1AJME_INxQ5HvaR5eyu6XlVsIN-VJzgtJ_yEFkzotKK-pJ8-J0l_HUCZV8S6nPnjtjfpGSIerv6WD4BQ66q_g2HALhfVg5vaBT2bjCN9jv0NS8IuCV2hkHBR4n-dNiQGKI40/s640/DSC_0007.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love this plaza. Perfect mix of sunshine, shade, and stray dogs. </td></tr>
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In the plaza we tried some delicious soft serve and people-watched. We went home afterward to eat <i>once</i>
and meet up later for a birthday party which some of our new classmates from our Tuesday night class
had invited us to. After deliberating a while over our 8:20am class in the morning, we decided to go since we
really haven’t made too many friends who are <i>hispanohablantes
nativos</i>. The party was at <i>Me robó el corazón</i>, which is close-ish to the mall. We only got a little lost finding the place, but arrived
all the same. It was fun. We got
there a little before 11pm and started meeting new people. At one point, I
told Rachel I thought the place was getting busier and she just laughed at
me. When we left at 12:45am (which is still early for most Chileans, mind you)
the place was packed and a line had formed outside. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_WVmi-bpsd1vZ403wrd6Dge8vZU0t5z5GJlMQY7XLC9PC5IHK0jkbgL15wXx9WRB6uG47b_Frh3Tq_pGLr3n3p0MwL48XD9TFV4PtVegWaoAqZUjBB5BkrjiJKsu_UWnAVaNxAWaQK8bo/s1600/DSC_0022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_WVmi-bpsd1vZ403wrd6Dge8vZU0t5z5GJlMQY7XLC9PC5IHK0jkbgL15wXx9WRB6uG47b_Frh3Tq_pGLr3n3p0MwL48XD9TFV4PtVegWaoAqZUjBB5BkrjiJKsu_UWnAVaNxAWaQK8bo/s320/DSC_0022.jpg" title="Billetas y Monedas" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDUI851glxBqPUtO-m5ha-5xdauaLnMKu7MT0JJ9GynZm0AauTmfSt3GZ8Rb8AujyKHztOHgWSH_GW5q4jRQhzyPsIGwCpizdqQ4WOM6cTLAbEGYulLcm9-9lA6xEGtH6YNZxKWOMSSbNZ/s1600/DSC_0013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDUI851glxBqPUtO-m5ha-5xdauaLnMKu7MT0JJ9GynZm0AauTmfSt3GZ8Rb8AujyKHztOHgWSH_GW5q4jRQhzyPsIGwCpizdqQ4WOM6cTLAbEGYulLcm9-9lA6xEGtH6YNZxKWOMSSbNZ/s320/DSC_0013.jpg" width="320" /></a>Thursday, we have a class at 8:20am. I’m not trying to argue
that this is early, but if you’ve ever had an early class, you can understand
my plight. I woke up a little later than I wanted to, but still had time to get
to class. Unfortunately, I waited a long time for a <i>micro</i> and when I finally got one, it was packed. What’s worse is
that I was overcharged. I paid for a Student Bus Pass, which enables me to pay
less for transportation at certain times. With the Student pass, I usually pay
either 120, 160, or 180 Chilean pesos, depending on the bus. (This is between .25¢ and .37¢ in
American dollars.) Without the pass, I would pay the normal
fee of 370 Chilean pesos, which is around .76¢. I got on a bus that claimed students paid 120 pesos, and
gave the driver 200 pesos and my pass. He looked at me, the pass, back to me,
and then gave me 20 pesos as change. I stared at him. He had cheated me out of
60 pesos, <b>flagrantly</b>. I didn’t say
anything. How could I argue with a man who had a packed bus full of people
about how this <i>gringo</i> needed his
.12¢? But on principle, I was shocked. I went to class in a foul mood and later
found out that since my bus pass is private, it might account for the higher
fee. I’m not buying it. </div>
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Oh, and I was late to class. (Woe is me, woe is me, right?)</div>
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After class Rachel and I went to Starbucks do homework and I
bought my $5.75 cup of Jo. (Yeah, it’s a lot more expensive here than in the
States.) I love Thursdays after class at Starbucks, because it’s a chill place
to do homework, use free WiFi, and of course, people-watch.</div>
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Later in the day we went to an orientation meeting at the
elementary school we are volunteering at. Now, there were eight of us, so we had to
take two <i>colectivos</i>, and as luck
would have it, Rachel and I went in the one without our group leader who knew
how to get to the school. The driver had assured her before we left he knew
exactly where to go. Fifteen minutes later we showed up at the school and said
goodbye to the man, only to find out from a <i>niño</i>
that we were at the wrong one! Then, the school principal came out and started
talking to us about how we’re actually pretty far from the correct school (<i>Paul Harris Colegio</i>) and how we can’t
really walk there. This guy’s a saint, because he ended up driving the four of us
stranded <i>gringos</i> all the way to Paul Harris in his own car.
After thanking him many times we finally made it! We are excited to start volunteering this
coming week and will post more about it later. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisFIXcak3wiIiVgP5Qv3FiC-pvoTSPmnFtrN1JJzARUpAt2qM3jbuROzPHuvXmOZpHOn4o5FQKQ8OlnkTUoVwRVrgsM1a9TZGdEA89CD5oZ5qTCWn7H0CGFaG_nkffBG9-_wKYhQ6rCkCa/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisFIXcak3wiIiVgP5Qv3FiC-pvoTSPmnFtrN1JJzARUpAt2qM3jbuROzPHuvXmOZpHOn4o5FQKQ8OlnkTUoVwRVrgsM1a9TZGdEA89CD5oZ5qTCWn7H0CGFaG_nkffBG9-_wKYhQ6rCkCa/s320/images.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
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After the meeting, Rachel, Sarah, and I went to the mall and
met some of our American friends to see <i>Los
Juegos del Hambre</i> (The Hunger Games!) One of the perks of this country is
that usually movies come out a day earlier here than in the States. So, 8 hours
before any of my family and friends back home, Rachel and I witnessed the
emotional roller coaster of Suzanne Collins. It was good, and the only drawback
was looking past Spanish subtitles the whole movie. </div>
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Later, a few of us went out for some food and/or walking
around to pass a few hours. </div>
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Friday, we had a make-up class for the class on Tuesday that
was cancelled. (I can’t believe we actually had a make-up class. That would
never fly in the U.S.) We met up with our friend Hillary to do homework after class and enjoyed the rest of the afternoon walking, talking, and eating more <i>helado</i> (ice cream). </div>
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Saturday was awesome. We had to be at the campus at 8:30
because 30 of us exchange students went on a tour of Satiago, the nation’s
capitol!!! The trip was marvelous! This city is huge with around 7 million
people and so many buildings. We didn’t have a tour guide, rather our
International Student Coordinator, Carlos, walked us places and showed us cool stuff. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy5MnpihxTa7FHxZuUVaK2c22HEEU7n0VRS9-V-g-Hxpb6cT0p2M1cDDOrXe5IkiZYx_1SAtBj3PWp5jXunnhmavrruQTB7saeo1xvKo0ff1RmjZ7aEdYBwz_8ehgLJA1gwsRb8hmjhawL/s1600/DSC_0006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy5MnpihxTa7FHxZuUVaK2c22HEEU7n0VRS9-V-g-Hxpb6cT0p2M1cDDOrXe5IkiZYx_1SAtBj3PWp5jXunnhmavrruQTB7saeo1xvKo0ff1RmjZ7aEdYBwz_8ehgLJA1gwsRb8hmjhawL/s640/DSC_0006.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Palacio de Moneda</i> - Similar to the White House, but the president doesn't live here.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0bQ29n2tsi70yohw5ucKFGFli87XtrPNNBGy9Vh9HaDsHr0f3Edj-9JBjSxR8kHOdr-PX-LLPl6F1S7vmXg4f95GyjGhTpTXYLq9sshVGmLF-5eDdqCiqwNAybkt-DHuCurwwcjFOTq2q/s1600/DSC_0008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0bQ29n2tsi70yohw5ucKFGFli87XtrPNNBGy9Vh9HaDsHr0f3Edj-9JBjSxR8kHOdr-PX-LLPl6F1S7vmXg4f95GyjGhTpTXYLq9sshVGmLF-5eDdqCiqwNAybkt-DHuCurwwcjFOTq2q/s320/DSC_0008.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Carabineros</i>- Chilean Police Force</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMKlCRO8TQUPRjripyT2TQkwDTb7BjO23bUu138PCsGKyjd_srLcLWuDO3WMG42ks1_A1S_E1kd5HbCLk7KE9I0YZ45teNZiw-EMaO6uD6BMSFkGlBa3rnob15Ch2A4CnGnPn45qxS_d89/s1600/DSC_0020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMKlCRO8TQUPRjripyT2TQkwDTb7BjO23bUu138PCsGKyjd_srLcLWuDO3WMG42ks1_A1S_E1kd5HbCLk7KE9I0YZ45teNZiw-EMaO6uD6BMSFkGlBa3rnob15Ch2A4CnGnPn45qxS_d89/s320/DSC_0020.jpg" width="247" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Caribineros</i> on horses with spears. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkW_BDk7DgBFAMUlFdROV00FV-UXXAwvyHcOle3UMnTABZM_y_lrfyiPkpXAGaFNu5u2Y4yXnu25gz3ned0l48cLrbl1u8eUGmR1latsOVf5frv97OihA26IUTxSBZZbOQMZD9W3lWYmSL/s1600/DSC_0035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkW_BDk7DgBFAMUlFdROV00FV-UXXAwvyHcOle3UMnTABZM_y_lrfyiPkpXAGaFNu5u2Y4yXnu25gz3ned0l48cLrbl1u8eUGmR1latsOVf5frv97OihA26IUTxSBZZbOQMZD9W3lWYmSL/s640/DSC_0035.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A neat statue in one of Santiago's many plazas. Might refer to the <i>Mapuche</i> people who are indigenous to Chile </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKslfr4IczC3JIJdsKhxdRVMxr2ADzuIKCM0sMA2qf2hB44Lwdih-zZH7NKMIRVgilgd2jremDPIxxwI1tUMpiMGic1U4OQsVBk3qDTpscp80NnuNMseBcfgeTVgnMGADmA9VxYrSOt-i1/s1600/DSC_0063.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKslfr4IczC3JIJdsKhxdRVMxr2ADzuIKCM0sMA2qf2hB44Lwdih-zZH7NKMIRVgilgd2jremDPIxxwI1tUMpiMGic1U4OQsVBk3qDTpscp80NnuNMseBcfgeTVgnMGADmA9VxYrSOt-i1/s640/DSC_0063.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>La Catedral de Santiago, Chile</i> - It's beautiful.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjllQY4qtum1yZ3BOEH7PXuR1Sk-lTImFCs5ilFGiUiWu9MjyyQvyydljrWloamd4AEB_umatsJEZf3b57Of6Q5OQ89BUSokYlY4SVPVAT46nO4d8P6pMRJ5w5S7VBf3yJGuTSCr6zm2be/s1600/DSC_0044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjllQY4qtum1yZ3BOEH7PXuR1Sk-lTImFCs5ilFGiUiWu9MjyyQvyydljrWloamd4AEB_umatsJEZf3b57Of6Q5OQ89BUSokYlY4SVPVAT46nO4d8P6pMRJ5w5S7VBf3yJGuTSCr6zm2be/s640/DSC_0044.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside the cathedral. I was rushed, so these didn't turn out so well.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxzYAhyiXN7G42mGcRb-e1jEnEQqxUBlbI-wjiIuU_AS01h9akMhi_K6mWuuIx0DGpEWhb3NX05msLiBOoSUG_umY2VasYFKCUX1qB9rRmY5Cg2TQjdok-DRJCG7YZcnjDCWQuC3SVu_LE/s1600/DSC_0052.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxzYAhyiXN7G42mGcRb-e1jEnEQqxUBlbI-wjiIuU_AS01h9akMhi_K6mWuuIx0DGpEWhb3NX05msLiBOoSUG_umY2VasYFKCUX1qB9rRmY5Cg2TQjdok-DRJCG7YZcnjDCWQuC3SVu_LE/s640/DSC_0052.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm beside myself with the beauty in this building.</td></tr>
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We ended the day on a huge hill, <i>Cumbre Cerro San Cristóbal</i>, where you can look in any direction and
see most of the city. I took some great shots, but there is an awful lot of
smog in the air, which accounts for the haziness. My host father told me later
the it’s the fourth worst city for air pollution, since most of the city
resides in a valley. (Similar to Los Angeles and Mexico City.)</div>
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The view was spectacular after all though!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieXSl24GEj2sf3CApsL5_ceM4BphCKVFckteHHqDboJqOwdrZOVeZ-ScXJEZczWXJOve-OYOzieP5NlJceXBHSPoXCbxb7aIuxu8A052GDtFGp4sSxW2fNSNGiL4U9Rc44bx6YkNVoP1cw/s1600/DSC_0081.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieXSl24GEj2sf3CApsL5_ceM4BphCKVFckteHHqDboJqOwdrZOVeZ-ScXJEZczWXJOve-OYOzieP5NlJceXBHSPoXCbxb7aIuxu8A052GDtFGp4sSxW2fNSNGiL4U9Rc44bx6YkNVoP1cw/s640/DSC_0081.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the view in almost every direction.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smog. And they say cigarettes kill you fast.</td></tr>
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At the top of the hill is a large sculpture depicting the Virgin Mary. There's a place to light candles and pray.<br />
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Today, Rachel and I found a church that we think we'll be attending the rest of our time here. It's a very small church and Pastor John is blind. His wife, Cathy, was extremely kind to us and we were happy to worship with fellow Chilean believers. I'm not exactly sure what kind of church it is, but they love Jesus Christ and they didn't mention the word "predestined" anywhere in the sermon. I think we'll be happy there. But more on that later.</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><b>"Que la suerte esté siempre de tu lado!"</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">-Colin</span></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622104096545081487.post-79097036714503864682012-03-19T15:26:00.000-03:002012-03-19T15:26:49.992-03:00The weekend I thought would be boring<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<b>Thursday:</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbbSMhhR4g2CXgHPyrdSPGuX5YZE8ktnb8bNaZ6HTfbaIZdViIfXg6pn-tlkxmnDDfCANGXErityK-7aZa5jfDYskgdewSJ472NR-cKAeZI0UtY570riF-vYU3hfLlu37Y2janX2dwyfx9/s1600/IMG_1024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbbSMhhR4g2CXgHPyrdSPGuX5YZE8ktnb8bNaZ6HTfbaIZdViIfXg6pn-tlkxmnDDfCANGXErityK-7aZa5jfDYskgdewSJ472NR-cKAeZI0UtY570riF-vYU3hfLlu37Y2janX2dwyfx9/s400/IMG_1024.JPG" width="400" /></a>After another long, hard day of lazing around the house with our families, Colin and I decided to go out and experience some Chilean food in
downtown Vi<span>ñ</span>a. His
family recommended a few restaurants, among them the deceptively-named
“Africa.” So since we knew where that one was (it’s hard to miss with the giant
elephant outside the second-story window), we headed that direction. </div>
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While we
were standing outside examining the menu, a waiter opened the door and said “<i>Buenas tardes, </i><i><span>¿</span>como est</i><i><span>á</span>n?</i>
…Do you guys speak English?” It turns out Camilo is Chilean, but lived in
Virginia for 15 years until he moved back down here with his wife and
one-year-old son. He was super nice and talked to us the entire time we were
eating and we all ended up exchanging phone numbers so we could hang out
sometime and so his wife could have some English-speaking friends. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you’ve ever been in a foreign country, you may have noticed
that the fashions are often very, <i>very</i>
different than in the States. And if you’ve ever been to Latin America, you
might have commented on the fact that some things (like the music,
occasionally) seem to be on a 10ish year delay from our culture in the US. So
what, you may ask, is in style in Chile? None other than the <span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Fanny Pack</span>!!
Perhaps just because they’re highly practical in a crowded city environment,
but it seems that at least half the people here are rocking this ‘80s fashion
statement. And one of our own has joined their number… Colin now sports a
Chilean <i>banano!</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVJTxOtmEiyg6yJE2LNHNe3Z6RwqhHob7sessSqRZdfxYS-I5YqTwDYrx_4FlpNvV9aWorVeS6i_6dbAfijE5xMN6PBnIo8CNzQ9MJr1XqJ0zFMMlUqEPK2iX-cXg13jj-lqO7xEl9t08H/s1600/IMG_1023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVJTxOtmEiyg6yJE2LNHNe3Z6RwqhHob7sessSqRZdfxYS-I5YqTwDYrx_4FlpNvV9aWorVeS6i_6dbAfijE5xMN6PBnIo8CNzQ9MJr1XqJ0zFMMlUqEPK2iX-cXg13jj-lqO7xEl9t08H/s640/IMG_1023.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colin's super awesome <i>banano</i>--all the rage in Chile! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
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<b style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Friday:</b> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Student Metro Card Part One: There is always an insanely
long line at the Vi<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">ñ</span>a
metro station customer service desk, and since that’s where I have to go to get
my student discount card, I decided it would be way better to take a buddy. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hilary Gibson is also from OU!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So
Hilary and I went Friday afternoon and when we had figured out what we were
going to say, we walked up to the desk to ask what in the world we were
supposed to do (since there was no apparent line, but a LOT of people waiting
around), and the guy told us that there were no more numbers (Whatever that means?) and to come back
very early the next morning. To be continued…</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Friday was also Sidney’s 27<sup>th</sup> birthday! He invited
me and Colin to his party, so we got to hang out with my host brother and four
of his best friends all night. When I say all night, I mean the US version of
all night (like til 2am), not the Chilean version, which is until 5 or 6am. All
of his friends were very nice and tried to include us in their
<span style="font-size: x-small;">superduperfastSpanish</span> conversations, but Colin and I mostly listened and
learned since we couldn’t quite keep up. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Saturday:</span></b> </div>
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<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It also goes down the stairs,
curves around a corner, and along a wall, then into the office.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Student Metro Card Part Two: The customer service desk opens
at 9am, so Hilary and I figured that would be a good time to show up there.
When we did, this is what the line looked like:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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It did,
however, move surprisingly fast, and within 45 minutes, we were again at the
desk, handing over our passports and certifications. This time the lady asked
for our phone numbers, gave us a slip of paper, and said they’d call us within 15
days. Fifteen. Days. ...So Hilary and I have learned to laugh at our adventures, but we hope
this one will come to a close soon. </div>
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Saturday evening, all the international students met up and
went to a <i>f</i><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">ú</span>tbol</i>
game together. While I think we were more excited about the <i>churros</i> we got to snack on in the
stadium than the actual game, we did get to show our spirit when <i>Everton</i>
scored two goals! </div>
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<![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">¡Goooooooooooooooooooooooooooool!</span></td></tr>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<b>Sunday:</b></div>
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<br /></div>
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Colin and I got to hang out with our new friend Camilo, his
wife, Jennifer, and their precious son, Leo on Sunday evening. We took the
metro out to <i>Villa Alemana</i>, where
they live, and spent the evening playing with Leo, then sharing drinks in “downtown”
<i>Villa Alemana</i>, then delicious Chilean
food at their house, followed by watching Contagion til one in the morning. (As
a side note, I’m never touching anyone or anything ever again.) Afterward,
Camilo drove us to the bus stop so we could take a <i>micro</i> back home. It was a little scary standing outside by ourselves in
Who-Knows-Where, Chile at 1am, but we’re pretty sure we were sent an angel in
disguise. This precious <i>vago</i> showed
up at our bus stop when sketchy people were driving by, and waited there with us nearly
an hour until we finally got on the <i>micro</i>.
We named him <i>Angelito</i>. </div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs3ltBSnY7T2rBfXpEdKdvXwLbXO49UTX7WJltTId7xnDswkS1vB7Eep1FXqio8sPH4kp5XIehMc8AabK4ytdXyMS-JwN6hW3TK_1TWDixH8mDSZQH_vK_h-igt1NcAADH4jJUTO7g_xUo/s1600/IMG_1027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs3ltBSnY7T2rBfXpEdKdvXwLbXO49UTX7WJltTId7xnDswkS1vB7Eep1FXqio8sPH4kp5XIehMc8AabK4ytdXyMS-JwN6hW3TK_1TWDixH8mDSZQH_vK_h-igt1NcAADH4jJUTO7g_xUo/s400/IMG_1027.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We're pretty sure <i>Angelito</i> was an angel in disguise. </td></tr>
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I hope every weekend is as exciting as this one was! </div>
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<br /></div>Rachel Davenporthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07114485023775563678noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622104096545081487.post-71985054195390281752012-03-15T18:21:00.000-03:002012-03-20T22:11:41.759-03:00An adventure<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This week began the start of classes for most of us here in Chile, but thanks to the most excellent planning of Rachel Davenport neither she nor myself have classes on Mondays or Fridays! So what are two able-bodied </span><i style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">gringos</i><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> with nothing but time on their hands to do with a day of freedom? I'm glad you asked. We went to</span></span> <i><span style="font-size: large;">Concón</span></i>. <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This is a town about 30 minutes north of </span><i style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Viña</i><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> where there are some beaches and other stuff to occupy yourself.</span></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0JFESmK9GR2d_d8IM-DokomqIbvOsExVP6mZu34pc-Cg4jOGRez31SJM2IjxiHMLmxgoQwLn8uOaRa-EenO9Ga_rFHy_Ps1sHVyYL7qfrgqZ8hAS5x61x8xCPeGJOMsucMaWfF6NJEfOd/s1600/DSC_0022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0JFESmK9GR2d_d8IM-DokomqIbvOsExVP6mZu34pc-Cg4jOGRez31SJM2IjxiHMLmxgoQwLn8uOaRa-EenO9Ga_rFHy_Ps1sHVyYL7qfrgqZ8hAS5x61x8xCPeGJOMsucMaWfF6NJEfOd/s640/DSC_0022.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>founded, August 1541</i> - long before America was born. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Now, this might not seem very interesting to some of you more experienced explorers, but I'm not very brave when it comes to going places I've never been/seen/heard about. For all I knew, I'd fall off the edge of the earth as soon as we left <i>Viña</i> city limits. Fortunately, we didn't. We paid the bus driver, found a seat, and drove off into the wild unknown.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">We got off in some neighborhood and started heading downhill,</span> </span><b style="color: blue;">beach-ward</b>. <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Who knows how long we walked, but we made it to the Pacific soon enough. This was my first time at a beach beach. ¿<i>Cachai? </i>(Do you understand?) I've been to South Padre Island, TX and gulfed it up. I've been to Cape Cod and swam in harbor there, but this was my first experience with a body of water not engulfed, not harbored, a water <i>sin fin</i>.</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg74byOCWPXfyTIRMdutOt8yxoGoMZmE_2jVPIkn7nF1rwFsqsgLHBX6wMYUy8zxZnvFkbYQRmT9M-_2ZUfzeVSSp6-KoUPyxiQwbhISbw2fSWbQnlrAnvCSGwtnghKj29uI7kFWNoZCSNr/s1600/DSC_0009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg74byOCWPXfyTIRMdutOt8yxoGoMZmE_2jVPIkn7nF1rwFsqsgLHBX6wMYUy8zxZnvFkbYQRmT9M-_2ZUfzeVSSp6-KoUPyxiQwbhISbw2fSWbQnlrAnvCSGwtnghKj29uI7kFWNoZCSNr/s400/DSC_0009.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look how tan we are!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHH9i2DZRfDeUYvFd82YM0hnfLu_V4mgMjRHrHIVXVpk9QjQrthiRPEKxsdKWsiPBqXDg5xMaOCrebQDDlWrgPbzAtT1WHX0hv2s4UwjwEpvuY0IaZFMwN-b_2cDi5OSeZ7u2yk74VliT2/s1600/DSC_0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHH9i2DZRfDeUYvFd82YM0hnfLu_V4mgMjRHrHIVXVpk9QjQrthiRPEKxsdKWsiPBqXDg5xMaOCrebQDDlWrgPbzAtT1WHX0hv2s4UwjwEpvuY0IaZFMwN-b_2cDi5OSeZ7u2yk74VliT2/s400/DSC_0003.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">big, cold, and deep.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;">We walked around exploring a bit but had to be back in <i>Viña</i> at
6pm for a meeting about volunteering! It seems we have a few options as
exchange students to give back to the city, but we are shooting for
helping with an english class at a local <i>colegio</i> (high school). It would be a great way to be in contact with some Chileans, which we haven't been successful at!</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Tuesday came and brought with it our
first class! It's a basic Spanish grammar class but I'm grateful for the
review and it makes me less frustrated since I at least can understand
my professor. (she's also a twin!) Rachel and I went back to her place
for lunch where we had this tasty bean soup. They resembled black-eyed
peas and there was corn also thrown in the mix. Like I said tasty.
(Remind me later to tell you more about Chilean cuisine.) </span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;">At 6pm we were up at the main college
campus for our business class with Chileans (or lack thereof). Our
Professor is really nice, and even spent some time in the states, but
boy is his spanish fast and hard to understand. (I speak, only for
myself.) But, as I was saying, there is a lack of Chileans in our class.
There are 7 Mexicans, 5 Chileans, 3 <i>Estadounidenses</i>, and 2
Peruvians. Very diverse, haha. Spanish has never made my brain hurt as
much as it did that night, but we are staying in the class. How else are
we going to learn, unless we struggle through it?</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;">The rest of the week passed by without too much commotion. We went to the beach here in <i>Viña,</i> yesterday
afternoon. I sincerely regret not packing a swimsuit. But the water is
too cold to swim. Today was kind of a lazy day, since it's cloudy, cold
and a little rainy. I hope this means Fall is coming soon-- a sentiment I
apparently share alone. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Adventure is out there!</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;">-Colin</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622104096545081487.post-6325309337729813112012-03-11T22:49:00.001-03:002012-03-20T22:00:03.440-03:00The first weekendIt's been a lovely weekend so far!<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgevmP2zw235hMYzUS9rh4r8nPm9r-QoHUIGTpJs7QMY05KhfKPa4c4_lJWsgynaLcX6Eu85Mts0Uy4ehBTh3bspeQkWcel7WKSiH6mlIWVrTQhmbamn0Bt9a-8UXStAZaj2Sb00BfBWXOS/s1600/DSC_0019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgevmP2zw235hMYzUS9rh4r8nPm9r-QoHUIGTpJs7QMY05KhfKPa4c4_lJWsgynaLcX6Eu85Mts0Uy4ehBTh3bspeQkWcel7WKSiH6mlIWVrTQhmbamn0Bt9a-8UXStAZaj2Sb00BfBWXOS/s400/DSC_0019.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sea lions. (<i>lobos marinos)</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
On Friday, we took a tour of <span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-address" dir="ltr">Valparaíso with the other international students. It was an adventure to say the least. </span><span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-address" dir="ltr">Valparaíso (or Valpo, as they like to call it here) is the city right next to </span>Viña, and since it's also across the water, you can see it from Viña. We started our tour with a boat ride around the bay, where we got to take pictures of the city from the water, and of even cooler things like <i>lobos marinos</i> (sea lions). <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5ZpEYlgBp-x0WsF2Bj4gcxc-_wzHbVOgPE-styxS5bE29hk1jwpX78tOuYQeXuaNJ9xkUZ3Fe0-9jNI3zBlQpQfCVcOBxihGM2MknoezI6dLGMNs42fEsjiPcCGYDq2-FumoaXuSoPwnI/s1600/DSC_0051.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5ZpEYlgBp-x0WsF2Bj4gcxc-_wzHbVOgPE-styxS5bE29hk1jwpX78tOuYQeXuaNJ9xkUZ3Fe0-9jNI3zBlQpQfCVcOBxihGM2MknoezI6dLGMNs42fEsjiPcCGYDq2-FumoaXuSoPwnI/s320/DSC_0051.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i style="font-size: medium;">ascensores</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
We then followed our guide, Leo, through the center of town--the only flat part of Valpo, because it's man-made--until we got to one of the still-functioning <i>ascensores</i>. We rode up <i>cerro artilleria</i> (one of <span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-address" dir="ltr">Valparaíso's 42ish hills) in the <i>ascensor</i>, which is essentially a diagonal elevator, designed in 1892 as daily transportation in this city of hills. </span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Llj8E8OeRRHE3vwBQF_jYaC82bB4FZbRUd9W-_vW0USMNE-eQUJNYPY-r0tIqFyrU6UZBZFRQDDtJooOuj7pkfpF5Te9YINfrcWNz4GdeKjHeynnR-LxWOKSR1y4Vp0LUod72RlboTGU/s1600/DSC_0016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Llj8E8OeRRHE3vwBQF_jYaC82bB4FZbRUd9W-_vW0USMNE-eQUJNYPY-r0tIqFyrU6UZBZFRQDDtJooOuj7pkfpF5Te9YINfrcWNz4GdeKjHeynnR-LxWOKSR1y4Vp0LUod72RlboTGU/s400/DSC_0016.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carlos (international student coordinator) and our guide, Leo</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-address" dir="ltr">We took the long way back down so we could experience the city as does a native <i>porte</i></span><i>ñ</i><span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-address" dir="ltr"><i>o</i> (the name the Valparaisans call themselves because they live in a port city). Leo told us that since </span><span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-address" dir="ltr">Valparaíso was essentially built one building at a time as the city grew up the hills, each building was built when, where, and however someone wanted to build it. Consequently, Valpo has a unique lack of congruency or order, and each building has a personality of its own. I loved looking at the unique architecture and colors! Leo also told us that one of the quirks of </span><span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-address" dir="ltr">Valparaíso is that whether it's the result of being built on a hill or of earthquakes and tsunamis, nothing is quite at the right angle anymore. Then </span><span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-address" dir="ltr">at the bottom of one hill, we caught a <i>micro</i> to the top of another, and practically flew up it at speeds I would not have thought possible for steep grade hairpin curves. The bus took us to one of the two hills in the tourist district, where German and British influence were very strong in the architecture. In this part of </span><span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-address" dir="ltr">Valparaíso, Leo told us that nearly every house was a hotel, hostel, cafe, or boutique. And of course, they were all uniquely structured and painted. This time the descent on foot took much longer, but it's hard to complain when you're surrounded by slightly crooked, very colorful houses built practically on top of one another as far as the eye can see. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">oh <i>Valpo</i>, no rhyme or reason</td></tr>
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<span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-address" dir="ltr">When we did finally reach the bottom, we all got back on the metro to return to </span>Viña, and Colin and I went to my house to eat and wait until our first party in <i>Locos X Viña</i>. Mama Lorena made us some absolutely delicious (and very unusual) hamburgers with <i>palta</i> (avocado) and tomatoes. <br />
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I'm pretty sure our experience at <i>Locos X Viña</i> was not the typical <i>carrete</i> (party) <i>chilena</i>, because practically everyone there was an international student. It was, however, very similar to Panam parties back home, except that now I'm 21. So since they gave everyone one free drink, I tried the Chilean specialty, Pisco, with Sprite. It was actually pretty good, but I'm pretty sure it was because they put less Pisco in the free drinks than in the ones you pay for. Anyway, after a long day hiking through Valpo, we were rather tired and went home early, but it was a good day all around. <br />
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These Chileans take their relaxing very seriously. On Saturday, after a long day of doing nothing, I went to Colin's house at about five o'clock. For hours I thought that no one else was home until about eight when people started to stir and gather at the table for <i>once</i>. Since my family doesn't really have <i>once</i>, this was my first one, and it was lovely. We all gathered around the table for a "dinner" of mashed potatoes (called <i>puré</i>), with bread, anything you could imagine putting on bread, and tea. The whole family sat and talked long after we had finished eating. <br />
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This morning Colin and I had a whole new adventure. We looked up a Church of Christ online that Colin had heard about from someone, and although google maps couldn’t tell
us exactly where it was, we found the street it was on and decided to go there.
So Colin asked Mama Patty how to get there from his house (it sounded rather
complicated), and I asked Mama Lorena how to get there from mine. We decided to
meet there in the morning instead of trying to get to some other location and
then go together, so I left earlier than necessary to make sure I could find
it. My trip was simple and although I missed my bus stop and had to walk back a
couple of blocks, I made it just fine. Only there was no ½ Oriente 1108. I
walked up and down the street and then around to where there was another ½ Oriente,
but to no avail. The second time I walked by, a man came out to try and help
me, but he’d never seen a ½ Oriente 1108 either. While I was looking, Colin
called me to say that he’d gotten on the wrong <i>colectivo</i> and though he knew where he was, he wasn’t quite sure how
to get to where he was supposed to be. So I pulled out my touristy map of Viña
and we decided to just walk toward each other until we met. Along the way,
Colin passed a different church, so we decided to go there. I’m pretty sure we
walked in about 30 minutes late, but there was still someone at the door to
shake our hands, and I don’t think they minded too much. It was very
interesting to have to pay extra close attention to understand the service in
Spanish, and on top of that to realize partway through that we had walked into
a tiny Chilean Assembly of God. They were very nice and asked us afterward
where we were from and if we spoke Spanish and if this was our first time in
the church, and if we wanted them to prophesy over us. We said no thank you in
more-broken-than-usual Spanish, and left, shaking hands on the way out. </div>
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We start classes this week, so wish
us luck! </div>
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Ciao! </div>Rachel Davenporthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07114485023775563678noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622104096545081487.post-4172072516519334612012-03-08T19:09:00.001-03:002012-03-19T22:05:45.738-03:00Amigos, Vagos, VidaSo, we took a test a couple of days ago to determine our spanish abilities. We both did pretty well! We were placed in the Intermediate Advanced group. Basically we are allowed to take the set spanish courses for the exchange students, then also some electives and/or classes at the main campus with Chilean students. The best part of all this is that we will not be having classes on Fridays!!! This has never happened to me before. All it took was leaving the country, haha.<br />
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Also, we had to register our student visas with the <i>Registro Civil</i>. It's a municipal building with a lot of overworked people and lots and lots of lines. We ended up waiting for around 3 hours but we did make a new friend. Her name is <i>Estephani. </i><br />
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She is super nice and is newly graduated from UVM (<i>Universidad Viña del Mar</i>) where we go! She works with international students and was happy to talk to us, albeit a little slowly. </div>
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(Side note: we saw a Chilean man that was the spitting image of Barack Obama. Me, being the social <i>gringo</i> that I am, went up and told him who we thought he resembled. He laughed and said that when he wore a tie, he got it often. I figured it would be too rude to ask for a photo with him, so just use your imagination.)</div>
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Today we had an oficial welcome to the university from the Director of International Studies. Also, there was some folk dancing by some talented young ladies. Afterwards we had lunch (<i>hamburguesas</i>) and then Rachel and I joined some other <i>gringos</i> on a walk towards the beach. We ended up at a Mexican Restaurant and enjoyed each other's company. While there, a street performer of sorts who had also been at the orientation showed up. </div>
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Interesting guy, with his pet parrot, but nice all the same.</div>
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Tonight there is talk of a <i>Corrida Nocturna </i>(night run) but since I don't have the right shoes, we'll see how much running I actually do. </div>
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In other news, things are getting easier. My listening skills are improving and I'm not as terrified of city life as I was when I arrived. I think I'll enjoy my classes and I love hanging out with the other International Students, especially the Germans. All in all, I'm doing great.</div>
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Tomorrow's another day,</div>
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-Colin</div>
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P.S. <i>Vagos </i>(similar to 'vagabonds'?) <i> </i>are either stray dogs or homeless people. The city has plenty of both but I took a picture of the former for you all as well as some other parks and streets.</div>
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<i>¡Ciao!</i></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2622104096545081487.post-69394624270031584772012-03-06T23:26:00.003-03:002012-09-03T22:54:12.780-03:00Settling InMe cuesta mucho cambiar siempre entre Espanol y Ingles. <br />
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This has been the longest day so far. It seems like forever ago that I took the shortest shower of my life and rode the metro to the University with mama Lorena for the first time. Seeing Americans again after two days straight of <span style="font-size: x-small;">extremelyfastspanish </span>was more of a relief than I realized I needed. We listened to a presentation (in blessed English) about the University, Viña, transportation, safety, and everything else we could ever want to know. Then we had two and a half hours to go home for lunch, so we decided to go to Colin's apartment. We took the <i>micro</i> (bus) for the first time without a <i>chileno</i> and we both survived! Nana made us<i> pastel de choclo</i>, which is kind of a corn mash with some kind of meat in it--it tasted like Grandma's gravy, so I'm guessing it was giblets--and covered in a ton of sugar. It was delicious and as always, about three times more than I could possibly eat.<br />
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We arrived back at the University a few minutes late for our test, but since that's early for <i>chilenos</i>, we were actually congratulated. :) Both the oral and the written tests went well, and we got to spend a few hours getting to know the other international students. When we finished with our responsibilities for the day, Colin and I went back to my apartment so he could meet mama Lorena. They both seemed rather taken with each other, so I hope we'll all be spending lots of time together. We had a lovely afternoon snack and chatted with mama Lorena until it was time for Colin to go home for dinner.<br />
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I feel most proud of our accomplishments in Chile when we figure out the public transportation, so it was the second great success of the day when I walked Colin to the <i>colectivo</i> stop near my house by myself and then he hailed and then rode one all by himself!<br />
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I don't realize how much I've already learned until I try to explain it, but a <i>colectivo</i> is somewhere between a taxi and a bus. They are black cars with taxi-like signs on the roof; they have set routes and prices, but they will drop you off anywhere along their route, and they only have up to four passengers at a time. Riding in a <i>colectivo</i> feels about like how I imagine it feels to ride in a taxi in New York City. Which is terrifying. :) It could just be that I've never lived in a big city, but the public transportation here fascinates me more than anything else. It feels like the city never sleeps, and never stops moving.<br />
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Anyway, I spent the rest of the evening practicing English with Sidney (who sounds about like I did in Spanish two), which doubled as getting to know each other better, relaxing, and having a Corona--in glasses from a 1Liter bottle--with my family. And now finally, I'm going to sleep to rest for a long day of exploring Viña tomorrow! <br />
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Buenas noches, <br />
RachelRachel Davenporthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07114485023775563678noreply@blogger.com1