A Different Perspective

My dad decided to do a little write up from our trip as well. It offers a unique perspective as he is able to compare modern day Chile with Chile as he saw it on his trip, 120 years ago. Besides, you all deserve a little break from my whining and belly-aching... enjoy.


OK, OK. It's time for my take on our adventures with Alex and Viviana in Chile. Ava's disclaimers not withstanding, I'm going to jump in. Seeing the 2 weary backpackers was a sight for sore eyes. I know I did it back in the 70's, but I still found it a little unnerving as they tried to hoist up their 50 pound packs and amble down the road – a very dusty, windy road by the time we left them in the god-foresaken outback of Patagonia.

Things started off great as we celebrated New Year's with throngs of chileans in downtown Santiago. The hills of Valpariso and Viña del Mar, dotted with little tin roofed houses was stunning and the funicular's old technology was a trip. Alex is right; our dinner there was memorable. As we roamed further South. I tried to resurrect memories of my adventures there in the early 70's when I entered the country only a few months after the brutal overthrow of the Allende government and the rise to power of the brutal dictator, Augusto Pinochet. It was such a different time; people invited me into their homes (early couch-surfing) and told me harrowing stories of the last year's events – land seizures by leftest guerillas, CIA agents crossing the Andes to help those on the right, shortages of basic foods and supplies, 1000% inflation, the chaos of complete political breakdown (4 parties left to right) in which people could no longer talk to each other. Now these events seemed more of a cautionary tale for Tea Party America than the Chile of today. Althought there were small traces of those times (Victor Jara CD's), the Chilean people have moved on. The place is booming with construction projects and there is an air of change, and people are super friendly.

As we came down to Puerto Montt, I was flooded with more memories of the beautiful little port city. Back then I would wander down to the warf sticking out into the bay and feast on steamed mussels, clams and picorocos ( giant barnacles). Today – A congested, dusty port city with none of the treats. Picorocos are unobtainable now. I had to face it; it was time for me to forget my memories and enjoy our current discoveries. The little island of Chiloe was gorgeous. We hiked through a scrub forest on a wooden walkway. Took a boat ride out to see penguins, otters and flightless ducks. We had a wonderful stay at a new cabana on the beach where we feasted on steak, and later, we stayed at an old farmhouse / Hostel in the rolling hills.

Alex's hilarious encounter with the proprietress at the farm is a memory which will not fade with time. Here is my perspective: Alex is hunched over a ridiculously tiny homemade stove (made from 2 beer cans), sitting under an enormous pot of water, preparing to boil some pasta. It is cold and windy. The stove is not working. The lady of the house stands in the courtyard and watches. Then she announces for all to hear;

“ Eso no tiene futuro.” (No future in that)

Perhaps she was influenced by watching Viviana a little earlier, trying to glue her shoe back together. But the pronouncement left us rolling with laughter and doomed any further attempts with the stove that evening. In all fairness, I have to say that Alex's stove is ingenious. It runs on low octane stuff like alcohol and once it's going it runs great. Best of all: If you lose it, you drink 2 beers and make a new one.

Speaking of humiliating moments, I have a name for the one experienced by Ava and I – with Alex and Viviana in attendance. I call it “The Catch of the Day.”

We went to the beautiful central market in Santiago. The huge, black, cast iron building reminded me of the arboreteum in San Francisco's Golden Gate Park with its hundreds of small windows and a vented roof. The food stalls were surrounded by dozens of small restaurants. As we tried to get seating, first at one restaurant and then another, they began closing up. The market day ended at 5 pm. Finally, a friendly older man swept us to his tables and said he would rescue us and serve us. The menus arrived with a flourish, we had some drinks and filled with a feeling of good fortune we watched as our patron showed us a congrejo del mar (giant sea crab). We marveled at it's size (perhaps two feet from claw tip to claw tip). Yes, we laughed, we'll have it! Alex and Viviana ordered something more modest. And we had a feast fit for a king. We were the last ones eating in the entire place. The evening light filtered through the windows – a memorable setting. Also memorable – the bill. The crab was 49,000 pesos. That is about $100. At every restaurant from then on we had no fear in asking, “Cuanto cuesta?”

Speaking of food. I am confused about Chile. While a huge variety of delicious foodstuffs was readily available, as you can well imagine in country with so many different climates and micro-climates, there really was no discernable tradition of quality cooking or traditional dishes. We did have several delicious meals in Valparaiso and Santiago (at the airport), but once you were on the road all variety and creativity in cooking disappeared. A salad was invariably rows of sliced tomatoes and rows of sliced avocado. Heart of palm? Sliced in a row; no dressing. Meat at a very nice restaurant in Puyuhuapi was tough as leather. Bread was good, but the same – everywhere. Strange. Although, shopping at the new Chilean supermarkets was a lot of fun. And we took advantage of every opportunity to cook.

Alex has well documented our visit to the horsefly infested hot springs. Another memorable experience. I have to say that if a trip is measured by the extremes in its experiences, then this was a wonderful trip. Especially from a looking back perspective. The horsefly incident does raise another issue. Why didn't the river boatman warn us about the flies? Of course the anser is that he had a vested interest which conflicted with that information – he wanted to get paid for ferrying us across the river. But there is more here. The failure to get acurate information was mind boggling. Why didn't the tourist office in Coyhaique, which had been so helpful with other things, warn us that there would be no tickets available on our arrival at the ferry in Puerto Ibanez? Still this fiasco led to the most hilarious moment of our trip – the hostal incident.

Again, Alex has captured the flavor of this strange place and the woman “caretaker” who seemed like something out of a Faulkner novel. When I asked her for towels she told me there weren't any. Then she explained that the towels were wet. That is when I complained to the management (an extended family with children which lived at one end of the building) and discovered the strange status of the deranged woman. She was given full authority to run the hostal and only when communications had completely broken down would the “family” reluctantly intercede. During the night she turned off the hot water. I found the heater and relit the burner so we could have showers. This hostal was more like an asylum. Fortunately, it ended on a truly hilarious note.

The best thing about this trip was how well the four of us worked as a team. Whatever the adversity, we came up with a plan. A word about Viviana: How does she manage to carry that huge backpackand and hitchhike day after day, often setting the pace? I am totally impressed. She gave me permission to rename a character in my novel (currently undergoing a major edit /rewritte) with her name. But I don't know – my character is not as skilled or as versitile as she is. Anyway, I can't wait until you both get back to Oregon so we can do more hiking, camping and hanging out.

Love,

Downer