Monday, July 21, 2003
So, Saturday....Camilo B. (from Harvard) and I hopped up to Valparaiso and Viña del Mar. 8 dollars for round trip bus. In Valpo hit the cerros- there are all these hills, and tiny (ancient) ascensores that can bring you up and down them. But in the process of finding the Ascensor Espiritu Santo climbed Cerro Bellavista, through a series of outdoor murals and in the company of a perky stray. We walked through La Sebastiana, one of the houses of Pablo Neruda, at the top, then took the ascensor down (with a sudden jolt at the beginning). Then did the same thing- climbed Cerro Conception while looking for the ascensor to bring us up, all the while wondering at the effort it took to reach the "bottom". We took a tour of the bay, complete with sea lions and tons of military ships (take photos of which will get you arrested). Merval train to Viña, mildly tempted by the fact I could order wine in the Italian restaurant, wandered through the park Quinta Vergara, and its museum. Valpo itself sort of blocked the sunset, the edges of whidh were pretty....
Back in Santiago used up a phone card trying to figure out how to get to the birthday (carrete= party) where Paula was (I still owe you!!!!!), and ended up with directions through streets that might or might not exist, given my hasty phonetic spellings. We´d thought of walking, but since we didn´t see it on the map....the cab driver didn´t know either, at first. Drove and drove and drove and drove, until we got to a pretty unlit neighborhood, where we couldn´t even find the house number (which, given how badly I´d mangled the street names, seemed pretty wrong). After all three (me, C, cabbie) walking up and down a bit, finally found it....a grand carrete indeed, with hotdogs, copete, salsa (two left feet), merengue (yay! a left foot and a half) and someone whispering to me (in english at least) two feet from the videotaping father, do you want to smokeweed? (its pretty much one word here).
And most interesting, was two others talking with Camilo about life under Pinochet, very passionately. I only could give an ear, unfortunately. At one point the girl recounted the story of a Canadian killed by the military, I think referring to the events of July 2, 1986.
At the same time, there are people very pro- Pinochet. The same it is, everywhere, I suppose.
On a different note, leaving the party in the middle of the night, the fog was incredible. It covered everything.
Back in Santiago used up a phone card trying to figure out how to get to the birthday (carrete= party) where Paula was (I still owe you!!!!!), and ended up with directions through streets that might or might not exist, given my hasty phonetic spellings. We´d thought of walking, but since we didn´t see it on the map....the cab driver didn´t know either, at first. Drove and drove and drove and drove, until we got to a pretty unlit neighborhood, where we couldn´t even find the house number (which, given how badly I´d mangled the street names, seemed pretty wrong). After all three (me, C, cabbie) walking up and down a bit, finally found it....a grand carrete indeed, with hotdogs, copete, salsa (two left feet), merengue (yay! a left foot and a half) and someone whispering to me (in english at least) two feet from the videotaping father, do you want to smokeweed? (its pretty much one word here).
And most interesting, was two others talking with Camilo about life under Pinochet, very passionately. I only could give an ear, unfortunately. At one point the girl recounted the story of a Canadian killed by the military, I think referring to the events of July 2, 1986.
At the same time, there are people very pro- Pinochet. The same it is, everywhere, I suppose.
On a different note, leaving the party in the middle of the night, the fog was incredible. It covered everything.
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