Cajon del Maipo

Teeny, tiny disclaimer. I really don't know where my head was when I started writing this...so bear with me on the introduction: all I'm trying to convey is that the wild horses we saw were very tame and that the thermal baths were disappointingly far from warm. Ok, that's all. You may continue.

To my younger, more naive self the phrase "Wild horses couldn't drag me away" or "Wild horses couldn't stop me" would have called to mind scenes of valiant heroes in the climax of a movie plot, a moment of true love professed between soul-mates or possibly that one Nancy Drew mystery about a wild stallion (#86 The Mystery of Misty Canyon, for you overgrown "Carolyn Keene" fans out there). But after this past (and now past, past) weekend, my perspective has changed. Whoever came up with the idea that wild horses are something that would drag a hero away in his or her hour of triumph or stop two lovers from realizing their relationship potential has obviously never visited Cajon del Maipo (Maipo Canyon) in Chile. They would never have created those silly, silly cliches after seeing the Maipo horses, horses that wouldn't bother you even if you pleaded with them. Even if you threw carrots at them and pet them and complimented their manes. No. Maipo horses are only concerned with themselves, no concern for anyone else.

But had our hypothetical, cliche-making friend visited the canyons at the outskirts of Santiago, amongst the cordillera that contains the border between Chile and Argentina, perhaps he or she would have supplied us with catch phrases about the "thermal baths," specifically the Baños Morales. They might have come up with witty one-liners, to be scattered sarcastically amidst conversations where the topic at hand had failed miserably to attain certain expectations, such as the Morales springs did with the concept of heat. Por ejemplo...

Cindy: "Say, Suzie, how did your date with Bobby Joe go the other night? Did he take you somewhere really swell?"

Suzie: "Oh that Baño Termal? Cindy, he developed an allergic reaction to his own sweater in the middle of our dinner and in all the confusion, I ended up paying for our unfinished meal since Bobby Joe was lapsing in and out of consciousness."

As you can see, the ladies had higher hopes for our poor sweater-troubled lad, and since it is well known that the Baños Morales are not really thermal at all, Suzie was able to communicate to Cindy her reaction to the evening, as well as her corresponding feelings (or lack of) for dear Bobby Joe.

As you can also see, my introduction to our weekend in Cajon del Maipo is not very flattering to the Cajon. So I will quit being a Negative Nancy (wow, two Nancy's in one blog...three if you count that one) and get to the stories and photos...

So I decided the night before that I was going to join Megana, Maximo and Kate Friday morning to meet up with Lee, Diego, Claire, Eleanor and Emilie at Cajon del Maipo, which is a very nature-y area southeast of Santiago about two hours and very close to the Chile-Argentina border. I woke up to my alarm around 8:00 very upset because I couldn't remember why I was waking up so early on a day I didn't have classes. Then I remembered. Then I set my alarm for five more minutes of sleep. After the next alarm, I called Megana to get the details on where we were meeting (at 9:00) and again set my alarm for five more minutes of sleep. I finally got up, showered and packed, and at 9:05 I was out the door. I hailed a cab and it took me as close to our meeting place as 1100 pesos would get me and I walked the rest of the way (only a few blocks). My three amigos as well as our bus driver were waiting for me, and soon we were on the road. I would tell you how we obtained a personal bus driver for the weekend, but I don't remember the chain of relations...someone in our group had a house-sitter because her host-mom was out of town, and the house-sitter's dad was a bus driver and offered to chauffeur us around for a small fee. Oh, look at that. I did remember. We picked up the other half of our outfit, because they had camped somewhere the night before, and made our way to the cordillera. There were valleys, hills, mountains, rivers, streams, small vineyards...just beautiful. Our bus driver also just happened to have a house near the same thermal baths we were planning on visiting, and he told us that we could camp in his yard and use his kitchen and bathroom if we so pleased. (How lucky are we?) Upon arrival our group split up, and while some people made lunches for our hike in the mountains, the others and I set up the eight person tent.

Tent, porch swing, my friend Maximo drinking water like a cowboy.
Gold leaves falling from the trees. One of my favorite things, in case Julie Andrews asks...

Once we got to the entrance of the trail, however, the park rangers told us that we would not have enough time to hike to the glacier and back before the park closed. A tad disappointed, we decided to take the one road through town in the opposite direction. So we had a mini-walk of our own and took photos of the mountains before heading to the thermal baths. As I have alluded to already, they were tepid, at best. First of all, we had to pay an entrance fee. Secondly, the water was full of minerals (poisons...) that turned the water a sulfur color. And finally, the only part of them that was thermal was the very bottom. If you stood in one place and dug your feet into the dirt and rocks at the bottom, at least the soles of your feet would be warm. Megana was the only smart one who didn't get in. After climbing out (approximately 10 minutes later) I felt all my muscles go stiff and it hurt to stretch them. And after I got movement and feeling back, I realized that my skin was tingling. Then stinging. Overall, not a very good first impression of a hot spring for me.

Queen of the Rock.

Back at camp we heated water for some peppermint tea we had found. Lee, Emilie, Diego and Maximo wanted to climb the hill/mountainside nearest us, so while they ran all the rest of their energy out, the rest of the ladies and myself sat around, drinking tea, having "soccer mom" time. Before we knew it the sun had set and since the mountains were so close, the sunlight was blocked sufficiently and darkness came on sooner than expected. Por eso, we began to build the campfire. We started out with the Tepee style, and after that failed us (or we failed it) we moved on to the log-cabin version. After realizing that some of the dry brush we had found was indeed not dry, and after picking out said not-dry brush, we had some flames going. By the time our worn-out children came back, it was dark and the fire was roaring. The rest of the night was spend cooking sausages for choripan and singing all the songs we could think of. Disney songs, camp songs, rugby songs, country, rock, rounds... you name it, we probably sang it.

The next morning we woke up and attempted the hike again after breakfast. No one had brought sunblock and I was worried that so many hours in the sun was going to leave devastatingly red and probably painful results on my fair skin, so I fashioned a turban from my sweater and pulled forward the part on my forehead so as to create a sort of bill. Successful. No sunburn.

Enter: horses. We came up one of the very inclined paths to a relatively flat plain where horses were grazing. Lee had brought carrots, so we crossed through the tall grass to where the horses were standing. I think maybe one of the carrots got eaten. All other attempts were in vain. It was very frustrating. So we returned to the trail and made it all the way to the lake, where we stopped and had lunch. The same group that had climbed the mountainside the night before decided to continue on the trail toward the glacier, while the "soccer moms" turned back because it was getting cold. In retrospect I kind of wish that I had gone on, but I thought that the glacier was farther away than it actually was, and I wasn't appropriately dressed to be out in the cold, in the dark. When we arrived at camp, we turned around and the sun setting behind the mountains was casting a very red glow on the opposite mountain faces. A perfect way to end the day.

Our chauffeur was already back to take us home when we walked in the house, and once everyone made it back, we packed up and started for the city again. I had jumped in on the trip without really knowing what to expect, and it wouldn't be unfair to say that I really had no expectations. I only anticipated hot springs, and other than that I was prepared to be surprised, expecting the unexpected. I liked that I didn't have to plan anything, and I liked taking everything day by day, hour by hour sometimes. It was good to spend some time with more of the group, as well. We have about seventeen people in our program, and I don't always get to see everyone since we don't all have classes together. I also really appreciate the fact that no matter what combination of individuals we consist of, we always have a good time, and everyone gets along so well. I hope I am not jinxing anything... (I don't think I am, but I'll knock on wood anyhow). And I was surprised at how accessible the area was. It was only about two hours outside the city; I couldn't believe this was my first time camping so close to Santiago. Not to mention the fact that Argentina was just on the other side of the mountains... Over all it was an easy weekend with some really great surprises. And I can thank my friend Claire for letting me borrow her camera the whole time.

P.S. my new camera should be in this week! I. Am. So. Excited.

Halves and Parts

The second half of my day is always more pleasing to me than the first half. Most importantly, it is when I have my walk home from the metro. Since I have to be nowhere fast, I can take my sweet, sweet Chilean time. Its usually cooler (which actually might be a negative thing very soon; winter is approaching here, and besides the cold, winter also equals lots of rain), and I don't have to take the shortest, most time-efficient route to my house like I often do to the metro when I'm running late for classes. And there are multiple paths I can choose from, or I can turn down any new street if I please and, using my shrewd navigational skills as well as my migratory bird-like sense of direction, meander my way through the intricate entanglement that is the street layout of Santiago. I'm being pretentious. My neighborhood is actually very grid-like and I would have to be a complete idiot now to get lost in the area I have been living in since the beginning of March. Moving on...

I also really enjoy this time of day because, like my imagined gallivanting through las calles of Nunoa, my train of thought doesn't have its usual laundry list of things to run through, my tasks are complete and whether I had success or failure ("failure") that morning, by late afternoon it is done, and I can reflect on my day or my time here or what part of Chile I want to visit next, just mentally strolling through the streets of Speculation. The first week we arrived in Santiago we were given these little notepads by our directors at IFSA. What they were for, I wasn't really sure: writing down possible classes, keeping track of new Spanish words (most likely this was their intention) or short-handing key words and phrases to jog my memory for when it came time to journal. Caitlin's was a combination of all three, but the majority of it consisted of short, horribly scribbled notes about things I wanted to write about when I got in front of my computer. Seeing as I haven't even written past Torres del Paine, I would venture to say that almost all of my notebook has yet to see printed page, well, typed page to be more accurate. But that's okay because when I am on my way home, I don't think about the things I must do or the things that I should do, I just think. And then jot it down. And listen to my iPod. Or read. (I've become a sort of professional at walking and reading, truth be told). Yes, end-of-the-day walking is definitely the better of my two times of daily transportation.

And speaking of second halves of things...this past weekend just happened to be my halfway mark for my time here in South America. It seems like it came so fast, but thinking back on my first few weeks here in the city, they do feel farther away than I thought they would. I guess I didn't realize how long five months would be when I'm living in another country, away from every single person I know (this is excluding the people I met in Chile, obviously). It really puts time into perspective. I guess I feel like the end might be closer to me than the beginning is, but the beginning seems so far away that it kind of feels like I am never going to be back home again. What all this really means is that I need to stop counting days and just enjoy myself. So the only other countdown I will be keeping track of is for the day that Kimberly and Jade arrive at the airport in Santiago de Chile in July (ahhh!). So in honor of the first half, or second fourth or thirty-third sixty-sixth of my trip completed, I will get to some of those shorter memories from my notebook that have yet to find audience. I can't promise they will be in any order, and some of them will not have accompanying photographs, so use your imagination and work with me here people...

March 27: Palacio Cousino

Our history professor took us on a Carrete Cultural (cultural party) that day. We met at one of the metro stations and the first place we went was the Mansion of the Cousino family. It was huge and absolutely gorgeous, stunning really. Before we began the tour everyone had to don these slippers that fit over your shoes. I was given green but was in a stubborn mood and wanted blue to match my outfit. If I had to wear ridiculous slippers I wanted my choice of them. Turns out the blue was the smallest size and they barely fit over my sneakers, but I wasn't about to trade. After everyone else put theirs on, and we snapped a few obligatory photos in them, we shuffled off to the first room in the tour. There was a women's tea room and a men's as well. The women's room was decorated with velvet and paintings and this odd chair concoction that sat three people. It was a type of courting chair where the couple sits with a chaperon and all three seats face in a circle. How unfortunate. Interesting though. There was a fabulous art nouveau chandelier on the outside patio that was shaped like a bouquet and the light glasses were in the shape of flowers. Its really a shame that we weren't allowed to take photos because I wanted to of soooo many things. There was a room upstairs where the original flooring had been an indigenous peace sign over and over again. But to everyone alive after Nazi Germany it looked like a swastika. When very rich guests stayed in the house they would have to carpet the entire floor so as to not offend them. Eventually they redid the wood flooring in the entire house but they keep tiles from each room for display.

(these are some examples I found on Google of the chair and chandelier)

(Photos from the Palacio)

After the tour we went to a dive of a bar called Piojera to try their famous Terremotos. It was a combination of white wine, pisco, beer and pineapple flavored sherbet. One was enough for anyone. A couple next to us asked if we could take a photo with them since there were people going around with instant cameras trying to make a few bucks. Naturally, we obliged and a lovely friendship soon blossomed. The couple was a woman and her father, and they were both significantly wasted. It was noon. It was also Ana's 20th birthday, so our professor had the accordion guy come over and sing her a song. The bar sang with us and cheered for Ana. Then our friends came back over and we had some adorable conversation. The old man told us that he was 80-something, but apparently he told our professor that he was in his 60's. Throughout our meal they would continuously raise their glasses to us and give the most intense thumbs-up signs I've ever witnessed. I don't think you could convey the amount of appreciation and well-wishing that this man did in one hand gesture, even if you wrote a book of poetry or gave an hour-long speech or dedicated a large ocean liner. Then they wanted another photo, and we offered to buy this one for them to keep. When it was time to go we said goodbye to our new amigos, a few times actually...they were insistent, we headed outside and over to Mercado Central, the city's famous fish market to have lunch. Ana had some more serenading, we finished our delicious meals (I had Chilean sea bass) and soon our Carrete Cultural was complete, and we were all on way back home to rest up before Ana's family cooked out for us later that night.

Notes about the Metro

1. Usually all the metro stops I take are pretty much the same: wait for the train (during rush hour that means only every other train will go to your station), wait for the people to get off and out of your way, board (squeeze yourself onto) the train, find something to hold on to or otherwise brace yourself for the always abrupt start. But there is one station that isn't so monotonously repetitive: Estacion Tobalaba, just at the beginning of linea cuatro. The train pulls up just like any other, except with this eerie, ghost-like presence. Since it is at the beginning of the line, the train is always empty. And the fact that everyone just stands and watches this large body of person-less seats slowly come to a stop only adds to the feeling of paranormality. Its as if an episode of the Twilight Zone is about to begin. If I had been mentally unalert up to this point in my trip, I usually snap out of it at Tobalaba, if only just for a few minutes. Once on the train, one's mind pretty much goes back into autopilot rather quickly.

2. While on the subject of empty seats, I am always impressed with the ambition, the fervor, of the old ladies who are determined to snag an open chair. I feel like it is pretty much common sense that the seats are primarily for the elderly and the differently-abled. However, I also find it a little comical that the individuals in search of these seats somewhere find this super-human power to push past the rest of us to get to these areas first. They are quick. Its quite a show, and really it only proves that they are just as capable of standing as the rest of us. Don't get me wrong, I will stand up and give my chair to any older woman or man that is without one, but I am not fooled. Their aged appearance doesn't deceive me. I know that if I had not gotten the precious prize a station before them, then I too would have been shoved aside without a second thought, whether I wanted the bloody seat or not. I only hope that I, too, can live long enough to forcefully demand my right, pleasure and comfort of a plastic, TransSantiago hard-backed throne of success.

3. Oh, the wonders of the metro never cease to amaze me. I am often astonished with the fact that one more person can always squeeze on board before the doors close. Just when you think the cab is full, one more Santiaguino finds their way into a small crevice and wedges him or herself into place with just enough room that the doors don't catch them. Sardines have nothing on these passengers.

4. Walking out of my subway station I always look at the shadows cast by the sun under the stand of newspapers and concessions to see which path will provide me with more shade. If the shadow points toward me then I walk South first along Bilboa for a stroll down Amapolas with its tall shadows from the flower-covered walls. It if points predominantly East, then I follow Tobalaba to the next light and its Eliecer Parada with which I attempt to take shelter from the sun, and whose adorable, if not overly ambitious, barking dogs I know well.

April 17: Papudo

This was the weekend that my family went to the beach to celebrate a few birthdays, namely Arturo's (my host dad). It was very relaxing, and I spent a lot of time by myself taking photos of the beach, the rocks, and the waves. We also took a tiny trip to a nearby city that is famous for its long road of handmade sweaters. It was like a little retreat for me, and I took an unnecessary amount of pictures of the coast, so I was happy. Here are a few highlights of those couple days.

- I went all the way down the "sweater street" hoping to find the best and most perfect option for a sweater purchase. I was determined to scour the area until I left with the one article of clothing that I was meant to own. This is because...one, this place was all about outerwear, and I didn't want to miss the opportunity for a quality (and practical) memento from the mini-vacation. Two, I am not a big sweater-buyer so seeing as it wasn't something I was familiar with, I wanted to know what all my options were before committing. Well, wouldn't you know that after almost two hours and two sides of that long, long street, I bought a knit shawl from one of the first two stores I had entered earlier that morning. "A lesson from the Universe."

- In one of my days playing Little Mermaid by the big rocks, I stood on one at the edge of the shore. I was just thinking to myself how much I liked being in the middle of crashing waves, yet high enough that I stayed dry, when a really powerful swell came roaring into the rock I was daydreaming on, splashing my pants and causing me to rapidly abandon my Disney-themed playtime for a few minutes. "A reality check from Nature."

- The water rippling around in the mini pools had a rhythm and movement just like jellyfish when they swim, much more so than "jelly" ever actually does. I guess we can't very well call them "water" fish though, can we... "An everyday observation that makes the world around Caitlin a little more clear."

Conclusion:

At this point I believe that I have sat in front of the computer for long enough today. I have also decided that I will no longer attempt to keep my posts in chronological order. It keeps me perpetually behind, and that doesn't make anyone happy. By the end of this week a blog about last weekend in La Serena should be up, and I will just add in stories after that when I feel like it. It will be out of order, but I think that less pressure to get stuff posted and caught up will allow me to be more productive. Hope you enjoyed it and I'll do my best to stay on track with this bad boy.

Caitlin

:D