It was late last Thursday, and I was sitting down on a cold bus station bench with Fernanda. Feña is an incredibly cute, but fierce, Chilena that I met a couple months ago at a bar where we danced until the lower single digit hours of the morning. We've been dating recently and she's great, but things are complicated and I won't get into it here. I hopped on the 11pm bus to Santiago with my gringo compañero Johnny from Minnesota. I was sleepy, but Don't Mess with The Zohan was showing so I laughed myself to sleep by watching the whole movie. Oh, Adam Sandler.
On Friday, after an incredible cup of real coffee (not that nescafe crap), Johnny Minnesota and I went for a walk with his Aunt's dog, Canella. The cool morning air was not the familiar bitter freeze that I know so well in Angol. It was a gorgeous day and I could see the enormous Andes Mountains that surround Santiago. We were lucky to catch a glimpse of the range in the distance before an awful smog settled in around 11 that morning.
•View of the Andes from barrio Ñuñoa in Santiago
That evening, the English Opens Doors program held a ceremony for those volunteers that completed the first semester and will be returning home. I was glad that I was not one of those receiving a certificate. I imagined myself, though, shaking the director's hand and packing my bags for home. I imagined leaving my friends and my Chilean family. I imagined leaving my students and teachers at my school. I imagined leaving Fernanda. I saw myself dropping my bags on the kitchen tile at my Cumberland home and giving my parents a hug like never before. I pictured myself laying on our nice leather sofa, channel surfing 70 channels (66 more than the tv in Angol).
Then I saw myself stuck. What am I gonna do now? Who am I going to speak Spanish to? How am I going to put to use the things I learned in Chile? Please, please don't send me back to the Country Club waiting tables for old grumpy ladies playing cards!
I snapped back to reality and grabbed a glass of wine. I love and miss my family and friends back home, but thank the Jesus Lord God that I'm not going back now.
I bade farewell to my friends and called it an early night. I had to wake up early to go SKIING!
Saturday morning started at 6:30am. Not easy with a filipinot noir hangover. Jordan and I had breakfast with his friend from work, Chloe, and we made our way out to meet some Australians. After a frustrating hour and half of renting equipment and waiting for the Australians to buy their precious vodka, we finally started making our way up to the Andes.
It was an incredible day and a beautiful drive up. We started hitting the curves that slowly ascend up the mountain and at about curve 25 or so, the car was having issues. The new VW bug, which brought flashbacks of my older brother's car in high school, was crapping out. Maybe it was out partying the night before like I was.
The Australians sent word of a small town at curve 40. We managed to slug bug up there without the white punchbuggy totally dying. We threw on our boots and gear and heel-toed down to the road to hitchhike the rest of the way up. In a hot minute, a small Chilean truck was waiting it's turn at the stop sign and we hopped into the back. The bed was ridden with lava rocks but I didn't care to get my pants dirty. The driver gunned it to 50+mph on the straightaways and the mountains were so big it felt like we weren't moving it all.
•Hitchhiking in the back of a pickup
The skiing was great and offered some great powder in parts and I'm glad I got to ski the Andes.
I forgot to bring goggles and I don't have sunglasses so I spent the day without a piece of glass separating me from the mountain. Later that night, I looked into the mirror and saw my eyes were a sun-burnt red. oops.
• Valle Nevado
Sunday was the World Cup final match: España vs. Holland. Friends and I watched the game in a crowded sports bar called California Cantina. I was for Spain and so was Octopus Paul. Thanks to Iniesta, we were both satisfied.
Monday, I played guitar in a Santiago metro station and made 3,500pesos (about $7).
Tuesday, I rode a train south with my friend Kelsea to a city called Talca. The train was súper, but the city wasn't. Many of the homes and buildings in Talca were destroyed in the earthquake in February. Quite sad. It was a simple night of pizza and movies.
•Off the train in Talca
•Tree from the train
Wednesday, plans changed and we decided to skip the trip to Chillán after hearing of similar earthquake tragedies that took place there.
Now I'm back in Angol for a few days and just relaxing.
Sunday, I will be going to Pucón to work at an English Winter Camp for the week.
Hope all of you back in the Northern Hemi are having a good summer! Send me some love once in a while. I love getting letters.
My mailing address is:
0181 Los Andes
Población El Rosario
Angol, Chile
OR just send me an email: villanrc@gmail.com
¡Espero que todo vaya bien!
Chau!
.Chileanueva
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