A Little Bit About Other Things

“Soy profesor d’Ingles. Soy Sudafricano.”

- Me (the answer to most questions)

Happy Freedom Day!

This current post is being typed to the soundtrack of a bagpiper cranking out the Braveheart theme on the corner of my street. I am not entirely sure why, but why not? When in Rome. I think it is now appropriate to stop putting a time dimension on how long I have been in the great city of Santiago. Life has started happening in fairly normal ways now, prompting me to try to take it all a bit more seriously. I am gainfully employed for most of the hours of the day, I ride trains every day with respectable people, and I cook food for myself and the occasional brave other. Living in the very centre of the city, where opening a window is to take in a symphony of misogynistic cat-calling, trucks, sirens, and the general rumble of thousands of people scurrying in different directions ten floors below. The window or balcony door seldom stays open for long. Three cheers for the arrival of winter!

Arriving in the valley.

Look! No buildings in sight.

The chapel in Pisco de Elqui on Easter Sunday.

I have finally ventured beyond the smoke and the Andes which surround Santiago, taking a memorable trip to the famous Valle de Elqui, a more northernly bit of Los Andes, over the long Easter weekend. Finally leaving the pleasantly smoky bubble of Santiago behind, a fairly relaxing 7 hour bus-ride to La Serena followed, allowing me my very first view of the Pacific Ocean as we made our way up a misty desert coastline that could quite easily have been the Northern Province. I was disappointed to note that the Pacific doesn’t really look much different from the Atlantic. Pity. The trip wasn’t that relaxing though, the baby in the seat behind mine was having a fantastic kickabout while also engaging in what can only have been a baby-screaming contest with the baby in the aisle across from me. Boarding a smaller and baby-free bus, we turned inland towards Pisco country. The surrounding semi-desert was pushed up into the mountains, creating a massive contrast between the steep arid hills and the rich valley floor. Finally arriving at Pisco de Elqui, it was more or less required that the first thing we do would be to drink a Pisco sour, appreciating having finally gotten out of the big city and seen something different. The campsite was peaceful, nestled against the mountain, and under willow trees. After a freezing swim the jolly campfire was started and total relaxation set in. The sun set on Good Friday and the evening was spent around a comforting campfire beneath a familiar Southern Cross.

Green and Blue.

Saturday was the only full day I had in Elqui, so a small group of us decided it would best be spent hiking. Unfortunately, due to a fairly common habit of giving directions even if one has no idea (you just can’t let somebody down!), we didn’t find any of the hiking trails we had expected to find. Instead we mis-read a sign-post and found the small and bizarre town of Cochiquaz, some 16km down a dirt road. Walking in the middle of the day with no real idea of where we were going was fairly exhausting, although it allowed us a fantastic look into the valley and the river that threaded through it. Walking past oddly eclectic shrines (not entirely sure of their religious significance since they had a huge mixture of symbolism, religious realia, and random objects inside), mystical hippie retreats, and of course dogs which came out of nowhere was thoroughly surreal. The mountains remained steep, rocky, dry, and inhospitable, making me wonder from time to time if we’d be waylaid by Star Wars “sand people” or Indiana Jones himself from the crags above. Arriving in Cochiquaz dehydrated and probably sunburnt, we had time for a quick fruit juice and look around before returning to the dreaded road. Luckily, some friendly people agreed to let us hop into the back of their bakkie to save us from sun and dust.

Boarding the bus for what is now home, 1 “luca” (R20) left in my pocket, the relaxation of the past weekend in Elqui kicked in.  Drifting off a few times on the return, I was often jolted awake against the window to see the dusty hills covered with what looked remarkably like Fynbos - and for a split second forgot where I was. Relaxation and beautiful scenery aside, the trip to Pisco de Elqui and the return to Santiago served as another example of the phenomenon of finally appropriating a place as “home” once you leave it for the first time and return. With this in mind, the bright lights of Santiago appearing on the horizon were a very welcome sight that Sunday evening. 

The dusty march to Cochiquaz

Not wanting to lose any momentum in making the most of every weekend, I and a small group of friends attended Lollapalooza 2013 here in Santiago, and an incredible time was had by all. There were too many highlights to put down here, however the most perfect moment occurred when Eddie Vedder, legendary frontman of Pearl Jam, serenaded the crowd in Spanish, utilising various “Chilenismos” he knew and of course taking the time to compliment the country on its excellent wine. The spontaneous smiles that broke out upon the faces of tens of thousands beaming Chileans in that moment were utterly priceless and unforgettable. 

I recently attended a 150 000 strong march for free education and equality of education in Santiago. It is inspiring how passionate Chileans are about education, people of all ages turning out in style. A loud, energetic, and powerful reminder of just how critical this cause is, wherever you are. Although I cannot profess to know the ins and outs of the educational context in Chile, comparing these events to the crisis in South Africa, and even the United States at the moment, it becomes clear that more and more people are recognising that the status quo is unsustainable and that they have the agency to change it. The march was peaceful for the most part, although unfortunately (and I was pre-warned of this), something usually goes awry towards the end of it. Thankfully, I had somewhere else to be when the tear-gas and “guanacos” (water-cannons) arrived on the scene.

The street-art on this part of the road (on the way to the protest) was not particularly polite.

Police, riot vans, and the main protest (in the distance) - clearing space.

Out of nowhere, a horde of singing primary school girls rushes to join the throng.

They mean business.

And that more or less brings me to the present, a bout of flu here and another soccer match there. I had thought I knew what I was doing re my definition of “city running” in Providencia, where I stayed initially. However, running in the incredibly noisy, chaotic, and exciting CBD is another matter entirely. Of course every stride requires “constant vigilance”, looking out for hidden driveways, parking garages, trucks, policemen, dogs, flaming jugglers, the elderly. All of these are major threats to the casual runner but as mentioned before, remind me a lot of trail running so on some level it is very enjoyable. The main difference being if I collide with a senior citizen or a small child the fallout differs significantly from the average trail collision with tree or boulder. There is also no trail-running equivalent for the impeccably timed exhalation of a smoker as you overtake him or her and take a deep breath yourself. Thankfully, the city is still filled with parks – I just have to navigate a bit more city before I can get to it now. I expect this to get a little harder now as winter has finally arrived and the smoke has begun to thicken somewhat.  

As an aside: sneezing on the rush-hour 7am train is a dangerous game when one’s arms are pinned to one’s sides, completely immobile. Respectful practice means one has roughly three seconds to identify the youngest person in the vicinity, apologise urgently in advance and as a warning, and more or less sneeze in their face. 

A post-excursion reward.  

The least blurry shot I could get. They may not be welcome in the marble and glass temples to capitalism in Las Condes, but the dogs are an integral part of life in Santiago. They should have the vote.