Foreign - Familiar - Farewell

As the sliding doors of the Santiago Metro opened at La Moneda, I stepped onto the platform and was struck with recognition. Directly in front of me was Volcan Licancabur as seen from San Pedro de Atacama. To the left, the vineyards of Valle de Elqui. Across the tracks, Volcan Osorno and Lago Llanquihue and an aerial view of the Andes, such as is witnessed on a flight to Buenos Aires.

These enormous paintings have accompanied me on an almost daily basis. I have passed them without thinking since I first set eyes on their unfamiliar landscapes. Filled with trepidation, I marvelled at their beauty as they loomed over me - unknown worlds in a foreign country.

But suddenly, they have become familiar. I feel a rush of memory as I recall the terrain and I feel a little more a part of the world around me.

This is my farewell to Chile; the discovery that a world so alien - that left me without language, without culture, without identity - can become normal. It's been a struggle, I did not have the easiest of starts, and there are things I still find hard to deal with. But my Chilean adventure has taught me that from nothing, new ways of communicating can be learnt, new careers can be forged and wonderful new friends can be made.

And above all, outside of the smoggy metropolis of Santiago, Chile is one astonishingly beautiful country. Of the spectacular landscapes that have provided the backdrop to my daily commute, we are so incredibly lucky to have set eyes on their wonders.

My 7 links

A slight digression from my usual posting topics as I appear to have joined the world of the bloggersphere by being tagged in this '7 links' thing that's doing the rounds.

Thanks to Rob W of the South America Blog (this is the chap who runs Woodward language school which brought me up to a passable level of Spanish, Chilenismos and all) I have to rifle through the archives of my blog for 7 posts that are the most beautiful, popular, controversial, helpful, surprisingly successful, lacking the attention they deserved and that I am most proud of.

This actually turned out to be quite a fun task, as I got to rediscover stories I'd forgotten about and I enjoyed feeling incredibly proud of my blog and realising what an interesting historical record it is for me. So without further ado, onto the 7 links.

My most beautiful post

Difficult to define a beautiful blog post. Although on the whole I am pleased with how I write, I'm not sure any of the posts are exquisitely crafted literary masterpieces. So if we take beautiful to mean photography and subject matter, it doesn't get more perfect than A sprinkle of magic - the story of Frutillar and one volcano that made a last minute appearance to give us the most phenomenal setting for a pastel coloured sunset.

My most popular post

Judging by stats alone, this award goes to The most beautiful place on earth about our visit to Bariloche in Argentina, before it got covered in ash from Volcan Puyehue. A worthy winner. That said, I never tire of this view has been hanging around at the top of my most visited list since I wrote it way back on 20th October, so I think it deserves a mention too.

My most controversial post

I don't really do controversy on this blog, but I guess that Civil unrest is the closest I've come to any kind of political statement, or for that matter, to writing anything negative about my experiences here. 

My most helpful post

My very first posts, First impressions and A day of small victories stand out for me simply because various friends I have met here have told me that they felt reassured reading about my rather wobbly experiences in Chile at the beginning. So I'm nominating these for helping people know that they weren't alone in feeling adrift in this strange new place.

A post whose success surprised me

New heroes was the first time I received feedback from Chileans about my blog, with many of them in agreement with my admiration for Michele Bachelet. This was a turning point for me, where I discovered that my blog was being read as much by my new friends here as by my old friends back home. The amount of attention my Food post got was also a genuine surprise - it seems eating is what my readers are really interested in!

A post I feel didn't get the attention it deserved

Looking through my archives I found it difficult to find a post that didn't get attention, but eventually I opted for Museum of Memory and Human Rights because I don't remember getting much direct feedback on it. Maybe the subject matter was too painful for some, or maybe the history is too distant for others. Either way, I thought this post would get more of a reaction than it did.

The post that I'm most proud of

Trying not to sound too cheesy, I can honestly say that I am incredibly proud of my entire blog. I only started writing it because I fancied having a go at blogging and a couple of people had suggested it might be an interesting thing to do. But as I said at the beginning, it's turned into fascinating record of my time here; I love reading it and I hope others do too. Selecting one post, therefore, is pretty hard, but I think I'm going to plump for Immigration. Partly because it made me and a lot of other people laugh, partly because I enjoyed writing it and working on getting the humour across, and partly because I'm really proud of what I achieved that morning!

So now I have to pass on the tag to five other bloggers. So 7 links on their way to:

1. Callie Mills - Ruffle Your Feathers
2. Carolina Leseigneur - GoodCatt's Random Musings
3. Pepe's Chile Adoration Page
   
   Next was going to be fellow Chile blogger Angie Clifford with Angie's life, but she's already been tagged so instead we change topic to...
   
   
4. Ruth Lund - Cherry Coloured Twist
5. Emma Fassio - Emma Fassio Knitting

Addendum: Volcán Puyehue

When I moved to Chile, I was aware that there were certain risks involved. Earthquakes for example. And so, I was prepared. I read up on what we needed to do, I made sure we had a stock cupboard full of emergency supplies, and I practised running under the table to make sure I'd fit. With time, I've become accustomed to feeling the ground shake and to hearing our apartment building go bang now and again.

What I wasn't prepared for, was volcanoes. Volcanoes to me are the stuff of legend. They happen in Pompeii, in ancient times, or in Iceland, where the whole landscape is volcanic. Of course I know that Chile is located on the Pacific ring of fire. That's why it has earthquakes, right? But duh, it also means it has volcanoes. Active ones.

So there we are, happily living the high life in Termas de Puyehue. From our balcony window we can see the snow-covered Volcán Puyehue, sitting in the Caulle volcanic range. It hasn't erupted in more than five decades. Carlos casually tells me that he saw a puff of smoke from the range during his cabalgata. This, he was told, is quite normal, especially in winter, where obviously the difference between the air temperature and that of the volcanic crater means more steam gets produced. It's when there's smoke in the heat of summer, or no smoke for days, that the locals start to worry.

 Volcán Puyehue, before it erupted

A couple of days later in Valdivia, we see on the morning news predictions of a seismic swarm for Puyehue - a series of smallish earthquakes in close succession. How exciting we think, and how funny that we were there just a few days before.

In Pucón, we giggle at a volcano warning system, joking to ourselves that we wouldn't be hanging around to watch the light change to red if there was smoke billowing from the crater of Volcán Villarrica. I lament that I've spent the whole week around volcanoes and have yet to see any smoke, annoyed but in good humour that Carlos has and I haven't.

Happily we return home from our holiday, go to sleep for a few hours before hooking ourselves back up to the internet to see what we've missed during the previous 9 days. It's then that I see the messages on Facebook. Where are you? Have you left Puyehue? Are you stuck waiting for a flight? It's then that I discover that as we were sitting in Pucón bus terminal, that volcano that from the hot volcanic springs of Puyehue we'd watch turn pink with the sunset, had exploded.

Over the coming days, as I return to my day job and start writing news stories about it, we discover that large parts of the region we had been staying in days before had been evacuated. The pass over the mountains to Argentina is closed. And the most beautiful place on earth is covered with ash, Bariloche's crystal blue waters grey with sediment.

It's then that I realise we've had a lucky escape, and that with a landscape of such great beauty, must come respect for the earth that created it.

Some of my stories about the Puyehue volcano:

• Volcán Puyehue: the latest outlook, I Love Chile (08/06/11)
• Satellite images of volcanic ash plume made available by authorities, I Love Chile (08/06/11)
• Life in the shelter: evacuees from Volcán Puyehue try to regain normality, I Love Chile (08/06/11)
• Puyehue volcano: latest, I Love Chile (14/06/11)
• Volcanic ash reaches Chile, I Love Chile (17/06/11)
• Puyehue evacuees return home, I Love Chile (20/06/11)

Civil unrest

Positive is usually the watchword of this blog, but I want to capture my Chilean Adventures in full, so I'm afraid this post is going to focus on one of its more ugly sides.

Caveat out of the way, I can tell you that we have spent the last week in the centre of a whirlwind of civil disturbances. As I write, the click of the keyboard is accompanied by the din of saucepans being banged together outside. This is the latest in a string of protests against a hydroelectricity project in Patagonia that will see five mega dams built in one of the most unspoilt regions of the country, billed as essential fuel for a country poised to enter 'developed nation' status very soon.

On Monday night, I exited the Metro station to the shock of having my nose burned with tear gas. Thursday, after a student protest, I walked home to find traffic lights snapped in two. And on Friday, in the biggest of the demonstrations so far, thousands of protesters marched chanting down our road, before a small minority tipped over a glass recycling bin to arm themselves ready to take aim at the police.

The location of our building is the equivalent of being a few blocks away from the Houses of Parliament in London, so it is not surprising that we are seeing so much action. That said, the sheer number of both protesters and demonstrations is not something we are accustomed to in the UK. Estimates for Friday were 30,000 people and more civil action is planned over the coming days.

Before anyone begins to worry, we are fine. By and large, the demonstrations are peaceful; some vandalism happens, but the scenes are little worse than Birmingham's Broad Street on a Saturday night. In fact, the protesters are infinitely better-mannered. Tear gas and water cannons are used, because the police are quick to disperse people at the merest hint of trouble. While staying inside may be the best option, it's interesting to witness a nation so vocal and active in expressing itself, quite a contrast to the 'keep calm and carry on' culture I've come from.

In case you want to know more:

• I Love Chile, HidroAysén protests: view from the ground - Santiago, 14/05/11

A time of amazing opportunities

I was reflecting this morning on some of the amazing things I've done since I arrived here in Chile. And it occurred to me that not only am I on an incredible adventure in an incredible country, but that I am having opportunities to experience some of the most normal things in an amazing way.

Take for instance, last Friday's royal wedding. As previously expressed, I'm not particularly a royalist, and was becoming a little tired of being constantly asked for my opinion on the nuptials as the resident Brit. However, I'd geared myself up to watch the ceremony comfortably curled up on the sofa in my pyjamas. I had to watch it for the dress at least!

That all changed though, when late on Thursday afternoon, an email came through to me at the I Love Chile office inviting us to cover a celebratory breakfast at the British Ambassador's house here in Santiago.

Pushing aside my qualms over posh networking events, where - gasp - I actually have to talk to people I don't know, I decided to attend. Boy am I glad I did.

I arrived at the Ambassador's residence in the exclusive neighbourhood of El Golf just before 7am, in time to see Kate Middleton enter Westminster Abbey and the dress revealed. Those invited were served tea in china cups (so very British) before settling down in front of a big screen to watch the event. The audience, made-up of various members of the British-Chilean community, sat attentively, lapping up the lashings of pomp and circumstance that reminded us all of home. Despite feeling weepy at various points (not least Jerusalem - if anything stirs-up a mixture of homesickness and patriotism in me it's that hymn), I managed to hold myself together!

Watching the wedding at the British Ambassador's
residence

Following the ceremony, we were served, what else, but a nice slice of cake. The Ambassador then gave a short speech, highlighting how this was the start of a period of celebration for the UK - with the Queen's Diamond Jubilee and the Olympic Games both coming up next year. I felt truly connected to home, regardless of the distance.

For me, this was a truly unforgettable morning. I don't think I would have ever had the opportunity to experience something like that if I had been at home; somehow, by being here, opportunities are magnified. Maybe because I only have 11 months here I am compelled to grab everything that's offered and truly savour every experience. Maybe because I am away, I have a new perspective. Either way, certain things that would otherwise be trivial, become spectacular.

Immigration

Today was a big day. Today was the day I did the scariest thing I've done so far in Chile: renew my tourist visa.

It may not sound like much, but I had been warned of mountains of bureaucracy and hours of queuing. And more pertinently for me, I faced three big fears:

• language - not understanding what I was being asked;
• orientation - not knowing what I was supposed to do and where and when;
• expulsion - a personal paranoia, but a fear that I may do something wrong and have my request to stay refused.

So, I got up early, armed with insider knowledge about the process from a colleague of Carlos' but without my usual trusty translator, and took myself down to the extranjería or immigration office.

Upon arrival, I quickly located the queue I'd been warned about - it reached out the door, snaked around the landing and started to go up the stairs. I cleared the first hurdle of asking the person in front of me if it was the right queue and lined up alongside the other, mainly Peruvian, migrants.

Thankfully, the queue moved quickly and within around 15 minutes I was issued with a number and told to go downstairs to the tourist department. Being one of the first, I was soon called by a man who seemed reasonably friendly, slightly bored, but with quite a stern face. I timidly bid him good morning and sat down asking to extend my tourist visa.

Annoyingly, I cannot say the proper word for an 'extension' as it involves both a single and a double 'r': prórroga. This is the worst possible combination of sounds for me, which my poor tongue just can't get itself around. But I think he got the gist as he started to type into his computer.

"¿Estado civil?" he asks me. Oh! I know this one! "Soltera" I answer, relief evident on my face.

"¿Profesión?" This flusters me a little. I don't have a profession, and I certainly don't have a job in Chile otherwise I wouldn't be applying for a tourist visa, right? Eventually, I plump for "Editora". Now that didn't look suspicious. Much later, I remember that in Chile people still have the concept of a profession - i.e. they go to university to train in a particular field and that takes them onto jobs within that field. They are qualified as a journalist or a specialist in a public relations etc. but there are no sideways career moves. They don't study English Literature and then wander into marketing via copywriting and web management.

Anyway, next question. "Blah blah blah... en Chile?" This could be how long are you planning to be in Chile but this is a formal procedure so I'd better not guess. I ask him to repeat: "blah blah blah... en Chile?" Oh god. I still didn't catch it. After what feels like an eternity of mumbling and bumbling, I manage to bluster: "la pregunta es...?" ("the question is...?") and look at him inquisitively. "Di-rec-ción" he says pointedly. Ah! Address! The street name trips off my tongue. Then - oh no! - I've never given my address in Spanish before. How on earth do you say one thousand four hundred and five again? Big numbers are not my strong point.

I get through it and then with one last moment of hilarity, which finally manages to crack a smile on this poor man's face, I tell him the last digit of my phone number is "snow" - "nieve" instead of "nueve". It could have been worse.

After this there's a bit more to-ing and fro-ing, having to walk to a nearby bank to pay the admin fee, then go back to the same office, but this time without a number as I was told I didn't need one, just to go there directly.

Being British, I didn't like to stride back up to the desk, so I sat at the back of the room for a while trying to suss out my tactics, until a kindly French girl (who showed up my linguistic inadequacy by talking to me in English when I didn't understand her Spanish) told me that unless I pushed in I was going to sit there all afternoon because without a number I was never going to get called. So I mustered as much latina as I could and plonked myself back down in front of the same guy. And was finally rewarded with my extended visa!

Sampling all aspects of Chilean life

Me being me it was going to happen eventually: I was going to wind up in an A&E department and have the opportunity to learn about the Chilean health system first hand. But before anyone panics, nothing serious has happened.

On Friday morning I noticed I had some insect bites on my arm. Nothing out of the ordinary there, as I seem to be a pretty tasty dish of foreign cuisine to the local nippers. The great thing about Chile though is that there are very few animal-related things that can harm you, especially without you realising it. As far as unidentified bites and stings go, there is no malaria or similar mosquito-carried diseases, no poisonous snakes and no deadly scorpions. All there is, are two poisonous spiders, and only one of these lives in the city.

The city spider is the araña de rincon or brown recluse. Fortunately for us humans, it's not aggressive and doesn't go biting humans willy-nilly. It hunts at night and has a habit of running away if it gets startled, usually into the nearest nook, frequently a pile of clothes or bedsheets. Herein lies the danger, the spider only bites if it gets attacked - i.e. squashed - so if you roll onto it or put your shoes on without shaking them first you might be in trouble.

Back to my story, over Friday and Saturday, around the place where I had two bites close together, a red patch had begun growing outwards in a circle and was becoming more and more swollen and itchy. Now, I've had bites similar to this before, which a very well-travelled friend of mine had believed to be spider bites. Knowing what I know about the rincon, I was more than a little concerned.

So on late Saturday afternoon, after a call to the insurance company and some rather grisly research on the internet (sometimes I wish we didn't have the internet and all the gruesome pictures and tales it provides - not that I'm being much better myself here) I decided I'd better take myself off to Clinica Alemana.

Still a little confused about how you actually access medical care, from what I can gather, there are a number of super-clinics, which provide A&E, hospital treatment and general GP appointments. Clinica Alemena is one of the three most super-duper of these super clinics and recommended for gringos as they advertise that they speak English (among other languages).

Nonetheless, I took my trusty translator with me, and thank goodness I did. While I managed to see a doctor who spoke English, the receptionists did not, and were rather less than pleased when we deigned to ask them whether they might. Medical receptionists seem to be the same wherever you go then... (sorry medical receptionists, I'm sure it's only a small minority but I do seem to pick them at times).

I was seen very swiftly - not even time to sit down in the waiting room - and was ushered into a very clean and modern treatment area. A couple of preliminary heart rate and blood pressure checks (although oddly no medical history questions) and then a short wait until the doctor breezed in, took one look at my arm and told me it wasn't a spider (phew all round) and just a nasty allergic reaction. All that was needed was a mega-dose of antihistamines and anti-inflammatories and I was off again.

Overall, I think I was in the hospital maybe an hour and a half at most. A far cry from the usual four hours in A&E you can expect to spend in the UK. Although I was paying for the privilege. The building was new, fresh, light and modern, very clean and set in lovely grounds. It had a calm atmosphere and the staff were in general very courteous and nice. The one odd aspect being the branding was very similar to that of Sainsbury's - red, orange and purple banners, the same font and white writing on windows. I was a little confused at one point whether I was actually in a Sainsbury's cafe or a hospital.

A day of small victories

Ok, I have a confession to make. I'm afraid I have spent the majority of the past week hiding in our flat, too scared to go out and feeling both isolated and frustrated by my inability to communicate with the world outside. I have found that I can increasingly understand a lot of written Spanish, I can even utter a few sentences of my own, but when someone responds? Not a clue!

However, this morning I have been extremely brave and forced myself outside the front door. And I am delighted to report the following small successes:

• I managed to ask to send a letter to England at the post office, understand the price quoted and pay
• I dropped in to a language school and enrolled for Spanish lessons - introducing myself in Spanish
• I topped up my travel pass at the metro station

These may sound like very small things, but for me they are a big deal, and I am so pleased with myself for tackling them. Hopefully now with my Spanish classes starting tomorrow, I will feel increasingly confident having a go at talking to people!

First impressions

I have now spent my first full 48 hours in Chile and it has been a time of mixed emotions and impressions.

As I flew in over the Andes I was struck with a sudden feeling of fear, thinking to myself "what on earth am I doing here?" Unexpectedly, I felt entirely unprepared for what lay ahead, as if I hadn't given it any thought at all, which in a way I hadn't.

But then I found Carlos at the airport and arrived at our lovely, cosy little flat. I felt comforted, pottering about to the sounds of Chile's 200 years of independence celebrations in the streets below and admiring the stunning view of the country's coastal mountain range from the luxury of our bedroom window.

Yesterday brought fresh challenges - venturing outside. Finding myself genuinely petrified by not understanding any of the words around me, the noisy underground, stray dogs, flies and other biting insects, I found myself wanting to go home and hide. I believe I was quite unbearable...

Then quite out of nowhere, the most spectacular scene I have ever been lucky enough to set eyes on. The whole of Santiago spread out before me, buttressed by the magnificent snow-capped Andes to the East and the coastal mountains in the West, all witnessed from the pinnacle of Cerro San Cristóbal. Absolutely breathtaking.

Just a third of the view from the top of Cerro San Cristóbal