Things I’ve been up to lately: La Bicicleta Verde Tour

One of the things I haven’t been up to lately, unfortunately, is taking cheap holidays in Turkey. However, I did recently go on a Bicicleta Verde Tour. We toured “La Chimba” which is what the part of Santiago that is on the other side of the Mapocho River used to be called. This part of the city was for the servants, immigrants, and basically anyone who didn’t fit in with the “high society” during the colonial period and early republic. Starting in 1900, Palestinians started immigrating to Chile, escaping persecution by the Ottoman Empire, and settling in the Patronato neighborhood. They arrived with Turkish passports, and therefore to this day, Chileans call all people of Middle Eastern descent turcos.  Though by no means politically correct,  at least there is a historical explanation.

With my green bike in Parque Forestal near the end of the tour

Our guide also told us that Chile has the largest Palestine community outside of the Arab world. Barrio Patronato definitely demonstrates this, with Orthodox churches and delicious middle eastern restaurants. The community even has its own soccer team.

Even though I’ve been in Santiago for a total of more than four years, and have been on more than a few tours of Santiago, I learned quite a few tidbits that I hadn’t known before.

  • Cerro San Cristobal used to be a quarry without any vegetation. La Moneda Presidential palace is made from rocks from San Cristobal. The hill was planted at the turn of the 20th Century to create a park for the high society.
  • For Chile’s Centennial celebration in 1910, various countries donated statues and fountains to Chile. The virgin on top of San Cristobal was donated by France, the statue in Plaza Italia was donated by none other than Italy (hence, giving the plaza its name) and the fountain in Parque Forestal by Germany, which then gave name to one of the best sandwhich shops in Santiago, La Fuente Alemana.
  • Parque Forestal used to be a private garden for the aristocrats who lived in the Bellas Artes neighborhood.

We toured through La Vega and El Mercado Central, which was interesting with a group of 7 young gringas. We called a lot of attention, but the piropos were all either funny or harmless, nothing gross or threatening. Mostly people either wanted to sell us something, tell us we were beautiful, or ask where we were from. It helped that our guide knew a lot of the workers. I know piropos are a controversial topic, and maybe I shouldn’t be so blasé about it, but the truth is that 90% of the time I find them hilarious and they don’t bother me.

I definitley recommend La Bicicleta Verde’s bike tours. Our guide was knowledgable, and she and our “back-up” were both concerned for our group’s safety. We went with a couple of girls who were beginning bikers, but even so, they did great and not once did I feel in danger of having an accident.

La Bicicleta Verde is located on Loreto 6, two blocks from Bellas Artes metro stop. They have the morning tour (which we did) and an afternoon tour called Parks and Politics, as well as an evening tour of uptown Santiago.

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Things I’ve been up to lately: La Ruta de las Picadas

Since I don’t have very much time left in Santiago, I’m trying to take advantage and do lots of fun or interesting things. Of course I’m also working more than full time, trying to keep up with blogging, start selling stuff from my apartment and various other tramites, which results in a less than ideal amount of sleep. However, as someone somewhere once said, I’ll sleep when I’m dead.

Today I want to talk about La Ruta de las Picadas. A few weeks ago Eileen invited me along and I hardly ever say no to Eileen, so I went. A picada is a restaurant that is cheap, has good food, and has some sort of history. Rarely do these types of places advertise; it is mostly by word of mouth. One place we went to, El Rincón de las Canallas, required a password to enter.

We went to four places, each featuring Chilean food and terremotos, which is a popular Chilean drink made from green white wine (pipeño), fernet (a liquor popular in Argentina) and pineapple ice cream. The best part, for me, is the pineapple ice cream! Terremoto means earthquake, and the legend goes that after one of these drinks, you feel like the earth is quaking.

Various types of meat with some alcohol thrown in there at the end.

Here are the places we visited, in order of best to worst.

La Pipa del Serrano

This is the only place I would actually consider coming back to, even though it was home to the not so yummy veggie sandwich. It had a nice ambiance, it was clean, and there was a guy playing guitar and singing traditional Chilean music. It’s on Serrano 299, near Metro Universidad de Chile, about three blocks south of the Alameda.

El Rincón de las Canallas

This place was interesting because of its history. I can’t remember the whole story, but it was a place for people against the dictatorship during the 1980s. During that time, there was a password to get in, and it changed every day. Patrons would listen to a certain radio DJ who would subtly insert the secret phrase during his radio show. Now, there is still a password but everyone knows it: “Chile Libre”.

El Rincón de las Canallas

The food we ate wasn’t anything special and I didn’t really like the maremoto (aka tsunami, aka a terremoto with fruit) but it was fun to see the decoration and all of the business cards and writing on the walls by the patrons. I made sure to leave my mark too. :) It is located at Tarapaca 810, on the corner of San Francisco.

D’Jango

We didn’t eat here, we just poked our heads in. I don’t really feel compelled to go back though!

Las Tejas de San Diego

This was by far my least favorite place. It is an old theater with all of the seats taken out. Apparently Chico Trujillo and other famous Chilean bands sometimes play here. But  honestly, that wouldn’t make me want to go back. What really grossed me out was a giant dumpster in the middle of the tables where the waiters threw away the empty plastic terremoto cups and dirty napkins. Gross! However, the terremoto was ok, although I have to admit I mostly just ate out the pineapple ice cream.

With my terremoto.

 

If you would like to go on this tour, get in touch with Corporación Cultural Gestarte

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There are places I’ll remember all my life

I admit it. I have been in sort of denial about how sad leaving Chile is going to be for me. I am doing this on purpose, for my own emotional well-being. I really really hate saying goodbye. When I was a student here, I spent pretty much the last two months of my seven month stay thinking about leaving and crying a lot. This time, I’ve really been trying to enjoy my time here and not think about leaving. But last night as I watched the season finale of Glee, where everyone was saying goodbye, it really hit me. And when this song was played, a song that was played at my high school graduation, and that my host brother sang at my despedida when I was a student, I couldn’t hold it together. Leaving is going to be hard.

Abrígate!

We are well into fall here in the southern hemisphere. We’ve had a few days that have been down right cold and had me dreaming of Magaluf holidays. Magaluf, for those of you who don’t know (like me) is a resort town on the Spanish island of Majorca, and let me tell you, as I’m cuddled up here under a fleece blanket wishing I were wearing finger-less gloves: I would love to be vacationing there now!

But back to reality. Even though I don’t necessarily believe that temperature causes illness, I have to say that quite stereotypically, I got sick just as the temperatures dropped. Of course all of the Chileans in my life (except for the ones that know me too well) commented about how the changes in temperature were the cause of my sickness. It was the heat in the office, it was because I was riding my bike too much in the cold, it was the warm days and cold nights, and it was because I wasn’t bundling up enough.

Abrigar, in Spanish, means to bundle up, and it’s a good word to know, because you’ll hear it a lot in Chile. Chilean mother’s everywhere can be heard telling their children: “Abrigate bien!” or “Bundle up well!” This means wearing a camiseta (thin long-sleeved undershirt), a sweater, scarf and jacket on top, pants or polar lined tights on the bottom and good shoes with warm socks.

When I’m home for the weekend, I dress like this because my apartment is cold! (Or I wear a fleece blanket around like a cape, but that’s just me.) However, when I am out and about in the world I have a few problems with this mentality. First of all, my office has central heating. If I dress as described above, I am hot and miserable all day. Second of all, I walk or bike. As someone who believes sickness comes from germs, I avoid the metro as much as possible. It’s a cesspool of germs! So when I walk or bike, I get hot and end up carrying my scarf, jacket and sweater in my arms or putting them in the bike basket. It’s awkward.

So, world, that is why I am not abrigada. When I was sick last week, I got chewed out for being desabrigada (unbundled?) many times until I finally started lying and saying I was wearing a camiseta de polar (a polar undershirt) even though I wasn’t, just to get people off my back.

Consider this your warning. If you’re in Chile in the winter, make sure you’re abrigada or face the wrath of every Chilean you may meet. Between that and the cold, it will make you wish you were on the next plane to Magaluf.

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Why you gotta be so mean?

There were some kids who were mean to me in school. I got teased sometimes and there was this one jerk in 5th grade who thought it was super clever to call me “Flabby Abby.” There were the popular girls in middle school who didn’t let me sit on the rocks with them at lunch. One time in 9th grade a girl I knew asked me, “Is it hard for you that your sister is so much prettier than you?” But in the grand scheme of things, I was never seriously bullied, and I’m so thankful for that.

I know that bullying has gotten worse since I’ve been out of school, and it breaks my heart. I hope this song is some small consolation for those who are going through it now. And if it serves as any consolation, most of the kids who were mean to me in school turned out to be huge losers who didn’t go anywhere in life. And here I am, livin’ in a big ole city… :)

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The Many Faces of Sir Charles

Sometimes I stay in on a Saturday night and edit photos of my cat. Don’t judge.

Also, this is a post for the people who don’t believe me when I say that I’m bringing him with me to the U.S.

FAQ, the “I’m leaving Chile” edition

In two months and two days, I’ll be leaving Chile. This has obviously brought about a lot of questions from the people in my life. And I figured maybe my blog readers are wondering too. So here we go.

1. When are you leaving?

Tuesday, July 17th.

Raleigh, North Carolina, via Wikimedia Commons

2. Where will you be living?

Raleigh, North Carolina, a place I’ve never been! But I have only ever heard good things about that area of North Carolina.

3. What are you going to do?

I will be studying a Masters in International Studies at North Carolina State University, with a concentration in International Education.

Charlie is coming with me!

4. What are you going to do with Charlie?

He’s coming with me, OF COURSE! He already has his plane reservation. He’ll be traveling in the cabin with me. It’s actually not hard to bring cats to the U.S. They just need a recent rabies vaccine. There are some rules about him leaving Chile, which requires me to get some documents signed at SAG. Check back later for a more detailed post about this process, but I’m told it’s pretty painless! I’m hoping the flight won’t be too hard on him.

5. Are you going to miss Chile?

Of course. More than words can express. I love my life here, but for many reasons, it’s the right time for me to go back to the U.S. and study a Masters. I am going to miss my friends, my job, my apartment, the cordillera, good public transportation, my Chilean family, (some) food, speaking Spanish all the time, etc.

6. Are you excited?

Yes, and terrified. I’m excited to go home for a couple of weeks, see my family, and re-group. I am absolutely terrified of moving to a new city, looking for an apartment, making new friends, studying again after 4 years, learning a new public transportation system, living in the south (if anyone calls me Yankee I will punch them in the face), probably living with a roommate, and the list goes on. BUT, I know that once I get settled in, I will be fine. Plus, if I did all of these things in Santiago, Chile, I know I can do them in North Carolina.

I love being surrounded by mountains…definitely going to miss having this view from my apartment!

7. Are you coming back?

To Chile, ever in my life? For sure. I know that this won’t be my last time in the country. I love it too much to stay away. Whether I will come back here to live, I don’t know. I’m keeping my options open. I would love to come back, and I’m studying something that will allow me to do so. However, a lot can happen in two years, and I don’t know what opportunities will present themselves during that time. One thing is for sure, I will never cut ties with Chile, it’s my second home!

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My love, I can’t hide

More than any song in the world, this one reminds me of my Mom. And since yesterday was Mother’s Day and Friday was her birthday, I find it fitting.

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For my mother on her special day

Every year since I can remember, my mother has written me an acrostic poem in my birthday card. So, in her honor, here is one for a very special birthday.

Relaxed, ready to help, really respectful

Outstanding giver of hugs and advice

Beautiful, brilliant

youthful and young

Never says no when I need her near.

I love you, Mum! Have a very Happy Birthday!

 

Photo Credits in order chrisinplymouth, chrisinplymouth, mag3737, Pete Ashton, chrisinplymouth

Illogical Feelings of Islolation

The wide expanse of the horizon in Minnesota. 

I live in an era when transportation is fast and communication almost instant, yet I sometimes get a strange panicky feeling of being isolated or stranded. It happened to me in Minneapolis, even though I was in a city of around 3 million people, and hardly ever alone.  As I looked out over the city from the Foshay Tower, I could see for miles and miles and miles. No mountains. No coast. Just land. I was in the middle of nowhere. I started to feel slightly panicky.

Perth Australia

Perth Australia, via Destination Europe on Flickr

This is probably why thinking about booking flights to Perth, Australia, or going anywhere in Australia kind of freaks me out. I have nothing against the country, one of my best friends is from there, and another best friend studied there for a whole year. I’m sure it’s lovely. But that doesn’t mean that it’s not very far away, and in my mind, isolated in the middle of the ocean. And within Australia, Perth is all by it’s lonesome over on the Western coast, surrounded by desert and ocean. Don’t even get me started on those tiny islands in the Pacific. It boggles my mind that people live there.

And this is all very silly, considering that I myself live at “the end of the world” in a country that is called a virtual island because of its isolation from the rest of South America.

Before I moved to Chile in 2009, my grandmother gave me the book Inés of My Soul by Isabel Allende. It tells the story of the founding of Chile by Pedro de Valdivia, through the eyes of his lover, Inés de Suarez. From reading this book, I’m realizing what isolation really is. The Spanish settlers in Santiago were ISOLATED. They crossed the Atacama desert by horseback, and for a long time had no ships or easy ways to get back to Peru, which was the capital of the Spanish colonies at the time.

At the beginning of September, we realized that our first winter in Chile had come to an end. The weather improved and buds came out on the young trees we had transplanted from the forest to line the streets. Those months had been hard not just because of the Indians’ harassment and Sancho de la Hoz’s conspiring, but also for the forsaken feeling that frequently overwhelmed us. We wondered what was happening in the rest of the world, whether there had been Spanish conquests in other territories, new inventions, what was the state of our emperor…(pg 187-189)

Of course, the Mapuche people had been living peacefully and happily in “isolation” before the Inca, and then the Spanish, arrived. And not to say that I lived like a Mapuche growing up in Vermont, not in the least, but when I was more sheltered, when the only part of the world I really knew was New England, I never felt this way. It’s as if traveling and seeing new places has made me realize how HUGE the world is, and how tiny I am in comparison. When I really was “isolated” up in the countryside of Vermont, I never felt that way.

Gone are the days of trekking across the Atacama or climbing over the Andes mountains or sailing through the Pacific. Now, I can get in a taxi and be at the airport in less than an hour and take a flight almost anywhere. Isolation hardly exists anymore, except maybe in my head.

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