Santiago, Chile: Street Art, Dogs, Structure Fires

Some of you may have noticed that I haven't written anything about Chile despite having been here for 26 days. Frankly, it took us quite a while before we actually started doing anything more interesting than working, cooking at home, and walking the dogs. We finally started getting out more and seeing the sights, and since it's a long weekend here in Santiago (for Easter) I figured I'd sit down and make a post for you all.

Yesterday, though, the neighbor's house caught on fire.

I would say that for average neighborhood fires, people gather around and watch as the fire department arrives and does their thing, and then folks eventually disperse and go on with their lives. That was not our day.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Our Little Santiago Adventure

John and I ended up in Santiago, Chile, because of Trustedhousesitters.com, a site that connects potential house-sitters with the folks who need them. We found a 30-something couple who wanted to take off for a month to go on their belated honeymoon and needed someone to take care of their two cute little dogs, water the garden, and keep an eye on the pool.

Mario - surfer dude good looks and hyperactive tendencies

Margarita - puppy-like coordination, cuteness, and
enthusiasm (esp. for food); actually old and deaf as a doorknob

We arrived, settled in, and our first couple weeks here were actually rather boring. We didn't go out much due to our daily schedule of working, feeding the vegan dogs three times, 30+ minutes of watering the garden, etc.

We're in Vitacura, a neighborhood with one of the highest incomes per capita in Santiago and, to be honest, not much flavor. All the houses have high walls around them and angry, barking dogs, and the nearest shopping is an American-style mall with only the most expensive stores. There's an Applebee's nearby.

The point here is Vitacura = boring. And squeezing in a 1.5 hour round-trip commute to visit the happening parts of Santiago just wasn't on our agenda.

When we finally started squeezing in some time to explore, things got interesting.

John's birthday is on St. Patrick's Day, and a half-Irish Santiagoan told me about an Irish Pub we might try. A little cheesy to go to an Irish pub in South America, but whatever. Turns out they were having four days of celebration.

Left to right: John, Oversized Leprechaun, Chris - a friend of the couple we're housesitting for

Plus they had a live Irish-ish band, Celtic and Scottish dancing, and
the best-named bagpipe ensemble ever: the Andes Highlander Pipe Band

Our trip to the gigantic vegetable market, La Vega, 

was when Santiago started to feel like a real place, instead of Disneyland.

Maybe the only photo you'll see of me

So here's a preview of a few topics I'd like to expand on in future posts:

Public parks: canoodler's delight

Street art: brilliant. Hoping to go into depth on this one.

Museums: closed on Mondays! Like everything else - but no one tells you that, do they?

Plaza de Armas: old stuff, performers, artisans, soapboxers yelling about Dios

And that brings us to our most recent adventure,

The Fire

Don't remember signing up for this.

I'm afraid I don't have any photos of the towering flames to share with you because we were too busy scrambling to get the dogs outside and grab our most important possessions.

But we had a GREAT view of the flames through the upstairs windows.

Yep, that view right there. Post flames.
The firemen in the foreground are actually standing on our building.

Frankly, our house probably should have caught on fire. John and I were certainly acting on that potential. The house on the left was less lucky.

Things that might have helped:

• it was cooler and damper than most mornings,
• the hodgepodge roofs of both buildings are metal where they meet,
• it was daytime so someone noticed the fire early enough, and
• John and an unknown man turned the hoses on the roof, after the dogs and I made it across the street ( ♥ ) 

The landlady was out of town(!) so her son and ex-husband came over.

Someone came in to help us turn the gas off. 

The shopkeeper two doors down watched our bags (with laptops, cameras, passports, a small amount of clothing - whatever was in arm's reach) while I took the dogs to the nearest park to get them away from the excitement and John hosed the roof and kept an eye on the house. 

Chris, from the Leprechaun photo, came over to act as translator/moral support until we knew everything was okay. 

Belén, our very vegan local friend we also met through the folks we're sitting for, called and asked if we needed any help as soon as she saw the smoke-filled photos I posted on Facebook. 

And no one next door was hurt. And they have family here.

Me and Belén: goofy tourist photo FAIL

So while it was a nerve-wracking and stressful several hours (with much lingering tension), we were lucky enough to be spared needing to find last-minute dog-friendly housing in a city we don't know, using a language we suck at. 

And fires seem darn good at bringing folks together.

But I can't even describe how it feels to see these poor people's house every time I go upstairs.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Soooo... hopefully my next blog post will be much less exciting, but I'm curious - which topics are you guys actually interested in hearing about? 

No sense in subjecting you all to a long treatise on local high-schooler fashion (though it might be fun for me to take photos of the kids) if you'd rather read about the local raw vegan food scene (also a subject I have access to), or any of the aforementioned subjects...

Let me know! Either comment or shoot me an email/Facebook message. Thanks ♥

A Hindu Wedding in Panamá

So it seems I have a few more things to touch on before I'll feel satisfied and can move on from Panamá. A fun one:

The reason we started our adventure in Panama City 

is because John's good friend from college, Gerald, and his fiancée, Piali, decided to have a destination wedding in Panama. Gerald's father was stationed at the Panama Canal back in the day, and Gerald's mom is Panamanian. I only first met G&P the day before they got engaged, but I was (am) lucky enough to be John's +1, so I got to enjoy the festivities too.

We stayed at the resort where the wedding was being held for three nights, as it was John's last chance to we hang out with his friends for who knows how long. A couple of them I knew (and loved) already but meeting and hanging out with more was great. I haven't been to too many weddings outside my family and was a little relieved to feel so welcomed by Gerald and Piali and the Madison Motorsports gang (the club that "the boys" were all part of/founded at JMU).

I'm having trouble not turning this into a novel with all the potential backstories!

The resort, Playa Bonita, was quite fancypants and our room had an exceptional view:

On the horizon you can just make out cargo ships waiting their turn to go through the Canal

Oh yes.

But the WEDDING, now that was cool. 

My sisters both had nontraditional weddings but this was my first time at a wedding that was solidly grounded in a different culture. Soooooooo interesting. I didn't take a picture of the program (stupid!) but it was an abridged Hindu wedding - apparently the traditional version lasts all day.

The officiator did a really good job of translating into English and explaining things, but in the end I think I'd have to read a 1000 page book to start to get a sense of what all the different parts signified, as an outsider to the culture. For example, Piali had to step on and break seven(?) "bowls." In her bare feet. Clearly these were special bowls. And there were a lot of water offerings for various things, which from my vantage point looked like dipping a flower in water and then flicking the flower to make the water come off. Don't see that very often in the part of the world I come from. Why a flower? Is the flower significant or is it just a pretty thing to dip in the water?

My favorite part was the water offering for universal peace. Universal peace! What a noble goal for a wedding ceremony! Suddenly it's not only about family and community coming together to support two people, it's about everyone and everything. How ridiculously cool is that? Why don't we have those?

Maybe some day I'll be lucky enough to get to see a full length wedding (after reading up on it!), but I have to say I was rather relieved I wasn't transformed into a freshly boiled lobster by a full day in the hot Panamanian sun.

And of course, in keeping with longstanding wedding tradition John and I were scrambling at the last second, and I forgot to bring a camera. Fortunately, John had his phone and we did get a few photos.

Piali's Mom placing a garland of flowers on Gerald 

Breaking the bowls?

I am grateful I had the opportunity to be there, and they're a good match (very lively, nice couple) so I wish them many many happy years together.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I might need to do one more Panamá post before I can dig in to Santiago, but that's a good thing because I haven't been here long enough to do anything worth talking about!

Until next time - ciao!

Pedasí, Panama

Community, Cowboys, Surfers

This was our "beach vacation" town. It had a bit of an American Southwest-meets-Surf bum town vibe to it, and was even smaller than El Valle. We spent two nights at La Rosa de Los Vientos B&B/Hostal ("The Wind of the Rose"), which was definitely the most tastefully decorated place we've stayed so far.

Two neat things I feel like mentioning:

Our first restaurant meal in Pedasí was at a little Italian place, Pasta y Vino, and was delicious (in a gourmet kind of way) and very reasonably priced with surprisingly attentive service, but the coolest thing was that everyone seemed to know everyone else and there were lots of warm greetings. Our B&B owner said Pedasí is a nice small-town community, and I believe him. That's cool.

We only spent one day on the beach, but we had a GIGANTIC stretch of sandy beach to ourselves. The ocean was a little too intense (it was so windy the previous night that the B&B lost internet connectivity, along with everyone else on the peninsula), but we waded out a little bit and splashed in the waves, trying to be mindful of the undertow. It was a bit cloudy but we sunbathed for a bit anyway - whipping, stinging sand be damned - and we enjoyed it all thoroughly. We walked over 7 miles that day and then John ran another 6...

This post is brief, because we weren't there long, we're now in South America (a new continent - woo!), and I feel the need to post in mostly-chronological order. So here's some photos. Sorry I didn't edit most of them.

Our "backyard"

Our "back patio"

"John's" hammock, ocean in the distance

In town

Almost expect to see a tumbleweed rolling by

Frogs make excellent accordion players

Future retirement home

Our "private beach"

A fellow nomad

Random Thoughts on Panama

So we're nearing the end of our time here in Panama. Actually, we arrived January 16, which means today is our six-week anniversary.

¡Feliz aniversario!

We will be flying from Panama City to Santiago, Chile on March 5, so we have one more week here in Panama. I think it's acceptable timing to have a mini retrospective, so here goes.

My Spanish still sucks

But WOW I am so much more functional than when I got here! I mean, wow! 

Our first full day here I was horrified to discover that our waitress didn't understand me when I asked for water. Agua! I've known that word for 20-25 years now and she straight-up did not understand me. My pronunciation was off, I guessed, which was even more horrifying. "Ah-gwah?" "Ah-wah?" I felt fear in my heart for the next month's worth of water-ordering.

Last night I asked our waitress, in Spanish, if they had any desserts (just because there are desserts on the menu doesn't mean they actually have them, in Panamá). She told me they had a house flan, lemon pie, and some kind of mousse. Passionfruit mousse, we determined by looking at the menu.

Then I asked which one she liked, and apologized for my atrocious Spanish. She said either the flan or the mousse, and warned me the mousse was... something that sounded like "acidic."John and I decided after we tasted our mousse that whatever word she used might have meant "tart."

I could not have had that conversation six weeks ago.

Of course (claro, according to my Spanish Is Fun textbook), almost all of my vocabulary revolves around food. You have to eat before you can walk, I guess.

The best part? The waitress was smiling at me in a very genuine way. I doubt the server smiled when this lady in a big group of tourists said, with much frustration in her voice, "I WANT A HAMBURGER, WITH CHEEEEESE."

In Spanish, that's hamburguesa con queso. Maybe try a little harder next time. Also, calm down. It's not their fault you don't speak Spanish.

"Latin Time"

Telling the story of any trip to Central America probably requires a mention of this infamous concept. John and I were discussing it last night and I think it's pretty straightforward.

Nothing is urgent.

No, really.  Nothing.

There is no bus schedule; you just go to the stop and wait until the next bus comes.

If the taxi driver says he'll be there in 20 minutes, he means at least 40.

Your entrees do not come out at the same time, ever. If you ask for more water, the server will stop to flirt with the bartender before she brings it. Once you've finished your meal you intend to linger for as long as possible and therefore the server will not bring you your check. Or ask you if you want another beer (if you do you'll let her know, right?)

When you invite the very generous person who's letting you stay in his house over for dinner, he will accidentally fall asleep and then call you several hours later to apologize and reschedule.

It's actually not as annoying as it might seem. If I had to stay home for three days, waiting for a utility company rep to come by my house, as our aforementioned generous host had to do, I would probably end up annoyed.

For the most part, though, it just means we get to slow down and enjoy the fact that nothing is urgent. 

Really.

* * * * * * *

Oh yeah, don't forget to check out John's blog, Have VIM, Will Travel. He's more detail-oriented and technical than me (more detail-oriented than me?? whoa) so his first post details the steps he took to become a "digital nomad!" Very informative, and it features my favorite photo of him here in Panama ;)

El Valle de Anton

Some of you are probably wondering why it's taken me so long to post again. And so I am forced to ask my poor, neglected readers:

Would you rather look at this:

Or this?

Or perhaps this:

Or my personal favorite:

But to get on with the blogging - 

El Valle is a very different beast than Panama City

In Panama (what the locals call their capital city), we didn't take any photographs outside of major tourist sites, mostly out of a desire not to attract any more attention to ourselves than two large, pale members of an alien race would inevitably attract.

It was only partly for the sake of not flashing our expensive electronics. The place is probably no more dangerous than, say, Philadelphia. You avoid certain areas, other areas you just keep your head up and eyes open. But really, we like to pretend we're not tourists and carrying a camera doesn't help the mental image we have of ourselves.

Frankly, though, I hated living in Philadelphia. Great place to visit; never want to live there again.

People in El Valle smile at us.

Of course, as we pass folks on the road they are careful not to make eye contact. But as soon as we say "buenas!" their faces warm right up and they smile and return the greeting.

I think this says more about how travelers tend to interact with the locals than anything about the locals themselves.

In a way, the best part about being in El Valle is the hospitality of the owner of our hostel, Esteban. It's like we had an instant amigo, someone to converse with us and tell us about the area. He laughs a lot, which is always nice, and his English is better than the majority of Panamanians. 

Esteban is great, and it doesn't hurt that the public area of the hostel is exactly what we need it to be: shady with a great breeze, tropical landscaping, tables for me and hammocks for John. 

And orchids! They grow wild here, though this is probably a cultivar
(removing from the forest is actually a big problem).

We spent two nights here last month, and we liked it so much that we're back for two weeks. If you find yourself in the area and looking for a decent price for decent, basic digs, I definitely recommend it: Hostal Cariguana,  hostalcariguana.galeon.com. If you don't speak Spanish, call the third phone number listed on the Contact page.

Starting to sound like Esteban paid me to say this. Maybe I should ask for a discount.

Who doesn't love laughing parrots?

The town

is tiny. Awesome change of pace after the city. Everything is within walking distance of everything else. Maybe three miles long by two miles wide. And the best part?

It's nestled within the ancient walls of an extinct volcano

Hopefully extinct.

And so the other evening we accidentally hiked to the top of a mountain. We were aiming for a waterfall, but it's pretty hard to navigate when your map sucks. 

That's the satellite view.
(Thank you for not suing me over this screenshot, Google Maps.
I promise I won't make any money from this blog post.)

 We started with walking up a crazy steep dirt road

Don't worry, this wasn't the steep part.

A view.

We managed to meet a couple of Michiganians (?) while trudging our way up, and one man of undisclosed origin who told us about the secret path to the top.

John is the star of my pictorial story; otherwise you'd be looking at
a bunch of photos I took of myself hiking up a mountain. Ha, yeah right.

The path was pretty treacherous, studded with volcanic rock.

The barnacles of the earth. Don't trip.

The views were getting pretty good so we pressed on, keeping careful watch of the sun as it crept toward sunset.

Only the blowing of the wind and the crunch of grit under our feet.

All this used to be tropical forest.

We were rewarded for our efforts, though:

Alas, the light was leaving us and it was a long walk home, so we started back without traversing the ridge to the very end. 

This adventure has no end date, though, so we felt good about our decision.

Plus we nearly killed ourselves anyway, stumbling and sliding down that dirt road.