This is Chile

I had the opportunity to wind my way out of the smog-settled city to the mountains that always sit there in the background like a painting. I drove up into el Cajon del Maipo (Maipo is a river that tumbles and turns its way from the high Andes close by). Two guys that i met at a climbing store drove me up. I shall just say that the trad climbing that we did was not half as dangerous as Armandos driving skills. We screamed along the river valley, winding our way on narrow roads at 90-100km/h and passing lines of cars on tight corners.

As I am sure is true for most urban centres in the world, Santiagos downtown core could be any big city, although it has its own flavour and peculiarities, it is nonetheless an aglomeration of large buildings, small buildings, an almost perfect grid of one-way streets wandered each day with purpose by working chileans (both blue-collar workers and government/corporate officials). Chile has the strongest economy in Latin America as well as probably the highest standard of living. However as we distanced ourselves from the centre of what the tourist sees and the image of a developed Chile that is exported to the masses I found along the road delapitated ramshackle homesteads, frames with tediously affixed corrugated metal roofs and walls, whole families sitting by a fire that burned in their open home. All seemed to have a trade of sorts, that is they sell something to the public whether it be food or crafts, but the only thing that is certain for them, it seems, is that nothing is certain.
I fear I have been too melodramatic: this is not Bangkok slums by any stretch but it does show a side of the country, a decidedly bitter alternative to the apparently very "developed" nation (I am well aware of the baggage that this term carries but I will use it nonetheless!)

In other news two nights ago I went with six Brasilian girls to a salsa bar closeby: they all have rhythm in their blood and so did everyone at the bar. I have taken a few salsa lessons in my day but the prospect of leading, that is throwing a girl around in front of a few hundred sultry sweating dancers, brought me to a standstill, a cold sweat. But eventually I said to myself that there was nothing to lose - so I danced... for hours... I was not the greatest but my claim to fame was that I did not stand out and I did not step on anybody.

All of my Brasilian friends have left now, as well as a few Australians that I had gotten close to...that is to say that a wave has come and almost gone at the Hostel as well as in my own trajectory, my own adventure. So tomorrow I shall leave by bus for Reserva Nacional Altos de Lircay about 5 hours south of Santiago. There I plan to trek for two weeks in the Andes - I just need to buy gas for my stove (which surprisingly I cannot find). Later I will head to my first small organic farm on Dec 8 to work for two weeks with the Spanish family in the foothills of the Andes.

My climbing experience as well as a free classical piano concert I went to in Plaza de Armas (the main, Europeanesque, leafy central square) have I think rounded off my stay here in Santiago and I feel ready to leave.

Until next time...