The coolest thing about my life, is that I have the most amazing, awesome & adventurous friends! And that opens up a whole world of opportunity for some really fun vacations in the life your average dental hygienist. When Megan Tschopp moved to Chile last year, I eagerly jumped up and down and promised to come visit her while she was there! Whether she really believed I would come or not, this past December, I made it happen! I've always loved traveling and seeing new sights, and for some reason I've always felt the strongest draw to South America. So when my friend had a great career opportunity in Chile, I just knew that this was the perfect chance for me to finally get to my travel on!
So this fall, I updated my passport (a task that was long overdue) and I booked my tickets, and Megan planned a fantastic vacation.
December 18th 2012, I was en route from Denver to Santiago. I didn't want to go into this journey completely ignorant of my surroundings and culture, so I did a little research on the country, culture, and made an earnest attempt at learning Spanish. I was a bit nervous, as I knew it would be a bit of a challenge maneuvering around a foreign country alone, but I was confident! Afterall, I travel solo all the time, and so do my friends! If they can do it, I can do it! I have good street smarts and sense of direction. I mean, once I got into the country all I really had to do was find my way to the bus station from the airport, buy a ticket to Talca, and be on my merry way to Megan's apartment. And if I had anything going for me, it would be that I would "blend in" and not completely look like a tourist. Little did I know that that very fact would also be my greatest opposition....people looked at me and expected me to know better...to know Spanish....to know the rules. But it was a scary and rude awakening when in fact, I was clueless to all of the above. Yet I remained positive! Really, how hard could it be? I was about to find out.
My flight from Denver to Dallas was as usual as it gets. I had a beer to relax for the long night ahead, and studied from my Spanish book. My 9 hour flight from Dallas to Santiago was as good as could be. I sat next to the sweetest Chilean woman named Katy (pronounced Kah-tee, not Katie). Katy was an older woman who I characterized as a sort of "great-aunt". She was so kind and we talked a lot about our lives. She and her husband were missionaries for their church, and traveled all over the world together. She was very impressed with the fact that I was traveling alone in Chile without really knowing the language. After our flight landed, she walked me to the immigration line, gave me quick instructions on what to do, and slipped $4Mil (Chilean) into my hand. She kissed me on the forehead, wished me luck, and told me to give the money to someone if I needed to borrow their cell phone to call Megan. Haha wish I would have gotten my picture with her.
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| Just landed in Santiago!! |
As I continued my walk through the immigration and customs line (2.5 hours) I became increasingly discouraged. First of all, I was not very happy to learn that Chile charges Americans $160 just to come into the country! An expense that I was not planning on, but just as well. I paid my visa fee and kept my cool as I waited, waited, waited. It seemed like the local people I talked to were not very impressed that I was traveling alone, without really knowing the language. Instead of being encouraged and hearing "Oh, well, just get to the bus stop and you'll be fine!" The locals made a point to tell me that the people in Santiago were not the friendliest, and they wished me luck with a look of pity on their face. But I was still confident. Once I made it through to the other side, all I had to do was take the shuttle to the main bus terminal, and say, "Quiero ir a Talca en el proximo bus". I could do it. When I finally made it to the front of the immigration line, a very pregnant and annoyed woman asked me, "Meeyameeohdallah?" I stared wide eyed at her, having NO idea what she just said to me! She repeated, "Meeyameeohdallah???" And again as my tired and confused brain was frantically trying to decipher what she had just asked me, I stared blankly at her as I could feel the sweat prickle and my face turning bright red. After a couple seconds of her becoming increasingly annoyed with this brown-skinned gringa, she very clearly raised her voice and said, "Miami? or Dallas?" Asking which international airport I was coming from." I hastily blurted out 'Dallas' as she slammed the ink stamper onto my passport. At that moment, it was clear that I really was in for it. After
finally making it through immigration, customs and the currency exchange office, I was immediately bombarded by taxi drivers. Much different than here in the US, they all congregate inside the airport and follow you asking to ride with them. I kept saying, "no gracias!" I was searching for a payphone to call Megan, as I had NO cell service there! (I was told by Verizon before I left, that I would still have roaming service which would cost an arm and a leg, but that was just not the case. At that point, I would have gladly paid
two arms and a leg to just be able to use my phone to get ahold of my friend!) I found a payphone and pulled out my slip of paper with the phone number. I was still being followed by one of the taxi drivers. I tried to get away from him to have a bit of privacy, but he took the paper out of my hand, put a couple of pesos in the machine (all I had was paper money!) and dialed Megan's phone number for me. He waited next to me with a smile the whole time. As soon as Megan answered, I felt a huge surge of relief and of course, also came the tears! haha. She asked me if I was okay, and all I could choke out was, "yes, I'm okay I just needed to hear your voice!" The time on the payphone was running out, but I managed to get out that I was off to find the bus terminal. She was mid sentence when the time ran out. Well, this is it! Time to figure my shit out! The taxi man was still smiling at me, and urging me to come with him. He spoke not a word of English, and at that point, all I could manage was a very weak "Por favor, quiero ir a terminal principal de buses." He smiled at me and grabbed my bags; I wiped my eyes and we were hastily walking out into the fresh Santiago rain. The next thing I know, I'm in the front seat of a little black car, and trusting in this human being with every ounce of faith that I have, that as we are weaving in and out of crazy traffic, that he is taking me where I need to go, and not to some sketchy dark alley where my liver and kidney's will soon be cut out to be sold on the black market. My fears were relieved when I noticed the photo of his twelve year old daughter hanging in his car, and the Holy Bible in the passenger side door pocket. I began to relax and try to pay attention to what he was telling me. His name was Carlos, and I told him "Tengo un Tio Carlos." He smiled at me and said in broken English, "Carlos is Charlie!" He rambled on the whole way to the bus station and I tried to keep up while taking in the sights of this foreign city. I introduced myself and tried to explain that I was from Estados Unidos, and on vacation for 2 weeks. He has lived in Santiago his whole life and talked about his family. We both tried our hardest to communicate and understand each other, and we shared a mutual smile and moment of silence when we both had no idea what the other was trying to say. I do love, that regardless of language barriers, when strangers speak to one another and don't really know what to say, you can always talk about the weather. We talked about the rain (lluvia), and he explained that this time of year, rain is pretty uncommon. The main thing I learned from him was basically to never say, "Estoy caliente" when referring to being hot from the weather. Instead, "Tengo hace calor", because saying "estoy caliente" is a very sexual term. I laughed and thanked him for the advice. And 15 minutes later, I made it safe and sound to the bus station. The taxi fare was veinti-cinco mil. I had no idea yet what the currency rate was, so I handed him treinta mil and told him to keep the rest as a tip. I was hoping it was enough....and then I found later that I paid the man a little over $60 and tips are not expected like they are here in the US. I just made that man's week. But I would gladly do it again, as he was the first friendly person that helped me out in my moment of need and panic! He sent me off with a kiss on each cheek, and a "Chau, chau!" (a phrase that would quickly become my very favorite phrase).
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| Santiago --> Talca |
Alas, the bus station: the moment I had been prepping for. I successfully managed to purchase a ticket to Talca (a three hour bus ride for a fraction of the price of the taxi), call Megan to let her know I'd be leaving Santiago in about 10 minutes, and make in onto the right bus. And I'd somehow managed to do the whole exchange en Espanol. Of course most of you know that I do not know Spanish at all, but it really is incredible what you're capable of when thrown to the sharks. You either sink or swim, and I was not about to sink. I was seated next to a very sweet 76 year old man named Juan Orlando. He is a civil engineer, and he spoke English very well! He was really excited to talk to me, because he loves every opportunity to practice his English. We chatted back and forth for about 2 hours (he in English, me in very choppy Spanish). He gave me Spanish lessons, and I diligently scribbled in my trusty little notepad. He told me all about his life, and that even though he is old, he loves his work so he commutes every week from Santiago to Chillan just to have that sense of accomplishment and contribution to society. I really admired him. But I was so exhausted after being up for over 24 hours at this point. He told me to sleep, and he woke me about 10 minutes before the bus arrived in Talca. As I left, he sent me off with a kiss and a "Chau, Hija!"
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| This little notepad became my treasure. |
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| Terminal de bus |
Much to my delight, my sweet friend Megan was there waiting for me with a big grin and a Super8 candybar in hand. I think I would have cried at the sight of her, but I think by that point I was still bewildered and delirious from that morning's events, that I was too tired to do anything but give her a hug. Never again will I take for granted the comfort of a familiar and friendly face. So reunited with my friend, at last! I was safe and sound, and ready for my first South American adventure to begin....
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| Never have I been so happy to see this face! Love you Megan! |
Bienvenido A Talca!!!! I made it.
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| Talca, Chile |
I ordered my usual Americano. This was a time where I learned a very great lesson..... My beautiful espresso and water arrived, and I should have just enjoyed the hot beverage as it was served to me. But I was over confident in asking as best as I could, if it would be possible to have some cream or milk to add. Well, the poor waitress did not understand my request and was clearly upset as she took away my drink and returned a few moments later with a cafe con leche, or a latte as we know them. I felt horrible! And I soon learned, that it is not common to drink coffee with cream or milk as it is here in the US. And from that point forward, cafe con leche, was my drink of choice. After I had settled up with the bill, I was out for round 2.
So we shopped around a bit longer, and later on found a great little outdoor pub. Megan, Stephina, and I enjoyed a couple good beers and we shared a completo. Completos are very common in Chile, and you can order them almost anywhere! It's basically a hotdog smothered in mayonnaise and guacamole! It was definitely something I would never order, but it was surprisingly quite good! After all, it was Dec. 21, and the end of the world, so why not go out with a completo?
We finished up our beers and said our goodbye's to both Stephina and Talca, then Megan and I grabbed our bags and were ready for the next part of our adventure to begin! We had tickets for the 9:30pm bus out of Talca to Puerto Montt, where we would meet up with another friend, Andrea the next morning. We made it to the bus station just in time! We found our seats, and were horrified to discover that we were in the very back of the bus next to the banos, and worse, next to a gang of disgusting, filthy, smelly, and obnoxiously rude men. It was a looooooooong 12 hours. We were finally able to fall asleep amidst the cat calls and the offending smells of the toilet and feet of our neighbors. But it was a rough start to the morning as I was trying my hardest not to vomit from the hot stench and motion sickness. But right on schedule, we arrived in Puerto Montt and were welcomed by Andrea... and sheets of rain.
