Un Hombre en Santiago

Mid-Semester Break: Peru

2009-11-07T08:42:00.000-08:00

The program has reached its halfway point and five friends and I celebrated in Peru. We first flew into Lima only because it was much cheaper to fly into Lima, rather than Cuzco. Somehow a day or two before we embarked for Peru, we found reasonably priced one-way flights to Cuzco from Lima. However, the flight didn't depart until 5:45 am and we got into Lima a little after 1 (maybe later, it is all so hazy now).

By the time we got into Cuzco I was so disoriented and culture shocked. While in the Lima airport, I felt as if I was still in Santiago. It's modern, it's international, it's big... not much variation there. But Cuzco's airport looked like a dumpy bus terminal. It was tiny too! We had cabbies and Sacred Valley/Machu Picchu tour promoters pull us gringos every which way and with your typical airport hustle and bustle, I just wanted the hell out.

I was happy when we found a hostel and when I put my bag down. Because we planned to do a lot of moving around on this trip, we all brought large backpacks for our clothes and such. It was a bit of a nuisance because it was such a giant backpack. I had to fit eight days of things in my bag, plus souvenirs (couldn't resist). The hostel that we decided on was kind of a shit hole, but none of us minded. So what if they were going to put us in a room without a lock on the door? I mean, WE WERE ONLY IN PERU! My other two friends that were also in Cusco at the same time as us were going to stay at the hostel we stayed at, but they would've had to stay in the room with the pad-locked door. I didn't blame them for going elsewhere. They probably got hot showers too, which was not included in our hostel.

That aside, Cusco is a lovely city with towering churches and historical architecture. A good number of the buildings in Cusco still have traces of Inka craftmanship as the stones that line the bottom half of buildings were from previous buildings before Spanish colonization. Well, that was very nice of them.

The next day was Sacred Valley, a big area outside of Cuzco with tons of different ruin sites. We had to book a tour with an agency and I am not too sure if we got any kind of deal or not. I loved it though. I don't know what else we could have done in Cuzco that could be any cooler. We were supposed to go to four ruin sites, but the spring days in Cusco don't seem to last as long as they do here in Santiago. The ruins of Pisac were awesome. So vast and well planned out. Little things from their irrigation systems to their perfect 90 degree angles on EVERYTHING are really amazing. Once again, bravo! There were other ruin sites, but I think Pisac was the most impressive.

Machu Picchu was everything that it was talked up to me. We were there all day and we didn't see everything. Ugh. For the last hour at Machu Picchu while we were looking for our friend Austin, there was this really obnoxious guy (American) who was jumping from ruin to ruin like it was a playground. I mean, he didn't do any damage, but it was this principle. He was such a jackass. When the other tourists called him out on his wrongdoings, he was such a smartass. In his crackling voice, "What, am I gonna ruin the ruins?!" No asshole, but you are in one of the most precious places on earth and you obviously don't have as much respect as the others. Actually, I was told that the administrators of M.P. may close it for good in the next few years.

Lake Titikaka was the highlight of my Peru trip. If you aren't familiar with the lake, it is set in both Peru and Bolivia and it's massive! It is the highest lake in the entire world also. The altitude is so high, travelers advise you to prepare for the altitude in Cusco, which is a little bit lower than the lake. One of the girls on the trip got really bad altitude sickness and she stayed on the boat for the majority of the trip.

When we arrived, we really didn't know what to expect. All we really wanted to do was rent kayaks and take in its beauty. That didn't happen. Instead, we did a two day, one night tour. We booked it at a hostel in Puno, which we found out later was a sex motel. What kind of hostel allows travelers to rent out a room for an hour and take showers? I didn't realize that it was a sex motel until my roommate Lena told me about the clientele that strolled in during our brief stay. Yea... a little unnerving to think that I napped on a bed in a sex motel. Oh, Peru.

The tour that we found was fantastic! 20 dollars per person and just the boat trips from island to island was worth the money. The coolest part of the trip was staying with the native family. I got to practice my spanish and get as close as possible to their culture.

The last few days were spent in Lima floating from vender to vender. However, I still don't know how we made it there. One piece of advice to anyone traveling in Peru. Be wary of the buses. If a bus says it takes 19 hours to get somewhere, it will probably take 26 like ours did from Puno to Lima. Yea.... if you do decide to take a bus bring something that will keep you occupied and bring water and your own food.

(Pathway on an island in Lake Titikaka)

(Pretty sure you've seen this before, but I am proud that I took this photo)

(Pisac=great)

(feeding the llamas at a farm we stopped at during the Sacred Valley tour)

Monumento Natural El Morado

2009-10-08T11:57:00.000-07:00

My weekend at El Morado, a national park here in Chile that is about 2 1/2 hours east. Just on the other side of the Andes was Argentina. I swear, I will share pictures of Argentina when I make it there. But with all this natural beauty, I don't need anyplace else.

Where you see the group and I walking is where we set up a tent to sleep in for the night. It was so cold! Next time I decide to camp in the Andes, I'm bringing a thicker sleeping bag. Maybe it was the tent that we had brought with us. It was Swiss.... It had to have also been the most complicated tent to put together...ever. I'm just happy that we were able to camp where we did because technically no one is allowed to camp within the park. Isn't that absurd? The man who we paid to enter the park said that camping has been prohibited for 2 years at El Morado. Oh, well. We did.

There was supposed to be this gorgeous lake at the end of the hike we went on, but the elements got in the way - the snow was too high and the wind was too strong. Half way through the hike, we had to follow footprints in the snow to guide us in the right direction. However, I don't even know if we ever were. How typical... lost in Chile. Story of my life.

*All photos by Anna Frisk

Gay March Takes Over the City

2009-09-28T08:52:00.001-07:00

While my roommates were drinking and dining in Mendoza, Argentina this weekend, I needed to find some things to do while in Santiago. Friday was a pretty quiet night for me. Went to my first ballet and it was fantastic! I have been bragging about it all weekend. Not because it was so great, but because it was insanely cheap and they gave out free cookies and NesCafé. Yeah, say what you want about NesCafé, but I was pleasantly surprised to have to offered to me free of charge.

Saturday afternoon was quite eventful. There was a massive gay pride/march/congregation that began at Plaza Italia (Santiago's Time Square) is about a 1o minute walk from my apartment. I was told by a friend that this event on Saturday wasn't even Santiago's official Gay Pride, but with the turnout of Santiaguinos and foreigners like myself, you couldn't help but think that it was. There were thousands of attendees, drags and trucks-turned-floats galore! Some of the drags walking about were so scantily dressed that I can't even post the pictures that I took of them. Blogger might kick me off.

Snapped this one in front of the Universidad de Chile theater where I saw the ballet.

Other protesters came out to voice their stances on the death penalty and other issues hot in Chile.

There is this scandal in Santiago right now that Chile's first woman to win a Nobel Piece Prize is a lesbian. It's on the cover of every major news publication this week with headlines like, 'Gabriela era una Lesbiana!' This kinda stuff doesn't seem like a big deal to my American readers, but it is eyebrow raising news in this conservative nation.

Gabby & her supposed mistress. Thanks, Google for the image!

How We Spent Independence Day: Pichilemu, Chile

2009-09-24T17:33:00.000-07:00

Pastel de Choclo (CHILEAN CORN & MEAT PIE)

2009-09-20T16:42:00.000-07:00

We see this dish everywhere in Chile - even at the grocery store in the frozen food aisle. Somehow I have not managed to order it when I go out, but every time I see people gorging their faces with it, I wish I was doing the same. Overall, I haven't really had too much luck with the food here. So tonight, I'm staying in with the roommates and we're making this mystery dish that Chileans seem to love. Prep time is about an hour and you need a blender or some kind of food processor. Enjoy!

Recipe

Excursion One: Pomaire and Isla Negra

2009-09-11T17:40:00.000-07:00

It's been a pretty long week of mundane activity here in Santiago. I haven't really been engaging with the city's offering because I have been battling this on again, off again, stomach flu. After lunch with my new Australian friend, I was supposed to go to the doctor on Monday. However, I chose not to go because I got lazy. Maybe I should have gone because the rest of the week was terrible. Every time I would eat anything, I would start to get this nasty bloat in my lower abdomen and become extremely listless. I think I napped everyday after school this week. Normal? I don't think so. I have never really had stomach problems in the past. In addition, this week I have been trying to hold off on the excessive wine consumption (very difficult to do in Chile). By Thursday, I had enough of being a boring homebody so I decided to have a few drinks of wine with the intention of going out. It made me feel so much better! Who would've thought wine would cure stomach aches?

My program took its first day excursion today. It was a two-destination excursion to Pomaire and Isla Negra. Pomaire was our first stop. We were only there for a few hours, but because Pomaire is such a small town, a few hours is all you need. It is a pottery mecca! It was impossible to go into a shop without seeing something made of clay. One of the most popular artifacts was the three-legged pig, which is supposed to bring you good luck. There was also heaps of ornate jewelry too. I don't know how I didn't buy anything while in Pomaire. Oh wait, I did by some bowls for the apartment because I accidently broke some a few days ago while putting them away in the cabinet. But nothing for me or anyone. The people were fantastic! So friendly and curious just like Santiaguinos. I managed to get a few pictures of the locals.

Our next stop was this small coastal town called Isla Negra (Black Island). I didn't really do too much research on the town before I went, but last night before we left for the excursion I was told it wasn't an island. So sad. However, it is coastal and we did get to enjoy the breeze from the Pacific. Its main claim to fame is its inhabitants. Well, a former inhabitant, in particular. The poet Pablo Neruda once lived in this gigantic beachfront home and we had the opportunity to explore it! He also has a house somewhere here in Santiago, but this home is his most well-known. The house looks like an Applebee's with how much shit is on the walls. There were some thematic rooms like a seashell room near the back entrance to his home, but most of what was found in the remainder of his house was a large mixture of artifacts he collected on his travels. I didn't get to take any photos of the interior, but I sneaked a snap of his sailboat that is displayed on his back patio.

Had some bad food today (which is a common occurrence here in Chile) so I am sipping on Chile's finest vino tinto. Staying in tonight because today is the anniversary of the start of the vicious coup d' etat led by Pinochet back in 1973. My poet-neighbor friend told me that it is a day where protestors all over Chile come to its capital to let its government know why it sucks. There are known to be a few random acts of violence and I don't want any part of it.

Goooaaaalllll!!

2009-09-05T12:32:00.000-07:00

Everybody knows that South Americans go nuts for soccer and now that the World Cup is approaching, things are going to get a little interesting, especially here in Santiago. It's Venezuela vs. Chile and the game is to take place TONIGHT. It's going to run fairly late, so don't think that I will be able to muster up enough energy to see the final score. I will just have to look on-line for the results in the morning. My roommates and I wanted to try and see if we can buy some nosebleed tickets from a scalper, but she started feeling sick this afternoon and I got sleepy.

It has been a pretty lazy day here at the apartment. Last night ran a little late because we threw a party at our apartment for all of the students in the USAC program and some people I have met while living in my apartment. After the party got too big, we all shuffled out of the apartment to go out for drinking and dancing in Bellavista. Bellavista is just over the Mapocho River across from the Bellas Artes Museum or as I like to call it, my front lawn: Parque Forestal.

The most lively street in the neighborhood of Bellavista is Pio Nono. It is about six or seven blocks of funky bars, dive bars, discos and dancehalls. There's always something to do and it isn't hard to find cheap drinks and food. After days where I would visit San Cristobal, the big hill of Santiago with the virgin on its peak, I would have to walk down Pio Nono and during traditional happy hour time, I noticed that the bars would attract a lot of young locals.

I ended up going to this club called Tunnel, but it isn't located in Bellavista. My roommates tried to drag me over the river while we deliberated in the house, but my neighbor in my apartment suggested Tunnel, so I went. I had a good time! However, it felt like I was at a club back in the States, but the music was a bit outdated - not too far behind, to give it credit. Though next time I am going to search harder for a more authentic discoteca.

Taking Advantage of the Kitchen

2009-08-31T17:53:00.000-07:00

I will admit, I have never really cooked anything special in my day. I can do the basics like boil pasta, toast a bagel, make grilled cheese, you know, easy stuff. Occasionally, I can make decent pancakes. However, I usually use the batter from the box. Cooking is difficult, time consuming, and it can be expensive if you don't shop around.

But since I have money from the Gilman scholarship (thank you) and a decent propane fueled stove in my apartment's kitchen, I really want to test my cooking capabilities when I can. My roommate Anna and I have been having fun scoping out the downtown area looking for cheap supermarkets near our apartment. Last night, my roommate Anna and I made a lo pobro for dinner. We were inspired by a menu item from a local fast food restaurant we spotted close by. I forget the name of the restaurant, but most of the food offered came wrapped in a bun (white bread, thank you) and loaded with guacamole and mayonnaise. Yeah, it is as appetizing as it sounds. However, this a lo pobro meal stuck out to me. It is pretty simple: french fries and a sunny side up egg.

After making a lo pobro, I realized that my oven cooks things very poorly. It is a gas stove and to ignite the fire, you need to light it with a match or lighter. I've heard horror stories about gas stoves and I didn't want to have my own to tell. Cooking on a gas stove is frightening! The fire that heats the food is only on the top of the oven. Therefore, it burns things easily, like the fries I made for the a lo pobro.

After our not so delectable dinner, we made terremoto for desert. It is apparently a popular drink in Chile. Like a lo pobro, it requires two ingredients: white wine (preferably from Chile to make it truly Chilean). Unlike in the States, you can find pineapple ice cream anywhere. While Anna and I were shopping, we asked a random Chilean what type of white to use for the drink and he pointed out almost every type. Was he an alcoholic? Who knows... but we decided on this really sweet white wine. Rhin. You know it? I didn't. I think that's why we bought it. I put three scoops of the ice cream into a normal sized glass of wine, but the taste of the wine was so strong. If you just took a swig with the froth of the ice cream, the pineapple taste was hard to notice. I thought it was best to eat it with a spoon. Maybe sometime soon I will order it at a local bar to see if there is a certain mixing technique that we didn't do.

A Poem by Pablo Neruda

2009-08-22T18:57:00.000-07:00

Lovesick Chilean poet. Enjoy!

A Dog Has Died

by Pablo Neruda

My dog has died.
I buried him in the garden
next to a rusted old machine.

Some day I'll join him right there,
but now he's gone with his shaggy coat,
his bad manners and his cold nose,
and I, the materialist, who never believed
in any promised heaven in the sky
for any human being,
I believe in a heaven I'll never enter.
Yes, I believe in a heaven for all dogdom
where my dog waits for my arrival
waving his fan-like tail in friendship.

Ai, I'll not speak of sadness here on earth,
of having lost a companion
who was never servile.
His friendship for me, like that of a porcupine
withholding its authority,
was the friendship of a star, aloof,
with no more intimacy than was called for,
with no exaggerations:
he never climbed all over my clothes
filling me full of his hair or his mange,
he never rubbed up against my knee
like other dogs obsessed with sex.

No, my dog used to gaze at me,
paying me the attention I need,
the attention required
to make a vain person like me understand
that, being a dog, he was wasting time,
but, with those eyes so much purer than mine,
he'd keep on gazing at me
with a look that reserved for me alone
all his sweet and shaggy life,
always near me, never troubling me,
and asking nothing.

Ai, how many times have I envied his tail
as we walked together on the shores of the sea
in the lonely winter of Isla Negra
where the wintering birds filled the sky
and my hairy dog was jumping about
full of the voltage of the sea's movement:
my wandering dog, sniffing away
with his golden tail held high,
face to face with the ocean's spray.

Joyful, joyful, joyful,
as only dogs know how to be happy
with only the autonomy
of their shameless spirit.

There are no good-byes for my dog who has died,
and we don't now and never did lie to each other.

So now he's gone and I buried him,
and that's all there is to it.

Seafood's Got You Going Crazy

2009-08-22T17:42:00.001-07:00

As the days go on (now day three in Santiago), I am getting more settled in. However, I realized last night that my apartment complex is wild on the weekends. All I heard from 1 am until 4:30 am were Spanish power ballads and opera music blaring. At one point in the night I got scared because I thought the television may have powered on or something. The noise was too loud to be coming from another apartment, but it was.

I purchased a sim card for a cell phone I brought down with me and it should be working by sometime tomorrow. After I went to Claro, a cell phone provider in Latin America, I went to el Centro Mercado, a huuuge fish market filled with cheap seafood restaurants. When walking down the long corridor of the market, you see all kinds of fish that you would never see in America. Chile is the second biggest exporter of salmon in the world. Although, in the past year or so, the fishing industry has been hit hard by a major salmon virus and according to environmentalist and biologist, the fishermen are to blame for the crowded breeding of the fish. They are also catching flack for contaminating the water. I haven't had salmon, but don't think I won't. I mean, it's famous.

What's so great about living in Chile (from a consumer's perspective) is that it embraces capitalism to the fullest. This feature of the country's philosophy on business was really noticeable at the fish market. At the end of the series of fish market stands, you run into a cluster of seafood restaurants that are all pretty comparable with what they all offer. That means low prices : ).

LUNCH

soda

cup of soup

fried fish with a side of rice

licor de menta after lunch shot (serves as a dinner mint, if you will)

TOTAL BILL 2000 pesos (equivalent to 4$)

Also, in Chile, it is customary to tip only 10%

Mi Departamento!

2009-08-21T13:38:00.000-07:00

A Gringo From Now Until Forever

2009-08-20T13:52:00.000-07:00

Jesus Christ Almighty, I am finally in Chile where I am wrapped up in a fleece blanket I found folded in my new bedroom. Now that I have time to mull over the series of events that have occurred today, laying low in the living room seems to be the greatest decision.

After enduring a thirteen and half hour travel from Newark Liberty Airport to Miami and then to Santiago, I thought god would take it easy on me by the time I landed. Not quite. Customs wasn't too bad. However, it was the precursor of me later hating myself for not being great at speaking Spanish. All I had asked was "Where can I catch a taxi?" What do I get from the woman behind the bullet proof glass who speaks through a microphone? "ekgberge drgeg fdgtsg grgrgwkjret erjgeng, I speak Chilean so you are not allowed to understand me ewfjkefwkfnwerf dfegfer." Needless to say, I was on my own.

Man, coming to Miami from Newark was great, despite the plane being delayed for about an hour. I was seated next to a self-proclaimed 'Gordaita' (a fat little lady, I am guessing) who was on a trip to meet her boyfriend. Her story about her and her man friend, also fat, 'gordoito' (as she called him) was some Hispanic storybook shit. Both from Puerto Rico, met when they were like 15 or something and dated until he somehow knocked another girl up (she left out the messy details of that affair). Now, that was more than twenty years ago and she said when a man knocked another woman up back then, the two were pressured to elope, or as Maggie liked to put it, have a shotgun wedding. With that said, Maggie and her gordoito were finished, but only temporarily. The woman who he knocked up ended up dying! She didn't say what caused the woman's death because to Maggie, the woman didn't seem to really matter and who wouldn't feel resentment from a person who takes somebody you love away? After gordoito's kid(s) grew up, the two got back together and are moving to Puerto Rico when Maggie figures out when she will retire.

But no, that wasn't even the good part about the flight. Maggie and Primi, this hot little Peruvian lady, let me speak Spanish to them the whole way down there. They said my Spanish was good, but I could see right through them. They were liars. I knew I wasn't good. I'm terrible, actually. But at least I could comprehend a good amount of what they were saying, unlike the woman at the custom's desk in Chile.

At Santiago's airport and maybe in other parts of Chile, the cabs are called 'radio taxis' and they charge a flat rate to get you into the city's center or wherever in the city, really. From the airport to Santiago's center is about a 25-30 minute cab ride (without traffic on the highway). It only cost me 13,000 pesos (equivalent to 25$) to go to my apartment. If you were to take a taxi from Midtown Manhattan to La Guardia in Queens (about 30 miles), it would run you at least 50$. I could've also taken a shuttle bus, which would've been only under 5$. They also took my American currency too! I needed to get rid of it anyway.

I almost wished that we would've hit traffic on the highway because when the cabby dropped me off in front of my apartment, I waited over an hour for this person who I had only corresponded with via e-mails. A girl I am living with found an ad on craigslist for an apartment in Santiago and this is how I got into this situation. While waiting, this man in my apartment complex named Jorge came outside and insisted that I keep my bags in his apartment while I waited for this internet figure to appear and let me in. Tempting, I wanted to just go inside and make conversation with whoever might be in the apartment, but with the lesson taught to me by my mother of never go home with a stranger and my fear of being in a different hemisphere with no phone, all my valuables, and not knowing the language too well, I opted out. Will I ever accept the fact that Chileans are intrinsically helpful, inviting and polite like Jorge or will I always be wary of these valley dwellers?

He left the option open for me to call on him if I was to need any assistance. "Knock on the window if you need anything," said Jorge. I didn't want help. I just wanted to see this elusive internet person. So I waited, smoked a cigarette, shuffled my luggage around, smoked another cigarette, had a staring contest with a homeless man (who won because I got scared), and then got called a gringo by a group of Chilean teenagers. "Hola, gringo, como estai?" I read somewhere that non Hispanics shouldn't take offense to the term gringo in Chile, but I was pissed nevertheless. Finally, I called on Jorge. "Jorge! Puedes usar tu telefonia?" He came out immediately, but with no phone. Instead, he took me down a block to get me some change to make a phone call on a pay phone. To no surprise, I didn't get an answer.

Next we went to a cellphone provider store. The name eludes me right now, but they were no help for me. In my checked-bag I brought with me two old cell phones that hold sim cards. I found out today that not all sim cards are the same.

*Tip numero 1*

Don't think that your cell phone with a sim card will conveniently work with a sim card provided by a Chilean phone provider.

At this point, I think Jorge and I were both very confused. He was probably thinking, "Who is this American boy and why can't he figure out his shit?" and me on the other hand, I was thinking, "Why did fall for such a scam? Don't I know that just about everything ostensibly decent on Craigslist is a hoax?" Both of us not really knowing what to do at this point, we just decided to go back to the apartment building and wait.

When we get to the front of the apartment, the internet figure is there waiting. I was confused because this internet figure was not who I thought it would be because this internet person's name was supposed to be Fernando and this was a lady and her daughter. I didn't mind the confusion because I would much rather be consumed with confusion rather than fear.

When it comes time to sign the contract, fear and confusion combine and make atom bombs in my mind. It's like three pages of long Spanish words I have never seen before and I just couldn't sign something I couldn't read. She was empathetic about it and said she would have a translated copy tomorrow for me.

I knew that I was to pay 540,000 pesos for this half of August's rent and the last month of December in cash, but I forgot to go to the ATM before she came. By this point, the woman, her daughter and I were becoming very friendly with each other. I asked if they could help me find and ATM and they agreed. Before I arrived to Santiago I called my banks and told them of my travel plans.

*tip numero dos*

Always notify your banks before travel. Otherwise, they will most likely suspend your credit and debit cards for suspected fraudulent charges.

Walking on my street, Santo Domingo, we ask a local where the closest ATM is. She shows us how to get there and then off we went to the ATM. "Invalid transaction"? Nah, this ATM is broken and part of some weird credit union or something. Let's go to a bigger bank - "Invalid transaction" it says once again. We walked around the center for two hours trying to find an ATM that would allow me to withdraw money. Nothing.

In between all of our boiling points from being rejected over and over, I got to know two new people a little bit better. Hey, and when you are alone on a different continent with nobody to count on, I'll take companionship from anyone. I felt safe with them too, despite the mother asking me if I had ever smoked marijuana. She also asked me if I would like to go over to her house tomorrow for dinner. Maybe a good gift to bring with me would be my rent money. I called my bank and for some reason, they put a hold on my card. Idiots.

*Tip numero tres*

Always notify your banks before travel twice.

When I got back to the apartment building, all that I wanted to do was shower and inspect my new surroundings. No. My day continued to be inconveniently consistent with bombardment. This one's name was Francois, the landlord. He's an older French man with cartoonish features (very friendly though) who liked to talk your ear off. Somehow in a matter of five minutes, we got on the subject of Pinochet, a previous dictator of Chile in the '70s that stirred up a lot of political issues within the country. As we were chatting it up, he started telling me about the cameras in the building's lobby - that gave me comfort. Then suddenly, Francois switched gears and told me that my apartment needs new locks. What?! He mentioned that the room above me had two locks on the door like mine and somebody broke into it and stole 3 million pesos. Tomorrow I think I should call up a lock company or whatever to get an extra deadbolt.

Another man walked into the apartment and I could tell he just wanted to get away from Francois. His name is Jason. Jason is American like me and after I was through with talking to Francois, he asked me to come up to his apartment to get the number for the lock company. He lives higher up in the complex than I do, so he has a much better view of the city and the mountain top. He took me out onto his terrace and poured me a drink of precio especial, a brandy drink that also has fermented grapes added into it. It wasn't bad! I had it with Coke.

He told me about his story of moving to Santiago and it was pretty unreal. On a visit to Santiago with his girlfriend three years ago, he spent only one week here to decide that he wanted to live here permanently. With his Carolinian accent, "I called my mom and said, 'Mom, ship my things to me because I'm not comin' back." He helps run a culture weekly magazine that is on-line based - Revolver Magazine. I'm going to check it out often because it is in both Spanish and English. He also told me about this other more established English newspaper called The Santiago Times. I am going to hunt for it tomorrow! I hope this week was as good as Jason's first week, but I am not too sure I will, the weather is looking bad.