Coffee with Legs: my trip to Chile!

Aviso: this is more or less a play-by-play of last week and will potentially bore you to tears... but there are nice pictures included?

Even before I got to Argentina, I knew I wanted to visit Chile at some point in the semester. I mean, it's not too far and there's just this little thing called la cordillera de los Andes separating the two countries!!

Crossing the Andes

But really, it's a quick flight (or a mere 20-hour bus ride if you're crazy into that sort of thing) to the capital city of Santiago, where we spent our first two nights.

We hadn't really planned much about our trip in advance, but despite my usual Type-A inclinations I was content with making up an itinerary as we went (muchas gracias to TripAdvisor and the hostel staff). Yeah, I know, I don't recognize myself anymore either.

I have to admit that Santiago is WAY prettier than I expected. It doesn't hurt that you can see mountains in every direction, plus there's also a lot of greenery, beautiful architecture, and less tall buildings than Buenos Aires (which means more open sky). We were #blessed with gorgeous weather throughout our whole stay which also contributed to the city's overall appeal.

The first day we wandered around our part of the city and visited La Moneda, the presidential palace.

Turns out it's the site of a lot of drama: controversial president Allende committed suicide in the palace during the 1973 US-supported coup d'état that left Pinochet in power. (Shoutout to tour guide Franco and also Wikipedia for the abbreviated history lesson).  

Then we walked up cerro Santa Lucia, a little hill right in the middle of the busy city streets with a nice view at the top.

Afterwards we were all tired and overheated so naturally we decided to search out some hydrating and refreshing... ¿café con leche? Anyway, we thought it'd be easy to find a place in the area since there's a cute café on every corner in Buenos Aires; oddly enough, we came across very few coffee shops and most of them only had standing tables. Increasingly confused but also increasingly desperate for our coffee fix, we finally stopped in a "Café Haiti" that had a few metal tables and stools. We were immediately approached by one of several scantily clad waitresses on a catwalk who hastily took our order (the only options: black coffee or coffee with milk). We were all slightly uncomfortable with the vibes of the place, and Kasey joked that it was either an undercover prostitution ring or just the Chilean version of Hooters. But, on the bright side, we got free chocolate treats with our drinks!

On our walking tour of the city the next day, our suspicions were más o menos confirmed... Apparently, we had stumbled into a branch of the prevalent café con piernas business, or "coffee with legs." Since Chile does not traditionally have great coffee, the concept came about as a way to grow the coffee-drinking population. The strategy: attract/distract (male) clients with a risqué style of service so they pay less attention to the quality of their beverage. In the 90s, some businesses decided to take it a little further by implementing a "happy minute"-- a 60-second surprise striptease by the waitresses that happens at a different time every day. Gracias a Dios we did not have to witness that! We also learned that free sweets are included with women's orders (in an effort to appease them?)... So that was interesante.

Our fantastic 3.5-hour (free!!) walking tour with my new boyfriend the wonderful Franco not only taught us the aforementioned fascinating tidbits, but also showed us various sites of interest throughout the city. We saw this fountain that Germany gifted to Chile (putting the US' gift of a puny bust of Lincoln to shame):

And this building shaped like a cell phone:

Then we visited the eclectic home of Nobel-prize-winning poet Pablo Neruda. They gave us devices to listen to a commentary as we walked through the house's different rooms and, being the committed students we are, we obviously chose the Spanish setting for the recording. Throughout the tour I noticed Natalie's confused expression, but I assumed she was just having trouble keeping up with the history like I was. (About all that I picked up on was that he designed the residence to resemble a ship, because he was simultaneously enamored of and terrified by the ocean. And he lived there with his lover-turned-wife Matilde.) About halfway through, Nat asked us about the meaning of a word that kept repeating in the narration but no one had any idea what she was referring to... A few minutes later we realized she and Kasey had been given devices set to Portuguese! (After writing this I'm getting the impression that it was a "you had to be there" sort of thing... but I assure you it was comical.)

Part of the garden La Chascona

Feeling quite ambitious, we decided to go ahead and tackle another item on our Santiago bucket list- el cerro San Cristobal. But we didn't feel quite ambitious enough to make the long hike to the top so we opted for the tram ride instead. Somebody commented that they didn't feel like we deserved the amazing view since we didn't work for it but I would personally never hike if there was always a tram option  definitely don't share that same sense of guilt... What really matters is that we saw this:

and chilled with the Virgin Mary:

As we were contemplating if we wanted to walk down or take the tram again (Me: "I really don't mind paying for the tram ride, it'll save us a lot of time/energy!" Everyone else: "Yeah, I don't care either way..." Decision: "Great let's walk then!!"), a man approached us and yelled, "YANQUIS, GO HOME!" Such an outright expression of disdain left us more confused than anything, so we I just kinda nervously laughed as he walked away... 

After what turned out to be a surprisingly pleasant descent, during which we saw this:

we found ourselves on the other side of the mountain, a.k.a. super far from our hostel. Nonetheless, the map made the trip look pretty easily walkable (spoiler alert: it wasn't). 

And that's the story of how, according to the pedometer app, we walked 15 (yes, FIFTEEN!) miles in one day. 

The next morning Casey, Rachel, and I took the bus 2 hours to the artsy coastal city of Valparaíso. We checked into our adorable hostel:

and started exploring the area in search of (what else?) food. The surrounding area was absolutely preciosa, pretty much just how I had imagined Valparaíso from how others have described it. The city is almost entirely formed of hills (there's a joke that the women of Valpo have the best legs in Chile), so there are several ascensores to make it a little easier. We definitely let our tourist show when we collectively squealed every time the elevator jolted to a start...

Cerro Alegre  

Something about the exhaustion of the last couple days compelled us to treat ourselves to a luxurious (read: pricey) lunch at a country-club like restaurant overlooking the water. I went for the authentic ceviche and a raspberry daiquiri ("da-keeeee-ri"). In terms of ambiente, I'd say it was one of the most enjoyable meals de mi vida. 

Daiquiri not pictured

It just so happened that the weekend we spent in Valpo coincided with El Carnaval de los Mil Tambores, a highly-anticipated annual drum festival. Even though we had to leave town before the real festivities (involving painted bodies & crazy parades), we could definitely feel the excitement building (like when we witnessed an impromptu drum circle/rave break out in the middle of a plaza in the wee hours). And we did get to see a little bit of the weekend's programming- a drum class in the park:

I can't believe I almost forgot to mention that we also visited what is supuestamente one of the 25 best heladerías in the world. With such big hype I was expecting something increíble... Don't get me wrong, it was tasty, but I've had better (*cough cough* The Parlour).

Emporio La Rosa

That night we went out with some kids from the Middlebury program in Valpo and tried our first terremotos, the authentic Chilean drink consisting of sweet wine and pineapple ice cream. That's right, the country's famous beverage involves ice cream. Need I say more? 

It was a fun night until we saw a little confrontation between some rowdy youths and the police (glass bottles were thrown and police batons were wielded). Apparently that sort of thing is pretty common, and there's just generally a lot of tension between the younger population and the authorities, some of it related to the college students' movement to demand education reform (which means the exchange students there have a LOT of classes canceled #celosa). 

The following day we took the bus to the neighboring beach town of Viña del Mar where we once again did what we do best- eat/walk around/repeat. Despite the freezing wind it was a lovely way to spend the day!

We went back to Santiago the next day in order to visit El museo de la memoria, which we had heard was a "must" for anyone spending time in the city. I've been learning about the dictatorship in Argentina in my independent study of Argentine cinema, but I'm still really confused about a lot of aspects of the history... Thus, this museum, overflowing with information about the Chilean dictatorship, was a bit overwhelming. Nonetheless, the exhibits are really well put together and even though I might not have understood all the complicated details of the period, I was profoundly affected by the representations of the atrocities that took place. In the case of both Argentina and Chile, the memory of these horrors is still very fresh, which is a really interesting dynamic to confront as a foreigner.

It's a little awkward to transition from such a serious topic, but now it's time to talk more about (drumroll, please), la comida! I haven't eaten much seafood at all during my time in Buenos Aires, so I took the opportunity to indulge during this trip (it was less of a conscious decision than a reaction to the fact that the restaurants we went to had very limited non-seafood offerings). I had my first sushi in months, a delicious dinner of tilapia with lentils, shrimp quesadillas... I could go on but I'm making myself hungry. Though I didn't have a chance to try the infamous chorrillana or mote con huesillo, I did enjoy the traditional dishes of  pastel de jaiba (pretty much a giant portion of crab dip, a.k.a. living the dream) and then, at the Santiago fish market, a giant steaming cauldron of caldillo de congrio (eel stew):

It came out of the kitchen still boiling, and had huge chunks of eel (still on the bone) as well as potatoes, carrots, and spices. Fun fact: Pablo Neruda was so obsessed with this dish he wrote a poem about it. 

After the fish market we ventured to the fruit/vegetable market a flew blocks away. It quickly became evident that our collective decision to sport jean shorts/sundresses was highly questionable. Although we're accustomed to the daily whistles as we walk through the streets of Buenos Aires, we encountered a whole new level of objectification... Upon entering the market we noticed that we were attracting even more stares than usual, and then all of the sudden the building erupted in applause. Directed at us. It was both/either hilarious and/or horrible, I still haven't decided. Nonetheless, we resolved to go ahead with our shopping endeavor, so we passed through the vendors' stands (I bought a delicious Peruvian dessert) and pretended not to notice the men literally bowing at our feet and discussing their preferences between us ("Prefiero la rubia"//"I prefer the blonde") as we went by. Such a weird experience, but throughout my travels I've learned to take that sort of thing with a grain of salt. 

Also. This pie:

That is all.

The best day

This Saturday was quite possibly my favorite day of my time here so far. Like, I was literally smiling at least 80% of my waking hours (and, given my tendency to laugh in my sleep, probably of my non-waking hours too).

Several weeks ago my host parents had mentioned a country music festival that was coming up in San Pedro, a small city about 2 hours outside of the capital. Due to improving but still-rocky communication between us (ya know, that whole language thing), I only realized about a week ago that they were referring to a plan that included me... Once I finally put it together they wanted myself and a friend to join them, I still had no idea what to expect (so obviamente I invited Natalie, who's always game for ambiguous but potentially fun activities).

The car ride was surprisingly enjoyable, complete with ham and cheese finger sandwiches and hot coffee (¡en serio!). Oddly enough, at moments I had the sensation that I was sitting in the back seat of Daddy Bill's Cadillac, since the smell of our recently-applied sunscreen and the voice of Johnny Cash (host dad's CD of choice) filled the car.

By the time we got to the park, the festival was already in full swing (like people were actually swing-dancing slash doing some sort of line dancing that wasn't quite salsa but also not quite square dancing...). As soon as we found a spot in the middle of the (seated/non-dancing) crowd I felt like I had been transported back to home sweet North Carolina. We were surrounded by plaid-shirt wearin', cowboy-hat-sportin', beer-drinkin' Argentines (plus some hipsters and normal-ish families mixed in). Though some of the music was a sort of unfamiliar Latino bluegrass, I actually recognized the majority of the songs! The bands covered classics like "Landslide," "Jolene," and "Act Naturally" (I'll admit I didn't know the title of that last one, but it's part of one of my favorite movie scenes of all time), all in endearingly accented English. AND in the breaks between acts the speakers blasted current hits that I'm pretty sure no one besides me had ever heard before...

We spent the afternoon singing along, browsing the booths of the mini-feria, walking by the lake, and of course snacking like there was no tomorrow (Lili & Gus treated us to dulce de leche churros and torta frita!). Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, a gospel ensemble took the stage and, in my opinion, stole the show.

That's right, TWO Remember the Titans connections in one day. 

(p.s. "Me and Bertier's mama went out on the town last night!") 

The funniest mix of old (my high school best friend, Nat) and new (my lovely stand-in parents), of familiar (the music I grew up listening to) and unfamiliar (every other foreign-country-related aspect) made for the most wonderful of days! Who would've thought I'd find a little taste of "the South" in the middle of South America?

~*gR@Ff!Ti*~

As much as I love a good old-fashioned art museum, there's something about the grittier, vibrant expression of graffiti that really intrigues me. (I guess you can't take the Durham out of the girl?) Since it's legal to paint on (most) buildings here, graffiti is en todas partes. This past weekend we took a private tour through San Telmo, BA's oldest barrio, to see some of the best street art in the city. 

This is either really deep or she's just reacting to the smell of the garbage can... 

{Not to be confused with my current prof pic!}

Our fantastic guide, Rick! (The one at the bottom, not the one on the balcony, FYI) 

What's a "comfort zone"?

There I was- politely sipping my Fernet & Coke, eating my weight in mediocre potato chips, and attempting to conceal my general confusion by laughing along to someone's animated story. "I should probably stay in and work on my essay," I had told my host mom when she asked me if I planned to accept my invitation to her son's housewarming party that night. She chuckled when I immediately inquired if she and her husband would be going as well, "¡No no es para los jóvenes!" Then, "¡Una horita, no más!" she added convincingly. So off I went, accompanied by my Colombian housemate Alejandra, to a fiesta that proved to be quite inolvidable.
My thirty-something host brother had assured me that it would be a low-key night, which it was until Ale and the other Colombians in attendance decided that the only thing missing was some serious salsa dancing. They put on a YouTube video and started moving their bodies in ways that rivaled the cast of SYTYCD. "This is great!" I thought with relief, "Everyone will turn their attention to the dancers and I can continue nomming on chips without having to socialize too much!" But before I knew it I was dragged onto the living room "dance floor" to bailar with them. Though my clumsy attempt at salsa was far from my Step Up fantasies, my new friends very graciously abstained from laughing (too much) at my inability to circle my hips correctly, and I had a new tutor for every song. (And oh yeah, the hour my host mom had promised transformed into like three...)
Although I can safely say that it was simultaneously the most humiliating/uncomfortable/hilarious experience I've had so far this semester, I have to admit that I'm proud of myself for leaving the comfort of my room that Friday night and semi-successfully interacting with a room full of strangers. Not to mention the fact that they came to the consensus that my dancing wasn't all that bad for a gringa!

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After almost 2 months (¡¿cómo es posible?!) I really feel accustomed to life here. I'm used to dogs without leashes and their poop on the sidewalks. I hardly even notice the comments from men as I walk by (though I do find it comical that I tend to receive the most compliments when I look the most unattractive). It doesn't surprise or even bother me when I show up to class and it's been canceled without notice. It doesn't seem weird that people smoke in the hallways of the university. I realize that a waiter will not acknowledge my existence in the time between bringing me my food and when I request the check (which involves signaling wildly with my arms to get his attention). I know I'll probably never allow enough time for traveling from one place to another, and I've accepted that the colectivo is almost always the most unreliable at the most inconvenient times. Though each of these things annoyed me at one point, I'm learning to embrace the porteño lifestyle and approach my days with a more go-with-the-flow attitude.

Además, I think I'm about to surpass the longest amount of time I've ever gone without seeing a single member of my family (hint hint come visit me), but I'm grateful to have a routine that gives my days just enough consistency to feel settled. From my daily breakfast of frosted flakes with yogur liquido and café con leche, to my slow-paced planning and fast-paced teaching periods at Centro Conviven, to Sunday night pizza dinners/game show watching with my host family, there's the perfect amount of predictability/stability in my life.

BUT (as very evident in my salsa story) that's not to say I'm not having new/exciting/sometimes scary adventures! Two weekends ago our group traveled to the beautiful city of Mendoza. After a 16 hour bus ride we dropped our bags at the hostel and went straight to a bike tour of the vineyards. Though the gravely (Creeper-Trail-like) road we rode along between bodegas made for a slightly painful journey, the wine samples once we arrived at each stop more than made up for it!
Later that day we went on a city tour. At one point we ascended a hill with a monument and to my horror our surprise encountered a monkey that had escaped from the zoo, who proceeded to approach our group and snatch the banana out of my friend Shweta's hand. So yeah that was terrifying (maybe just for me personally, but I mean how is it OK that animals are escaping from the zoo and running wild through the city and attacking tourists?!) cool! The following day we went trekking, which basically means hiking but there's no path/the incline is really steep/it's hard to breathe/your legs burn/etc. Contrary to popular belief, I am not necessarily the outdoorsy type (I had you all fooled, right?!), so this was a struggle but not altogether unpleasant. That is, until the descent. The slippery rocks/lack of path/light rain meant I more or less fell down the mountain, so by the time we got to the rappel portion I wasn't even daunted. After that we spent the afternoon eating and relaxing in the thermal pools (natural hot tubs); this was obviously my preferred vacation scene.
Unfortunately I fell ill the next day, so I had to take it easy the rest of the trip (though it was challenging to convince the haters [mom] that my sickness was not a scheme to avoid the rafting excursion). Having survived the bus ride back despite extreme stomach issues, I can now say that the trip was un éxito overall. 

Which of these things does not belong?

Yep folks, that's yours truly on the right. 

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Despite spending hours on my first academic evaluation of the semester (essays about Cristobal Colón and Bernal Díaz del Castillo-- woo hoo!), this past weekend had its fair share of fun as well! Obviously the house party was on Friday night, and then on Saturday I went out to lunch with friends to a restaurant that was participating in BA Food Week. This means we paid a flat rate of like 15 bucks for a three course gourmet meal (see below)- MUY rico!

1. Fish tempura

2. Rice + seafood teriyaki

3. Apple crumble with vanilla ice cream

On Sunday Sarah, Rachel, and I attended mass in Recoleta. Since Rachel and I had only ever been to una misa once in our lives (in Panama and Spain, respectively), we deferred to Sarah, the only Catholic among us, for cues on the logistics of the liturgy. Though the service was quite the departure from the CityWell style of things, I enjoyed hearing familiar verses and messages. I also felt pretty impressive when I was able to recite the Padre Nuestro from memory. (But I left the church with a mysterious craving for Bruegger's Bagels?)

That's about all I've got, but I'll leave you with a fun fact: apparently the current pope used to live right down the street from my homestay! My host mom started making fun of the tourists who take pictures by his house just as I was formulating my own plan for a selfie...

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p.s. huge shoutout to Mry for the sweetest letter that came a couple weeks ago! xoxo