This past Friday I travelled to the city of Puerto Montt again, marking the second time I've left Chiloe Island since I've come here. The English Opens Doors program had a regional meeting for all the Americans (and one Canadian) working in the Los Lagos region. After lunch, a meeting where we discussed living and working conditions, and a few beers afterwards, we decided to go out to the touristy town of Puerto Varas for the night. Two weeks ago I met Julio, the new co-regional coordinator for our region, and he told me I could stay with him whenever in Puerto Montt. So that's exactly what I did this weekend. We went to his uncle's place after the meeting, to change and eat before going out to Puerto Varas. While standing outside his house, Julio asked if I spoke any other languages. Literally as the two of us were talking about how I was raised speaking Polish, his neighbor comes outside and Julio tells me he's Polish. Now, there were plenty of Germans and Poles that immigrated to Chile and Argentina around WWII, so I figured this guy was like second generation Polish. However, it turns out he moved to Puerto Montt about 7 years ago after leaving Poland about 15 years ago and travelling around Germany and Italy for a few years. He's from Wroclaw and we chatted briefly in Polish. Hopefully next time I come through I can join him for drinks (obviously vodka).
Later we went out to Puerto Varas where we met some chill Californians traveling to Chile on vacation. It was definitely nice to be in a group of a dozen Americans or so, bullshitting about Bin Laden's death, the NBA playoffs, the NFL lockout, etc. However, I was also reminded how freaking expensive bars in touristy towns can be, and how much I hate being in a large loud obnoxious group of gringos abroad. Mostly because it reminds me I'm a loud, obnoxious gringo. Great night overall though, and afterward we headed back to Julio's house. I was dead tired by 3 and looking forward to sleeping. However, his two cousins and their five friends had other plans. We stayed up for another two or three hours drinking liter bottles of cheap beer. The kids, all in their late teens/early 20s, kept asking me what the hell I was doing in Puerto Montt, insisting on cooking traditional dishes for me in the future, and reminding me that their home was mine. Saturday we took the bus to Julio's parents' home, which is conveniently located between Puerto Montt and Castro, only minutes away from the shore where the ferry crosses to the island.
There I spent Saturday and Sunday morning eating, riding a horse, eating, sightseeing, and eating some more. Homemade bread, honey, marmalade, cheese and eggs from the farm. His house is in a rural area marked with dirt roads, small, cozy homes, and lots of livestock. His brother let me ride one of his horses, and I rode it over to a neighbor's house where we bought a giant wheel of cheese, from a giant shack in back of her house full of them. Julio's family has a small store attached to their house that they run as their main source of income. It's a very quiet, slow-moving, and calm lifestyle around those parts, as it is on most of Chiloe Island as well. I've found that even at my home, right outside the capital city of Castro, life is still much less hectic. That may be because our "big city" of Castro is the only city on the island with traffic lights, and our "suburb" of Llau-Llao has dirt roads and farms with bulls and chickens. But I'll get more into general observation about Chilean life in the next post. Point is that the weekend was great, and the bus ride back to Castro was amazing because it was the first time I made the trip in daytime with clear, sunny weather. Thus, I really got to see the whole island in a new light. Again, general descriptions of the place will be in the next post.
Yesterday, Tuesday, I spent the day getting my temporary residence visa and applying for my temporary state ID. Lots of lines, pointless questions (when registering my visa with the police so they're aware of my presence here, why does anybody need to know if I finished college or not?), bureaucratic red tape, and other garbage. Basically, like the DMV only more Chilean. For instance, to apply for my Chilean id card not only did I have to register my new visa with the police (which makes sense, I guess), but I also had to get fingerprinted -- all. ten. fingers.-- and make a photocopy of every page in my passport that had a visa stamp. Why in the hell would the Chilean government have to have on record the fact that I was in London for a weekend two years ago? Once all said was said and done, it still wasn't quite done. I have to wait three freakin weeks for the card to be ready to pick up. Now, I don't need the ID right away and I'm not trying to say yesterday was a shit day. The fact is that everyday while living here is a day that I'm living abroad, eating delicious things and traveling, and I also got to take the day off work (work which is also awesome and not really work). I just don't comprehend how renewing my license in the States took all of 45 minutes, and this takes three weeks. I realize I'm not a citizen here, but when the DMV shows you off, you probably need to rethink your game plan a little bit. Either way, the day also led to lunch with the two co-regional coordinators for the EOD program. Julio I've mentioned above. Rocio is equally nice and amazing, and has been dating for several years a former program participant from New Hampshire, so hopefully I'll have someone to watch the NBA finals with next time I'm in Puerto Montt. Though I've met Mike and we've gone out together both of my times in Puerto Montt, both times we've made plans for the following night to watch his Celtics play, and both times it hasn't worked out. Who knows, maybe next time I'm in P.M. the Bulls will be playing in the Finals, though I ain't holding my breath.
-PM
No comments:
Post a Comment