Santiago

Previous to touching down in Santiago, Chile, I (Nate) had been flying around the east coast doing interviews for professor-type positions in Vermont and North Carolina. The interviewing had been a bit nerve-wracking, and my anxieties and thoughts often kept me awake through the quiet hours of the night. One solace was being able to talk to Jess, and prattle on about events and hopes and dilemmas. Each time we spoke, the conversation concluded with, “See you in Santiago” because it sounded so silly and dramatic and kinda romantic, like something long-separated lovers might say in a old black and white movie. It was also true: we were flying separately to Chile and meeting in Santiago. Jess from Salt Lake via Atlanta, and me from Miami after touring Vermont. She would arrive a day earlier, and let me know of her accommodations via an email.



On the afternoon of the 16th, our proclamation came true when she poked her little head out of the second story window of the hostel I stood in front of. We were in Santiago, together, and on our way to a neat little vacation in Chile.



We had given ourselves about 24 hours in the capital city before flying south. Not much time, of course, to see a large city (6 million; about 1/3 of Chile’s gente), but it was enough time to get a sense of the place. We walked through the city center, up on a hill to see an old castle, and through the bustling downtown area. Stray dogs ran about the sidewalks, competing for territory, or a bit of empanada dropped by a passerby in a business suit. Business suits abound; downtown Santiago is full of well-groomed people walking from one place to another, checking watches while being important.

A couple other things about Santiago: the man-mullet is hot, and public groping is all the rage. Chileans love to cuddle in public, and everywhere we went folks were gettin' frisky with one another. Everyone in the parks were coupled off on benches, tables, or a patch of grass, and rapped in some sort of embrace. Jess and I were a bit surprised, but, well, when in Rome…

That evening we had dinner in Barrio Brasil, a somewhat hip neighborhood with a hoppin’ nightlife. Jess fell in love with her dinner, a sandwich called a Chacararo, and made such a big deal out of it that the waiter ended up showing her the kitchen and how the sandwich was prepped.


Afterwards, sitting in the open air on the rooftop of the 3-story hostel, we played some sort of drinking game with dice and a large bottle of Escudo (not a particularly good beer) and watched the nightlife below. Tomorrow we’d go to Punta Arenas, and experience another bit of Chile, a much rainier and grayer bit.