¡Hola Amigos !
While I'm on the topic of rediculous ad campaigns, I thought I'd mention another. Down here, Duracell has decidedly poached the Energizer bunny. In all seriousness, Duracell has T.V. commercials with a bunny that outlasts all the other bunnies. It just kills me. The thing is, the Duracell bunny can actually DO stuff! Remember how the Energizer bunny just bangs a drum and spins in circles? None of that. This new Duracell bunny rock climbs, skateboards, goes shopping and all sorts of other things. While the other little pink bunnies get tired and fall down, Duracell just dances on.
Duracell dura más. Mucho más.
ya me voy
Andrius
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Monday, August 28, 2006
Do you know the Muffin Man?
¡Hola amigos!
Chile runs on propane. Unlike the U.S., however, the infrastructure can't support pipelines to transport the stuff to each house. Instead, propane is sold in gigantic returnable tanks (for the calefont and the stove) and cute little ones (for space heaters and grills). Side note: water heaters and central heaing are nonexistant in Chile. Instead of a water heater, each house has a calefont which heats the water as it is used. Our calefont is located outside, near the kitchen door. Every time someone showers, or runs the dishwasher, or wants hot water to shave with, he/she has to walk outside and light the calefont with a match. It actually works quite well, the only downfall being that the temperature of the shower is inversely proportional to the temperature of said shower. If the water pressure is too high the calefont can't keep up and the shower is cold. If the water pressure is too low the temperature is scalding. End side note. Anyway, the companies that sell propane have a lot more competition here than in the states and are subsequently more interesting.
One company, called Lipigas, has commercials that feature the "Rapperos" (get it? rapping perros?). Anyway it's these dogs that wear bling and sing and dance and sit in bubble baths between two poodles wearing pink lace--pretty much the most rediculous ad campaign imaginable. And that's just the TV campaign for one company.
A more popular and cost effective marketing strategy is to drive up all the streets and sell door to door. They don't actually knock on each door, but each company has a signature noise that lets you know when the truck is on your street. For example, the drivers of Lipigas beat out a signature rhythm on the tanks. Without a doubt, however, the prize winner in this category is Abastible. The executives of this company decided that the most effective method of appealing to the consumer would be to broadcast an eclectic mixture of american songs in an obnoxious electronic tone. They never play a complete song, instead choosing to transition rapidly so you get more melodies for your money. It's kind of like an ice cream truck from hell. Here's a small sampling.
"It's a Small World"
"Pop! goes the Weasel"
"Row, row, row your boat"
"Deck the Halls"
"London Bridge is Falling Down"
"Yankee Doodle"
"Silent Night"
"Do you know the Muffin Man"
"Jingle Bells"
"...and much more!"
Anyway, they usually cruise up the street at least once every morning sounding their fragmented melodies so I have woken up to "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" more frequently than I care to admit. As an added benefit, and thanks to the Doppler Effect, when the trucks pass the house the whole song drops in pitch and sounds out of tune for a couple seconds. I think Bill Watterson would say "it builds character." Anyway, I have to run. Thanks for tuning in.
ya me voy
Andrius
Chile runs on propane. Unlike the U.S., however, the infrastructure can't support pipelines to transport the stuff to each house. Instead, propane is sold in gigantic returnable tanks (for the calefont and the stove) and cute little ones (for space heaters and grills). Side note: water heaters and central heaing are nonexistant in Chile. Instead of a water heater, each house has a calefont which heats the water as it is used. Our calefont is located outside, near the kitchen door. Every time someone showers, or runs the dishwasher, or wants hot water to shave with, he/she has to walk outside and light the calefont with a match. It actually works quite well, the only downfall being that the temperature of the shower is inversely proportional to the temperature of said shower. If the water pressure is too high the calefont can't keep up and the shower is cold. If the water pressure is too low the temperature is scalding. End side note. Anyway, the companies that sell propane have a lot more competition here than in the states and are subsequently more interesting.
One company, called Lipigas, has commercials that feature the "Rapperos" (get it? rapping perros?). Anyway it's these dogs that wear bling and sing and dance and sit in bubble baths between two poodles wearing pink lace--pretty much the most rediculous ad campaign imaginable. And that's just the TV campaign for one company.
A more popular and cost effective marketing strategy is to drive up all the streets and sell door to door. They don't actually knock on each door, but each company has a signature noise that lets you know when the truck is on your street. For example, the drivers of Lipigas beat out a signature rhythm on the tanks. Without a doubt, however, the prize winner in this category is Abastible. The executives of this company decided that the most effective method of appealing to the consumer would be to broadcast an eclectic mixture of american songs in an obnoxious electronic tone. They never play a complete song, instead choosing to transition rapidly so you get more melodies for your money. It's kind of like an ice cream truck from hell. Here's a small sampling.
"It's a Small World"
"Pop! goes the Weasel"
"Row, row, row your boat"
"Deck the Halls"
"London Bridge is Falling Down"
"Yankee Doodle"
"Silent Night"
"Do you know the Muffin Man"
"Jingle Bells"
"...and much more!"
Anyway, they usually cruise up the street at least once every morning sounding their fragmented melodies so I have woken up to "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" more frequently than I care to admit. As an added benefit, and thanks to the Doppler Effect, when the trucks pass the house the whole song drops in pitch and sounds out of tune for a couple seconds. I think Bill Watterson would say "it builds character." Anyway, I have to run. Thanks for tuning in.
ya me voy
Andrius
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Quintay
¡Hola amigos! So Thursday night I was reading my guidebook and it mentioned a cool beach about 30 minutes south of Valparaíso near a town called Quintay. My guidebook said it was nearly deserted in the winter and well worth the visit. I talked to a couple people about going, and a girl in my program named Amanda agreed to go with me. We met up at the ISA office Friday morning and headed off to catch a colectivo which my trusty guidebook said were available behind the bus station on Calle 12 de Febrero. We found the street and asked a driver where we could catch a colectivo to Quintay. He said there wasn´t one, but offered to drive us there for 40 dollars one way. We said no thanks, (but thought "we may be gringos but we're not morons") and kept looking. Farther up the street we found the colectivo we were looking for, paid our 3 dollars each, and piled in. In case I haven't talked about colectivos, they are a type of "collective taxi" that run a specific route; like a bus for four. In this particular case, however, since the drive is long (30 minutes) the colectivo won't run unless all the seats are filled or someone pays for the empty seats. Turns out when we showed up there were already three people waiting for the colectivo to fill; a grandmother and her grandson, and some guy. So when I say we piled in, I mean we piled in. I sat squeezed in the middle with the grandmother and grandson on one side and Amanda on the other. The drive was very pretty, and we really felt off the beaten track. At times, the road was dirt and very poorly maintained.
The colectivo dropped off the other passengers in the town, but we continued heading toward the ocean. When the colectivo stopped we stepped out of the car and straight into a quaint fishing village in New England. Granted I've never been to New England, but the point is that this could not have felt less like Chile, or the southern hemisphere, or the sprawling city we had left only 30 minutes past. We were standing in a small cove with a small sandy beach bordered by rocky shores on either side. The air was crisp, clean, and salty, and for the first time in a month I felt like I was living within minutes of the ocean. The change from the hustle of Viña and Valparaíso was incredible. Had I been wearing a watch, I would have checked it to see if it was still running. Not that I would have cared; needing to know the time felt like a thing of the distant past. On the beach were 10 or so small fishing boats where bent old fishermen mended their nets or tended to the day's catch. Others simply watched, or talked, or stood in silence watching the waves crash on the beach. Nestled aroud the bay were a handful of restaurants, any of which looked (and smelled) phenomenal.
The place I really wanted to see was a nearby beach called "Playa Chica" which my guidebook said was a 15 minute walk away. We headed up the road and got confused, so we asked a guy for directions and followed his directions up to the carabinero station. A carabinero came out and talked with us briefly, and he pointed us on our way. We passed through a fence onto private property, and into a manicured pine forest. (It was kind of surreal and we couldn't figure out who owned the land or why there were pine trees growing in perfect rows.) A short walk later we came out of the trees and were met with a gorgeous view. The land dropped away beneath us for about 100 feet and below we could see a beautiful rocky shoreline with small patches of sand snuck in between. Large turquoise waves were crashing into the rocks and we could see the spray from our perch. A short scramble down the hill and we were walking along the shoreline of a completely deserted beach. We rock-hopped out onto an outcrop and watched as wave after wave crashed onto the rocks sending spray 30 feet into the air. It was amazing. We walked around for about one hour, and then headed back up the hill. We called a colectivo, paid for the empty seats (we would still be waiting otherwise) and headed back to Valparaíso. I didn't bring my camera, but I will definetly return to Playa Chica, and next time I will take photos.
Hope all is well at home.
ya me voy
Andrius
The colectivo dropped off the other passengers in the town, but we continued heading toward the ocean. When the colectivo stopped we stepped out of the car and straight into a quaint fishing village in New England. Granted I've never been to New England, but the point is that this could not have felt less like Chile, or the southern hemisphere, or the sprawling city we had left only 30 minutes past. We were standing in a small cove with a small sandy beach bordered by rocky shores on either side. The air was crisp, clean, and salty, and for the first time in a month I felt like I was living within minutes of the ocean. The change from the hustle of Viña and Valparaíso was incredible. Had I been wearing a watch, I would have checked it to see if it was still running. Not that I would have cared; needing to know the time felt like a thing of the distant past. On the beach were 10 or so small fishing boats where bent old fishermen mended their nets or tended to the day's catch. Others simply watched, or talked, or stood in silence watching the waves crash on the beach. Nestled aroud the bay were a handful of restaurants, any of which looked (and smelled) phenomenal.
The place I really wanted to see was a nearby beach called "Playa Chica" which my guidebook said was a 15 minute walk away. We headed up the road and got confused, so we asked a guy for directions and followed his directions up to the carabinero station. A carabinero came out and talked with us briefly, and he pointed us on our way. We passed through a fence onto private property, and into a manicured pine forest. (It was kind of surreal and we couldn't figure out who owned the land or why there were pine trees growing in perfect rows.) A short walk later we came out of the trees and were met with a gorgeous view. The land dropped away beneath us for about 100 feet and below we could see a beautiful rocky shoreline with small patches of sand snuck in between. Large turquoise waves were crashing into the rocks and we could see the spray from our perch. A short scramble down the hill and we were walking along the shoreline of a completely deserted beach. We rock-hopped out onto an outcrop and watched as wave after wave crashed onto the rocks sending spray 30 feet into the air. It was amazing. We walked around for about one hour, and then headed back up the hill. We called a colectivo, paid for the empty seats (we would still be waiting otherwise) and headed back to Valparaíso. I didn't bring my camera, but I will definetly return to Playa Chica, and next time I will take photos.
Hope all is well at home.
ya me voy
Andrius
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
¡Partido de Fútbol!
¡Hola amigos! This particular entry is somewhat tardy, but I was waiting on some photos from a friend. It's worth the wait though. I hear that with the current rate of inflation by the year 2010 a picture could be worth almost 2000 words! Whole world's going to hell in a handbasket I tell you, hell in a handbasket.
So Wednesday night was an "optional" excursion to a soccer game at the national stadium in Santiago to watch Chile play Colombia. In reality of course, all of our excursions are "optional" in the sense that you're not required to go; the "optional" moniker simply means that you haven't already paid for it. Therefore it is only optional in the sense that you can "opt out" if you're running low on funds. Regardless I wasn't about to leave South America without going to a soccer game, so I decided to go.
We left from the Casa Central (the main building of the university) at about 5, which meant I had to miss grammar class. Side note: my grammar prof looks like he's got about 2 years on me, and his attitude says "I'm the type of prof you wouldn't mind having a beer with." However, you'd better mind your P's and Q's, because he is a STICKLER for grammatical errors. (You probably could have told me that without ever meeting him, huh?) Side side note: The phrase "mind your P's and Q's" actually comes from "mind your pints and quarts" and therefore is particularly suited to the situation described above. End side note. Either way I got to miss grammar and I was none too sad about it. We piled onto this awesome bus/van/I have no idea what it was that had five rows of seating. One side had a bench for two, the other a seat for one with an aisle down the middle. Attached to the seat for two was a fold down seat so that if the van was completely full there would be 5 rows filled with people and no aisle. In case you're wondering how people are supposed to evacuate in an emergency, the designers of this vehicle are a step ahead of you. If the bus were to crash, all 5 of the people sitting in the aisle would be cleanly ejected straight through the windshield and the rest could proceed in an orderly fashion out of the van through the exit nearest them.
We arrived at the stadium about one hour before the start of the game and parked a block away. Our commotion of gringos (you know, gaggle of geese, herd of deer, murder of ravens...commotion of gringos) passed a vendor selling full-sized Chilean flags for mil pesos (two dollars) and he looked like a kid on Christmas morning when we walked by and bought an even dozen or so. We walked up to the gates of the staduim, they tore our stubs, and we went in. At first estimate I'd say that about 25 percent of the Chilean armed forces were present at this game. We're talking riot gear, armored cars, armored buses, swat teams, carabineros on horses with riot gear (the carabineros, not the horses), and probably more that we didn't see. Also let me mention that this game was the rough equivalent of seeing the Rockies play pre-season and the stadium wasn't nearly full. Chile hasn't beaten Colombia since 1996, although no one told us that till after the game. I can't imagine what security was like pre-World Cup last semester. Anyhow, we took our seats and watched the warm up.
Oh, I forgot. Three or so of the kids in my program got really excited about this whole thing and painted their faces Chilean colors, among other things (see photo). As we were walking up to the stadium, a news crew saw all these gringos freaking decked out and again, looked like kids on Christmas morning. Long story short the three got interviewed on the way in, while sitting, and when leaving. I was in the background a couple times, but I don't know that the footage ever aired.
The game was fun to watch even though it was none too intense. Colombia scored the first goal, and Chile answered back with a penalty kick about 15 minutes later. Tied one-one, the crowd got going a bit, but Colombia scored another goal with about five minutes left in the second. The time was not posted anywhere, so nobody can be sure what time things happened exactly. During the game, the aforementioned (I've always wanted to use that word) painted gringos were screaming wildly and trying to lead the chants...incorrectly. Finally, a kindly gentleman turned around and instructed them as to the correct method. "Look, the leader spells out 'C-H-I', but you've got to do it fast so it sounds like 'chai' and then the crowd repeats. Then the leader yells 'LE' and the crowd repeats. Then everyone yells CHI-LEI ¡Viva Chile!" Finally they got it right, and continued with their antics. Unfortunately we were seated in the "rich old fogey" section and it never really caught on. The only Chilena in our group, our guide Andrea, took to covering her face whenever they started chanting.
All in all it was a fun experience but it certainly lacked the intensity that we were hoping for. The only real excitement came at one point when a fight almost broke out on the field. Nothing came of it except that one fan in the rowdy section lit a road flare that he smuggled in, although nobody seemed to mind. Oh I almost forgot, alcohol is not sold in the stadium. Hope all is well at home.
So Wednesday night was an "optional" excursion to a soccer game at the national stadium in Santiago to watch Chile play Colombia. In reality of course, all of our excursions are "optional" in the sense that you're not required to go; the "optional" moniker simply means that you haven't already paid for it. Therefore it is only optional in the sense that you can "opt out" if you're running low on funds. Regardless I wasn't about to leave South America without going to a soccer game, so I decided to go.
We left from the Casa Central (the main building of the university) at about 5, which meant I had to miss grammar class. Side note: my grammar prof looks like he's got about 2 years on me, and his attitude says "I'm the type of prof you wouldn't mind having a beer with." However, you'd better mind your P's and Q's, because he is a STICKLER for grammatical errors. (You probably could have told me that without ever meeting him, huh?) Side side note: The phrase "mind your P's and Q's" actually comes from "mind your pints and quarts" and therefore is particularly suited to the situation described above. End side note. Either way I got to miss grammar and I was none too sad about it. We piled onto this awesome bus/van/I have no idea what it was that had five rows of seating. One side had a bench for two, the other a seat for one with an aisle down the middle. Attached to the seat for two was a fold down seat so that if the van was completely full there would be 5 rows filled with people and no aisle. In case you're wondering how people are supposed to evacuate in an emergency, the designers of this vehicle are a step ahead of you. If the bus were to crash, all 5 of the people sitting in the aisle would be cleanly ejected straight through the windshield and the rest could proceed in an orderly fashion out of the van through the exit nearest them.
We arrived at the stadium about one hour before the start of the game and parked a block away. Our commotion of gringos (you know, gaggle of geese, herd of deer, murder of ravens...commotion of gringos) passed a vendor selling full-sized Chilean flags for mil pesos (two dollars) and he looked like a kid on Christmas morning when we walked by and bought an even dozen or so. We walked up to the gates of the staduim, they tore our stubs, and we went in. At first estimate I'd say that about 25 percent of the Chilean armed forces were present at this game. We're talking riot gear, armored cars, armored buses, swat teams, carabineros on horses with riot gear (the carabineros, not the horses), and probably more that we didn't see. Also let me mention that this game was the rough equivalent of seeing the Rockies play pre-season and the stadium wasn't nearly full. Chile hasn't beaten Colombia since 1996, although no one told us that till after the game. I can't imagine what security was like pre-World Cup last semester. Anyhow, we took our seats and watched the warm up.
Oh, I forgot. Three or so of the kids in my program got really excited about this whole thing and painted their faces Chilean colors, among other things (see photo). As we were walking up to the stadium, a news crew saw all these gringos freaking decked out and again, looked like kids on Christmas morning. Long story short the three got interviewed on the way in, while sitting, and when leaving. I was in the background a couple times, but I don't know that the footage ever aired.
The game was fun to watch even though it was none too intense. Colombia scored the first goal, and Chile answered back with a penalty kick about 15 minutes later. Tied one-one, the crowd got going a bit, but Colombia scored another goal with about five minutes left in the second. The time was not posted anywhere, so nobody can be sure what time things happened exactly. During the game, the aforementioned (I've always wanted to use that word) painted gringos were screaming wildly and trying to lead the chants...incorrectly. Finally, a kindly gentleman turned around and instructed them as to the correct method. "Look, the leader spells out 'C-H-I', but you've got to do it fast so it sounds like 'chai' and then the crowd repeats. Then the leader yells 'LE' and the crowd repeats. Then everyone yells CHI-LEI ¡Viva Chile!" Finally they got it right, and continued with their antics. Unfortunately we were seated in the "rich old fogey" section and it never really caught on. The only Chilena in our group, our guide Andrea, took to covering her face whenever they started chanting.
All in all it was a fun experience but it certainly lacked the intensity that we were hoping for. The only real excitement came at one point when a fight almost broke out on the field. Nothing came of it except that one fan in the rowdy section lit a road flare that he smuggled in, although nobody seemed to mind. Oh I almost forgot, alcohol is not sold in the stadium. Hope all is well at home.
¡VIVA CHILE!
It's a bird! It's a plane! Its..SuperGringo!
ya me voy
Andrius
Sunday, August 20, 2006
Misspelled
¡Hola amigos! I have just been informed by Francisco, the creator of my chilean name, that the correct spelling is "Andrius." Obviously the pronunciation stays the same. I stand corrected.
ya me voy
Andrius
ya me voy
Andrius
Thursday, August 17, 2006
¿Como te llamas?
¡Hola amigos! When speaking Spanish, it is somewhat of a challenge to slip in a word with an English pronunciation. There's something difficult about switching quickly between a Spanish accent and an English one. For example, it is much more difficult to say "Me llamo Andrew, mucho gusto" than it is to say "Me llamo Andrés, mucho gusto." For this reason I decided when I got to Chile that I would simply go by "Andrés." When in Rome, do as the Romans do, right? (By the way, that phrase translated in Spanish is "Si a Roma fueres, haz como vieres." Just in case you ever get caught doing something unusual in a spanish speaking country and need something to clear the awkward silence.) Of course, things didn't work out exactly as I had planned. Instead of simply introducing myself as "Andrés," I had the Bright Idea of saying, "well my name is Andrew, but I go by Andrés because it's easier to say." This created an interesting situation. Some people saw it as a challenge; if they could pronounce my name in English they had "exceeded my expectations." Others simply called me Andrés. I think the split between the two camps was pretty equally fifty-fifty.
You'd probably like to know where I'm going with this, but just as a reminder by reading this far you have not only learned an undeniably useful phrase in a second language, you have also learned how to introduce yourself in that language, AND you have gotten an informed insight into the inner workings of the human psyche. Not too bad for a minutes work.
Anyway, I have been here one month, and everyone (minus gringos who still call me Andrew) has agreed on what to call me. Fransisco started it, and it has spread like wildfire. The obvious compromise between the two camps was to combine the names. Hence, my Chilean name "Androos." (pronounced kind of like "papoose.")
And long story short, that's why I'll be signing off from here on out as "Androos." Hope all is well at home.
ya me voy
Androos
You'd probably like to know where I'm going with this, but just as a reminder by reading this far you have not only learned an undeniably useful phrase in a second language, you have also learned how to introduce yourself in that language, AND you have gotten an informed insight into the inner workings of the human psyche. Not too bad for a minutes work.
Anyway, I have been here one month, and everyone (minus gringos who still call me Andrew) has agreed on what to call me. Fransisco started it, and it has spread like wildfire. The obvious compromise between the two camps was to combine the names. Hence, my Chilean name "Androos." (pronounced kind of like "papoose.")
And long story short, that's why I'll be signing off from here on out as "Androos." Hope all is well at home.
ya me voy
Androos
Sunday, August 13, 2006
Portillo!
So last weekI found out that most of the ski resorts close in mid-September, and I immediately got the crazy notion that I should arrange a ski trip to Portillo. I had seen a package deal for three days and three nights of skiing, with 4 meals a day, rentals, and andarivales (lifts) included, only for 250 or some rediculous price. Wanting to investigate, I went and talked with Ale, one of the women who directs ISA and also happens to be a travel agent. She made some calls and found out that the hotel at Portillo was full, but that there was room at a hotel in Los Andes, a town 60km from the resort. I thought that sounded good, so I reserved the hotel for Friday and Saturday night (no I wasn't playing hooky mom, we didn't have classes Friday). I sent out an email to various gringos in my program, and ended up with three people who wanted to come: Adam, Kelly, and Jeff. On Thursday we hit our first glitch. Portillo sits on the mountain pass that connects Mendoza, Argentina with Chile. The actual pass itself is PAST Portillo, but if the pass is closed, like it was on Thursday and Friday, buses don't run to Mendoza, and subsequently not past Portillo. Therefore when we tried to buy tickets on Thursday, we were told that maybe a bus would leave Friday, but they weren't sure. "Show up tomorrow at 7:30" they said, "and we'll tell you if a bus is leaving."
We showed up at 7:30 sharp Chilean Standard Time (ten till eight to you folks) and after some wild-goose chasing caught a bus to Los Andes. We had planned to ski Friday, but we hadn´t been able to find a bus all the way to Portillo. Subsequently, by time we arrived in Los Andes, it was too late to ski. Jeff had cut out, so it was just Kelly, Adam and me. The first thing we did after checking in at the hotel was try to find a ride to Portillo in the morning. Unfortunately, we couldn't find anyone to take us before 10:30 am, and we started to get frustrated. Finally, we got a fellow named Raul to pick us up at 7:oo am. We spent the rest of the afternoon strolling Los Andes, and it was very pleasant.
The next morning Raul showed up right on time, and we began our journey. Finally, we were going skiing! About 20km from the resort, we came to a road closure. More accurately, the pass was still closed, but we weren't allowed to go to Portillo either, even though the road was clear. Those of you who have been skiing with me know how frustrated I get when something keeps me from getting an early start. I was going crazy, but I just decided it was part of the experience. By 9:30 they began to let people through to Portillo, but to ensure that no one lied and tried to continue on to Argentina, they were checking for reservations at the hotel as well as chains (even though the road was completely dry), neither of which we had. Auuugh! We had to stop again. By 10 am, after paying 10 bucks to rent chains, we were on our way. We arrived at the resort, rented skiis, bought tickets, put our bags in the gear check, and were on our way.
Fortunately, the skiing was incredible. Portillo is completely different from any resort I have ever skiied. The lodge sits in the middle of a huge valley, with rocky jutting peaks on all sides. The andarivales climb up the mountains from either side of the lodge, and all the runs dump skiers back to the lodge. The resort isn't actually that big, and with a full day to ski, I could have skiied every official run. However, if one is willing to hike, there are a lot of steep chutes and really cool terrain that is virtually untouched due to the nature of the clientele (wealthy, fairweather, prefer the lodge to the lift). I actually found a chute about 20 feet through a gate that was absolutely untouched thigh-deep powder. It was really steep so I made about 5 big jump turns down it, and my tracks are probably still there, completely unmolested. One really cool thing about the resort was the surface lifts. To get higher up on the mountain, there are several poma-style lifts scattered around. However, unlike the standard poma, these lifts can take 5 people at a time, and they BOOK! I swear they go about 15 mph up the hill. We were catching air on the way UP the hill! Unbelieveable.
We knew that we had to quit skiing early to catch a bus back to Los Andes, so we left the slopes at 4 (resort closes at 5), returned our gear, and headed out to the road to flag down a bus. After talking to a resort employee, however, we learned that the last bus down had left about 20 minutes ago. Oops. Just as things started to look bleak, a guy left the parking lot driving a jeep, with three empty seats. I figured "what the heck, why not?" and stuck out my thumb. To my suprise, he stopped and offered a ride. The ride down was probably the highlight of the trip. We chatted the whole way, and he was very friendly. He was trying to learn english, so the whole way, the three gringos spoke spanish and he spoke english. It was a riot. Anyway, he dropped us off at the bus station, refused the money we tried to give him, and went on his way. Obviously at this point our luck had turned, because the bus for Viña left 5 minutes after we arrived at the bus station. whew. All in all, it was an interesting couple of days. We learned to navigate unplanned travel in South America, haggle with stubborn police officers at road closures, hitchike, and most importantly learned not to ski Portillo without reservations at the Hotel (it's the huge yellow thing in the picture, and it's the only thing at the resort).
Road closed.
When we finally made it past the road closure, we figured out why it is so difficult to keep the road open. There are no roads like this in Colorado.
Meet Adam. He's a surfer, from Florida. He also thought it would be a funny joke to buy an 80's one piece ski suit. In the end the joke was on him...he fit in better than either Kelly or me.
Me.
Kelly.
The lodge at Portillo.
Buster 5 man surface lift. ¡Cuidado!
ya me voy
Andrew
Monday, August 07, 2006
Monday
Sorry it's been so long between blogs lately...estoy un poco flojo (I'm a little lazy).
Friday I had one class, and Suprise!, it was canceled. The day wasn't a total waste, though. I worked hard on my travel plans for later in the semseter, among other things.
ISA scheduled excursions both Saturday and Sunday this weekend. On Saturday we visited a museum in Viña del Mar which had everything from bugs to human artifacts to stuffed pumas. Afterwards, we jumped on a micro and headed up the coast to Reñaca, a beach town about 15 minutes away. First let me clarify something. When 20 gringos pile onto a micro, it is quite a scene. For instance usually when I board a micro, I am the only gringo on it. Needless to say, when a Chilean boards a micro to discover that he/she is the only Chilean on it, the facial expression is priceless. Anyway, on the way to Reñaca we stopped at some sand dunes next to the highway. We hiked to the top and walked around, and watched some kids try to sandboard down the dunes. I decided to try my hand at it, so I borrowed a board from one of the boys. It was pretty fun, although the thing didn't have a heelstrap so toeside turns were impossible. The beach at Reñaca was very nice, and since it's winter, the town was quiet and the beach nearly deserted. Apparently during the summer it is very crowded. After Reñaca, we headed farther north to Con-con. The main attraction of this town, for our purposes at least, was cheap horse rentals to ride on the beach. Those of you who know me, which is probably everyone who reads this, will also know that horses and I don't get along very well. Either way, the "horse rental" to "ride on the beach" is more aptly described as "stubborn, swaybacked, burro rental" to "slog around in the mud". I bought a coke instead. The bus ride home along the coast gave us a perfect view of the sunset, and it was indescribably stunning.
I must comment on the fact that Chileans know how to have a good time. Saturday I went out with some cousins of a friend of a friend and we went dancing until 6 in the morning. It was a blast. And that's all I have to say about that.
Sunday was a tour of Valparaìso, specifically the history of the town. We visited the Marine headquarters, and a number of historic sites in the city. Also, we rode two "historic" ascensores made in the 19th century. Now while I never got back on the horse that bucked me (very literally), I did ride both of the ascensores. Our tour guide was Pablo, a history prof at PUCV who I'd say is about 26 years old. He did a great job and all 8 of us that went on the tour had a blast.
Today I had two real classes (meaning I took notes and learned something) both of which were very informative and not boring. Also, we have to read a book in spanish for my writing class, so I'm slogging through Las Adventuras de Tom Sawyer. I picked a kids book because I thought it would be easier, but it took me 1.5 hours to read about 15 pages. Yee-haw. Hope all is well at home.
ya me voy
Andrew
Friday I had one class, and Suprise!, it was canceled. The day wasn't a total waste, though. I worked hard on my travel plans for later in the semseter, among other things.
ISA scheduled excursions both Saturday and Sunday this weekend. On Saturday we visited a museum in Viña del Mar which had everything from bugs to human artifacts to stuffed pumas. Afterwards, we jumped on a micro and headed up the coast to Reñaca, a beach town about 15 minutes away. First let me clarify something. When 20 gringos pile onto a micro, it is quite a scene. For instance usually when I board a micro, I am the only gringo on it. Needless to say, when a Chilean boards a micro to discover that he/she is the only Chilean on it, the facial expression is priceless. Anyway, on the way to Reñaca we stopped at some sand dunes next to the highway. We hiked to the top and walked around, and watched some kids try to sandboard down the dunes. I decided to try my hand at it, so I borrowed a board from one of the boys. It was pretty fun, although the thing didn't have a heelstrap so toeside turns were impossible. The beach at Reñaca was very nice, and since it's winter, the town was quiet and the beach nearly deserted. Apparently during the summer it is very crowded. After Reñaca, we headed farther north to Con-con. The main attraction of this town, for our purposes at least, was cheap horse rentals to ride on the beach. Those of you who know me, which is probably everyone who reads this, will also know that horses and I don't get along very well. Either way, the "horse rental" to "ride on the beach" is more aptly described as "stubborn, swaybacked, burro rental" to "slog around in the mud". I bought a coke instead. The bus ride home along the coast gave us a perfect view of the sunset, and it was indescribably stunning.
I must comment on the fact that Chileans know how to have a good time. Saturday I went out with some cousins of a friend of a friend and we went dancing until 6 in the morning. It was a blast. And that's all I have to say about that.
Sunday was a tour of Valparaìso, specifically the history of the town. We visited the Marine headquarters, and a number of historic sites in the city. Also, we rode two "historic" ascensores made in the 19th century. Now while I never got back on the horse that bucked me (very literally), I did ride both of the ascensores. Our tour guide was Pablo, a history prof at PUCV who I'd say is about 26 years old. He did a great job and all 8 of us that went on the tour had a blast.
Today I had two real classes (meaning I took notes and learned something) both of which were very informative and not boring. Also, we have to read a book in spanish for my writing class, so I'm slogging through Las Adventuras de Tom Sawyer. I picked a kids book because I thought it would be easier, but it took me 1.5 hours to read about 15 pages. Yee-haw. Hope all is well at home.
ya me voy
Andrew
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Back to School
Hola amigos.
Classes started yesterday, and believe it or not, I was glad. However, it appears that "classes starting" is a bit of an ambiguous concept at PUCV. So far, of the five classes I showed up for, only three have actually taken place. I should be in "La Formacion de la Cultura Hispanoamericana" right now, for instance. But I've enjoyed the three classes I've attended. My classes yesterday were with foreigners, and both of my professors were young, enthusiastic, reasonable, and perhaps most importantly, understandable. Today I had my first class with chilean students, "Precolumbian history in texts and images", and I enjoyed it as well. My professor is very much stereotypical: v-neck sweater, tie, balding, beard, mid-60's, well-spoken, etc. He speaks very slowly because he seems to ponder things extensively before he speaks, which would probably bother me in an english class, but will probably save me now.
Things are still going well with my family. I am able to communicate with them much better now than I was two weeks ago, which has made things run more smoothly. Mi mama tends to be a bit dramatic (and she LOVES to gossip), but anytime I feel like practicing my spanish, all I have to do is walk down to the kitchen and sit down. Not only will I get my ear talked off, I usually get fed as well. Fransisco's cousin and her American husband are visiting (my chilean aunt lives right across the street), and last night we played Latin American Cranium. It was a riot. Needless to say, I was useless, and I kept shouting answers in English because I didn't know the spanish word. Things would occasionally descend into chaos when I would know the answer but not the word in Spanish, and I would have to try and define the word to mama, who would then guess at what I was saying. It definetly added another factor of difficulty. As it turns out, Fransisco is a very fact-filled and intelligent fellow, so he pretty much carried the team. (Mama refused to wear her reading glasses, so she couldn't tell what we were drawing half the time).
Hope all is well at home.
ya me voy
Andrew
Classes started yesterday, and believe it or not, I was glad. However, it appears that "classes starting" is a bit of an ambiguous concept at PUCV. So far, of the five classes I showed up for, only three have actually taken place. I should be in "La Formacion de la Cultura Hispanoamericana" right now, for instance. But I've enjoyed the three classes I've attended. My classes yesterday were with foreigners, and both of my professors were young, enthusiastic, reasonable, and perhaps most importantly, understandable. Today I had my first class with chilean students, "Precolumbian history in texts and images", and I enjoyed it as well. My professor is very much stereotypical: v-neck sweater, tie, balding, beard, mid-60's, well-spoken, etc. He speaks very slowly because he seems to ponder things extensively before he speaks, which would probably bother me in an english class, but will probably save me now.
Things are still going well with my family. I am able to communicate with them much better now than I was two weeks ago, which has made things run more smoothly. Mi mama tends to be a bit dramatic (and she LOVES to gossip), but anytime I feel like practicing my spanish, all I have to do is walk down to the kitchen and sit down. Not only will I get my ear talked off, I usually get fed as well. Fransisco's cousin and her American husband are visiting (my chilean aunt lives right across the street), and last night we played Latin American Cranium. It was a riot. Needless to say, I was useless, and I kept shouting answers in English because I didn't know the spanish word. Things would occasionally descend into chaos when I would know the answer but not the word in Spanish, and I would have to try and define the word to mama, who would then guess at what I was saying. It definetly added another factor of difficulty. As it turns out, Fransisco is a very fact-filled and intelligent fellow, so he pretty much carried the team. (Mama refused to wear her reading glasses, so she couldn't tell what we were drawing half the time).
Hope all is well at home.
ya me voy
Andrew
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