What are the chances?

View from the side window of my house.

Wow. This week has flown by. I'm finally settled in with my family, I've registered for my classes, and I'm starting to get my bearings. In short, Valparaiso is starting, just starting, to feel like home.

You may wonder from whence came the inspiration for my title, so let me tell you about friday morning. Friday was one of the six excursions that ISA has arranged for all the students-- a simple, half day reconaissance of Valparaiso. Our pack of gringos walked around downtown Valpo and meandered towards the harbor where we took a super-touristy boat ride. Granted, the views of the city from the water with the mountains in the background are impressive, but the whole thing was a bit hokey nonetheless. Oh, before I forget, I saw a submarine cruising through the bay on my way to school. It was sweet. Anyway, we got to see the shipping docks, and a couple of battleships moored in the harbor, and everyone took a lot of pictures.

After the boat ride, we walked a couple blocks to one of the many ascensores (a kind of furnicular that carries people up the steep hills from the city to the housing developments) and rode it up to the top where there is a beautiful view of the harbour. This particular ascensor was very old and rickety, and only twelve people were allowed on at one time. Made almost entirely from wood, it had the feel and smell of a large sauna. The floorboards had gaps in them, and we could see the ground about 20 feet below. When it moved, the boards in the walls would sideslip past each other and creak. As we ascended in our ascensor, we joked about the fact that the whole setup probably hadn't been inspected since the '60s, and wouldn't it be funny if the cable snapped and the whole thing plummeted down the hill into the station below. (It should be mentioned that all means of transportation in Chile have a considerable level of risk...the gondola we rode in Santiago ran into the branches of at least fifteen trees hard enough to make the whole thing swing vigorously, not to mention walking or riding the micros.) But our trusty ascensor, although it huffed and puffed and jerked once or twice to keep us on our toes, brought us safely to the top. The summit was a tourist trap, and after 15 minutes we piled back into the ascensor in sets of twelve to go back to the school for lunch. I boarded the ascensor with the first group.

As we descended, we kept joking about the cable breaking, or the floor collapsing, or any number of ways that the rickety toboggan could bring an even dozen of us to a sticky end. We were about 10 feet from the station at the bottom when the car jolted sideways. No problem; it happened on the way up. Immediately following that jerk, however, the entire car dropped about 12 inches and began to slide sideways off the track, inspring a chorus of screams and curses. Luckily for us, our fall was abruptly terminated when the car slammed into the boarding station. It was, to say the least, a little unnerving. We sat in the car for another10 minutes waiting for the rescue party (walking around caused the car to shift on the track, so we stayed put in the interest of low blood pressure) which finally arrived in the form of a crusty old man and a beat up ladder. (The track at this part was only about 10 feet off the ground.) If the car had derailed in the middle of the track, we would have fallen 20-30 feet sideways. The attendant at the top informed the rest of our group that the "electicity had cut out" and told them to take the stairs down.

Whew. Although it's not as adrenaline pumping as an ascensor deraileur, I signed up for my classes on wednesday. At the moment I'm taking 7, but I will drop at least 2 after I figure out which two I'm likely to fail. Currently I'm enrolled in three classes with foreigners: Spanish grammar, Written Spanish, and Spanish communication and culture. I´m also enrolled in four classes with chilean students, two of which I will drop: Geography of Chile, The formation of the hispanoamerican culture, Precolombian culture in texts and images, and Latin American culture in Texts and Images. I also signed up for social dancing, intercambio (speaking with a chilean student for 30 minutes in spanish and 30 minutes in english), tenis, and ping-pong.

Here's some photos.

Mi familia chilena. From left to right Emily (an American who was here for the summer and is leaving monday), mi hermano (brother), mi mama, and her sister who lives nearby












Derailed?











Yes.













Gringos.












Scared gringos.














The ascensor.
















ya me voy

Andrew