guitarra y cafecito

(i'm being lame and posting the same post on xanga and here)

from 29/08/08



I decided to buy a guitar here. Not an expensive one, nor one of those cheap toy-ish ones that sound like rubberbands on a wooden board. For several weeks I had been looking for guitars, researching the brands, being indecisive about buying one, blah blah blah. My primary site that I was surfing was MercadoLibre.cl (pretty much an ebay for Latin America). I found a Mesko M-07 classical guitar. It cost about $90 bucks. Not too shabby for the sound and all. On a tangent, but not: lately I've been learning to be more decisive, so as a lesson for myself, along with a determination to comprar at that moment, I clicked the comprar button and I immediately recieved a "felicitatciones" email from mercadolibre. wopee. I later got an email with the information of the seller, his number, email, and his real name. Jorge. That's his first name. I always get nervous calling people, not to mention talking to an absolute stranger... in Spanish. But I told myself, I gotta be decisive, just do it. So I called. Eventually we figured out a time and place to meet. Today I met Jorge at his workplace right smack in the middle of el Centro de Santiago. I had an unusual sense of peace as I walked through the massive crowd of people, towards an old European looking building with several floors. I saw a middle-aged fellow walking towards me with a guitar in a guitar bag on his shoulder. He greeted me the Chilean way and invited me inside the office building to try out the guitar and see how I liked it before I bought it.

--¿Tocas?(You play?)
--Si, tocaba por la iglesia. (Yea, I played for church)
--No me digas. ¿Catolica o que? (No way. Catholic or someting?)
--No, Cristiana... (no, Christian)
--Evangelico? (Evangelical?)
--Si pues. (Yeah.)

Then he said something along the lines of... "you're my sister! (in Christ of course.) And after we talked a bit about what church he went to and where I went, he invited me for some coffee. I learned in my ILP class that if someone invites you for something, one on one, it's not a shady thing. So I said yes. (He has a family with 4 kids.. so don't go wooing now.) On the way to the cafe, we shared a bit about our families and whatnot. We ordered coffees and he began sharing pretty much his testimony, his background, and what stage he was in in his walk. El me cayó bien. I shared with him some of my spiritual background as well. It was amazing that he was able to understand me in my broken Spanish. At some point he asked me, so why are you here really, besides to learn Spanish? And I told him my desire to do something about social injustice and etc. And he said, wow, I can't believe we're talking about this right now. And so he shared about how he was feeling burdened to serve people in a concrete way, in a way that would cater to the earthly needs of the many broken, poor people in Santiago, whether that be those in need of food, clothing, or medical attention. He said there was a big need for people to address social injustices, and how the churches here often served people spiritually but not physically. We talked about the difficulties of being witnesses in his workplace and my being in a university where people are taught that they can do it anything and everything leaning on their own human strength. We talked for a while about these things, I felt suprisingly comfortable sharing with him my fears of living in the city city and how I felt like I was being blocked from showing compassion and serving people. He encouraged me a lot and told me that it would be in due time that God would should me where He wanted me, and that we couldn't do these things alone, not only because it could be unsafe, but because people need each other. As we were wrapping it up, he paid for the cafecitos, and on our way out he said, whatever you need, estoy disponible, con brazos abiertos (available, with open arms); perhaps you can come to my house one day and meet my family and perhaps we can even go serve the people together! That invitation, in Chilean culture, is a big deal. And I was quite touched I must say. Rewind for some context. For about a week I had been feeling very challenged by God to simply trust and ask Him to do something, or show me something. Day after day I had been struggling with myself to believe and know, not just in my mind, but my heart, that God was a powerful and almighty God who listened to us. I seriously feel like ever since I got here, there has been the fattest spiritual battles between my flesh (aided by the ever so crafty devil), and the Holy Spirit. This ordained meeting was truly a visible manifestation of God's faithfulness and incredible grace. No joke. Even though I may have not articulated this story as well as I would have liked, I just wanted to emphasize the indescrible feeling of joy and bliss of realizing God's hand at work. It is so beautiful. God is so beautiful and so good. Que lindo y puro es Dios. Aun cuando estoy manchada y rota, Dios me levanta y me sana para que pueda ser su herramiento, su luz. Eres fiel Dios.

goodmorningnight.

photos from http://www.theloniouschile.com

Tonight was a nice nightmorning. First time for everything. Although I unfortunately had to leave el reunion de jovenes mas temprano, I experienced the nightlife of Bellavista for the first time today. No, not to carretear per say, but rather to enjoy a night of jazz with good company. I met up with Vale again in Baquedano and off we went to Thelonius Chile, a bar/restaurante with live jazz music. I guess jazz is something a bit more rare here... so we had to pay an entrance fee. But 5 bucks to listen to jazz is managable. Despite the heavily smoked filled room, the ambience of the place was really chill and enjoyable. There was a gallery-type place with a stand-like seating arrangement. On the suelo there were a bunch of tables and the bar to the far right. Dimmed lights, red and yellow walls, wooden rafters, bookshelves weighed down by hundreds and hundreds of old books. People with their head swaying to the music. Fingers tapping knees to the rhythm of that beautiful jazz. Voices of chatter and laughter en el fondo.

Garret, Jen, her pololo Miguel, and later Sergio came to met up with us. We enjoyed listening, talking, and just chillaxing. Muy tranquilo en verdad. After people started leaving and the band packing, Garret asked el dueño if he could play the piano. Sipo. So there was Garret giving a concert of worship-filled music in the nearly empty lugar de jazz en vivo. But there were still people there, and they listened. I joined him singing the harmony parts of Beauty for Ashes, Inside Out, and I will offer up my life. Bacan. It was refreshing see Garret unashamedly worshipping God through music, even in a setting such as this. It really gave me boldness to sing too. The placed close and we ended the night with empanadas of "quecha" and "pazana" at a nifty little tienda. Mr. G accompanied me back to the casa all the while talking about life. By then it was 3:30 y no tengo sueño todavia. Son las 4:13, my hair is smokey, and God is good all the time.

lately.

Classes have started. What I like about semesters (from what I know in these 3 weeks) is that class don't shift into crazy gear immediately after the 1st class unlike the crazy trimester system. I'm taking 4 classes in total: Seguridad Ciudadana en Chile y AL, Estado y Desarrollo Sustentable, a Chilean culture/history/ politics class, and a history class (Historia de Chile siglo XVII-revolucion y independencia). I have a feeling it'll kick me in the butt later, but so far I'm blissfully exploring the different ramas. The booger of classes starting = transportation time. I'd estimate about 3 hours of my day wasted EVERY day just getting to class. It consists of walking to class, hopping on the bus, then the metro, then walking so more. I must say I feel better about using TransSantiago, but now I'm becoming one of the many disgruntled commuters. At the peak hours, approximately between the hours 4-7pm, the metros and micros are stuffed like sardines in a can. I mean CROWDS of people fill the metro station. When the metro comes by, people starting pushing like mad animals and the surge of pushing just plops you right into the metro... and then you comfortably and involuntarily get wedged in between armpits, necks, butts, chests, backpacks, bags, poles, and whatnot. The sight of the doors closing make me laugh a lot. As the doors close people suck in their stomachs, pull in whatever body part they can, and let the doors slide shut. As the metro goes all one can see is smashed bodies up on the windows. I would take a picture but I wouldn't want to risk getting jacked by someone.

On another happy note, yesterday was nice and tranquilo. Praise God for friends and company. =)

20 cheers with a cup of earl grey!

wohoo. celebración. Gracias a Dios por esta vida!

fidelidad

Praise Him in the good times and in the bad times! God is seriously so amazing. Always providing. punto. Praise Him for friendships, for His presence, His love, grace, mercy, and aLL that.

Aun cuando no estamos fieles... Eres siempre fiel.

freezing mang. and.. lost

Today's highs: 55 degrees
Today's lows: 32 degrees

It's supposedly 50 degrees, but it sure feels like 32. bahhh.

On another note, I suck at finding my way around. I was supposed to get to Campus Gomez Millas at 10:10 today. I left the house at 9:15 thinking I'd give myself some cushion time to get lost. Turns out I should have left at 8:30 or something because the micro took years to come by, I got miserably lost... ended up really close to Centro instead of Ñuñoa. I ended my frustrating journey to Campus via taxi which cost me many trips on the metro. Turns out there wasn't class today. BUT God has a funny way of making people meet people. I ran into a German girl, Silke, equally as frustrated and confused about this whole academic system. She showed me how to take the micro correctly back to Los Leones. Praise God! whew.

I still have half of my Northern Chile trip to update, but it's taking a long time. I shall get around to it someday. for realz.

-Edit-
Sweetened Earl Grey with milk makes me happy.

desiertos pintados, un fondo de estrellas brillas en el cielo oscuro.

Firstly, I apologize for anyone who wanted a second by second account of this trip (ie. myself), it would be quite impossible to recount it all. Hopefully, though, these bloggies can give you a taste of what I and my fellow travelers did.

Part 2 of viaje 7/19 a 7/27:

We continued the tour with Ricardo, onto the Pintados, a series of rocky sand hills covered in more geoglifos. It was amazing to see these 600-1000 year old or some works of art. For realz.
There are supposedly over 900 different geoglifos spread across a bunch of cerros (hills). Pretty crazy huh. But we weren't allowed to go up the hills (for obvious protective reasons). So we took pictures and stared at the massive shapes for a while. We were literally the only people (again) in the national park, so we decided to have a little DP outside of the car. (DANCE PARTY). Ricardo bumped some traditional Chilean dance music and we followed suite. Soon we were doing a strange dance similar to "Father Abraham" or "Making Melodies", but it was called "En La Selva". That little dance proved to be a useful warming tool for later on in the trip.

We stopped by the little pueblito of La Tirana, where all the festivities had been going on the week before. When we got there all was calm.. but we visted the church and whatnot.

Coming back to Iquique (we were in "Greater Iquique") was sure a treat. Beautiful. God is amazing really.

We got back into town and initially planned on buying tickets at the bus station.. only to find that there was "no space" (later we learned that they all say that but there really is space). Since the whole trip had been founded on whims, we brushed those plans aside and started planning to stay in Iquique for one more day. Luckily we discovered another bus, Kenny Bus, with cheaper prices.. and tada!! suddenly there was space for 5 people!! (before they told us they had no room). We rushed back to the hostel (and stopped by the market to pick up stuff to cook a quick improv dinner), cooked, ate, and went off with all our backpacks and whatnot back to the bus stations.... and off we went!! on our way to Calama. (our initial plan had been to go to San Pedro directly, but there were no buses doing that so we had to take a bus to Calama (6hrs) and then from Calama a bus or taxi to San Pedro (1.5 hours). ¡Que complejo! We left at night at around 11 or something around that time. Expected time of arrival? 5 am. We decided to just figure out what to do once we got there.

Bad choice.
We arrived at 5pm. And.. suprise. Nothing was open. Not even the supposed 24 hr. hostels. The temperature in Calama, compared to sunny Iquique of 65 degrees, was probably around 35 degrees. At least it felt like it. Even with layers, including my down jacket.. a beanie, gloves, I was shivering. By the grace of God the bus driver pitied us and drove us to the Tur-Bus station. Nearby we discovered a 24 cafe... semi-outdoor. and a bunch of cute patchy street dogs. We chugged tea and busted out dancing "en la selva" to warm up a bit. We talked to the nice fatigued lady running the cafe via little hole in the door (she didn't want to open the door because she was by herself),with which she also served us our té. Finally we headed over to the Tur Bus terminal in hopes that it would be open. Wrong again. But again, by God's grace and mercy for reals, we found a little side business of taxi-drivers. They graciously allowed us to sit and warm ourselves up in their little closet of an office. The little room was made even more cozy by an Irish couple and a British lady, all with flushed faces and nearly blue lips, that we happened to see walking past. We knew them from the hostel in Iquique. Small world! or San Pedro was really that touristy. We finally decided to just take a taxi to San Pedro. And so we did. vroom.

On our way to San Pedro, we saw the breathtaking view of the sunrise breaking through the seemingly untouched desert. It was amazing. In the background there were rows and rows of volcanoes, while in the front were amazingly perfect sand hills; something I thought possible only in Mario 2 Level 2 with those weird red dragon things? Ok but that's really what it looked like.

At around 7am we arrived in San Pedro.

San Pedro. Was not what I expected. But it was an extremely cute pueblito.

We went hostel jumping and finally found this cute place, Residencial Vilacoyo. It was one of the cheaper places, but it was still comfortable (despite the bathrooms being outdoors).

After eating breakfast at a nice cute (seriously everything was cute) cafe, we went tour hunting. That day we explored Valle de la Luna, Valle de la Muerte, and other cool desert-y sand formations. The tour-guide was a gnarly looking Chilean guy who talked about how these formations came about, info about all the volcanoes, etc. The naturaleza was seriously incredible. It was an entirely different picture of nature that I had never seen. God's creation seriously dumbfounded me. The pictures I took could only capture a snipit of the beauty surrounding me.

When it came time to go to Valle de la Luna, the sun was near setting, and crowds of tour groups were making their way up the massive sand hill to get a better view of the puesta del sol. I only realized how out of shape I was when I started walking up the sand hill. The fact that it was sand made it a tad harder. At one point I was really wishing I had camel feet.
"Ships of the desert!" -Prof. Herbst

As the sun began to set, the sky and the fondo exploded with colors. We just sat there snapping photos and trying to absorb surrounding us. Truly amazing.

On the way back to San Pedro, the black sky was covered with billions of brightly shining stars. Later on a Brazilian told me that San Pedro was the most blessed place on earth to see stars. I believe him.

The day ended with a heart full of wonderment and joy.

El Norte de Chile: sometimes it's better not to plan

Even more current update: Classes started. FINALLY! So far I'm taking a class called "Seguridad Cuidadana en Chile y AL" and another called "Estado y Desarrollo Sustentable".
We shall see if I last in these classes.

Current update : recently, its been raining quite a bit. Like now. Pouring and windy. Yum. Good and Bad. Bad because you get soaked. Shoes, clothes that are supposedly water-repellent, and it's not hard to get sick after a rainy day. BUT Good because it cleans the air. The sunny days that have been following the rainy ones have been so beautiful: you can actually see the snow-covered Andes behind Santiago, the air is crisp, the skies are blue, and everyone and their mothers are outside running, biking, rollerblading, kids playing in the parks. Its a beautiful sight. So I guess it's worth getting sick.

And now back to the belated updates:

So as I said before, we got to the airport at dark 5:30ish am for our 8am flight. Little did we know this was no LAX. I really don't know why I'm making a big story out of this, but I thought it was funny because when we got here we had no idea where our counter was-that was because it wasn't set up yet. It was a strange experience watching the pantallas (screens) with horarios (schedules) popping up 30 mintues AFTER we arrived at the airport. People were setting up those rope-things that made organized lines, others were pushing in the AirComet plaque-on-a-stick at the start of the line (in order to notify people that those counters were AirComet) . Anyways, we got our tickets and braced ourselves for the security line-which we soon learned barely existed. It took literally 2 minutes to go through the security checkpoint (only because it took 2 minutes to walk from the counter to the checkpoint). Such a beautiful thing, not having to wait 4 million years to get past security. Flew to Antofagasta and had una escala (layover). Then off to Iquique!

Iquique is the main city of the "greater Iquique area". It's located in north, about 6 or so hours from the most north main city Arica. Según Wiki: "The city's name comes from the Aymara word "Ique-ique", which translates to "laziness", but can also mean "sleep" or "bed."' Pretty sweet right? The city is way more easy going that Santiago. It's unique (to me at least) because when we flew into the Iquique airport, all we saw were sand dunes... but as we drove towards this coastal city, suddenly a city popped up and along with it a beach fringing the whole place. We stayed in Backpacker's Hostel while being in Iquique. GOOD Hostel. Very easy-going environment, nicely furnished, relatively clean, and a wonderland for people who like to meet people from all over the world. The picture above is the balcony view from the 3rd floor. there was also a roughly built loft above the balcony that gave us a view of the city pretty much from rooftop view. (see below)

One of our travel buddies, Liz, got in contact with Roberto via Couch Surfer. After a nice 3 course lunch (for 5 bucks!), we met up with Roberto. Roberto is a super nice self-employed free-lance photographer/designer. He spent the whole day showing us around Iquique, his hometown. yo. Not only that, he brought along his fancy pants camera and took pictures of us as we went along (not in a creepy way, no worries). As we walked he told us his passion for meeting people all around the world. He learned some English (still practicing) when he joined Couch Surfer. His philosophy of life and the need to replenish the broken networks of trust between humans is quite lindo. We saw the beach, a little zoo, free churros from his uncle, walked around the boardwalk a bit, saw old buildings/towers/ fountains/ theaters, browsed street markety-things, had delicious jugo natural (ie. guayananaranja, mango-leche), met his family, and his studio where he works on his projects. It was seriously amazing that a stranger would take an entire day to show us around like that.

"el reloj" in the middle of the city iquique. pretty no?

A super old theater from the 1800's.. it was closed, but the nice guard let us in and even turned on the lights for us. COOL.

In the theater there were pictures posted all over the lobby of old plays that were done in the theater. One of them being. this one.

Within the next day we went museum hopping, bus and tour searching. In all reality, we had no idea what we were going to do next. Everything we did was nearly a whim. And I must admit, it was pretty darn fun not having any plans. "Lets go walk around. Right now..." "OK!" "Let's cook dinner tonight!" "OK!" "Let's go on a tour" "OK!".

Virgin Carmen
We went to a museum filled with history of the region. A lot of the exhibits were that of the La Tirana celebrations that had passed a week earlier. The story of La Tirana goes, as I understood it, like this: Once upon a time, in the time of the conquistadores, there lived an Inca princess. She was captured by a conquistador, but escaped into the bosques (woods) that had existed before they were cut down. She became the ruler over the area and killed any foreigner she saw (hence the name La Tirana- The Tyrant). All the local people were happy because they didn't like the foreigners bombarding their space and exploiting the people. Then one day, a foreign guy from Portugal (?) came along and they fell in love. He tamed her so that she wouldn't kill anymore people. And she didn't. BUT the local people were anger at her so they killed them both. The end.

We shared a room with Dorothee, a German 18 year-old who has been living in Bolivia for 3 years now. She came along for a little bit.

Like all big cities, on the periphery there were shanty-townish houses made of wood, tin, cloth, and pretty much anything else. It gave me a reality check. Poverty is still here.

We went on a tour with some random tour agency. (whim!) Explored Humberstone, an old abandoned salitre (sodium nitrate mines)... The whole place was abandoned about 1940s.. A lot of exploitation and oppressiveness against the workers. History repeats itself all over the world. One word: company-stores.

These worker shoes have wooden soles. The workers dunked these shoes in water in order to soften the wood, but once the wood dried out, their feet would get splinters stuck in them. ouch.

The ghost town. Damage from the 2005 earthquake (magnitude of 7.9 or something really high)

El Gigante. One of the biggest geoglyphs around. To get to this place, we essentially drove through the boonies, through the desierto with no road or car in site. Pretty surreal.

TO BE CONTINUED. (i HAVE to post NOW else Grace Mao Wu will go crazy. =P)