planettammy's TravelStream™ — Recent TravelPod.com entries

planettammy's TravelStream™ — Recent TravelPod.com entries TravelStream™ news feed for member planettammy on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/planettammy en-us Copyright ©2009 TravelPod.com Sun, 30 Sep 2007 13:33:18 -0400 http://www.travelpod.com More Children! — Arequipa, Peru http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1187068740/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1187068740/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1187068740/tpod.html Sun, 30 Sep 2007 13:33:18 -0400 South American Sueños

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Arequipa, Peru

The sounds of crashing batons and childrens' laughter floated through the early afternoon air.  Watching intently, their little voices screeched with delight as two street performers juggled their giant bowling pins around either side of the 5 numbered and nervous children standing in a row.  "Quatro!" one of the jugglers yelled, while some gasped with fright and others yelped excitedly.  Number 4 came running from the line and back to his classmates, just barely missing the flying pin.  Little voices everywhere were murmuring words of anticipation as the jugglers kept throwing their pins and more yelling numbers as the corresponding child went sprinting from the line.  It was my first day with the children from Elohim Elementary School, but I was already in love.It was the first visit (and first field trip) for many of the kindergardeners to the Plaza de Armas, the central plaza of the city of Arequipa, Perú.  In preparation for el Dia de Arequipa on August 15, the children were visiting the plaza to learn about their city and it's beautiful sights including an entire plaza made from stunning white volcanic rock.  How sweet they were as I said goodbye to them after all 16 were packed into the back of a little white minivan and they hung their arms and faces out the window and continued waving until they were out of sight.That was the beginning of my 2 weeks at Elohim School.  It wasn't nearly enough, but I was grateful for the time that I got to spend with those little people.  A stark contrast from the preschool in Chile, these kids come to school wearing the same dirty clothes each day because they haven't had an opportunity to bathe. As an incentive, the school provides breakfast and lunch for the children.  Before this was offered there were about 30 children who attended whereas now there are upwards of 120.  Their little cheeks are always dry and cracked from the harsh desert elements; too much exposure to the sun and the wind.  While they do have electricity (a very recent development), the school isn't equipped with running water so it is necessary to dump a bucket of water down the toilet after a visit to the restroom.  The women in the kitchen use the same buckets of water all day long to clease vegetables, dishes, tables... needless to say it is brown and full of germs by the end of the day.  Many of the children work after school.  I was told by Jay, the volunteer coordinator, that one little girl's parents actually check her underwear at night to see if she is hiding any money there after work.  Before the Arequipa holiday, at the end of the schoolday, I listened as one of the teachers said a prayer with the students.  One of the first things she asked for was for God to watch over the children who have to go to work after school, that they might be safe on the streets...But even in the midst of all of this, the children are exuberant.  So sweet and full of life and happiness, they love climbing all over the volunteers that come to play with them.  And they love cameras.  All of them want their picture taken and of course, to be able to see it afterwards on the screen.I was fortunate enough to be able to work with the first/second grade classroom and help them with their reading skills.  And I got to watch as they learned their fancy little dance for Arequipa week :)As sad as I am to go from here, my Peruvian visa runs out on the 19th and so I have to be on my way.  Also as my funds have been running a bit low, I found a free bed and food in a hostel in exchange for night work in the reception office.  The people are a bit strange, it's not too bad of a set-up really, but I'm definitely ready to leave this silly hostel!
]]> En Route to La Isla Del Sol — Copacabana, Bolivia http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1187587980/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1187587980/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1187587980/tpod.html Sun, 30 Sep 2007 03:00:45 -0400 South American Sueños

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Copacabana, Bolivia

After living the city life two weeks and working at a hostel where the inhabitants favorite pastimes were to stay up all night while get wildy drunk only to sleep with each other and then talk about the entire next day while they lounged around in the yard never venturing out to see any sights, all I really wanted was some peace and tranquility.With that being decided, I chose to come to Bolivia and do some wandering around the world's highest lake, Lago Titicaca.  I bypassed the day-tour operators from Copacabana and decided to walk as far as I could around the lake until I came to a point where I could hire a row-boat to go across the last leg to the island.  The village, Nampupata, is only about a stone's throw from the island and there were a couple of old men sitting around in lawn chairs that offered up their boats.The walk was entertaining.  My first compañera was a little girl from the village about a kilometer or 2 up the road.  She showed me which of the cows, sheep and llamas in the fields belonged to her family and each of the homes of her extended family members.  Her Aymara/Spanish mix of language gave me a little bit of trouble, but we communicated well enough and she went along her way to go help her mother cook lunch.An hour or so later I came across a fork in the road where my instructions told me to turn left.  A family, protected by the shade of the forest, was seated there in the grass and appeared to be enjoying a lazy Sunday morning by the brook.  I smiled at the family and continued with my unclear directions.  I just decided to take off in what seemed like the right direction- towards the water.  About 10 minutes down the road, however, the man who had been seated with his 3children caught up to me and asked me where I was going.  "Nampupata," I said.  He smiled and told me that I was going the wrong way and I needed to turn around or I would run into cliffs and would have to turn around in an hour or so.   I figured that he didn't chase me out here for his health, so I believed him.  Then he offered to show me the right way.  As we walked he explained to me that he and his family sit here and watch for people walking by so they can show them the right way.  Otherwise, he said, they the come back from the cliffs after 2 hours and are exhausted.  I gave him a little tip for his kindness and bid him goodbye when he showed me to the right trail that now had become an old Inca stairwell.When I finally made it up the stairwell (I stopped several times due to my general lack of physical shape and the fact that I was at over 3500 mtrs altitude) I was surrounded by spectacular views of the lake and a heavenly solitude that was only interrupted for brief moments by a grazing sheep's <i>baaa  or a squealing pig.Eventually I made it to Nampupata and found myself a rower and a rowboat for about $3.  It would have been nice to do it myself but I guess it's better that way seeing as how I was pretty tired after my little hike that lasted 5 hours...  And we made pretty good time seeing as how the poor guy had to row into the wind for most of it.On the other side of the lake we realized that he didn't have change for my whopping $100 Boliviano note (about $12) so we had to wait as another boat was approaching that hadleft about 15 minutes after us.  As luck would have it, the boat carried another traveler, Duane the digerey-doo playing Frenchman, who did, in fact have enough change for the both of us so I was let off the hook.We were met by a 10 year old local boy who showed us to his aunt's lodging.  She gave us a good deal so we settled into our rooms and went for a "little" walk around the island.  Of course it started to get dark and neither of us had bothered to notice the name of the little huts where we were staying.  So we wandered aimlessly for a couple of hours asking shop and restaurant owners that were beginning to close up if they knew where the "little stone houses with donkeys out front and a view of the lake" (you can imagine how many of those there are on the island!).  Just when I was starting think about how cold and windy it would be to sleep outside, Duane and the newest shop owner involved in our ridiculous quest had an epiphany and realized that we were no further than 100 meters from our rooms.  It was a bit hidden off the road, but we only had to go downhill a bit.My life had meaning again and we walked down the hill to find our rooms.  A few minutes later we met in the restaurant for some delicious rosy pink trout and our silly little adventure became nothing more than a couple of laughs.
]]> Fiestas Patrias... — Lima, Peru http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1185662040/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1185662040/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1185662040/tpod.html Sun, 30 Sep 2007 02:51:27 -0400 South American Sueños

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Lima, Peru

I was more than excited to find out when we entered the Tacna bus station on July 19, fresh from the border of Chile, that Peru was in anticipation of their Fiestas Patrias, or Independence Day so to say, on July 28.  I was even more excited when I realized that I was going to be in the capital for all the festivities.  All I could think was barbequed corn, chicha and parties!I´m a sucker for a parade, so the promise of a big, giant parade with lots of school kids and uniforms and flowers and marching had me really excited.  A woman that I met in Cusco, Rosa, was from Lima and had gotten me all jazzed on the idea that the Limeños were going to parade 3 times that day.So on the 28th we excitedly ate breakfast (I should amend that so say that Becky excitedly ate breakfast and I ate Pedialyte and crackers) and rallied up a Dutch girl and an Irish guy to come along with us to see the parade.  We got to the Plaza de Armas and were ready for some marching and were sadly, very let down.  For starters, we couldn´t even access the Plaza because it was fenced off and guarded at EVERY corner.  We asked why and the guards explained that many people were unhappy with the President and they were stationed there to protect the governmental square from civil attacks that day.  Then they gave me a little flyer and sent me on my merry way.Atelast there was a little ceremony.  Nobody was really able to see it aside from the other people in the government and the really tall people with eagle vision that could see over the guards, but we did hear a little music.  So was my disappointment.  We didn´t return the next day, I guess I lost my patriotic excitement.  We did go out dancing until 6 am.  And that´s how I learned they way Peruvians really celebrate their holiday.  Pisco Sours and dancing till the sun comes up.
]]> ¿Dónde esta el baño? — Cusco, Peru http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1185571140/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1185571140/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1185571140/tpod.html Sun, 12 Aug 2007 21:52:23 -0400 South American Sueños

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Cusco, Peru

It seems as though in my life, mishaps are not few and far between, but frequent and funny.   Thus is the case with our little excursion to Machu Picchu.Things started out alright.  We went to a tour company.  We booked a tour.  We paid for it.  We spent the rest of the weekend getting things together for the tour and relaxing.  We packed.  We stored our bags at our hotel.  We waited for the company to pick us up.  We waited some more.  We waited longer.  We called the tour company.  We waited some more.  We went to the office.  It wasn´t open.  We waited.After lots of waiting and an interesting conversation with a woman named Rosa from Lima and her family, we went to find Victor the tour guy and get our money back.  Thankfully, we suceeded and went in search of our little friend Joseph, who also ran tours and was much nicer.  We booked a tour with Joseph or so we thought, but that also failed because of lack of return train tickets due to the large number of tourists in Cuzco.So we got tired of guides and decided to do it on our own.  The third time was the charm and after we booked train tickets for a different date and a hostel in Machu Picchu Pueblo, we finally were on our way to get to the world famous, Seven Wonders of the World card-carrying member, impresionante Machu Picchu.We woke up at 4:15ish on that morning with a serious desire to climb the ridiculously long hill to the top of Machu Picchu (because $6 for a bus was just too much and we wanted to feel like we earned it anyway since we missed out on the Inca Trail...).  We were accompanied by lots of other Picchu wanderers climbing up the same hill.  I particularly remember a group of Chileans yelling at their poor sister Isi...  ¨Vamos Isi, vamos!¨ they yelled over and over at  5 in the morning.  Poor Isi...Becky and I swallowed back the churning yogurt at the bottom of our stomachs-  a rookie mistake, drinking a pint of yogurt before walking straight uphill for an hour and a half.  But we got there somehow and then cheered for poor Isi.We wandered in through the Disney World gates and security where I willingly handed over my contraband banana to the security guard and told him that it was a present for him.  I just didn´t want any trouble.  :)   We held onto the weathered and worn wooden hand-rails that led the tourist to the top of the hill- the best place to sit to watch the sunrise over the mountains and shine on Machu Picchu.  It was absolutely amazing and after a fun little photo shoot with Becky and our new friend Amanda, we wandered through the place a little before pangs of hunger started shooting from our tummies.So we were back down to the Disney World picnic benches to eat some cheese and bread, my favorite hiking food, and a chance to re-engergize before attempting to climb Huayna Picchu (the peak that looms over Machu Picchu).  Sadly, we were too late-  only 400 visitors a day are allowed up and by 9:00, they were full. For me however, it was acutally very fortunate that I didn´t start to climb the mountain because shortly thereafter my carelessness of food choices from the night before caught up to me and I was immobilized for the rest of the day.  After paying .50 soles for the bathroom on numerous subsequent visits I asked the attendant if there was a frequent user pass and was denied.  I guess he didn´t think I was very funny. So I found a nice patch of dirt to lay down on and watched the llamas frolick in the grassy area.  Becky finished up wandering through with Amanda and then we paid the damn $6 for the bus to take us back to the Pueblo.  The next few days all consisted of very similar events, me being sick and me having to travel anyway.  But the good news is that they sell Pedialyte in Cusco.  Hell, I`ll bet some of those restaurants probably have stock in the company.... 
]]> Nasca No NO. — Nasca, Peru http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1186103100/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1186103100/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1186103100/tpod.html Sat, 11 Aug 2007 23:23:34 -0400 South American Sueños

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Nasca, Peru

After arriving in Nasca after dark, something that I generally tend to avoid as a woman traveler, I was pleased to see that a representative from my hostel was at the bus station waiting for me.  He got us a cab and let the taxi driver hit on me on the way back to the hostel.  He checked me in and sold me a tour for the following day to fly over the Nasca Lines.  He irritated me immensely because he was a liar and he kept trying to cheat me out of extra money by playing tricks on his calculator.  As tired as I was I wasn´t about to let this jerk cheat me out of more money (I already knew I was being overcharged for the room) so we continued to argue and I did the calculations in the calculator myself.  I certainly won´t miss this aspect of Peru. There are always sneaky people trying to weasel extra money out of unsuspecting gringos...  grrr.Anyway, all worked out fine and I went to bed, exhausted after one last night of dancing in Lima with some hostel friends.In the morning it was cloudy so we postponed our 9 am flight to 11:30.  I was pleased as I had nothing else to do that day and didn´t have to check out of my hostel until 12:00.  We got to the airport right on time and then waited for upwards of 2 and 1/2 hours for a pilot.  We did, however, get to watch every single one of the documentaries in English and Spanish concerning the Nasca Lines and Maria Reiche.  People came and went, had their turns and came back, but we still sat.  I´ve learned not to get upset by this type of thing, it happens so often in South America that I just am accustomed to the wait and the constant change of details, as nothing is EVER at what time they say it´s going to be.  Of course my gringa roots run deep so I still show up relatively on time for everything just in case a miracle happens.So finally around 2:45 we got up in our own rickety little Cessna and went for a ride.  I think I was more excited to be in that little plane than I was to see the lines.  Especially because they didn´t look as big as they do on the Discovery Channel....Of course the inevitable happened and I started to feel a bit plane sick.  He would turn the plane deep to the right and deep to the left to offer a better view (all while screaming into the headphones ¨Mono!  Lado Derecho!  Monkey!  Left Side!¨)  I guess he was trying to do a good job of being the in-flight entertainment.  By this time my stomach turned to the left and to the right and I was just counting the minutes until the flight was over.  It´s a bit ironic really that someone who likes to travel as much as I do should have problems with motion sickness.  The same kind of funny that places an ¨s¨ in the word ´lisp´.We made it back without incident (meaning that I didn´t puke!) and the other folks on the tour teased me a bit because my face had lost all color.  I was just happy to be on the ground.I decided I needed to sit down in the sun with a nice cold bottle of bubbly water to recover from my plane-sickness.  I sat on a quiet little bench in a park and watched the little kids play around the fountain. And that´s when my quiet little sunny afternoon was interrupted by what appeared to be disguised as a nice grandfatherly old man.He said hello and sat down on the other side of the bench.  He began grandfatherly conversation.  Then he began to talk about love and life which was all leading up to his final question-  A proposition to spend the night with him for $200!!I´m still unclear what about me gave him the idea that I would be interested in prostituting myself - I was wearing my hiking boots and jeans for goodness sakes, not to mention it was like 3:30 in the afternoon!I politely declined the old dirtbag, while condemning his un-gentlemanlylike conduct and excused myself from the bench.  I´m sure that as he was drooling while I walked away he wasn´t the least bit concerned that I thought that he was a dirty old pig.Needless to say, I was all to happy to leave Nasca that night for a fresh start in a different city.
]]> Fe, WHAAA!!! — Tacna, Peru http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1185073380/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1185073380/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1185073380/tpod.html Mon, 23 Jul 2007 22:47:41 -0400 South American Sueños

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Tacna, Peru

Well we´re here in Peru.  Becky and I.  Things have been good so far.  We flew from Santiago to the northernmost city in Chile, Arica, to cross the border into Peru from there.   The whole day was quite an experience.  Aside from countless warnings from caring Chileans telling us that we had better be very careful with our things in Peru (as if there are no robbers in Chile- yet another testament of the Chile vs. the rest of South America mentality) we managed to cross the border without incident. My favorite part was that we crossed the border in an old Cadillac taxi, probably from the early 80´s that looked like it had been maybe been through the carwash one too many times.  I actually wasn´t sure if we were going to start bumping the hydrolics or do a drive-by... it was that kind of ride.  But everything turned out and Becky, myself, 2 Spaniards and a Chilean woman all crossed the border without any problems.We arrived in Tacna, the Peruvian border town and were immediately accosted by numerous taxi drivers, ticket salesmen, alpaca hat saleswomen and people selling peanuts.  We eventually found our way to buy a bus ticket for 8 that night to Cuzco, checked our bags in the bus office and set out to explore Tacna with the 6 hours that we still had to kill.Tacna was a nice city and we pretty much kept to ourselves until a couple hours before we were scheduled to get out our bus. We decided to try the local beer at streetside bar and sat down to order a glass.  As our beer was arriving some locals from an adjacent table began beckoning to us to come and sit with them.  A man and a woman both in their 40s and rather harmless.  So we sat down and gabbed a bit with them until it became apparent that the woman, Luana, was trying to set us up with the man she was with.  Her friend, Martin, she claimed was absolutely ¨enamorado¨ (in love) with Becky and wanted to buy her a drink.  Luana did her best to explain how his love began and grew by exclaiming ¨Fe¨ (face) and pointing to her face and then bellowing ¨WHAAAAA¨ (we think that this was supposed to mean ¨wow¨) and slapping her on her butt (for those of you who don´t know Becky- baby got back!).  I was completely unable to control my laughter and Becky sure was a good sport about it.  She did this repeatedly and when she decided that Martin wasn´t going to cut it for us (probably because SHE IS HIS EX-WIFE!!)  she started showing us photos of her 23 year old son and telling us how beautiful we were and that we should meet her ´negrito´.  By this time she was good and drunk (as if she wasn´t before) and we did our best to let her down softly but she wasn´t getting the picture.  After some more friendly banter we finally managed to leave after we claimed we had to catch our bus, but not without her taking down our fake email addresses so we could be in contact with her son, ¨the Inca warrior.¨ In short, it was a wildly entertaining afternoon that preceded one of the longest bus rides of my life that among other things, had us seated next to a crowing rooster for 7 hours.  Next up Inca Trail tour to Machu Picchu.
]]> La Gente — Concepcion, Chile http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1166569860/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1166569860/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1166569860/tpod.html Mon, 04 Jun 2007 13:45:28 -0400 South American Sueños

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Concepcion, Chile

 The people. The Chilean people are a special group.  Warm, caring, almost always smiling and so immensely proud of their country you´d think they´d explode, they are definitely a joy to pass the time with.   The genuine ebullience that you give them when you tell them that you think their country is beautiful is one of a kind.  And while their Spanish was inpenetrable at first,  I have grown to love all of the ´chilenismos´or ´chileanisms´ that they use.  (in fact i´ll be quite sad when I come back to  CA and say things like ´¿cachai?´and get blank looks) Most often Chilean women, but the men as well, will never hesitate to tell me when they think I´m doing something unsafe.  On more than one occasion I´ve been told to wear my backpack in front o fme instead of behind so I don´t get robbed.  I´ve been walked all the way up my GIANT hill by numerous Chilean frineds (and Chilean stray dogs for that matter) for my safety.  And while some of the men are machistas  and make catcalls and whistles, they´re usually so much funnier than they are threatening- like the time 2 of my blonde girlfriends were walking down the street together and some guy yells, ¨GRINGAS!¨ and then claps his hand over his mouth repeatedly like North American kids do when they´re imitating indians.  It´s just so ridiculous that it´s funny. From the amount of advice that I´ve received here in Chile, I wonder how I even got by before.    When  I caught a cold I received daily advice from my Chilean host momRuth and  my Chilean host dad Pedro and  every other day from our Nana Carmen (and that was because she only worked M/W/F).  Even the neighbor Moira gave me her piece as did my program director and countless other Chilean friends. The whole ´wait it out- it´s just a cold´ theory is non-existent here in Chile.  It seemed to be almost shameful  if you caught a cold.    Carmen even told me that I shouldn´t wash my hair until I get better! The food here isn´t that great, but so much love goes into preparing it.    Ruth and Carmen spend hours in the kitchen preparing  lunch and always want to know how it tastes.  Pedro always says  that everything is , ¨muuy rico¨  ( veery rich/good)  with the exception of the Californian wine that I had Desiree send to us.  That was only ¨okay¨ because, once again, Pedro and the rest of the Chileans are so proud of their country  they´d never admit if if they liked Californian wine better than Chilean wine.  (In fact, when I told Pedro that I was having wine sent, he asked ¨Why?  We have excellent wine here in Chile.  :) And the Chileans never rush. Chilean men never miss a chance to slow down to look at a pretty woman (or if she´s a gringa say something like ¨Hello, I love you¨  or ¨bee-u-ti-ful¨ which may just be the only English words that they actually know)  Friends always stop to say hello and give a kiss on the cheek before passing and nothing, with the exception of classes and usually buses, runs on time.  People always stop to buy ice cream and even in the middle of winter one hand is holding the hand of their boyfriend or girlfriend and the other is holding an ice-cream cone.    While I can´t say that  I love the constant PDA, it is a noteworthy attribute of Chileanism.  Some of my friends have postulated that since most people live with their parents until much later than in the US, public places remain  the  only semi-private  spots where they can make-out  without their parents in the same room.  So park benches, soft green spots of grass and even restaurant tables all become scenes of minor romance. In general, the Chileans are a bunch of good eggs.  Of course there´s bad eggs too- I have friends who´ve been robbed and my butt was actually grabbed on the street once, but this is the same all over the world.  They´re quick to smile, quick to laugh,  always giving advice, always holding hands and eating ice cream, and just plain nice folks.
]]> Closure — Concepcion, Chile http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1165069200/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1165069200/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1165069200/tpod.html Mon, 04 Jun 2007 13:35:07 -0400 South American Sueños

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Concepcion, Chile

So it´s been 3 months. At first, I wasn´t so sure about my program. I felt like I was too independent to really benefit from what I liked to refer to as babysitting. Then I relaxed a little and realized that so what, maybe I am being babysat (our program director  actually referred to us as her "guaguas" which means "babies" in Chilean spanish)but she may just be the best babysitter I ever had.There are just a few reasons why I love Concepcion and my life for the last 3 months:1. My Chilean dad Pedro. He has made it his goal to get me drunk at every almuerzo we have had since I got here. He makes an amazing Pisco Sour and he never misses the chance to tell each and every one of my friends who visits, "Soy famoso para mis jugos naturales y mis Piscos." (Which means "I am famous for my natural juices and my Piscos) He wakes up every morning around oh, 9-10ish and comes downstairs to make fresh juice for himself and his wife (and me if I happen to be home) from pineapples, strawberries, peaches, oranges, kiwis and whatever random fruits are floating around the kitchen. He genuninely meant well and never missed a chance to tell me that I am the "regalona." 2. Jorge Osorio. This hapless fellow had the burden of teaching spanish to a brigade of rowdy gringos for three months. And oh, were we rowdy. Ridiculous at times even. At times we came to class late, we came to class drunk (although in our defense it was after our morning professor made us pisco sours), we slept on our dictionaries, we burst into uncontrollable giggling fits, we spoke in bad grammar, we made a plethora of sexual innuendos and we generally never resisted the urge to start up pointless banter with whoever was sitting next to us. But he pressed on. And we loved him for it. By the end, he was teaching us the things he thought were most interesting to us like how to order a beer and say "i am waiting for your love" in correct grammar. Jorge, the gringos love you.3. The hermanos. Chileans are fun. Really fun. Not only did we eat a lot of food, suffer through Lebu together, dance like machines, teach each other bad words, stay out till dawn, make fun of our professors, tell each other that we are the "raja" all the time, lay in the grass, play the guitar and sing, but we did it all while correcting each others grammar. It was a linguistics student´s dream really. 4. The Gringos. The friends I have made here have made me a better human. When I got here I was ready to be (relatively) alone for a year. Then I met 60 of the best people I could ever have asked to meet. And that whole detachment plan just flew out the window. I guess if I had to pinpoint one reason why I have been such a bad pen pal, it would be them. You wouldn{t think that I would move to Chile and meet a truckload of fabulous Californians, but that is how it happened. Because to Meghan, everything is beautiful. Jasmine{s laugh and little snort can cure diseases. Yoga Susan never ever misses a chance to give love. Brett is one of the most amazing and genuine people I have ever known. Julie can fit in a suitcase. Marika is from some other crazy beautiful world. Jake is pretty much Bon Jovi. Isabel makes me laugh, Always. How wonderful is it when we are lucky enough to realize how blessed we actually are.5. Thanksgiving. Although Thanksgiving is not a Chilean holiday, Ruth and Pedro let me put on one of the most beautiful Thanksgivings of my life. This was the best substitute for my real family that I could have ever imagined. We stuffed ourselves silly and polished off a bowl of ponche. Jake and Brett had the weakest eating contest I have ever seen. Isabel had to take a time out to sleep on my bed. And Marika played the violin with a passion unshakable. And they even put up with the emotion rollercoaster I ride every Thanksgiving. Most importantly, however, I pulled off my grandma´s cheesecake. There is a lobe in my brain that will stay in at the Kunstmann in Plaza Peru with my gringo friends forever.In short, once I recover from the depression of departure, I should be a better pen pal. Sorry to all of you that have been wondering if I´m alive. ;)
]]> Chile v. Argentina 2007 — Buenos Aires, Argentina http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1169459640/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1169459640/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1169459640/tpod.html Mon, 04 Jun 2007 13:31:42 -0400 South American Sueños

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Buenos Aires, Argentina

As I walked up to the front of the internet cafe to pick up the freshlyprinted copies of my brand-spanking new Spanish resume, it had beenclear that the nosey little man at the counter had been readingthem.  Obviously, the gringa had struck his curiosity and so heasked me what I was up to here in Argentina. ¨Turista?¨ he offered helpfully, ¨estudiante?¨  Clearly he´d notedmy Chilean address on the top and wanted to know who exactly Iwas.  I responded my usual spiel, I was a student in Chile and now I´mlooking for work in Argentina to teach English.  He asked my why Iwanted to work in Argentina instead of Chile, but didn´t even give me achance to answer before he blurted, ¨aca es más lindo.¨ (it´s muchnicer here)  I could tell he wanted some dirt so I smiled and said¨si¨and then mentioned that I appreciated the clarity of theArgentinian Spanish because the Chileans hardly even pronounce the end of their words.  Hegrinned and agreed and then added, ¨y por lo menos todos sonmentirosos.¨  I couldn´t do anything but let out a startled laugh before the phonerang.  I mouthed ¨chau, gracias¨and walked out the door smiling tomyself. And I continued to smile as I walked down the streetthinking  that only an Argentinian would say, ¨and they´re allpretty much liars.¨And the Uruguayans are in on it too.  One week in the country wasenough to know that arguments almost always lead to the Pinochet andthe Faulklands and in the end it´s just better to realize thatArgentina and Chile are on two separate planets.Stranger still, the Chileans that I knew never talked politics about Argentina.  Their complaints were far more trivial.After three months with my Chilean dad and I learned how to makea pisco sour, that Chile is the best country on earth, and that ¨allthe Argentinians are gay.¨ His well researched and thought-out argumentwas that 1. the men all kiss each other on the cheek to say hello (inChile they only shake hands) and 2.  the seat of the government,La Casa Rosada, is pink (La Casa Rosada literally means ¨The PinkHouse¨) so they must all be gay.  And of course while those things were said in play only, there was definitely strong Chilean nationalism behind it.Other friends I had made fun of the ¨funny¨ Argentinian accent, howthey say ¨plashya¨ instead of ¨playa¨ and ¨eshya¨ instead of¨ella¨.  Of course if I ever once said that I thought the accentwas actually quite lovely and far easier to understand than the Chileanone, I don´t think I´d have anymore Chilean friends...Of course they Chileans will always point out the economy.  TheChilean is far stronger than the Argentinian although Argentina is backon the rise.  But as far as looking for work goes, any Chileanwill tell me that I´m better off in Chile...For me, I´m indifferent.  Chile has some of the most beautifullandscapes in the world and Argentina, well they have some of the mostbeautiful people.  :)I headed back to Chile in a day or two and I do know that more thananything, I am going to miss the real coffee that they serve inArgentina.  For some reason that is completely unfathomable to me,Chile seems to think that powdered, instant Nescafe is an adequatesubstitute for a nice, piping hot shot of espresso.  But it´s just not.
]]> Strange Sightings — Various, Chile http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1169833920/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1169833920/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/planettammy/chile-2006/1169833920/tpod.html Mon, 04 Jun 2007 13:24:20 -0400 South American Sueños

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Various, Chile

While most things when visiting a foreign country are new, exciting and different, some things are just plain strange.  After four months in Latin America, I can say that I´ve definitely encountered a few of them. 1.  The Dog Gang RapeThe first experience happened in Valparaíso in December.  For lack of a better, less-marked term, it could accurately be described as a gang-rape of  a female dog.  There were nine boy dogs enclosing her in a circle on the main street of Valpo and she was doing her best to fend for herself.  One boy dog was mildly sucessful at protecting her, but it was definitely a struggle.  I watched the whole scene from my second story hostel room window.  This, however, was not the strangest part of this sad scene.  What I found so completely odd and obsessed over for a good twenty minutes, was the apparel of the ring leader.  I deduced that he had to be the ring leader because aside from his clear dominance and complete devotion to the task of barking away other dogs and humans that might interfere in the event and the fact that the other dogs yielded their turn at the lady dog to him, he was wearing a scarf.  And not just any scarf, but a black and white striped scarf with fringe that was meticulously tied around his neck with the loop knot and everything.  So while the poor lady dog was being abused and violated, all I could think about was how that scarf got on the dog´s neck. Was he able to tie his own scarfs or had some Chilean trickster decided to put the scarf on the dog? And why was he even wearing a scarf when it was 90 degrees out anyway? And was it because he was wearing the scarf that the other dogs respect and let him be the leader?  Did the scarf have a royalty property in the world of dog?  Was I watching a twisted dog version of Animal Farm?Unfortunately, I never did get a chance to ask the dog how he got the scarf as the scene was just too depressing and dogs don´t talk anyway. 2.  The Rainbow WeddingThe second event was strange because of it´s location, not so much because of what took place.  A couple friends and I were walking through Concepción through the Plaza de Armas (which is the main plaza in every Chilean city) to our favorite cafe when we heard the wedding march.  On weekends there is usually quite a bit going on in the Plaza so we didn´t find it unusual to see a large gathering of people.  Carnivals, protests, artesan fairs and Santa sittings are all just part of the plaza´s bustle.  But our curiosity had risen and we meandered over to find a tall thin woman in a black dress and white veil walking slowly yet purposefully toward her finacé, a shorter woman in a black slacks with tears of joy running down her face.  Rainbow flags were flying at half-mast and thus began a beautiful ceremony where they pledged love to each other and sealed it with a kiss, whereas of course I cried as I have seemed to have made a habit of doing at every wedding I have ever been to.But what was so intriguing about this wedding was not the wedding itself, but that it took place in a public square in Chile, arguably the most conservative country in Latin America.  Even my housemate, bless his heart, came home from the hairdresser one night where to his dismay, he was alone in a room with ¨5 gays!¨ I don´t know if he thought the were going to hold him down and kiss him or just sprinkle gay pixie dust on him, but he was clearly concerned.  At the wedding´s end, the two women stood up and gave very eloquent speeches to a very receptive crowd and emphasized that even though what they were doing wasn´t the social norm, they were still humans and deserved to be in love.  While the wedding had no legal distinction in Chile, of all the protesting that I have witnessed down here, this one was by far the most beautiful. 3.  El Gato Loro My eyes were droopy and my brain was slow as I crawled off a twelve hour bus ride from Buenos Aires to Mendoza, Argentina.  It was about 10:30 in the morning and already at least 85 degrees.  It was a welcome change, however, as I had been so cold on the bus the night before that I had actually wrapped myself up burrito-style in the newspaper that I´d been reading.Thus began my usual new city routine, get my backpack, search for an internet cafe, find hostel.  When I´d gotten about a block away from the bus terminal, however, I encountered the strangest man I´d yet to see in Argentina.He was dark-haired and clean shaven, maybe late 40s early 50s with small dark eyes and a pointy chin.  He was rather short as well, but none of those reasons were why I noticed him.It was because I was across the street focused on my cafe search when I heard a cat meow.  And not just a friendly meow, but the cat-in-heat or the cat-just-got-hit-by-car type of screeching meow that crawls under your skin and bites like a leech.I looked over to where the sound came from, expecting to behold a cat splattered across the road with a car speeding away when to my utter dismay, the dark haired, middle aged man made eye contact with me and let out a bellowing ¨MEEEOOOOWWW¨ and shook a large canvas bag that had a fluffy cat tail attached to the bottom.  The bag said ¨GATO LORO¨ (cat parrot) and it looked like he was trying to sell stickers with cats on them as part of the gig.I´m sure he saw the look of complete shock on my face and he just smiled and then twisted his mouth to the side and meowed a bit more.  He didn´t say an intelligible word, only meows.  I hurried away just as quickly as I could and tried to absorb what I´d just saw.I continued to think about the incident for a few days and when I finally got up enough courage to go back and find out what he was selling, how lucrative the meowing business was, if he had a family, and countless other questions that were nagging at me, he had gone.  I´d seen him 3 times in those 2 days on various trips to the bus terminal, but I seems as though the meowing ´Cat Parrot´ takes the weekends off.  
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