Father´s Epic-Day 1: Good food, Good ice cream, Perhaps too good wine

So, my father arrived quite early in the morning one thursday a few weeks ago. He was able to get a cab and take it to my place quite successfully, and even was able to ask the cab driver about Chilean beer. Their conversation went like this:
Padre: Cerveza? De chile? Bueno?
Cab driver: Cerveza de chile? (tone of incredulity) ehhhhh...

This was followed by who knows what because my father did not understand.

So we settled him into my place for the day, until he meandered his way down to Universidad Católica for lunch. I took him to Emporio La Rosa, which is of course a standard favorite of mine, and we each got a type of salad, and of course some ice cream afterward! I literally had to force him to let me ask for sample tastes because he refused to admit he might want to try something. I have determined that people in a foreign country often feel they are getting in the way of the people there who actually know what they´re doing, and thus even when it perfectly acceptable to ask a question or try something new, they don´t for fear of being a bother and looking stupid. I know I had that problem when I first got here, and it was odd for me to see my father that way as well.

The whole trip was a role reversal, since my father spoke none of the laguage, and relied on me for pretty much everything. Also, since he had hurt his foot, it made him even doubly in need of looking after and caring for, which turned me into a parent and him into a child. We decided it was good practice for the future in which he really will be dependent on me, and I will have to take care of my parents in a new fashion.

After lunch we found him a hotel for the night since his foot was hurting too badly for him to go hiking. We found a nice hotel, which of course spoke absolutely no english called Kapital, on the corner of Merced y Santa Lucía. Great rooms, very cute and cozy, but let me tell you, from my father´s experience, when you speak to people in english, even in hotels, THEY WILL NOT UNDERSTAND YOU. THE EFFORT IS FUTILE. A lesson I think my father managed to learn by the end of our trip, and one which would have probably made his life a whole lot harder if I hadn´t been there, and let´s face it, my spanish isn´t all that great to begin with.

That night we had dinner near where I work, at a restaurant called Patagonia. We went to a movie before this, but I think that movie deserves it´s own post. The restaurant was great, our waiter spoke english and actually his sister went to NYU (small world) and as we delighted on Chilean wine, the inevitable happened. My father and I started fighting. I will not go into the epic battle that raged that night, but let´s just say I think we both are going to pretend it never happened.

However, we did get to try the Caménère varietal of wine, which is delicious, and is a grape only found in Chile. It originally came from France, but a disease wiped out every single known plant, until a few were found growing in Chile! It is now carefully watched over and cultivated, and I gotta tell you, you gotta try it! If you wanna learn more, check out this wikipedia link
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carmenere