This day was definitely a highlight of the trip! We went skiing at Valle Nevado, which was beautiful and amazing, and fantastic, until Dad realized his foot wouldn´t let him ski. That was a bummer.
To get there we used a bus service up the mountain, which was really a great way to go. I don´t know if we got lucky with the service I chose, or if we had an awesome driver, but I have to tell you, we passed at least 20 cars stranded on the side of the rode, unable to drive through the snow, and our driver was just zipping by, passing everyone we came along. I did think we were going to fall off the mountain at points, and I think we all were a little motion sick by the end, but the journey was almost as entertaining as the actual mountain!
The snow was absolutely fantastic! It was powdery, and incredibly fast, and I swear anyone could be a good skier on Chilean snow. I felt like a duck in water, it was all beautiful and breathtaking, and honestly just overwhelming. Unfortunately Dad couldn´t make past one run, and he was pretty upset about it, but I was still able to make a few runs, and managed to meet someone from New York, which I found amusing. I have to say I almost forgot what it´s like to ski on a real mountain, where the lift takes 10 minutes and you have to ski miles down the mountain. But it was phenomenal. Anyone who loves to ski HAS to come to Chile, their snow absolutely can´t be beat.
Sunday, July 27
Day 3: La Chascona
Now, we had been planning on going skiing, but were told it was going to rain, which of course it did. But that meant we got to go to one of the places I was really looking forward to!
La Chascona is Pablo Neruda´s third home in Chile. La Chascona translates literally as crazy haired woman, and was so named after his third wife, Matilde, who is generally considered the love of his life. She had crazy wild red hair, thus the name. He also has a house in Valparaíso, and one in Isla Negra as well, which are both on the coast of Chile. I have to admit, Dad was not so excited, probably because he had never heard of Pablo Neruda before, which I honestly find amazing, because of his nobel prize and the fact that he is considered by many the best poet ever, if not the 20th century, and is widely respected for his strong communistic ideals.
I actually have loved Neruda since we studied poetry in high school, where I was first introduced to the beauty of his poems. He is one of the reasons I chose to come to Chile, as he often wrote fondly of the beauty of nature, which was obviously inspired by his homecountry.
Neruda loved the sea, and his house reflects this. It is built with very short cielings and narrow corridors to mimic a ship, with portholes and secret rooms, and even creaking floors, specially built to mimic the creaking of a ship deck. He was a pack rat, and being an ambassador to so many countries he had quite the collection, from Russian dolls, to enlarged shoes, to paintings. My favorite painting was by the husband of Frida, who is Diego Rivera I believe? I´ll check after I post to make sure. It was of Matilde, but two forms of her face, one profile, and one face on, representing the two stages of their relationship, when she was his mistress and then once they were mairried. A profile of Neruda himself is hidden in her hair. It´s quite beautiful, and a little haunting.
Although my dad was skeptical at first, he really enjoyed our trip! He got into it, asking lots of questions, wanting to know about Neruda´s politics and Pinochet, and all sorts of interesting stuff. The rain didn´t allow us to do much for the rest of the day, but La Chascona was wonderful!
La Chascona is Pablo Neruda´s third home in Chile. La Chascona translates literally as crazy haired woman, and was so named after his third wife, Matilde, who is generally considered the love of his life. She had crazy wild red hair, thus the name. He also has a house in Valparaíso, and one in Isla Negra as well, which are both on the coast of Chile. I have to admit, Dad was not so excited, probably because he had never heard of Pablo Neruda before, which I honestly find amazing, because of his nobel prize and the fact that he is considered by many the best poet ever, if not the 20th century, and is widely respected for his strong communistic ideals.
I actually have loved Neruda since we studied poetry in high school, where I was first introduced to the beauty of his poems. He is one of the reasons I chose to come to Chile, as he often wrote fondly of the beauty of nature, which was obviously inspired by his homecountry.
Neruda loved the sea, and his house reflects this. It is built with very short cielings and narrow corridors to mimic a ship, with portholes and secret rooms, and even creaking floors, specially built to mimic the creaking of a ship deck. He was a pack rat, and being an ambassador to so many countries he had quite the collection, from Russian dolls, to enlarged shoes, to paintings. My favorite painting was by the husband of Frida, who is Diego Rivera I believe? I´ll check after I post to make sure. It was of Matilde, but two forms of her face, one profile, and one face on, representing the two stages of their relationship, when she was his mistress and then once they were mairried. A profile of Neruda himself is hidden in her hair. It´s quite beautiful, and a little haunting.
Although my dad was skeptical at first, he really enjoyed our trip! He got into it, asking lots of questions, wanting to know about Neruda´s politics and Pinochet, and all sorts of interesting stuff. The rain didn´t allow us to do much for the rest of the day, but La Chascona was wonderful!
Day 2: Santa Lucía and Canadian TV
So the second day of my dear father´s visit we did a few things. We first of all met and had breakfast at a little café near him, of which there were many. I then took him to climb my favorite cerro, Santa Lucía. I love that place, and luckily, my dad loved it too! Of course, I think I may have almost killed him, especially considering he had his hurt foot, but I kept asking if he wanted to stop! And he did great. Unfortunately it was pretty foggy, so we didn´t get the spectacular view I got on my first trip to the top.
Afterwards, the father was pretty pooped, so we went back to his hotel, where he promptly fell asleep, and I got to watch Canadian television. I can´t even remember all the movies I watched, like the one about the boy who almost won the Boston marathon and couldn´t stop masturbating in the pool, or the Canadian secret service which made no money whatsoever. However, they were surprisingly funny, and I no longer think Canada is good for nothing but caribou, so I feel our rest time had a purpose.
That night we went to dinner at R, a great restaurant where I had probably the most delicious spinach and mushroom omelette of my entire life! The ambience is beautiful, and our waiters were very nice and helpful, I would absolutely reccomend it to anyone looking for a relaxing dinner.
Afterwards, the father was pretty pooped, so we went back to his hotel, where he promptly fell asleep, and I got to watch Canadian television. I can´t even remember all the movies I watched, like the one about the boy who almost won the Boston marathon and couldn´t stop masturbating in the pool, or the Canadian secret service which made no money whatsoever. However, they were surprisingly funny, and I no longer think Canada is good for nothing but caribou, so I feel our rest time had a purpose.
That night we went to dinner at R, a great restaurant where I had probably the most delicious spinach and mushroom omelette of my entire life! The ambience is beautiful, and our waiters were very nice and helpful, I would absolutely reccomend it to anyone looking for a relaxing dinner.
Wednesday, July 23
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
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
Father came for a visit!
I know, I´ve been a bad blogger once again! But this time I have a really good excuse.
My dad came to visit! We had a great time, did some skiing, ate at some great restaurants, went south on a road trip and climbed a volcanic mountain. It was some really good times. I´m obviously going to post on everything individually, but just thought I´d put this out there until the rest came!
My dad came to visit! We had a great time, did some skiing, ate at some great restaurants, went south on a road trip and climbed a volcanic mountain. It was some really good times. I´m obviously going to post on everything individually, but just thought I´d put this out there until the rest came!
Tuesday, July 8
Quarterlife Crisis?
Ok, I know. I´ve been a bad blogger. I haven´t been keeping up for about a week. Bad Jessica.
But I feel I am in the middle of an identity crisis. To be honest, I am very confused about many things in my life. However, these are things I´ve never been sure of, and one of the reasons I took this year off was to focus on developing a sense of self. I feel secure in my core, but simple things like, what political party do I belong to, are things I simply don´t know. I feel I´m always busy running from step to step in my life that I never spent time figuring out the answers to seemingly negligible, but still defining questions. I´m not going to go into them all now, because I simply don´t have the mental faculty to right now, I´m quite exhausted from my soul searching.
So what is the point of this whole deal? I´m confused. About a lot. And the thing is, I knew I was confused before I came on this trip. And yet, now that I finally have time to confront myself, I find my confusion and lack of knowledge bother me immensely. I have realized I don´t know all that much. I´ve always wanted to go in search of answers. It is the reason I have such a passion for science, and why I for so long wanted to be a researcher. It is why I will go into science even though we all know I have a better head for business. But it´s more than just facts I want to know. It is life. It is to know the art of living.
I´ve begun a knew kind of journal, to simply keep track of all the thoughts that have begun pounding through my head from day to day. I feel my year off is in search of something; but this search has no end-point, no desitination. I simply want to push myself in my search, and not stop. I feel there is so much to be discovered. So much to do and to see and to know. I feel such a raw power in life, in living, and I want to really feel the beauty of it. I think I could do this in medical school or Africa, or anywhere else for the matter, but I have a tendency to get too wrapped up in tangibles.
Now I have come upon the opposite problem. I feel I have become wrapped up inside of me. I feel that I am at the brink of the next stage in my life, and I have so many opportunities! And yet I feel I have so little time. This is one of many contridictions I deal with each day. I often feel I am a walking contradiction, but then I wonder if this is due to my confusion, or the fact that life is simply not that 2-dimensional. This year off, it is time to live. I have spent so much time on a means to an end, I need a way to jar myself back into living.
I feel I´m thinking all these wonderful things, like I´m finally determining what is really important, and yet I´m frustrated by my own mortality. I feel so inadequate to be thinking big thoughts. I feel that I am simply a child trying to feel important, and I´m thinking nothing special, simply ordinary thoughts making up one more coming of age story. I feel so young, so aware of the possibilities for my life, and I feel overwhelmed by them. Whether or not my observations are original, they are new for me, and vital to my growth. And they´re intensity is overwhelming me. The hardest part is I do not wish for an end, for some defining clause, because I don´t believe there is one. There is always more, higher, farther, and I don´t want to impose limits on myself. But that doesn´t mean I don´t struggle with the meaning. But I suppose the meaning is what you make of it.
I´m not sure any of this makes sense, but it seems to be an important part of my journey while here, and I wanted it documented. I promise to post more Chile specific related things soon!
But I feel I am in the middle of an identity crisis. To be honest, I am very confused about many things in my life. However, these are things I´ve never been sure of, and one of the reasons I took this year off was to focus on developing a sense of self. I feel secure in my core, but simple things like, what political party do I belong to, are things I simply don´t know. I feel I´m always busy running from step to step in my life that I never spent time figuring out the answers to seemingly negligible, but still defining questions. I´m not going to go into them all now, because I simply don´t have the mental faculty to right now, I´m quite exhausted from my soul searching.
So what is the point of this whole deal? I´m confused. About a lot. And the thing is, I knew I was confused before I came on this trip. And yet, now that I finally have time to confront myself, I find my confusion and lack of knowledge bother me immensely. I have realized I don´t know all that much. I´ve always wanted to go in search of answers. It is the reason I have such a passion for science, and why I for so long wanted to be a researcher. It is why I will go into science even though we all know I have a better head for business. But it´s more than just facts I want to know. It is life. It is to know the art of living.
I´ve begun a knew kind of journal, to simply keep track of all the thoughts that have begun pounding through my head from day to day. I feel my year off is in search of something; but this search has no end-point, no desitination. I simply want to push myself in my search, and not stop. I feel there is so much to be discovered. So much to do and to see and to know. I feel such a raw power in life, in living, and I want to really feel the beauty of it. I think I could do this in medical school or Africa, or anywhere else for the matter, but I have a tendency to get too wrapped up in tangibles.
Now I have come upon the opposite problem. I feel I have become wrapped up inside of me. I feel that I am at the brink of the next stage in my life, and I have so many opportunities! And yet I feel I have so little time. This is one of many contridictions I deal with each day. I often feel I am a walking contradiction, but then I wonder if this is due to my confusion, or the fact that life is simply not that 2-dimensional. This year off, it is time to live. I have spent so much time on a means to an end, I need a way to jar myself back into living.
I feel I´m thinking all these wonderful things, like I´m finally determining what is really important, and yet I´m frustrated by my own mortality. I feel so inadequate to be thinking big thoughts. I feel that I am simply a child trying to feel important, and I´m thinking nothing special, simply ordinary thoughts making up one more coming of age story. I feel so young, so aware of the possibilities for my life, and I feel overwhelmed by them. Whether or not my observations are original, they are new for me, and vital to my growth. And they´re intensity is overwhelming me. The hardest part is I do not wish for an end, for some defining clause, because I don´t believe there is one. There is always more, higher, farther, and I don´t want to impose limits on myself. But that doesn´t mean I don´t struggle with the meaning. But I suppose the meaning is what you make of it.
I´m not sure any of this makes sense, but it seems to be an important part of my journey while here, and I wanted it documented. I promise to post more Chile specific related things soon!
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