Remembering Chile

In wake of the earthquake in Chile that literally rocked the earth, I decided to jot down a few memories of my short trip to Chile.

December 2001. I was at the end of my 6 month stay in Buenos Aires, Argentina, school had ended and I still had about 3 weeks before I had to return to the U.S. Being in South America and not knowing when I'd be back, I asked my parents if I could make a trip to Chile, after all I did have a cousin that was studying at the Catolica there, and when I mean cousin, I mean a real cousin, not a friend of a friend that us Latinos like to call cousins. I hadn't seen my cousin Ricardo in about 7-10 years. Last time I saw him he was in high school in Santa Barbara and I was a little kid still picking my nose. Nevertheless, he was there in Chile and had been there for almost 3 years. My mission, to try to find my cousin.

Arriving in Santiago de Chile was a bit of a shock to me. Not because of the climate or the infrastructure, simply the shock came when I asked a lady where I could find a public phone. When she responded, I could have sworn she was speaking in a different language. I had never heard the Chilean accent and it was as different as everyone had warned me. Once I got acclimated to their canto I phoned a friend of my parents, whom I obviously called tio (uncle, its a latino thing).

This friend of my parents, whom I had apparently met once in Tucson when he was in Phoenix on business and decided to come visit our house, surprisingly enough was not Chilean, he was actually from Puerto Rico, but had now lived in Chile several years after marrying his wife. I remember the first night sleeping in his home, which was outside of the city limits. For the life of me I couldn't sleep. It wasn't that I was scared, or tired, or uncomfortable, the problem was that it was too quiet. I had now been accustomed to the noise of the city in Bs. As. Constant cars driving, the city bus screeching its brakes and the occasional yell of people walking the streets after a late night at the bars. It was the quietest night I had ever had.

My week long stay always started out the same. Walk to the bus stop to catch it until it took me downtown. From 9-5, I would just wander the city. Looking at the buildings, people watch, try to write some poems in my travel journal and of course the occasional panic of getting lost in city. Santiago was a very pretty city. It wasn't as city-wise as Bs. As., which was a relief. For the past 6 months I had been surrounded by concrete, people and skyscrapers. It was nice to see trees and the beautiful mountain range of the Andes from any part of the city.

After three days of discovering why so many people had fallen in love with Santiago, I reassumed my mission to find Ricardo. The phone number my mom had given me to reach him was of course out-dated. I called with no avail, so the next step was to look in the white pages. Apparently Ricardo Sepulvedas is a popular name in Santiago as there were about 10 people with that name. Nevertheless, I began calling the numbers hoping he would answer. No luck, so I ventured to pick 3 houses to visit and knock on their door. If he wasn't one of those three, well I could say that I tried.

House #1, never found it. If fact I don't know if I copied it right, because the directions didn't make sense when I arrived in the neighborhood.

House #2, actually a fancy apartment building. I asked the doorman if he could show me the way to the apartment building and he was kind enough to show me the way. When I knocked, a pretty girl opened the door and I asked if Ricardo was home. Closing the door a little, enough to where I couldn't see her but could still hear her, she said: "Ricardo there is someone with a weird accent looking for you". When the man opened the door again. There he was my cousin Ricardo, surprised as hell to see me!! We gave each other a big hug and of course I gave him my explanation, but he just couldn't take his eyes off of me, like I had been raised from the dead.

In true older cousin fashion, he wanted to take me out on the town that night. I can honestly say that all I remember is taking a few shots of Pisco and game over, we had a great time and I ended up waking up on his couch hung-over as hell. I haven't seen my cousin since that morning that I left his apartment nor have I taken a shot of Pisco again. No gracias!!

Toward the end of my Chile trip, I visited the beautiful Viña del Mar. One of the most beautiful cities I have been too. No wonder the great Chilean poet Pablo Neruda found so much inspiration in this small town next to the pacific. I only spent a whole day there, but walking the beach and visiting the old building of the cities was so magical. It was a town captured by beauty.

It was the perfect way to end my trip to Chile. I loved everything about the country. The people, the culture, the food, everything was exceptional. I pray for the people of Chile that they may find peace in spite of such a tragic event.

El pueblo unido, jamas sera vencido!!