Every day, I am greeted by a barrage of Chilean idiosyncrasies to which I just cannot bring myself to adapt, specifically the friendly lack of punctuality. Some days, it’s frustrating, but last week it saved my life.
But let me start from the beginning.
On Friday, a group of exchange students and I went to Santiago, Chile’s capital and largest city. There, we took a break from trying to blend in with our native classmates and were tourists for the day. We visited La Moneda, the presidential palace, and watched the changing of the guard. Afterward, we went to Cerro Santa Lucia, a big hill in the middle of the city with a great view. We followed this with a visit to an artisanal market, where I bought an alpaca sweater. (It’s so soft that I may never wear wool again.)
A great day became even greater when I got a literal taste of home at La Costanera, the biggest mall in South America. Though we didn’t have much shopping time before catching the homeward-bound bus, my Taco Bell and Starbucks fix made me so happy it didn’t even matter.
Of course, we forgot that it was Friday rush hour in a city bigger than Los Angeles, so navigating the metro back to the bus station was stressful, to say the least. Running late, we had to sprint across the Alameda, the city’s busiest and widest street, to get to the bus stop on time — not the best mix with Starbucks and Taco Bell.
Our bus was scheduled to leave at 6:20 p.m. We got there at 6:22. Though a near constant lack of punctuality is frustrating, we only made it because Chilean transportation is more relaxed.
When most people think of South America, a bustling metropolis is not always what comes to mind. Santiago, however, is just that. With the tallest buildings on the continent, the Santiago skyline is dwarfed by the Andes mountains that loom in the distance. With the hustle and bustle of downtown, the dirt and grime of Queens, and the vibrant colors of SoHo, Santiago is just like New York, albeit with a little Latin flair. Actually, make that a lot of Latin flair.
Santiago lies in stark contrast to Easter Island, another of my recent experiences. This tiny, remote and barren island in the South Pacific is home to less than 5,000 permanent residents and is administered as a Chilean territory. Best known for its Moai statues, it receives more than 15 times that in tourists every year. Why? Isla de Pascua, or Rapa Nui as it is called by the indigenous residents, has a sort of magic to it, and I had the opportunity to experience that firsthand.
Though it shares a cultural heritage with other Polynesian islands, such as Hawaii, Easter Island is not a tropical paradise. When I was shivering in the icy rain at the upper lip of a volcanic crater, huddled with exchange students from France, Germany and Holland like penguins, the only place I wanted to be was St. Augustine Beach in July.
What it lacks in beaches and sun, however, it makes up for in mystery. The Moai statues are everywhere. There are hundreds of heads strewn across the island, though, unfortunately, many are no longer standing. These that you see in the ground are actually much bigger than they appear, with their bodies buried below.
Home to the driest deserts, the longest coastline, bustling cities and remote islands, Chile is a land of extremes. Of course, I am extremely happy to call it my home.
*Also published in the St. Augustine Record.
