Out of the Wormhole, in Christchurch
It's not fair to compare Christchurch to anywhere-not fair to Christchurch and not fair to other places. That said, received, digested and ratified, there is an air of Seattle, or San Francisco, of Ushuaua, Argentina, of Stanley, Falkland Islands, of Reykjavik, of the...
Fonendoscopio, Pedaling the South Island of New Zealand
I'm leaving my house in about two hours to head to the airport. Some many, many hours later, I will reappear out of the wormhole in Christchurch, New Zealand. Christchurch! New Zealand! I know, I'm as surprised as you are.One of the main events on this trip, which, as...
Pre-trip winged insect whatnot, New Zealand on the brain
My coffee table is a jumble of desorden (disorderliness), cables and goretex and the occasional piece of paper with the word "cubrebotines" (shoe-covers, a biking thing) scribbled upon it. It is packing central, and it is the perfect metaphor for my brain, a giant...
Bike test kit and retro glasses (with photo!)
I spent last week at a friend's house in Maitencillo, one of the northern most towns on the litoral central. I am finally starting to understand which town is where, a feat better managed by mortals with far better geographical memory than I have. In order for me to...
This is what democracy looks like. Chile Elections, 2010, Sebastian Piñera
Chile is a democracy. That means that every four years, every single registered voter will get out to vote, or register their absence at a commisary (voting is compulsory here, unless you're dying or more than 200 km away or over a certain age). It's either a...
Saltos de Apoquindo, a Santiago hike for the public-transit minded
Sometimes you will invite people over to dinner, and during the course of the meal, you will unroll a giant, unweildy map you have on the country, and this will happen.And then, when you're least expecting it, someone will call you on the phone, and say, hey, let's go...
Porotos Granados! A vegetarian Chilean feast in pictures
If you are not, at this very second eating a hearty earthenware bowl full of the homey creamy Chilean potage, porotos granados, well then, I weep for you. Unless you are drinking a glass (yes, a glass, they're bigger) of iced coffee with cold-frothed milk, in which...
On loving Chile and the freakish chagual
A friend of mine, a podcaster, recently asked me to record a piece for her. I was alternately flattered and freaked out, overly confident and very nervous. I still haven't done it, so I guess now I'm just procrastinating a bit. The topic of the podcast is loving...
Here a locksmith, there a locksmith. On losing my keys in Santiago
Oh my God! is what someone shouted to me when I was leaping over a calf-high pile of discarded lettuce leaves today at the Vega. Except due to the Chilean vowel range, it sounded more like oh my Gott! in some kind of approximation of German. This is a term most...
On taking the bus pirata/pirate bus. A five-plus-year-old memory.
The first several weeks I spent in Chile were an exercise in figuring out just what was going on. It wasn't so much the language as the culture, in that I couldn't get why I had to go to a notary to rent an apartment (all contracts are legalized here, regardless of...
