21 January 2018
Vuelta
Loyal readers of this blog will recall that I spent 6 months in Chile's capital in 2011, managing a project for my employer and using any spare time to discover bits of this diverse country and its people.
This marked my first return to Santiago since, and the first time I experienced the city at the height of the southern hemisphere's summer, which made for the stark contrast in climate to Montréal's icy winter. I eagerly expected the heat, packing my bathing suit and sunglasses.
What I didn't expect was the strange sense of wistfulness that took hold of me pretty much from the moment I got into a taxi at the airport. From the smell in the air (no, not the jet fuel!) to the Chilean accent of the taxista, things seemed so familiar. Later that day, as I strolled down the streets of Providencia, I reacquainted myself with many of the stores and cafés I used to go patronize. Soon, I sat on a shady patio munching away on empanadas de pino and drinking a cold Austral.
Nostalgia didn't cloud my vision enough not to notice that the city has progressed remarkably. There was an gigantic new shopping mall at the foot of South America's tallest tower. The parque metropolitano had a new cable car, and new signage throughout. And the eco-certified office building which just broke ground in 2011 was now the location of my client meetings. Yes, Chile has done well in the meantime.
So what about myself, I inevitably started wondering as I sipped a Pisco Sour in the warm evening light. The boundless enthusiasm and optimism of 2011 have given way to a more cautious realism. I have changed roles twice, but not employer. I am still in Canada, but now as as citizen, rather than a temporary worker. I may have grown a bit wiser, but probably also more cynical (the depressing sight of the former site of our Chilean office, long-since shuttered, didn't help). Much like to the Pisco, there was a touch of bitterness to it.
But bitter goes with sweet, and not just in the chocolate araucano ice cream that rounded off my dinner. I have also found companionship, and the continued privilege of roaming the globe (including a trip to the Chilean-administered Easter Island in 2013).
Still, when I left Santiago after an all-too quick return visit, I did so with a sense that the city had advanced more in the last 6 years than I had.
Sub-zero temperatures awaited me back in Canada, freezing everything solid. But just like I to Santiago, spring will eventually make a comeback to Montréal. And with it, things will start to flow again...
# posted by Oli : 17:14
23 May 2013
Moai
Arriving on the tiny speck of land, a 24x12 km outcrop of volcanic rock half-way between Chile and Tahiti, one immediately realizes that this place is something else. The dreamy little village of Hanga Roa has been spared mass tourism, and only a few tenacious travellers (and a bunch of frequent flyers on an impossibly cheap fare sale, I hear) mingle with the Rapa Nui, as the islanders call themselves.
Even today, life feels precarious, with the population dependent on twice-weekly food delivery planes from Chile, and the odd supply ship for anything else - from toilet paper to power generators. This adds to the sense of adventure, and makes you appreciate the extreme conditions under which the island has been populated.
It could have been as early as the 13th century, explained our tour guide, when the first Polyneasian settlers arrived on the island, which they found lush and fertile. Their population quickly grew, and with time a unique culture formed. The Rapa Nui considered themselves the Navel of the world, with nothing but an endless ocean surrounding them. And so, with nowhere to go, and no foreign influence for centuries, they turned their energy and strive to an inwards-focused culture, the most visible result of which are the iconic Moai - the mysterious stone-faced statues that have become a symbol for the end of the world.
Seeing them for the first time leaves you with a sense of having arrived at the final frontier, and the mystery of how they were built and transported will intrigue even the most rational of minds. For the past 150 years, various archeological field studies have explored the island and have come up with several explanations for this unique culture, and its sudden demise. Our guide, himself part of a 1968 expedition, palpably described how western scientists tried to understand the place, and his stories of skeletons, spirits and cockroaches would be worthy of an Indiana Jones movie.
And although not typically prone to sudden attacks of mysticism, seeing the quary where half-finished moai await completion, and then the completed, rock-solid statues on pedestals kilometers away, left me deeply intrigued. Add to this hidden crater lakes, wind-swept arid planes and the incessant turquoise waves battering the cliffs, and it makes for a truly outlandish getaway. The "Star Trek planet of the week" image came to mind more than once - even Spock would have found it fascinating.
If anything, there was only one disappointment on this trip: Despite relentless search, I couldn't find a single chocolate Easter Bunny!
# posted by Oli : 13:59
05 November 2011
Bonheur
It's been about a week since I've returned to Montréal from Chile (with a little side-trip to Spain thrown in for good measure), and with a bit of both geographical as well as temporal distance, I can now look back on my time south of the equator.Quite an experience it undoubtedly was. Culturally, linguistically, meteorologically and professionally, Chile was markedly different from what I had been used to, creating an interesting personal challenge. As time went by, I started to adapt to the new circumstances and learned to appreciate some of the Chilean ways - from the more fluid notion of time (sacrilege to the Swiss) to the importance of relationship over speediness (counterintuitive to the Canadians), it was rewarding to see that different means can lead to equally good ends.
With their warm, cordial attitude, my Chilean colleagues quickly became my friends as well - which was particularly important as during my five months in the country, I did not have the chance to reach out beyond my work mates. It was this the curse of the assignment: Long enough to feel a bit lost, but not long enough to build a proper social network as a cure.
As such, it was with mixed feelings that I left the country: Sad to leave new friends and further interesting destinations behind, but equally happy to return home. And during the past week, Québec got me with a vengeance. From colorful slang swearing about the poor roads the buses trundle on (corruption, you say??), ritual throwing up of hands at the first snowflakes, lavish selection of autumnal delecacies at the local marché, to hallway talk about the lackadaisical performance of the Habs - it all felt warmly familiar, and it put a smile on my face as I transitioned back into my Canadian routine.
So tonight, I will pair some fromage lait cru québécois with a nice bottle of Chilean carménère, smear manjar onto some biscuits, marvel at photos taken in the past five months, including the one now etched into my brand-new Canadian Permanent Resident card, and it will be...
le bonheur, ¿cachai?
Labels: Canada, Chile, culture, work
# posted by Oli : 11:17
24 October 2011
Hasta la vista
Today, the moment to say goodbye to Chile, and to return to the frosty climates up north, has at last arrived. Sitting here at the airport, waiting for my flight to depart, I am in two minds. Sad to leave a place where I have been very warmly welcomed and which I would enjoy exploring more, but at the same time happy to return to the place I've worked hard to make my home.
So, pending a more distanced look back on the last few months, I'll leave you with two videos encapsulating my current state of mind:
and
So, pending a more distanced look back on the last few months, I'll leave you with two videos encapsulating my current state of mind:
and
# posted by Oli : 21:07
04 October 2011
Atacama
The contrast could not have been more stark. Less than a month ago, I was visiting one of the wettest spots on earth. This weekend, I found myself in the most arid desert on earth: The Atacama in northern Chile. Amongst the many attractive destinations the country has to offer, I prioritized this spectacular place for one of the few weekend outings I can squeeze in. I had expected it to be different from anything I had seen before, and I was not disappointed.From the moment the plane touched down on a sandy airstrip near a giant copper mine, I felt like I was visiting another planet. Had I arrived on Tatooine? Sand as far as the eyes can see, bizarre rock formations, barren ridges, dusty trails and hardly a shrub lined the road to San Pedro de Atacama, the oasis town that has grown from a small trading post into the hub of tourist activity for the region. Today, its compact center of adobe huts seems to host only tour agencies, eateries and handicrafts merchants, with gringo visitors duly shuffling from one to another.
With the sun beating down, I felt it wise to apply a generous layer of sunscreen before joining them, and as I reached for my bottle of lotion, I found it so bloated it was about to burst, thanks to the change in air pressure from Santiago to this 2500m desert valley. Yet this was only the beginning: The Andean altiplano was calling.
Spoilt for choice but pressed for time, I opted for a tour that took me out into the vast salt pan (something I only knew from an iconic Orange commercial), where flamingos waded through the brine. Pictures taken, our little van stuttered upwards past roaming vicuñas to reach the crystal clear twin lagoons of Miscanti and Miñiques, some 4200m above sea level. In the absence of any precipitation, what would be an icy wonderland in the alps presented itself in its sheer barren beauty here, with the volcanos of the Andes gently puffing away in the background. Climbing up a little boulder, I immediately felt the shortness of breath, but sitting down on a rock, taking in the panorama and snacking on the summit supply of Ragusa, I decided that this was mountaineering to my taste.
In comparison with these sky-high adventures, the following day's bike ride through a desolate canyon named valle de la muerte, at a mere 2500m, seemed like a cream puff. Armed with nothing more than a bottle of water, a pocket knife and a mobile phone without signal, I pedaled off into the wilderness. With the tour groups not scheduled to hit this spot until much later in the day, I was soon completely alone in the overwhelming landscape. The silence, solitude and big sky felt liberating and meditative at first, but as the sun rose and the water level my bottle sank, I increasingly started contemplating the significance of the de la muerte bit in the area's name. Hmm, what if....
I abruptly turned around and cycled back to civilization. Being squeezed in with the crowds at the back of a plane never felt quite so reassuring as it did that night.
# posted by Oli : 13:33
21 September 2011
Chilenidad
National holidays offer a condensed and exaggerated version of a country's self-perception, and given that I only spend a limited amount of time in Chile, I was grateful to be able to witness its fiestas patrias. Before you ask: No, the plural is not a sign of my poor Spanish skills, but testimony to the fact that Chile indeed has two consecutive national days: The first one, el dieciocho, marks independence from the Spanish crown, 201 years ago on September 18, whereas the following day is officially known as the Día de las Glorias del Ejército.Now, in a country which has lived under a military dictatorship for 17 years, you would think that the public sees its former oppressors with a bit of apprehension, to say the least. And you would be wrong, for the armed forces are very much present during the annual celebrations. When I arrived at the city park in which the fiesta de la chilenidad was held on a sunny spring Sunday, I was handed a schedule of events packed with various army presentations, from historical battle reenactments to demonstrations by paratroopers and special assault forces. Being used to two countries in which the armed forces are usually told to stay camouflaged, seeing the troops show off clearly marked a change. Benefiting from an enthused crowd, roaming recruiters even handed me a glossy enlistment brochure (I did not qualify, and not just on nationality grounds).
Thus shocked and awed, I was relieved to find that chilenidad was not limited to goose-stepping. Another important dieciocho tradition, also frequently celebrated out in the countryside by families, are lavish barbeque feasts. At the venue I visited, the air was think with woodsmoke, as copious amounts of beef and pork were roasted over fire, often entire animal halves rotisserie-style or on a spear. I was thrilled to parttake, and enthusiastic asadores were proudly explaining the various cuts and preparation styles to me. Stuffed, it took serious effort to stumble over to the sweets vendors, where the piles of hand-made alfajores con manjar prove just too hard to resist.
Unsurprisingly, between the meat, sugar and a treacherous concoction called terremoto, I was in a bit of the daze by the time I struggled past the petting zoo with exotic animals such as peacocks, llamas and alpacas, circled around the rodeo arena, gazed at the countless Chilean-flag kites in the skies and eventually decided to head home for a nap - which turned out to last until the next morning. Rumor has it, indeed, that it is this feeling of merry satiety, rather than the army's countless glories, which explains why September 19 is another day off. Viva!
Labels: Chile
# posted by Oli : 18:34
02 August 2011
Villa Alemana
It was only six o'clock, and I was still perfectly sober, albeit on my way to a local watering hole to meet a German co-worker. But when that big noisy fire engine zoomed past me on a busy Santiago street, I could barely believe my eyes. Across the front of the fire truck, big block letters proclaimed FEUERWEHR. Was I hallucinating?I was not, confirmed my colleague when I reached the bar. I had merely witnessed another rescue mission of Santiago's own Deutsche Feuerwehrkompanie, It was just another example of the skills, sense of duty and cultural heritage the countless Germanic immigrants had brought to Chile. After all, as we talked, we extinguished our thirst drinking Kunstmann cerveza, which is brewed in the southern Lakes District. According to Condor, the German language weekly, this region with its vales and dales and trails closely resembles Bavaria. That was enough to make me plan my excursions to any other place.
This weekend, it was the turn of the pittoresque seaside twins of Valparaiso and Viña del Mar, where I was seeking some respite from the city's smog. Fortunately, they are only a 90 minute bus ride from Santiago, so I only needed one sandwich and one Laugenstange from my local bakery, Pasteleria Alemana Roggendorf, for the ride.
As the bus made its way west towards the Pacific, just past the exit to Villa Alemana, the last inevitable sign of German immigration appeared on the horizon: car salesmen. The large and shiny Mercedes dealership along the
Labels: Chile, culture, language
# posted by Oli : 22:23
20 July 2011
Corte
When it comes to personal care, we tend to be particularly picky, and once we have found a skilled individual we trust, we usually stay very loyal - no miles incentive needed. People are willing to drive to another city for the annual check-up with their family doctor, or, as in my case, plan a dentist appointment for when they visit the old home overseas.But there are some things that just can't wait, and with the photo session for my new passport imminent, I found myself in need of a haircut. Finding a barbershop is not difficult: The galeria de tiendas next to our Santiago office counts at least a dozen of them. Walking past them, though, I became a victim of choice overload: Should I opt for the dimly lit discount store? The young and hip salon with the girls in heels and skirts? Or the chain franchise that also offers nail care and, gulp, waxing?
As I was roaming the alleys, I ran into a Kiwi and a German workmate, both of whom have been living in Chile for many years. Over a beer, I introduced them to my dilemma. They were not helpful. "Do you know that all it takes to become a barber in this country is to pick up a pair of scissors?" said one. "I'd wait until I was back in Canada" added the other. And had I ever thought about keeping my hair in braids? Ah, how good it is to get local scoop.
Slightly annoyed, and emboldened by the caña, I got up and walked straight into the next best barber's, where I was welcomed by a friendly and seemingly down-to-earth woman. As she directed me to a rather basic stool, I could not help but notice that she was pregnant. I took it as a good omen, since she clearly had enough returning customers to give her the confidence of starting a family. And then came the question I had dreaded: ¿Cómo cortamos?
Short, was my answer, in both senses of the word, for the elaborate vocabulary of a Spanish figaro was far beyond my capabilities. But the scissors-wielding lady acknowledged with a smile, and started chopping away. Only minutes later, a substantial amount of hair had migrated from my head down into my shirt, and a mirror was put behind my head to showcase the craftsmanship applied. It left no doubt: This was very much a corte!
As I tipped my new hairdresser, it occured to me that her child will almost be a teenager by the time her masterpiece will expire along with my new passport. And no matter how short she cut, by then I will be wishing to have this much hair left!
# posted by Oli : 21:25
19 June 2011
1, 2 oder 3...
...is the name of a TV quiz show for kids, which I loved dearly as a child glued to the tube. In the programme, kids from Germany, Austria and Switzerland have to answer questions by quickly selecting one of three possible responses. The ones making the right choice are instantly rewarded as the corresponding answer's light goes on and they get the appreciation they sought. The others face awkward questions by the quizmaster.One, two or three remains a tricky question in this grown-up's culturally transposed life. This week, in rapid succession, I went from one to two and three, not without the odd misstep here or there. And sure enough, I got the awkward questions in return. For this is a sensitive area with no margin for error. It is literally a touchy subject, where even small mistakes can suddenly imply much bigger intentions. More can sometimes mean less, but the opposite is also possible. As Facebook would put it, it's complicated.
In Chile, one is the generally appropriate, and very widely applied, answer. And one is to the left. The Canadians, trying to please both sides, opt for two. Yet they are much more selective. All good things seem to be three for the Swiss, but with a clear bias to the left, despite their professed neutrality. And with the gradual latinization of their urban culture, they have become much more forthcoming, sometimes to the surprise of older generations.
Coming to Canada from a culture of three, and then to Chile from a culture of two, I repeatedly produced moments of consternation by going for that one extra one - was I really looking for more? This week however, heading the other way, I kept several friends hanging on, lagging as I was one culture behind my current location. Friends in Montréal and Zurich raised their eyebrows - had they done something to offend me?
Ah, finding the right number is not always easy, but it is clearly worth the effort of trying. After all, what more touching could a friend give you than a gentle hug?
Letzte Chance, vorbei!
Labels: Canada, Chile, culture, Switzerland
# posted by Oli : 17:42
08 June 2011
Impression
"You never get a second chance to make a first impression", as popular wisdom has it. In the case of the Chilean capital, it had its chance with me some five years ago, when I first visited after several weeks of language immersion in sanguine and exuberant Buenos Aires. Compared to that, Santiago felt as orderly, wealthy and functional as many European cities would. I wondered why I had bothered to come at all.Now I'm back in town, and this time for a much longer time, and with a very different aim. Instead of sun, fun and nothing to do, I came to Chile with a mandate to work. And as I started to move into my tiny studio, realizing that "furnished" does not mean "ready to use", I was thankful for that oraganized and practical environment of Las Condes. This well-heeled Santiago neighborhood, where much of my life will take place, boasts several modern supermarkets which accept my credit card, a metro station, dry cleaners, a mega mall and even a large do-it-yourself store. The latter was particularly useful in creating a wired bypass around some dead outlets in my apartment. And the abundant, no nonsense cabs made bringing back my mini household prettystraight forward. No Porteño-style haggling required, thank you.
Once properly installed, I joined the throngs of people in their morning stride from the subway to the sleek office towers. Watching them, listening to their iPods and sipping Juan Valdez coffee in their charcoal Italian suits, they could have been on their way through the alleys of Manhattan or Frankfurt. Work is a serious affair here, and this translates into some of the world's longest office hours. Not what you'd expect for a Latin country, certainly.
The only people who seem to toil even more than the white collars must be the countless cleaners. Anywhere you look, somebody will be mopping, scrubbing, polishing, or picking leaves from the pavement (yes, it's autumn here). I can safely say that they put the Swiss to shame, seeing how today three different cleaners pushed their carts past my office door. Fortunately, so did one snack vendor, delivering freshly fried sopapillas directly to my desk. It is in the importance of food, and its social significance, that the Latin culture shines through. It was nice to be invited, as a matter of course, to join my new colleagues in their lunch breaks, which involve going out to a proper sit-down restaurant, rather than wolfing down a sandwich at your desk. And the work week usually ends with beers and games in the coffee room.
So while the first impressions may be of Germanic efficiency, time reveals a much more faceted and warm culture. It may seem trivial, but the fact that people hug or shake hands at work when they come and go acknowledges that we all spend more time with our colleagues than with our families. And the joy and curiosity with which the Santiaguinos engage this foreign visitor speaks of their openness. From my building's doorman to the elderly lady in the gym and the clerk in the department store, all are eager to chit chat. And they all seem puzzled by my Castellano's thick German-Argentine-English accent. Together with my name, on whose origin people have already placed bets, it apparently creates an intriguing impression as well. ;-)
All of this, and I haven't even left my neighborhood. But fear not - I firmly intend to go out explore some of this country's 6000km of variety when time allows. Each morning, as I watch the sun rise over the snow-capped cordillera while munching on my pan con manjar, I remind myself that sometimes, it's the second impression that counts.
# posted by Oli : 21:18
29 May 2011
Logistics
"Ich hab' noch einen Koffer in Berlin", I still have a suitcase in Berlin, is the title of a famous German song. If only it were so easy. As I type this, my belongings are spread over three countries, on three continents, and I plan to visit each of them over the next three weeks.The logistics of temporarily moving to one place, while maintaining primary residence in another and a pied-à-terre in a third are pretty daunting. First of all, which suitcase should go where? (Thanks to the TSA's silly rules, only the two of my bags are approved for travel through the US to Chile.) Then, what to fill the bags with? How many shirts go in each bag? Where will I require more formal, where more casual dress? How many pairs of underwear per country? Does this left sock in Canada match this right one in Switzerland? Which shoes will I need where? What type of adapter will which gadget need to work in each country? When, and where, will I have an opportunity to wash stuff? Who deserves which gift, from where, in what place? And, crucially, how can I make sure that my personal supply of chocolate is never interrupted?
Fortunately, Chile is heading into winter while the other two places are gearing up for summer, so that at least there is no competition for the tuque and winter coat right now. But then again, maybe I'll take a side trip to a Chilean beach resort in the north, or even Easter Island? So perhaps bring shorts and sandals after all? Or should I join my boss and go skiing in the Andes? Nah, those ski pants just don't fit in.
Any way I spin it, I'll be schlepping a lot of luggage to and fro over the next few weeks. Inevitably, I'll be having too much of some stuff, while sorely missing other items. I'll be trying to keep track of what I put where. And I'll be surprised to find things in the country I least expect it to be in. Of course, all of this is assuming that my baggage follows wherever I go. Should some airline, somewhere along the way, decide to send my bags on a different trajectory from their organizationally challenged owner, the logistical fun will reach entirely new heights. So maybe better stuff a few essentials into the carry-on trolley. Oh, but wait - which one? Aaargh!
Labels: Canada, Chile, Switzerland, travel
# posted by Oli : 17:43
15 May 2011
Discovery
Life sometimes unfolds in serendipitous ways. My off-the-cuff decision to spend a summer in Montréal to learn French turned out to be a key factor in my eventual moving there. And now, the other such immersion stay I've undertaken, in Argentina and Chile, leads into an extended stay in the latter.Thanks to a work assignment requiring an on-site project manager, the Chilean capital will host me for about five months starting in June, and the knowledge of having volunteered for this opportunity fills me to equal measure with excitement and anxiousness. After all, while I feel comfortable with the topics of the workday, I have spent far less time assessing life outside the office at the foot of the Andes than I did in Montréal before deciding to move there.
Fortunately, my assignment currently gives me the opportunity to spend a week in Santiago before actually settling in, with an aim to get to know both the people and project I'll be working for, as well as the city itself. And so far, I am impressed. Shiny glass + steel office buildings, filled with smartly dressed professionals sipping their cortados while tapping on their iPads, enormous shopping malls with every convenience one could wish for, an efficient subway far more modern than Montréals, and streets that feel both quiet and clean for Latin American standards make this seem a very liveable city. My forays have helped tick off some key checkboxes (Functioning ATM: check. - Locall cell phone: check. - Dry cleaner: check. - Alfajores con dulce de leche: check. ) although some others (public indoor pool: fail. - Fresh non-UHT milk: fail. - Affordable supplies of Swiss chocolate: fail.) will likely mean a temporary change of lifestyle. All of this is part of the deal, as will be living through a (mild) Southern Hemisphere winter during my assignment, before returning to Canada just in time for their cold season.
Going through my "city discovery" to-do list this weekend, I was surprised by the degree of routine I appear to have developed. After London and Montréal, this is the third city I will make "mine" in just over two years, and in the process I seem to have learned to cover my bases. But I've also added reference points: Santiago sports the diverse neighbourhoods and large parks of Montréal, and the stunning snow-capped backdrop of Zurich. And yet it is far away from both of these places, and the friends I have made in them. Moving to Chile means leaving two homes and two social networks behind, so it is comforting to know that my sojourn will be interrupted by several "home visits", as well as hopefully some friends making the trip to Santiago. This way, the next few months will hopefully let me live the best of three worlds!
# posted by Oli : 17:56
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