Santiago

I made it! After the months and weeks of preparing, and waiting, and then being so busy that the final approach of my departure snuck up on me before I could even catch my breath, I boarded the red-eye direct for Santiago. This after sitting distracted with anxious anticipation through Thanksgiving dinner, on account of the fact that I was leaving hit me for real maybe only an hour prior to the guests arriving, when I finally got around to making the necessary banking preparations.
And so: Santiago. Stayed at the Andes Hostel, which I recommend for its proximity to metro Bella Vista, Plaza de Armas, and Bellavista neighbourhood – which latter I didn’t get around to visiting and will have to hit when I’m back in the city in December. It was clean, it was spacious, it had a kitchen, and it was positively dominated by Brazilians, who glom onto each other more quickly and enthusiastically than any people I’ve ever seen. It was kind of hilarious to witness the progression from awareness to determined eavesdropping to confirmation of nationality to best-buds-for-life that took place when new arrivals entered the orbit of the Brasileros who were sharing my room. Somehow I was brought into the fold as well, despite speaking precisely two words of Portuguese (the not-to-be-confused “caipirinha” and “capoeira”), and to her credit one of my roommates did an excellent job of translating until well into the later stages of the evening.
As for the city itself, I found it shockingly easy to feel comfortable there. Granted, I confined myself to the historical centre, and even to a pretty small area within that, but it was cleaner, quieter, and prettier than I was led to believe. After the seriously overprogrammed lead-up to my departure, I made a point of taking it super easy in my first few days, and other than some semi-aimless wandering the only real site I visited was the superb Museo del Arte Precolombino. That place was awesome. 6000-year-old tiny little mummies from the northern desert, gorgeous ceramics from all over Latin America and all through pre-colonial times, and these extremely imposing large wooden statues, dramatically lit, whose spirits have no doubt doomed me eternally for having taken their photographs. Which, if that is the case, means I might as well share the result before the desert comes alive and claims me for its own once I get to San Pedro de Atacama.

Burial statues hanging tough in the Museo del Arte
Precolombino, Santiago de Chile.