Hanna’s Study Abroad Adventures

Check out my new photo albums under Blogroll.  Album 6 and on are new.  More are on there way.

March 30-April 7

Day 1:  Expense account # 1:  $183 for plane ticket, $14 for a sleeping pad, $30 for headlamp, $6 for water bottle that can take boiling water. 

Crowded metros, heavy backpacks, hidden busses, and broken cell phones all lead to a slightly stressful yet uneventful trip to the airport. 

Day 2:  We arrived in the city of Punta Arenas around 3am.  We had slept most of the plane ride, waking only for soggy turkey, lettuce, mayo, and white bread sandwiches and cake with manjar (every pastry has manjar, which is boiled sweetened condenses milk, almost like caramel but not nearly as good).  Transportation from the airport didn’t start till 7am so we found ourselves a corner to sleep.  We got kicked out of two different sections of the airport and were finally directed to an appropriate sleeping area where we unrolled our sleeping pads and managed a few hours of painful sleep.  Pretty sure we had some pictures taken of us by passengers checking in.  Someone somewhere is laughing at the gringos sleeping on the airport floor.

Expense account # 2: $5 a person took us the 20 minute drive into town where another $8 took us the two hour drive to Puerto Natales, the closest town to Torres del Paine. 

We stayed at the Erratic Rock, a hostel not to be confused with Erotic Rock (something amusing to ponder).  This hostel is owned and run by a man named Bill from Oregon and an assortment of other English speaking individuals and Canela, the cat.  Bill is quite the character.  Very charismatic but with secrets hidden behind his joviality.  He has been living outside the US for 15 years trying to establish residence everywhere from Australia, New Zealand, various European countries (all of which wouldn’t allow him to stay more than nine months), and finally Chile, the only country that welcomed him with open arms.  We were pretty sure that he was running from something.  Perhaps a parent, he made some mention of father issues. 

Bill presented an info session on tips for our travels.  The rest of the day was spent buying food, replacing missing items on our backpacks, renting mess kits, and repacking our now bursting packs.  

Expense account # 3: $10 hostel and amazing breakfast, $ 40 mess kit for 4 people for 5 days. 

Day 3: We began the day with fresh bread, omelets, tea, coffee, yogurt, juice, jam, and cereal.  A good healthy breakfast to start a long journey. 

Expense account #4:  $20 round trip bus tickets into the park, $22 30 minute ferry ride across lake Pehoe (saved us an entire day of hiking), $8 entrance to the park, had we not been students it would have cost us $34.

On the bus ride to Torres del Paine we spent three beautiful hours watching the mountains journey closer and closer.  We disembarked to harass the guanaco (llama like creatures) by countless pictures and visited a fox that hangs out on sunny days at a mirador (look out spot) and waits for tourists to come admire it.  We took a 30-minute walk to see a beautiful waterfall and then boarded the ferry and began our journey.  Our $22 dollar boat ride allotted us a cup of hot chocolate, the predominate flavor being not that of chocolate but more a mystery flavor that will never be defined.

We had a beautiful 4.5-hour hike up to Glacier Grey and the free campsite.  I will not go into all the details of these hours because the pictures will more accurately recreate these images.  A fleeting overview would include drinking water fresh from the streams, blisters beginning to form from new shoes, rocks, trees, fall colors, crossing gushing rivers on stepping stones or planks of wood, sore legs, sore feet.  The end of the hike was the hardest because in an attempt to make it to the free campsite we had an extra hour-long hike that was completely up hill.  We were racing the fading light and fighting the ache in our limbs and the blisters on our feet.  We had to climb up boulders and over large root formations.  At times we almost lost our way because the path was no longer visible and the only indication of the next step were orange dots painted on trees or rocks.  When we finally arrived at the campsite dusk had fallen and we had to assemble our tent in the dark.  In the fading light we visited the glacier and had a fantastic view of the kilometers of ice flowing into the distant mountains.  During our hikes we could hear the thunderclaps as chunks of ice broke off the glacier and plummeted into the icy water. 

Cooking consisted of a little single burner attached to a can of gas.  Our bent and battered pot perched itself precariously on the uneven burner and often threatened to topple over.  Most meals consisted of pasta, soup, or potatoes.  Snacks were trail mix and granola bars.

Day 4:  We had 6.5 hours of hiking.  That is a lot of hiking with a 30 lb pack on ones back.  My camera batteries malfunctioned and I wasn’t able to take more than maybe three pictures the whole day.  Pretty sad.  They were brand new rechargeables as well so I was rather frustrated by them not working.  The majority of our hike was towards Los Cuernos (The Horns).  It was a beautiful hike and relatively easy.  We had some wind issues and people were blown over.  We met two 65 year old women doing the same hike that we were, pretty impressive even considering they weren’t camping so they didn’t have the extra weight but it is not an easy hike by any means. 

We reached Campamento Italiano around 6pm, set up camp and made supper.  The two park rangers, Luis and Nicolas, who lived at the camp came over doing a survey of where everyone was from who was camping there.  They invited us to their cabin for hot chocolate later that night.  Interesting.  We accepted their offer.  We had been told that this sometimes happens to groups of girls because the rangers are lonely and in need of some female companionship.  Muy chistoso (very funny).  When we arrived at their house we were greeted and led into a dimly candle lit room (no electricity) that was swelteringly hot.  We took the seats offered and awaited our hot cocoa.  It never came.  What we were served was a delicious meal of chicken and rice and an interesting beverage that consisted of hot red wine simmered with sugar, cinnamon, and orange rinds.  It was quite delicious.  Michelle watched carefully as it was served to make sure no sneaky little pills were added.  Nicolas was hilarious.  He fed us a pack of lies about how the chicken we were eating was really a rare bird that they had caught in the mountains and that the week before they had killed a puma with the machete that was hanging on the wall.  Scary.  Us four girls, being completely gullible and willing to believe that these natives had actually done these things, believed every word.  Nicolas demonstrated his Wookie noise to us and joked that he had killed the Easter bunny and it was in the pot on the stove.  It was a weird and crazy night where we were able to practice our Spanish through a series of stranger and stranger conversations.  The night was so fun and it is interesting to think that merely because we were girls we were wined and dined by men who just needed a little company. 

It rained all night and I was kept awake thinking our tent was going to blow away.

Day 5:  The day I tripped and completely fell, sprained my ankle, was blown over into a thorn bush, cut my thumb on a tent pole, and got a cold.  I rule! 

The first part of the hike we did without packs so it felt amazing.  We hiked up Valle del Frances.  It was one of the most spectacular views I have ever experienced.  In front of us was this massive, looming, black mountain that looked like a sinister castle of some dark lord.  Behind us was a vibrant blue lake surrounded by rolling hills.  Around us gnarled and twisted trees seemingly lifeless clutched at the sky.  I felt like I was in the Lord of the Rings or some other such fantasy and was journeying towards the lair of the evil villain to rescue the land of the good people.   It was enough to inspire any fantasy fan to begin creating stories to accompany the landscapes. 

The hike to the next campsite was a tedious down hill extravaganza where we were often hiking in streambeds holding onto trees to help us down.  We reached the bottom and the trail continued along the shore of a beautiful blue lake.  The wind was blowing as if birthday trick candles were refusing to stay out, creating gusts of spray from the lake.  We had to gauge our progression with the movement of the waves where the path became too narrow from trees hanging low.  It was quite entertaining. 

Day 6:  7 long hours of hiking.  All with packs and never quite knowing how much farther we had to go.  We randomly bumped into two people with connections to Eau Claire.  Very strange.  We met a couple that went to UW-Madison and now live in San Francisco.  We discovered that the bathroom we had hoped for half way through was closed so we ventured into the woods.  I returned looking like a porcupine covered with all the burs and prickly sticky things.  Very uncomfortable.  I even had some in my underwear.  Ick.  This was the day that I was the weakest link.  My body was crying from the stress of the day before, my ankle hurt, and I had to blow my nose every 15 minutes.  My pockets were something to avoid thinking about being filled with hours of snot filled tissues. 

The boys did an extra three hours of hiking and brought us chocolate.  They know how to treat us girls well.

Day 7:  We woke up at 5am and had an hour-long hike in the dark to Los Torres.  We wanted to see them at sunrise but unfortunately the day was overcast and drizzly.  We toasted with a bottle of wine to the completion of our journey and huddled in our coats while the sky lightened.  The hike up had been completely uphill along and through streams and clambering straight up a hill of eroded boulders, no trail, just orange dots.  It was awesome. 

The rest of the day the girls lazed around playing cards and taking naps.  It was good to get to relax. 

Day 8:  The end.  We had an easy 2-hour hike down to the base where we waited for a bus to bring us home.   As we drove away in the bus we looked back to see a huge rain cloud obliterate the view.  Good timing, good trip.  We were tired, stinky, and deprived of many nutrients, but it was worth it, it was all worth it.  

I am heading out with a group of students from my program to do a 5 day long hike.  It will be cold, it will be tiring, we will be hungry, thirsty, sleepy, but it will be fun!  I should have brought camping accessories with me but I just really didn’t think of that as I was leaving Wisconsin in the middle of a blizzard.  Luckily relatives have items that can be borrowed and Jumbo, the Wal*Mart of Chile, has a plentiful supply of “good enough” items.  After buying a special pair of $10 socks at a sporting store I realized that this trip was going to be a little more expensive than I had anticipated.  Hopefully I have a sufficient supply of everything.  Hopefully no one will freeze.  Hopefully the fact that we will practically be in Antarctica wont cause any mishaps.  Look it up on line, it is one of the most southern places one can possibly go.  And it is almost winter here.  Smart, very smart.  If I survive I will tell you how it was.  Until then, chao.

I live in a huge apartment building on the 19^th floor.  I have a beautiful view of the city and an even better view of the smog that suffocates the air and creates an atmospheric effect that should not be allowed to occur across only a few miles of land.  Michelle Bachelet, the new president, instated a new system of transportation just in the last couple months in an effort to reduce the pollution.  I guess they don’t really want the whole in our ozone to get bigger.  Tansantiago is the new system that in theory will eventually work.  Previously there were like 8,000 micros (buses) that traversed the city in no particular manner.  You could get picked up and dropped off right at your door any time of the day or night.  Now they have cut the number of buses in half and have very specific routs that no one can figure out because they are not willing to look at the map that says exactly where they go.  Sometimes the micros don’t show up and no one really knows their time schedule, but there is a map of where they are supposed to drive. The micros dump everyone off at the metro stations because previously no one used the metro.  This is great because now when I try to get home from the University I have to spend a glorious half hour sweating profusely while suffocating amidst an immovable throng of equally sweaty people.  Luckily thus far I have found that while Chileans are very willing to whistle and catcall, they don’t actually touch.  If I had to endure that sweaty half hour metro ride while being unwillingly fondled, well, I would probably start walking.  The good news is that the pollution has already begun to decrease.  The bad news, everyone hates the new system and finds it most intellectual to discuss how terrible it is day upon day. 

So at long last I begin my blog. This is for you dad who has checked it everyday and found nothing. It is a daunting task to start a blog, especially after being here almost a month already and am forgetting by the minute the fun little details of each day. It is also daunting because I have a certain little brother who is a crazy good writer and I just don’t think that my blog can compete with his. I know it’s not a competition but you know, the whole sibling rivalry that theoretically exists.

On first impression Chile didn’t seem all that different than the States. Yeah, we have a constant view of beautiful mountains and everyone speaks insanely fast, slang-filled Spanish, but first impressions are pretty superficial and I hadn’t really known what to expect so to find it so completely normal was sort of a surprise. My host family picked me up at the airport carrying a sign with my name and a large bag of chocolate bars. An excellent way to start a trip. On the car ride to their apartment I was informed that Kevin, the youngest child, 17, had recently broken his leg playing tennis and wasn’t allowed to leave the house. Maggie, the mom, is recently separated and seems to be trying a little too hard to relive her youth. In the past couple weeks she has just started going on dates and is wonderfully giddy while recounting her nervousness during each encounter. Vivi, 19, is studying nursing at La Catolica, which is where I go as well. The first couple days were spend wandering the city trying to get all my paper work sorted out. Vivi’s boyfriend Pablo drove us around much of the time. He is a rather hyperactive, tank top wearing guy with long curly hair. One of the first encounters with him he had on a black, Harley-Davidson tank top. I was very amused.

The more we traversed the city the more I began to notice the quirky differences in dress, hairstyle, and conduct that will hopefully never integrate itself…again…into our culture. I speak, yes, of the mullet and the fanny pack. They are everywhere. They jump out at you from behind walls, they stalk you through the streets, they wistle at you when you walk by. Even worse is the dreaded mullet. And I’m not talking about the….(insert suspenseful music here) duh dun duh dun dah dun….aaaarrggghhhhhhhh….run its the Dreaded Mullet… as in terrifying, scary, …no I am talking hippie meets white trash mullet with dread locks cascading down the back. Somehow the combination must violate some code, somewhere. Actually probably the worst hair I have thus seen was a girl, who at first glance appeared to be wearing a skull cap, but then I realized that horror of horrors, the top of her head was buzzed while an inch wide band of hair encircled her hair line. Hair is like an art form here. It is like that type of art that you seen in modern art museums and that makes you stop and mutter, “huh, interesting. I feel like a little kid could have done that with their eyes closed.”

Then there is the fanny pack…it is the fanny pack. I don’t think I need say more.