Notas de un extranjero en Chile

¡Hola mis amigos! (If this looks like Spanish to you, but you aren´t sure, scroll down for the English version)

En este blog voy a presentar en breve una lista de cosas acá en Chile que me sorprenden, me fascinan, o fácilmente me parecen chistosa. Claramente, soy un extranjero en Chile y muchas veces cuando algo ocurre, no puedo entender en todo lo que pasó. Sin embargo esté tiene ventajas para usted, el audiencia, por que el sufrió de mío es el divertido de suyo.

Primera en la lista son "las lineas." No, no estoy diciendo sobre las lineas que un niño dibuja, estoy diciendo sobre las lineas que los Chilenos les encantan para estar en pie cuando están en el supermercado o otra tienda. Voy a presentar un ejemplo. El otro día estuve en una tienda para comprar crema de afeitara. Había casi quince personas incluyendo yo que estaban esperando en la misma linea de caja para pagar. Después de que yo he pasado dos minutos en linea yo realicé que habían dos otros cajas para pagar y solo dos personas en cada linea para ellos. Me vi a la izquierda, después a la derecha, me encojé mis hombros, y fácilmente me moví a la otra linea. Después de dos minutos había pagado y podía seguir con mi día normal. Por algo razón que yo no supe y ya no sé, ¡las otras catorce personas ya estaban en linea, a pesar de que todo ha visto cuando me moví, nunca se movieron! Aparentemente es más divertido para estar en pie que hacer otras cosas en vida real. Como yo dije, ellos les encantan las lineas. He observado este fenómeno muchas veces y cada vez me sorprende.

Gracias Don Daddy Yankee, sin usted no tenía entrenamiento dondequiera yo voy. Hay una tendencia en Chile que en el superficie parece bueno. La tendencia para compartir todo que es suyo con sus vecinos en lugares públicos como el metro, el sendero, y el calle. A veces este significa que personas se comparten su olor de perfume, y otras veces la significa el compartido de su polola cuando ellos tragan sus propias caras y accidentalmente lamen tu oreja en el proceso. Sin embargo, la tema de esta nota es la tendencia de compartir su música del estilo ranchero con todos. ¿Y quien es el "Big Boss" del ranchero? Daddy Yankee, claro. Sin duda, mi maestra de grado doce me lo introdujo. Los jóvenes especialmente siempre piensan que todo en el tren se encanta Daddy Yankee y como consecuencia ellos nos lo regala durante de todos nuestros viajes. ¿Ya puede ver mi punto? No es siempre beneficio para compartir sus cosas con todo, a veces un poquito de la discreción es algo bueno.

Huevón. ¿Cachaí heuvón el huevón huevón? Na'po huevón no entendí na'po.
(Yo tampoco) La palabra huevón que a veces se deletrea como "weon" o otros veces como "weo" es por lo menos, única. Tengo un libro en mis manos a este minuto se llama "How to Survive the Chilean Jungle" que dice el siguiente sobre la prima palabra huevada, " 'Thing' as in anything." Mi maestra de cinco año decía esté no califique por que no ayuda nada en la búsqueda de definir la palabra. ¿Aunque ella sería correcta, como alguien puede definir una palabra que sencillamente no tiene un particular significado? Además, los Chilenos extienden el uso de heuvón para incluir toda palabra que ya existe en el mundo...y toda palabra que va a existir en el mundo. ¿Te gustaría tener una respuesta al significado de huevón? Ir a chile y escuchar, no hay otro método.

Pues, ya es todo que yo puedo pensarlo ahora mismo. Cuando recuerdo más, presentaré a ustedes para leer y para hacer bromas sobre como terrible yo hablo español.

Nos Vemos,
Charlie

¡Y también, feliz día de las madres a mi madre Chilena Marcela y a mi madre de siempre Denise!
--English Version--

Hello everyone!

In this blog I am going to make a very brief list of things here in Chile that either surprise me, fascinate me, or that I simply find funny. I needn't tell you that I am a foreigner in Chile, but because of this many times when something happens I can't fully understand why it happens. However, as my audience the small amount of suffering I endure gets to be your entertainment.

First on the list are lines. I'm not talking about the lines that a kid draws, I'm talking about the lines that Chileans love to stand in when they're at the supermarket or any other store for that matter. Here's an example: the other day I was in a store buying shaving cream. There were around fifteen other people including myself standing in line waiting to pay. After about two minutes of standing and not moving forward at all I realized that there were two other cash registers open and only two people in line for each of them. I looked to my left, then to my right, shrugged my shoulders and changed lines. Two minutes later I was paid up, and able to continue along with my day. Yet for some incomprehensible reason the fourteen other people in the original line didn't move. They had seen me move, but they all decided that standing in line would be more fun and more worthwhile than saving time and moving to the other line. Like I said, the Chileans love their lines. I've seen this happen many times now, but every time it surprises me.

Thank you Sir Daddy Yankee, without you I wouldn't have constant entertainment wherever I go. I've identified a little trend here in Chile that on the surface appears benign. It's the tendency to share everything that is yours with your neighbors in public places like the metro, the sidewalk, and the street. Sometimes this means people share their wonderful smelling $4 perfume as you walk by them, other times it's their girlfriend as they swallow her face and accidentally lick your ear in the process. But that's all besides the point...I'm trying to talk about the Chileans tendency to share their Ranchero music with everybody. And who is the "Big Boss" of Ranchero? Why it's Daddy Yankee, of course. I wouldn't know that without Señora Vitz's 12th grade Spanish class, so thank you for introducing me to him, but please, all I wanted was an introduction, nothing more. Especially the kids. They all think everyone on the train or bus or wherever you are at loves Daddy Yankee. As a consequence, they gift you with his poetic lyrics and inspirational beats wherever you go. Do you see my point yet? To all you toddlers out there, tell your mother's it's not always beneficial to share! Sometimes a little discretion is a good thing.

Huevón. ¿Cachaí heuvón el huevón huevón? Na'po huevón no entendí na'po.
Did you catch that? Yeah, me neither. The word huevón which is sometimes spelled "weon" or "weo," is at the very least, a unique word. In my hands right now is a handy little book given to us exchange students at the beginning of our semester titled "How to Survive the Chilean Jungle" which says the following about the word huevonada, the cousin of huevón, " 'Thing' as in anything." Now if I had shown that to my fifth grade teacher and told her it was a definition she would have said to me "no way Jose now go flip a card for your bad behavior, and while you're at it bring me a Starbucks." Although she would be right, how is anyone supposed to define a word which simply has no single definition? Furthermore, Chileans extend the use of huevón well past it's infinite boundaries and literally spit in the face of mathematics as they use it in ever more dimensions of what must be parallel universes at this point. They use it in place of every word that exists, and every word that's going to exist. ever. So you want a definition of huevón? Go to Chile and listen, there's really no other way.

Well that's about all I can think of right now. When I remember more I will write it down so that you guys can read it, laugh about it, laugh at me, or tickle a pickle (say what?).

Nos Vemos,
Charlie

And one more thing, Happy mother's day to my Chilean mother Marcela and to my forever mother Denise!

La Invasión del Privado: Pierde su dignidad en la calle

A veces en el parque, otros tiempos en el metro, y siempre en tú cara es el bloque más fundamental de la cultura Chilena. La que yo refiero es el beso publico. En las palabras famosas de mi amigo mejor Don Juan de Marco el Chileno, "Ustedes Norteamericanos son reservados en publico pero abiertos en lo privado. Nosotros no. Somos abiertos en el privado y desnudos en lo publico. Él tuvo razón. La historia de Chile es un poco triste. Durante los veinte años de la dictadura el amor estaba encarcelado al hogar. Como consecuencia, cuando Pinochet se calló el amor infestó las calles y recuperó lo que fue suyo. La realidad en Chile es sí no te gusta los sonidos del amor joven, sí no prefieres mirara la concepción de un hijo en el metro, ir a otro país. Chile es de la gente, y la gente va a usarlo.

Charlie
--English--

Sometimes it's in the park, other times it's in the metro, but always in your face is the pillar of Chilean culture; the very foundation upon which it stands. What I'm referring to is kissing in public. PDA. In the famous words of my best friend Don Casanova IV of Chile, "You Americans are reserved in public, but open in private. We are not. We're open in private, and naked in public." He was right. The history of Chile is a sad one. During the twenty years of the dictatorship love was relegated to, of all places, the home. As a consequence, when Pinochet's government fell love flooded the streets and reclaimed that which it once owned. The reality in Chile is that if you don't like listening to the sounds of young love, if you don't like watching the conception of a child in the metro, go to a different country. Chile is of the people, and the people are going to use it.

;)
Charlie

La Búsqueda para el Significado

Hola amigos, (If you can't understand this text, see the English version below!)

La luna de miel esta oficialmente terminada. Esté etapa del viaje es más difícil que el anterior. Aunque es más difícil, la trae esperanza. Esperanza por que finalmente yo puedo encontrar el significado y la razón sincero en cual que yo vine a Chile. Yo nunca intentaba a viajar a Chile para hacer un vacación o para carretear. Yo intentaba a viajar a Chile para descubrir un nuevo mundo dónde la gente piensan y comportan diferente y por observación y interacción quizá yo podía entender alguna de ellos. Sin embargo el proceso es tan lento. No he descubierto alguna secreto sobre la existencia o un contrasto de perspectivo que ilumine la vida de manera especial. En mi experiencia he encontrado tanto mas similaridades que diferencias y esté es decepcionado. La culpa no es de Chile, es de yo. No trataba de escapar mí circulo de cómodo para ver un nuevo mundo a pesar de los gripes y palabras he dicho a mis amigos y a mí familia. Hoy día es casi el aniversario de dos meses desde yo llegué a Chile por primera vez. Las metas que yo ponía para el semestre son incompleta y todo me parece un poco bochornoso.

Ahora voy a reversar la dirección de este blog. La semana pasada yo fue a una organización se llama La Casa de Amor Misericordioso (CAM) para trabajar voluntario con niños. Aunque yo sólo trabajé por tres horas, la experiencia fue impresionante. La CAM es una como una escuela para los niños después de su colegio. La directora de la programa me dijo que muchas veces los niños no tienen figuras masculinos en sus vidas y por eso puedo haber un efecto muy profundo. Los niños y las niñas tienen varios años entre 7 y 13 que presentan un nuevo dificultad a mí porque nunca he trabajado con niños de esa edad. Es un poco chistoso por que los niños y yo comprendemos casi el mismo nivel de español, pero ellos entienden el Chileno mejor que yo y muchas veces me ríen por que yo nunca entendía nada. Voy a trabajar en la CAM todos los jueves entre tres y media hasta siete y media. La CAM es la encarnación de mí búsqueda para el significada acá en Chile. Espero que todo vaya bien y la experiencia es valioso a mí y además a los niños que les estaré trabajando.

En otras noticias la otra día Garrett y yo con nuestro programa en concordancia con la programa de Syracuse University fuimos al pueblo Púcon en el centro-sur de Chile.

En total eramos diecisiete estudiantes. Los chicos de la otra programa son tan amables y divertidos y estoy agradezco que ellos nos acompañaron en el viaje. Púcon es un pueblo pequeño que tiene 25 mil personas durante la temporada baja y 45 mil personas durante el invierno. La industria principal en Púcon es el turismo, sin embargo Púcon es diferente que Puerto Natales por que las turistas en Púcon son Chilenos muchas veces mientras que las turistas en Puerto Natales eran totalmente extranjeras.

El viaje claramente era un vacación. Un día nosotros fuimos al río para Raft y fue una experiencia muy entrenamiento. El río tenía corrientes poderosos y rápidos de nivel cinco. Tambíen había una pasaje en el rió que no podía pasar por raft.En vez del raft nosotros subimos una sendera a un acantilado y saltamos en el río desde el altura de cuatro metros. Desgraciadamente había un fotográfico que saqué fotos de todo el viaje. Después del viaje el fotográfico nos mostró sus fotografias y cuando el mostró la foto de yo me parecía comó un Melvin por qué estaba cerrado mi naríz con mi manos y tenía un expresión de miedo puro en mi cara. La culpa es mí madre, por que ella siempre me dijo para evitar las situaciones como esa y nunca salta en un río cual que no sabes la profundidad. Lo siento mama, y lo siento a todo la gente que tengan el nombre Melvin. Es un nombre pésimo.

Otra cosa para mencionar... Garrett es un guagua (bebé). Él gritó durante todo el viaje que él era frió y quería beber leche chocolate. El también puso su pulgar en su boca todos los noches, por que él es débil y además es un hijo.

Pues no hay tanta más otras noticias para decir. Mí polola especial me regaló el libro "Cien Años de Soledad" por Gabriel García Marquez antes de yo llegué los EE.UU. y me encanta esté historia. El libro es en español, y aunque yo no entiendo todo, te prometo que el acto de leer ha mejorado mí español profundamente. Me siento que mi habilidad para leer y escribir ha mejorado mucho, pero ya es difícil para entender el Chileno y para hablar con fluidez. Espero que estas cosas mejoren en el futuro. Tengo la confianza que vaya así.

Por ultimo, le extraño todos mis amigos y mi familia en los EE.UU. Espero que todos estén bien y buena suerte con los exámenes finales! Voy a divertirse el séptimo semana de escuela acá...

Ciao,
Charlie


--ENGLISH--

Hello Everybody,

The honeymoon is officially over. This chapter of the trip is more difficult than the previous one. However, through the difficulties lies a glimmer of hope. Hope because finally I might be able to find the meaning and reason that I came to Chile in search of. I never intended to come to this country to take a vacation or to party. I came here to discover a new world where the people think and behave differently and that somehow through observation and interaction I might be able to learn something from them. However the process has been very slow. As of yet I don't think I've discovered any grand secret about human existence or a contrast in perspective that has illuminated life in any kind of ultra special way. In my experience so far I have encountered more similarities than differences, and I guess that disappoints me. It's not Chile's fault, it's mine. I set certain exotic expectations of the country that are neither realistic nor desirable really. The fault is my own because I haven't genuinely tried to escape my circle of comfort in order to see a new world. I have failed to do this despite my own big talk to friends and family on the contrary. Thursday will be the two month anniversary of my arrival in Chile. Most of the goals I set before I arrived here are still incomplete, and that's embarrassing.

And now I'm going to reverse the direction of this blog. Last week I went to an organization called 'La Casa de Amor Misericordioso' (CAM) which translates into 'The House of Merciful Love' to volunteer working with kids. Although it was only my first time and I was only there for a few hours, the experience left an impression in its own right. CAM is basically an after school program for kids to go to after school gets out but before there parents can pick them up. The director of the program told me that oftentimes many of the kids don't have positive male figures in their lives and for that reason I have the opportunity to have quite a profound effect on them. What I don't think she realized is that in reality, the reverse would be true. The girls and boys range in age from around seven to thirteen which presents a challenge to me because I've never worked with kids in this age range extensively before. It's also a little bit comical because the kids and I probably understand about the same level of Spanish. Except that they understand Chilean Spanish way better than I do and as a result they laughed at me a lot or gave me funny looks when I was totally blown past by probably some very simple Chilean phrase that I had just never heard before. I'm going to volunteer at CAM every Thursday from 3:30 until close around 7. CAM is the embodiment of my search for significance here in Chile. I hope that everything goes well and the experience is as valuable to the niños as I know it will be to me.

In other news the other weekend Garrett and I, along with a different exchange program from Syracuse University, went to a little town called Púcon in the central-southern region of Chile.

In total our two groups equaled seventeen students. The kids in the other program were extremely nice and friendly, I'm hoping that I'll have opportunities to hang out with them in the future, I was very happy to have them on the trip. Púcon is a little pueblo that has around 25,000 residents in the low season which increases to about 45,000 in the summer. The primary industry in Púcon is tourism; however, unlike Puerto Natales the tourists in Púcon are generally Chilean rather than foreign. I definitely preferred this because the town had a much more Chilean feel than some kind of FDI experiment in the south of Chile. Don't be fooled like I was though, the trip was nothing more than a vacation. Unfortunately we didn't get to work much with the locals or have any real cultural experiences. Although who can I really blame for that other than myself? Anyways, once I got over that issue and just decided to enjoy myself Garrett, the two guys from the Syracuse program, and I all went rafting. The river was running quickly and the guides told us that it had some level 5 rapids which I believe are the highest rank, or at least close to it. At one point there was a passage in the river that we couldn't go through on the raft. Instead we had to hike up a rough trail onto this cliff that led directly back into the river but below the gigantic waterfall that we weren't allowed to raft over. Instead of rafting down this part, we were told to jump some 13-14 feet into the river below the cliff.

Unfortunately for me, there was a photographer around and he happened to take some pictures of me as I prepared for this mighty endeavor. After the trip he showed our whole group plus the Argentinian family who was in the raft behind us all the pictures. When they got to the picture of me preparing to jump in the Argentinians just burst out laughing because I looked like such a Melvin. It didn't take long for Garrett and the Syracuse boys to laugh too. Whatever...I'm clearly not bitter about it. I blame my Mom, because whe always told me to avoid situations where I'd be jumping into a river of some unknown depth. (Sorry Mom, and sorry to anyone named Melvin. What a terrible name)

Oh yes...one other little thing to mention. Garrett is a little baby. He cried the entire trip about being cold and how badly he wanted chocolate milk. I also discovered that he sleeps with his thumb in his mouth every night. But why am I acting so surprised, I already knew he's a feeble infant.

There's really not a whole lot of other news to talk about. My wonderful girlfriend gave me a copy of the book "Cien Años de Soledad" (100 Years of Solitude), printed in Spanish of course, before I left for Chile and I've been reading it pretty regularly as of the beginning of April. I really like the story, and although I don't understand close to everything that I read, I can tell that it's really helping improve my Spanish. Ever since getting back from Patagonia where I spoke little to no Spanish, I have felt like my Spanish has improved quite a bit. My reading and writing I think is much more advanced that it was when I showed up. Listening and speaking are lagging a little bit, but I have confidence they will improve as well.

Finally, I miss all of my friends and family in the US. I hope everything is going well and good luck with finals! I'll be enjoying just my seventh week of classes here in Chile...

Ciao,
Charlie

Una Palabra Debe Ser Suficiente: Patagonia

¡Hola otra vez amigos!

Pocas semanas han pasado entre blogs, sin embargo espero que este blog sea mejor que todos los anteriores. Hay bastante noticias para decir, pero el titular es definitivamente mí viaje a Patagonia. Patagonia es un región de tierra en el sur de Sudamérica. La palabra significa muchas regiones incluyen tierra en Chile y Argentina más al sur de los ciudades poblados y sin acceso fácil por coche. Hay tantos atracciónes en el región, sino en el opinión de mí la más famosa sea Parque Nacional Torres del Paine.

El viaje tenía mis dos amigos Carol Campbell, Garrett Lockhart, y yo. Cuando nosotros llegamos en Punta Arenas (52 grados sur) estuvimos bromeando sobre el corto distancia entre nosotros y Antártica. Carol mencionó a Garrett y yo que nosotros deberíamos más cuidado con nuestro equipaje y nosotros respondimos, "¿Que piensas ocurrir? ¿Adónde va el ladron? ¿Anartíca? Buena Suerte a él." Aunque el intercambiar estaba en humor, nosotros estuvimos muy correcto. En Punta Arenas y además en Puerto Natales tres horas al norte de Punta Arenas, la gente que viven allí son demasiado simpático y amable. Estoy seguro que la gente allí nunca habían cometido un crimen de toda la historia del mundo. Cuando estábamos en Puerto Natales nosotros encontramos un hombre se llama Cristian quien trabajó en una tienda de montañismo. Después de nosotros hemos terminados los negocios, fuimos a un microbrewery para comer. Cristian vino también y nosotros pasamos el cenar con él. Cristian fue muy servicial y amable. El arregló nuestros planes y como consecuencia, él salvó mucho tiempo de caminar y además, hizo posible para nosotros a divertirse el viaje.

Al fin del cenar nosotros pasamos el noche en un hostal se llama "Aventura Patagonia." En la mañana nosotros salimos por bus al Parque Nacional Torres del Paine y empezamos nuestro viaje. Voy a añadir una mapa del parque con anotaciones para apoyar el texto. Empezamos a la estación Pudeto y entonces tomamos un barco a Refugio Pehoe. Después, el ascendiente comenzó. Pasamos cinco o seis horas en ruta al Campamento Británico (punto azul) mientras sacamos bastante fotos. El camino

era bonito, nosotros estábamos rodeando por el Cuerno Paine Grande (fotografía primera) de un lado y los otros Cuernos al otro lado. Era tan bonito que todos los vistos ya he vistos. Me sorprende mucho el contrasto entre las llanuras y las montañas que de repente rotan el superficie y suben dos mil metros en el aérea. Era extraordinario, nunca he visto la misma cosa en toda mi vida.

Pasamos el primero noche en el campamento Británico. Nosotros fuimos

los únicos moñtaneros en el campamento este noche, y por eso nosotros sentimos un poco mas duro que la otra gente en el parque. Este primero noche, Garrett y yo fuimos al mirador para ver los Cuernos (foto a la derecha) en todo sus brillance, al mismo tiempo el sol descendió y nosotros entramos el noche al cima de los montañas, y además, al cima del hemisferio sur.


En la mañana, nosotros descansamos dos horas tarde a las 8:00 y estaban forzados a salvar tiempo en el descenso. Tuvimos que hacer el mismo barco a las 12:30, pero recuérdate que el ascenso tomó casi seis horas. Al riesgo de nuestros propio salud y al sacrifico de nuestras rodillas, hicimos el barco diez minutos antes. El barco nos transportamos al lado oeste del parque para subir una senda en la dirección de la gran atracción, los Torres del Paine.

Después del barco, nosotros comimos el almuerzo a las escaleras del Hotel Torres del Paine. Esté edificio era bonita también, pero a nosotros parecimos un poco extraño para tener un hotel de calidad alta en el centro de un región tan remoto. Nosotros estaban sorprendido para saber que el receso pequeñito tomó dos horas. A las 3:30 empezamos a subir los ochos kilómetros de distancia y el 700 metros de altura entre el hotel y el campamento Torres. Este parte del viaje definitivamente fue el peor. La senda era tan empinado para empezar, casi 500 metros de altura en menos de dos kilómetros de caminar. Para pasar el tiempo difícil, Garrett y yo hablamos entre respiraciones duros sobre la bonita, la rica, y la satisfacción de un Chipotle Burrito. Nunca he deseado algo más que el Chipotle burrito en esté momento. Por mágico, Dios, o otro, nosotros subimos la inclinación y los otros seis kilómetros pasaron fácilmente. El campamento Torres (punta verde en la mapa) tenían casi veinte otros tiendas de acampar y casi treinta personas. Había un lugar para cocinar y un río pequeño para tomar agua. Este noche había menos frió que el primero noche, y en general fue más fácil para dormir.

En la mañana nosotros descansamos a las seis para subir el mirador con el partido de moñtaneros. Este momento fue el mejor parte de todo el viaje. Garrett, Carol, casi diez otras personas, y yo subimos a juntos los cuarenta y cinco minutos y 300 metros de altura al mirador de Torres del Paine.

Era oscuro cuando nosotros empezamos en la senda. Había un nuevo capa de nieve para nos ponerse los pies y hacer un nuevo senda. Yo sentí como un expedicionario de Everest, y el premio era casi tan brillante que la tapa de Everest. Miralo, miralo, mira a los tres Torres de casi 2750 metros arriba del tierra y en la luz de la mañana nuevamente nacido.

Espero que ustedes puedan sentir la energía y la reverencia que yo tengo sobre el Parque Nacional Torres del Paine. Era maravilloso, bonito, y casi todos los otros adjetivos yo puedo a hablar. Tengo muchos pensamientos sobre el viaje. Me parece imposible para ir a un viaje como ese y no formar creencias nuevos sobre el mundo y la vida. A mí, este viaje reforzó la necesidad para preservar y cuidar a nuestro mundo. El bonito es frágil, y nosotros tenemos que cuidarlo. Por el otro mano, quiero agradecer mis padres Denise y Marty Guinn. Sin ellos, esté viaje habría sido imposible. El viaje me hace realizar la necesidad para tener un buen trabajo, y un saldo suficiente. A mí me gustaría hacer posible las mismas cosas a mí familia por que todo el mundo, especialmente ellos que yo amo, merezcan este oportunidad.

Charlie

Aviso* Yo entiendo que a veces este blog es un poco bastante serio, mi amigo Garrett también tiene un blog que es muy comico. Verlo por un otro perspectivo del viaje, y de Chile en general.
http://trecerlente.blogspot.com

--English--

Hello again!

A few weeks have passed since I blogged last; however, I hope this post is better than any of the previous posts. There is a lot of news to tell, but the headline is definitely the recent trip I took to Patagonia. Patagonia is a region of earth in the very southern part of South America. The word 'Patagonia' encompasses vast amounts of land in both Chile and Argentina to the south of the populated cities and without easy access by car. There are many attractions in the region, but in my opinion the most famous has to be Torres Del Paine National Park.

I was accompanied on the trip by my two friends Carol Campbell and Garrett Lockhart, who I have mentioned in previous posts. When we arrived in Punta Arenas (52 degrees south of the equator) we were joking about how close we were to Antarctica. Carol mentioned that Garrett and I should be more cautious with our baggage, we simply replied, "What do you think is going to happen? Where would the mugger go? Antarctica? Good luck to that guy." Although the exchange was in jest, Garrett and I actually were fairly spot on in our observation. Furthermore, the people who live in Punta Arenas and Puerto Natales (three hours to the north) are extremely nice and friendly. I'm pretty sure that the people there have never, in the history of the world, committed a crime. When we were in Puerto Natales we met a man named Cristian who worked at the mountaineering shop next door to our hostel. After we finished renting our equipment we went to a local microbrewery to eat (and for the others to drink). Cristian came as well and we spent the night eating, talking, and laughing with his company. He was very helpful and friendly, and possibly saved our entire trip from ruin. He suggested we change our plans slightly and not walk from campsite Británico to the other campsite in one day, which would have been roughly twelve hours of hiking. Cristian was the difference between enjoying our trip, and not.

When we were done eating dinner the three of went back to spend the night at a Hostel named "Aventura Patagonia." In the morning, after packing our bags with all the new equipment (my pack weighed roughly 30-35 pounds with water) we headed by bus to the National Park. I have attached a map to this blog in order to make it easier for you to follow along. We began at the station Pudeto and took a ferry to Refugio Pehoe. After that, the ascent began. We walked for five or six hours on route to campsite Británico, stopping every thirty seconds to take copious amounts of pictures. The trail was beautiful.

We were entirely surrounded by beauty, the magnificent Paine Grande to one side and Los Cuernos on the other. It was one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. I was shocked by the contrast between the plains and then these giant mountains that suddenly break the surface and rise 2000 meters (6500 ft) into the air.

We spent the first night at Campsite Británico. The three of us were the only campers at the campsite which lent us the feeling

of being some of the most durable, rugged, handsome, awesome, super-cool people in the entire park. (We were probably right) Before dinner Garrett and I went up to the Mirador (viewpoint) to see Los Cuernos in all of their glory. While we were up there, the sun set and we entered the night near the summit of the peaks, and practically the summit of the southern hemisphere.

In the morning we woke up at 8:00 which was two hours later than we were planning. We were forced to run down the mountain in order to catch the ferry at 12:30. Mind you it took almost six hours to go up the mountain on a trail full of rocks, boulders, and all other manners of nasty things ready to catch your foot, ankle, or knee and devour it. At the risk of our health, and the sacrifice of our knees, we made it to the boat with ten minutes to spare. The ferry transported us to the eastern side of the lake where we were able to get on a shuttle to take us to the east side of the park, and to start up the trail of the main attraction: Los Torres Del Paine.

Before we started on the trail, we ate lunch on the steps of the Hotel Torres del Paine. The building was extremely beautiful, but it seemed strange to us how out of place a high quality hotel was in such a remote region of the planet. While enjoying crackers, tuna, an mayonnaise time quickly got ahead of us. Our little lunch took two hours and as as a result we had to start up the trail at the very late hour of 3:30. The trail was eight kilometers long and about 700 meters (2200ft) of elevation gain which we expected to take roughly five hours. The beginning of this hike was by far the low point of the trip. The trail begins with an extremely steep hill that rises 500 meters in less that 2 kilometers. To pass the hard times Garrett and I began joking, which turned into pleading, for the beauty, the richness, and the fullness of a Chipotle burrito. By magic, God, or something else we managed to mount the damn hill and the other six kilometers passed easily. Campsite Torres (green point on the map) had around 20 other tents and about 30 other people. The site had a cute little shelter to cook in, and a little stream to drink water from. I was initally skeptical of drinking water from a stream, but this isn't just any stream. This is a glacier stream, and you drink what you are given! Truth be told, I wish that stream would move to Santiago and give me some water to drink that doesn't taste like dust. Anyways...The night passed slightly easier than the previous night, and was a fair bit warmer as well.

In the morning we woke up at around six when it was still fully dark. We strapped on our headlamps and Garrett, Carol, and I accompanied an expedition of about ten other people to summit the mirador before dawn. The process of climbing to the mirador was definitely the highlight of the whole trip for me. The trail up to the mirador rises about 300 meters (1000 ft) from the campsite in less than

a kilometer. The dark trail had a fresh layer of snow on it from the previous night, and accompanied by my hiking poles and headlamp, made for a dramatic experience. I felt like an Everest expeditioner, and the prize at the top of the Mirador has to be almost as cool as topping Everest itself. Just look at it. Look how the three Torres just jump out of the earth and rise to nearly 2750 meters (8500 ft) in the light of a newly born morning.

I hope that you can feel the energy and the reverence I have for Parque Nacional Torres Del Paine. It was marvelous, beautiful, and practically all the other adjectives I know how to say. I have so many thoughts about the trip...It seems impossible to me to go on a trip like this and not form new beliefs about the world and life. For me, the trip reinforced the crucial need to preserve and care for our world. Beauty is fragile, and we must care for it. On another note, I would genuinely like to thank my parents Denise and Marty Guinn for making the trip possible. On the side of the mountain I had a little realization about the importance of having a good job and a sufficient salary. Without them, your kids don't get to see the parts of the world that are so beautiful, so life changing, and so enriching. I want to be as good a parent as my parents are to me. I want to make it possible for my future family to see the same things I've been so lucky to see.

Still in Awe,
Charlie

P.S. I understand that at times this blog can get a little serious. My friend Garrett also has a blog which I find absolutely, thigh-slappingly hilarious. Check it out to get another perspective of the trip, and of Chile in general.http://trecerlente.blogspot.com/

Fui a La Playa

¡Hola Amigos! (ENGLISH VERSION BELOW)
¡Por fin decidió escribir este blog en español, hace razón por que estoy en América Latina! Sin embargo, te prometo que sea un otra versión en inglés abajo. En vuelvo, me promete que tú no me ríes por demasiado tiempo cuando cada frase tiene errores.

El pasado fin de semana mis amigos Carol, Garrett, y yo fuimos a la playa de Chile en la ciudad de Viña del Mar. La guía dijo que personas en Chile refieren a Viña como el ¨Chilean Riviera.¨ Pues, no es exactamente correcto. Claro, las playas son bonitas, la arena es tan fina, la aroma es fresca. Sin embargo, toda de la costa da el sentido extraño de materialismo. Como la perfuma barata de un Guido en las playas de Nueva Jersey, en un sentido la costa fue un poco arruinado por los edificios que todos parecen el mismo y las restaurantes cadenas. Hace muchos años, ya siento hay un problema serio con capitalismo. Viña es un ejemplo bueno. Capitalismo, a pesar de todo los beneficios hace, tiene la propensión para destruir alguna especial, alguna riquísima y autentica en lugares como Viña del Mar. Todo el tiempo cuando fui en la ciudad yo pensaba sobre la ciudad antes de la sujeción firma de globalización y capitalismo ocurrió. ¿Antes de los kilómetros y kilómetros de hoteles altas, las tiendas baratas que marcan las avenadas y las playas, había una población sencilla y dulce que trabajaban en el mar y compartían en los calles?

No quiero darte un malo sentido sobre Viña del Mar, por que era maravillosa. Las personas que trabajaban en las tiendas eran muy simpáticas y no todo de la ciudad habían sido alguna sitia para turistas. En particular querría elogiar la ciudad que ha mantenido limpia muchas de las playas y presentó una escena bonita para mis compañeros y yo a ver.

Cambiando temas, quiero hablar un poco sobre mí experiencia a las escuelas aquí en Chile. Pontifica Universidad de Católica (La Católica o PUC), en gran parte se opera como un maquino. Las clases tienen salas con números, y el proceso de inscribirlo es tan fácil. Por otro mano, La Universidad de Chile (La Chile o UCH) es un mundo diferente. Primero, la facultad de economía no podía ordenarse antes del primero día de clases y como consecuencia, fue imposible para saber donde y cuando clase ocurrió. En resulto, cuando por fin yo supe cuando la ocurriría, la clase tiene conflicto con un otro clase a La Católica. Después, yo fui a la clase de apoyo, y no la ocurrió por qué tanto menos personas la han inscribidos. La historia no es completo ahora, ayer fui a la clase de apoyo de la clase de apoyo totalmente en el otro parte de Santiago y cuando salé, la clase ha cambiado completamente sin aviso y yo no pude asistirlo. El ultimo, yo elijé para asistir una otra clase a la Católica en lugar de una clase a La Chile. Originalmente querría tomar clases a los dos para ver los estudiantes diferentes y enseñar de otros tipos de profesores. Sin embargo, no voy a luchar la sistema, y por eso voy a tomar clases solamente a La Católica.

Vida es bueno aquí. Aunque las profesoras me han dado muchas lecturas para leer, pienso que sea tiempo para completarlas. Además, yo no tengo clase los jueves, y como consequencia podría hacer mucho trabajo durante el día.

Gracias para leyendo,
Charlie ¨Win¨ (Aquí nadie pronuncia la ´G,´ y por resulto me apellido suena como ¨Win.¨

---English----

Hello Everybody!

I finally decided to write this blog in Spanish because it just makes sense, after all I am in Latin America. However, as I promised in the Spanish version I will always translate this into English. I believe that it's important for me to go from Spanish to English, otherwise the exercise is just one of translation, not of actually composition in a foreign language. But in return, if you choose to read the Spanish version please don't laugh too long when you see tons of errors. I'm trying!!!

Last weekend my friends Carol, Garrett, and I went to the Chilean beach in the city of Viña del Mar. The guidebook said some Chileans refer to this area as the "Chilean Riviera." Well, that's not exactly correct. Of course, the beaches are beautiful, the sand is fine, and their is a fresh aroma in the air. However, the entire coast gives off a scent of materialism. Like the scent of bad perfume on a New Jersey Guido, I felt like the area was a little ruined by the miles of identical hotels and chain restaurants. This brings me to a general point that I have been thinking about lately. For some time now I have felt that Capitalism, for all of its benefits, certainly has a propensity to destroy something special, something rich and authentic. Places like Viña are a good example. The whole time when I was there I was thinking about what the city was like before the firm grip of globalization and capitalism took hold. Before the miles and miles of tall hotels, the cheap tourist stores that mar the avenues and beaches, was there a simple and sweet town that worked in the sea and shared in the streets?

I don't want to give you a bad taste of Viña del Mar, because it was actually quite marvelous. The people who worked there were very kind and the whole town hadn't been completely converted into a tourist trap. In particular I would like to commend the city for maintaining its beaches so well and presenting such a beautiful place to my friends and I to see.

Changing themes, I'd like to talk a little about my experience so far at the schools here in Chile. Pontifica Universidad de Católica (La Católica or PUC), in large part works like a machine. The classes occur in well marked rooms and the process of registering for them is super easy. On the other hand, La Universidad de Chile (La Chile o UCH) is a totally different world. My first experience was with the department of economics. Apparently they couldn't get their act together enough to publish when and where classes occurred before the first day of class. When I finally found out, the class I was trying to take conflicted with my other courses at Católica. Later, I attempted to go to the backup-class I had planned for and that didn't happen either because the class was canceled without warning due to lack of interest. The story isn't done yet; I tried to go to the backup for the backup class all the way on the opposite side of Santiago just to get there and find out that the class had completely changed, and the professor was giving a completely different course in the room adjacent to the one I was supposed to be in. In the end i have chosen just to attend class at Católica. Originally I had wanted to take classes at both because I thought it would be a good experience to learn from different professors alongside different kinds of kids. However, I'm not going to keep fighting a system that seems hell-bent on preventing me from fulfilling my intentions. So in the end, I'm just taking classes at Católica.

Life is good here. Although the professors have given a lot of readings, I think there will be time to complete all of it. Moreover, I don't have class on Thursdays, and as a consequence I should have a lot of time during the day to do work.

Thanks for reading,
Charlie "Win"
(Nobody here really pronounces the "G" and as a result my last name sounds like "WIN." Finally, I've won something in life)

Lo Empieza

Tuesday passed as the one week mark of this, my Chilean adventure. I am enrolled at two universities in Santiago, but classes did not start until Wednesday at La Pontifica Universidad Católica de Santiago (PUC), and not until next week at La Universidad de Chile (UCH). Although formal instruction hasn't begun, you could say that I have already learned a great deal about various aspects of Chilean and Latin American life, myself, and the wonderful friends I have started to make.

First of all, I can't imagine what my experience would be like without my fellow companions Garrett and Carol. The three of us, plus one returning student comprise the GW program of Chilean Fall 2011. Although we were essentially strangers when we first met last Tuesday, as of today we have become extremely close. I can't exactly say that our friendship is a testament to the power of cultural-ties, nor solely a testament to how awesome Carol and Garrett. Rather, I believe our quick friendship is a strong combination of both aspects. It helps having friends from GW not just because we share the same native language; moreover, it helps because we keep each other company while we are still newcomers to this large city. The dynamic of the group is one characterized by lots of laughter, inappropriate college jokes, a large dose of California beach-bum Spanglish, adventurous spirit, and the common desire to integrate and become multicultural. I could not ask for anything more.

As the least proficient Spanish speaker of the group, I often feel frustrated at my inability to convey certain thoughts and my inability to understand conversation. As I mentioned in my first post, it frequently depends on who is speaking, but in general people I have become attuned to I can understand with greater and greater thoroughness each day. Speaking is still difficult as I find myself tongue tied with the different verb conjugations. Sometimes I wonder if all this self-analysis while speaking actually slows me down and/or hinders my development. Is it better to try and avoid mistakes, or to make them and reflect later on what was said incorrectly? Overall I am pleased with my development considering that I have been in Chile for just a little over one full week. I owe a lot of credit to both Carol and Garrett, Lise-Anne, and my host family for really helping me out as I struggle.

In many ways Santiago is every bit as modern as US cities. Sure, the parts I have been exposed to thus far are the safer and more modern neighborhoods but it is amazing how far you can travel and never really leave the familiar world. They have McDonalds and Starbucks, plus more banks on every street corner than you could ever imagine. They have modern shopping malls that frankly put some US shopping centers to shame. The only thing I have yet to see is the conventional American strip mall, and I hope to keep it that way. The Chileans love US sitcoms. When it was announced that CBS was canceling 'Two and a Half Men' many Chileans were quite displeased. Furthermore, instead of dubbing the shows, they are broadcast in English with Spanish subtitles. This makes the process of immersion even more difficult, because frequently the TV is playing shows that I would watch from the comfort of my own home in the states, and in English.

I am quite excited about all the opportunities that I have here in Chile. However, I would be lying if I didn't tell you the number one thing I am looking forward to is the start of my ´fútbol varones´ (men´s football) class. It meets M, W, F for 80min each day. It has been a long time since I have touched a good soccer pitch, and I can't wait to get back to the sport that I once enjoyed so much as a little-tyke.

That´s it for this post. If you have questions or comments feel free to leave them in the comment section on this page or on my facebook page www.facebook.com/cmguinn. Also, if you have a particular topic you would like me to address just let me know!

Ciao,
Charlie

Después yo llegue en Santiago.

First word of advice to any Gringos headed to Chile or anywhere else in Latin America: Fly LAN Chile, best airplane experience I've had since a Delta pilot gave me plastic wings in first grade. As if the 44 different on demand movies and other in flight entertainment weren't splendid enough, nothing quite compares to landfall on the Chilean coast during sunrise in the southern hemisphere. The landscape looks as if the mountains and the sea went through a nasty divorce and a family-court judge had to draw a line down the center to end the vicious competition for property. Except in this case it's the massive and barren Andes meeting the vast Pacific Ocean, all expressed as one of nature's more beautiful love children.

The landing in Santiago was extremely smooth. As an expression of their appreciation the Chileans made a nostalgically old gesture by applauding the pilot's handiwork. The Arturo Benítez Aeropuerto de Santiago is about the size of the Providence airport in Rhode Island, and is constructed a good distance northeast of downtown Santiago. It is surrounded to the south and to the east by a semi-sprawl of shanty houses mixed in with apartment buildings. The most interesting observation I made while driving through these areas to downtown was the presence of television satellites fixed to the side of the shanty houses. In my opinion, this confusion of priorities is fairly hard to understand, but I suppose one does have to watch those all important fútbol matches.

After a fifteen-plus hour travel experience I was hard pressed to switch into Spanish mode when I was initially greeted at the airport, but not too long into the day I found myself more comfortable both listening and speaking the language. By far and a way my reading skills are the most proficient, next is my listening which is about 80% proficient with Spanish and American taught speakers, and maybe about 50% with the native Chileans. Last place goes to speaking, which although understandable, is both awkward structurally and grammatically incoherent (so too is my English as I'm sure many of you will point out). At this moment, the eve of my second day in Chile, I am happy to report that I feel more comfortable in each aspect of Spanish than I did yesterday. I hope this trend continues.

The transition from the less developed neighborhoods to the commercial district of downtown Santiago is fairly smooth with a "natural" progression of increasing building density and gradual rise in the quality of construction. By the time I arrived at the hotel I scarcely noticed I had reached a major city center. Santiago has many buildings that are twenty to thirty stories tall, but they are fairly dispersed throughout the city so the city appears smaller than the six million population would suggest. The venue for my first Chilean meal was picked by Lise-Anne, the director of George Washington's Latin America study abroad program. She took us to an observatory restaurant with a 360 degree rotating floor in a downtown skyscraper. From the vantage point we could see most of the city, a brief outline of the impressive mountain range obscured almost entirely by dust, and a half completed concrete frame of the tallest building in South America. The city beams of ambition, a welcome idol in difficult times.

At any rate, I saw an Alfa Romeo Brera today on the street, which is interesting because Fiat hasn't had an American presence in decades. Anyways, hopefully every subsequent blog can be concluded by as meaningful an automobile anecdote as this one was.

Buenas Noches,
Charles
"Don Juan"