Pichilemu: ladron de mi corazon

On the way to the hostel

Anyone reading this blog knows I'm from California, but what you might not know is I'm something of an amphibious creature.  Okay, that sounds weirder than I meant for it to, but it's true.  I love the water.  I love being in the water, being near the water, hearing the water...if you stick me next to an ocean I'm happy.  In fact, in the last 6 years (minus the time spent here in Chile) I've barely lived further than 6 blocks from the beach.  It's something I just like to have around.  I feel like I belong to the waves.  They move me.

That being said, although I love living in Santiago, a city of 7 million filled with public transportation, stray dogs and smog, sometimes I feel the need to follow my fishy instincts and head to the coast.  Pichilemu is a beach that has been recommended to me by absolutely everyone, especially the surfers in my life.  I never got around to going there last year so when we had a three day weekend pop up and two of my friends suggested we take advantage of it and head west I was all for it.  Fresh air in my lungs and sand under my feet; I might as well be in heaven.

Just outside the hostel

 We took a bus Saturday afternoon and sadly missed the opportunity to take the faster bus.  There are two routes to Pichilemu and one includes about 500,000 stops at various little towns along the way.  I was advised against this route but when we arrived at the terminal it was the only option left so we had to take it.  We arrived to the coast just as the sun was setting and it was absolutely spectacular.  Something about coming around a bend and seeing the pacific ocean laid out in front of you always takes my breath away.  The road to the beach looked so much like California I almost felt like I was back there.  There was even a spot that was virtually interchangeable with Napa.  Dark green hills in the back framing vineyards with a railroad track by the road.  Needless to say even before I got to Pichilemu I felt at home there.

Walking down to the water

 That night we stayed in Surf Hostal Pichilemu.  We reserved a dorm room but since this is the off (off, off, off) season the dorms weren't open.  Since the website didn't specify that we got to stay in one of the private rooms for the same price and they are usually twice as expensive.  The rooms were clean with a private bathroom, ocean view and the warmest and most wonderful down comforters I've ever encountered.  We intended to cook dinner to save some money but the stove had no gas in it so we went out to dinner.  After dinner we tried out the local nightlife in the form of the Waitara club.  We managed to talk our way in for half the cover and had a great time dancing.

Self explanatory

 The next morning we woke up to sunshine and the sound of the roaring ocean.  We tried to check out but no one was there so we left our stuff at the hostel and went down to the beach.  The water was frigid but the temperature outside was actually lovely.  We were warmer than we've been in Santiago in weeks.  Despite the season there were a number of surfers out taking advantage of the rolling waves.  I made a promise to myself to come back and learn to surf by the end of spring so I can come down in the summer and paddle out with the pros. 

By the road

 The town is absolutely adorable.  Although most of the people there don't live there it really doesn't feel like a tourist town.  Many of its roads are dirt and there were horses everywhere.  It was so unassuming and fantastic.  Few towns can just rely on their natural awesomeness but this one definitely can.  In fact, the way we ended up paying for our hostel was running into the dueña in the middle of the "road" (dirt path) and paying her with the cash we had on us.  Things like that make me love South American even more.

Horses and cars mingling together

Pichilemu

 For lunch we ate outside and for 1,990 pesos (less than $4 US) we had fresh fried fish and french fries.  It is essential to eat the seafood in the coastal towns here.  The quality is so high and it is always fresh off the boat.  We wandered around the town a bit after lunch and got an ice cream cone to eat in the park.  Our bus left at 4pm and this time we got on the one that went straight to Santiago.  I fell 100% in love with Pichilemu and can't wait to go back.  It lived up to every expectation.

The road to the hostel

Photo credits: Jenna Rymer

Puras fotos no mas

The snow-covered Andes outside my teacher's lounge window

I haven't taken a lot of photos this time around in Chile so here's a post entirely of pictures.  Enjoy!

The usual mess complete with coffee, textbooks, cookies, binder etc.

A building below mine

Sunset outside my window

Students during oral presentations

They got so into it!

This group sang "Wonderwall" by Oasis and did magic tricks.  A+!

My students are awesome

Design students

More oral presentations

"Human packaging" project by one of my students in a design class

5/30 - 6/3

I can't believe this week is finally over.  It's the kind of week that feels like it started a month ago.  I never thought it would end. 

Monday was pretty normal.  Got up nice and late (late for me is around 9am) and got to school by 11:30.  I like Mondays, I only have two classes right in a row so I get to go home by 2:30.  On Monday nights I like to bake cookies for my coworkers because I have some extra time.  I've been doing it for about a month and everyone really appreciates it.  I made snickerdoodles this week.  The trick is to cook them for about a minute less than the recipe calls for so they're nice and squishy.  Okay, so Monday went off without a hitch.  Then came Tuesday.

Tuesday was payday.  With the new class I've taken on since one of the other gringa teachers left I'm supposed to be making 490,000 pesos a month versus 430,000 a month.  And this month I was supposed to get an extra 15,000 for the three classes I picked up the month before.  In Chile, if you're not a citizen, you can't get a bank account, which means that you have to go to a bank and wait in an incredibly long and slow-moving line for an hour or two to cash your check.  The earlier you can get to the bank the better, especially because banks all close at 2pm (what the hell) so after my 8:30 class ended at 10 I went to pick up my paycheck so I could run over to the bank and cash it.  Shockingly my check was not for the right amount.  It was for the previous amount.  This is very typical of Chile, but I was PISSED.  Until I get that money I'm essentially working extra hours for free.  They had over 6 weeks to change whatever needed to be changed in the system and failed miserably.  My director assures me I'll receive the money by the 15th.  We'll see.

There were a couple things I was preparing for this Tuesday.  The first thing was a meeting between me, my director and the director of the major of the class of girls I'd had such a problem with two weeks earlier.  (You may remember that blog.)  My director decided it would be a good idea for her to meet with them with their director so they could understand the severity of the situation.  She sent them all an email that their presence was mandatory.  Even so, still, three of them were missing.  I wasn't expecting her to lay into them the way that she did, but I have to say it was incredibly satisfying.  She told them, in no uncertain terms, that as adults they are responsible for their schoolwork.  They are expected to come to class, they are expected to do the online work and they are expected to do outside work and studying.  These are three things that we have physical proof that they don't do because we can monitor their attendance, their online work and when my director tried to take the study CD out of a student's book she couldn't even get it out as it had clearly never been used.  One of them spoke up and said that their friends in other classes get supplementary material from their teachers and that I should be giving the same stuff to them.  My director replied that I was not required to do anything extra for them and that if they had ever logged into their online work they would see that all the supplementary material is there, accessible and available at all times.  Another student complained about the fact that I only speak in English (which is just blatantly untrue) but my director shut her up quickly by saying "Guess what, I take a Mandarin Chinese class and it's given in Mandarin Chinese.  Sometimes I'm confused, but you will never learn English if your teacher only speaks Spanish to you."  This is something I've told them before.  I am no stranger to language classes, but at a basic level they are almost always given entirely in the foreign language so that the learner is forced into learning.  BUT the only way that works is if they supplement the class with outside work, which these students don't do so it's no wonder they are having so much trouble.   My director also pointed out that the classes given by native speakers are generally coveted by students and that many students beg to be switched into those classes because they recognized the advantage.  She made quite an impact and my students seemed fairly downtrodden after the interview.  While I don't want them to be upset or discouraged these are things they need to know and understand in order to be successful in anything, especially in school. 

The second thing I was working on for Tuesday was a presentation.  A few weeks back my boss and another woman at Duoc asked me to prepare a presentation, in English, about how to present yourself in an interview and how to write a CV.  The presentation was supposed to be part of a three-day series of presentations given by various members of staff.  I made a powerpoint presentation and I was also supposed to go through a mock interview with a student.  I was really nervous!  The last time I made a speech was my 8th grade graduation.  I had lots of support in the form of my director and other English teachers.  I even met some of the higher-ups in the Duoc family.  In the end the whole thing was fine and I got a free Duoc coffee thermos.  That Tuesday I was at school for 13 hours.  As one of my fellow teachers said "Now you're really part of Duoc."  Thankfully the school paid for us to take a cab home. 

Is it only Wednesday?

Wednesdays are pretty easy too.  I have to get there earlier than Mondays but I still only have to stay until 2:30.  I ended up leaving around 3 because I waited for my friend Emma who was leaving early because she was sick.  Wednesday evening was a nice one.  I had a chance to go to the gym and met up with some friends for wine and appetizers later at a local bar.  I ended up getting home around 1am are few things more depressing than setting your alarm for 6am at 1am. 

8:30 Thursday morning I was in for another long day.  4 classes right in a row.  The first three were relatively painless, although I was exhausted.  The fourth one is one of my favorite classes.  But that day a few students came in to tell me that no one would be coming to class because of a project due the next day in their design class.  The professor of that class is a friend of mine and I've gotten on his case before for stealing my students.  He told me that if they ever do that I am not to pardon them.  I can't really do much in terms of punishing them.  I mark them absent but since the attendance policy is a joke it's not much of a punishment.  I stayed for about an hour as a few of them trickled in to see their quiz grades and left the classroom at 3:30.  On my way out one of the other English teachers caught me and asked if I had time them to do Duoc Talks.  Duoc Talks are something I agreed to participate in that basically consists of me sitting with a bunch of Chilean students while they ask me questions about myself.  It's an opportunity for them to practice English in a conversational setting.  This week it was a class full of guys (for some reason the only people that ever sign up for anything I'm involved in are men) and it was such a bizarre experience.  I have never felt more interesting.  They literally seemed to be hanging on every word I said.  It was a lot of fun, the guys were really nice and afterward Valeska (the organizer), Ximena (another English teacher), Max (design professor) and I had a nice "once" (Chilean tea time).  I stayed at school until about 6 that night grading quizzes and then had a horrid trip home on the bus/metro.  6pm is officially the worst time to do that.  I got home at 7:30, ran back out to the grocery store, and by the time I was home, fed and ready for bed it was 10. 

Oh good, it's Friday.  Only 9 hours and 3 classes stand between me and the weekend. After my first class I went down to the first level to check out the project all my design students had skipped out my class for.  They had to design boxes for gourment chocolates, showcasing the process and concepts used to create them.  Their professor told me that the directors of the Duoc design program were coming "Para ver que onda" which basically means they were coming in to see how the program is going at this campus.  The boxes were so cool!  My students all eagerly showed me which ones they made.  I'm so proud of them!  It's cool to see how much they can excel in something they enjoy and are interested in, although that class excels in English too.  They're a bunch of smarties.  And at the end of the showcase Max told me "no estamos despedidos", meaning they're not fired, so the showcase went well.

My class in the middle of the day on Fridays is another favorite.  It's six guys who are all very smart and eager to learn.  We went from learning how to talk about wishes in English to me teaching them the rules of beer pong and flip cup.  I like classes I can goof around with and talk about things that actually interest them because we can get through the material so quickly. 

My last class on Fridays is my dreaded class.  I thought I'd make things easier by speaking almost entirely in Spanish because I'm just so sick of fighting them.  Even in Spanish they are completely clueless.  I had four students in a row ask me what the word "that" meant after I had already explained the direct translation into Spanish.  Four of them.  I could see the eyes of a couple of the smarter students flicker looks of empathy my way.  I think some of them understand that this class is easily just as much of a struggle for me as for them. 

I finally got out of there at 6.  Home by 7:30.  At a Mexican restaurant by 8:30.  In bed by 11:30.  Maybe today I'll just sleep.

What a bad day in Chile looks like...

Okay, well, I suppose after a series of super-awesome-amazing days I had to see this coming.  There was bound to be a bad day in there somewhere.  Mine was today.

This week we are giving tests meaning that the first class of the week is review and the second is a test.  I had four classes without incident.  We actually have evaluations due this week, wherein the students evaluate us.  All four of my first classes of the week assured me that they gave me great evaluations.  They all asked me if I would be their teacher next semester and begged me to come back to teach them for their second semester.  I was feeling pretty great.  My students seem to genuinely like me and most of them are doing very well and clearly learning a great deal.

Then, today, I had the class that challenges me week after week.

It is a group of about ten girls who are studying to be notaries.  Their English is insanely limited.  I have three basic classes and in the other two I speak Spanish maybe 10% of the time but the rest is said in English.  This forces them to pay attention and also to become accustomed to my accent and manner of speaking.  In these two classes if the students don't understand, they ask me to repeat or ask me to explain.  All my students know that I have no problem answering any question they throw at me, that I will never make fun of them and that I will always do my best to answer everything. 

I have always had problems with this one basic class.  They are hesitant to ask questions, I have to drag answers out of them constantly and when I speak even the simplest English they look at me like I'm a martian.  This was permissible  the first couple weeks.  They came in with a less than basic knowledge of English and I had to teach them things like the alphabet, numbers and simple questions like "What's your name?"  and "Where are you from?"  However, as the weeks saunter on the clueless looks and questions like "Que significa 'mas'?" become tiresome.  While my other classes have been constantly progressing this one has been at something of a standstill.  Part of that has to do with the fact that the attendance is extremely poor.  Out of ten students typically four or five show up, often without books and always without the urge to learn.  I understand that English is a difficult language to master and the way the classes are scheduled (2 classes of 1.5 hours a week) makes it hard to learn properly, but all these students are adults.  Most of them are older than me.  They are capable of studying outside of class, of coming to me for help and of doing outside work.

Today was the review day before the test.  We had a midterm 4 classes ago and we have another on Friday.  The class after the midterm no one showed up.  The next class 5 showed up without their books.  The next class 3 showed up but I went home ill in the middle of it.  Today I told them we could start 45 minutes early because we had most of the unit to cover and theoretically only one class to cover it.  For the first hour or so of the class things were going smoothly.  There were about 8 students there, a recent record, and they seemed to be understanding the new concepts.  I was speaking in mostly Spanish for the sake of time.  I assigned them an activity to do and left the room to go to the bathroom.  When I came back I was walking into an ambush.

One student immediately asked me why we couldn't push the test back to next week.  I told her simply that it wasn't my decision when the tests were given.  Another student immediately started complaining about the fact that there hadn't been enough time since the last test to learn the new material.   I pointed out to her that she'd missed the last three classes so it was difficult for me to be empathetic.  The continued to complain about the test and then began to criticize the way I teach.  The said that they wished they had Chilean teachers because apparently my level of Spanish isn't up to par with what they need.  I told them that they would never learn English if I only spoke to them in Spanish but they didn't seem to care.  They told me I don't support them, that I don't give them enough help, enough guidance before tests.  Other teachers are better.  Other teachers are more helpful.  Other teachers speak more Spanish.  GUESS WHAT LADIES...I'M NOT CHILEAN.

I could feel myself getting to a dangerous point and I didn't want to lose control and start screaming at all of them like I wanted.  I told them simply that whatever problems they had with me or with the English department they could register them with my boss.  I told them where to find her and what her name is.  I told them that I have nothing to do with when the tests or given, that I don't write the tests, that it's not my decision how often the classes meet.  All things you would think that a class full of adults would be able to understand.  I told them if they didn't like my class they should go speak to my director and ask to switch.  They told me all the other classes are full.  So I guess they already tried. 

I was close to tears at this point so I gave them a worksheet and left them in the room for about half an hour.  I wanted fresh air and to calm down.  I came back to them and told them that we were done for the day and that we would start class early again on Friday.  I also told them we could push the test back to next week.  It seemed to appease them and they were cheerful as they left the classroom.  I doubt they know just how much they upset me.

I am not someone who takes my responsibilities lightly.  I feel responsible for each one of my students.  I want them all to succeed and I try as hard as I can even when they don't try at all.  None of them has a clue what it's like to be thrown into a culture you're not accustomed to, speaking a language that isn't your own, without any training.  I want to be a teacher for the rest of my life and I am genuinely hurt by students who imply that I don't support them and that I don't care about them.  The hurt my feelings, they hurt my pride and I don't feel that I deserved it. 

My friend and fellow teacher gave me a ride home and gave me a pep talk.  He told me that students who are failing always look for somewhere to put the blame.  He said "Tu eres lo que eres, y nada mas, y si a alguien no le gustas olvidalo."  (You are who you are and nothing more and if someone doesn't like you, forget them.)  He said that I shouldn't worry about it but the fact that I am worried means I care and that's important.  He cheered me up a bit but I still feel like a piece of you-know-what. 

I'm hoping a good night's sleep and maybe a chat with my director tomorrow will put me right.  Then I can get back to my good-day streak. 

Baila, gringa, baila!

Well, today was theoretically just a typical day in Chile.  I had two classes to give and they both went relatively well.  One was a basic class and one was an intermediate.  I like Wednesdays, they are pretty easy and I like both the classes I teach.  My Tuesday-Thursday 8:30 AM class asked me earlier in the week if I'd like to get a drink with them today.  I said "yes" hoping to get to know some of my students better.  Today we went to a bar called "La Piojera."  I've been there several times.  It's kind of a tourist spot and at the same time totally, authentically Chilean.  My students, although Chilean, had never been there and my friend Jenna had never been there either so I invited her. 

We started the night with one "terremoto."  This is a Chilean drink compose of wine, fernet (Argentine liquor) and pineapple ice cream.  We were talking, singing and having a great time.  My students are all around my age so we have a lot to talk about.  It was nice to get to know them outside of an academic atmosphere.  We talked about love lives, jobs and they wanted to ask me a lot about the US.  They are one of my favorite classes.  Such a fun group. Then we ordered another terremoto...and another.  Then another professor from my campus joined us.  By then we were having a blast.  Singing with the band that was playing, singing alone.  At one point I got up to use the restroom where I was followed by applause from some of the Chilean men in the bar.  On the way back I was welcomed by the chant "Baila, gringa, baila!" which basically means, "dance, blonde girl, dance!"  So, I danced a little, to more applause, and then sat back down. 

Me with my new hat and heart balloon

We left a little while later, my class telling me to be sure to be there tomorrow at 8:30!  The assured me they would be there too, but we'll see.  Before we headed to the metro my friend Jenna wanted to check out a shoe store that she'd seen.  She wanted to buy some boots, since we're heading into winter.  In the store there were four male employees.  Each employee treated us like we were the best thing they'd ever seen.  They were helpful, to the point of almost being annoying and Jenna got the boots she wanted.  On our way out they asked us out for drinks, gave us hats with their store's name on them, took pictures of us for some ads and gave us heart-shaped balloons.  Not an unusual night in Chile.

Lagrimas Para Patagonia

I don't know if this has made the international news but recently the Chilean government passed a bill which will allow hydroelectric dams to be built in the Patagonian wilderness in the south of Chile.  They passed it despite the fact that over 60% of Chileans opposed it and now people are mad.  And if there's one thing Chileans know how to do, it's let everyone know just how mad they are by protesting.  Last night, this happened:
Movilización Nacional NO A HIDROSAYÉN (The website is run by a friend of mine)

For those of you who can't read Spanish this was basically a call to people all over Chile to mobilize and march.  There were designated meeting areas in a number of cities throughout the country.  Everyone was told to wear something green and carry a candle.  Here in Santiago they marched through the center of the town to La Moneda, which is the Chilean equivalent of the White House.  My friend, Jenna, lives right on one of the streets they were marching down so we came down during the fifth or sixth wave of the march to get in on it a little.  We walked with them a bit until we hit a row of carabineros (policemen).  The march pushed passed them but we had to run to the grocery store.  After we finished shopping we came out to find that we were caged into the store because the protest had gotten out of hand.  People were running to escape the water cannons and tear gas.  They opened the gates to let some people in to get away from the police.  We stayed in there for a few minutes until they let us out.  We should have waited longer.

Even though the tear gas wasn't visible anymore it was lingering in the air.  And even though Jenna's apartment was less than a block away, a block full of tear gas is a painful one to pass through.  As we walked I could feel it stinging my eyes and we started coughing.  Just when we entered her building I caught a huge cloud of it in my face.  It was so painful I couldn't open my eyes.  The tears were streaming down my face and I felt sick to my stomach.  That stuff is no joke! 

We got back up to her apartment where a Chilean friend told us not to put water on it because it makes it worse.  I just pressed a dry towel against my face for about five minutes until the stinging subsided.  It was a painful experience but I was proud to be tear-gassed to save the Patagonian wilderness.  The hydroelectric dams will RUIN that area of the world without even providing that much energy.  The protests are going to continue.  The Chilean government should be scared.

Jami and me, post tear gas

Mendoza: Part II

Some of my readers (okay, that sounds completely pretentious) may remember that I had an eventful trip to Mendoza last year.  It was a free trip put on my the Chilean government and I spent more time at the border than in the actual city of Mendoza.  This time I was prepared for the worst.  I bought snacks, charged my iPod, brought a book, but this time the traveling went off without a hiccup.  We took an overnight bus, which left from Santiago around 11pm and arrived in Mendoza at about 5am with less than an hour at the border.  Everything was going perfectly.  Famous last words.

Arriving at 5am was a bit of a surprise.  All the experience I'd had and others had at the border pointed to a longer trip and we expected to arrive around 8 or 9am and then we were hopeful we could check into our room.  Turns out, you can't really do that at 5am without buying a bed for the night and that becomes tricky when the whole hostel is booked.  Luckily we were in South America, which means that things stay open all night so we went to try to find a club.  The clubs weren't letting anyone in so we found a cafe that sold liters of Argentine beer (Quilmes, my favorite) and sat outside in the cold trying to pass the time.  After some walking and exploring we decided to retire to the couches inside the hostel.  After less than two hours of sleep we went to exchange our money into Argentine pesos and get breakfast to alleviate the crankiness that was quickly building.  After some sandwiches and coffee we were rejuvenated and we arrived back to the hostel to find that we could check in.  I enjoyed one of the best hostel showers of my life there.

The hostel offered a wine tour on a bus for a mere 75 Argentine pesos (about $20 US) which included tastings at two different wineries, an olive press and a chocolateria.  The first winery was family owned and small.  They had quite a few varietals and gave us a nice tour.

Vineyards at Cecchin Family Winery

Tasting at Cecchin

From left: Emma (my coworker), Me and Jenna

Friends outside Cecchin.  From left: Jami, me, Jenna, Kortnee

I bought a bottle of Malbec there, which is a varietal in which Argentina specializes, and then sadly broke it on my way out of the hostel the next day.  It's alright, though, because my friend shared her Malbec rosé with me, which was something I'd never heard of before.

Vineyards at the larger winery

After Cecchin we went to a larger more industrial winery.  The tour there was quicker and they showed us their underground storage.  Frankly, I'm a bit of a veteran when it comes to wine country so the tours didn't peak my interest too much.  The tasting there had a bit more variety and we tried a couple varietals I had never heard of. 

Onward we went to the olive press.  Our tour guide was pretty weird and kind of spoke like a robot so I didn't get much out of the tour but the olive trees were lovely and the old equipment was cool to look at.  We had a tasting of oil, olives and tapenade that couldn't have come at a better time since no one had eaten since breakfast and we were all full of wine.

The spread at the olive press

Finally we hit up a chocolateria/licoria that I actually visited last year.  We tried a lot of chocolate, chocolate liqueurs, dulce de leche and smoked cheese.  I wanted to buy everything in site but on the meager salary of a teacher I could only afford the bottle of wine I'd bought earlier.  And that of course I later destroyed.

That night we had dinner at a parrilla, which is an Argentine restaurant that specializes in meat, meat and more meat.  Everyone ordered steak, because you just have to order steak in Argentina.  I split a steak with Emma and our meal also came with a bottle of Malbec and dessert.  Needless to say we were fat, happy and a little tipsy when we left the restaurant.  We passed the rest of the night sipping on some of the wine we had bought throughout the day and I and about half the group called it an early night so as not to be completely dead the next day.

Jenna and me outside our hostel

We checked out at 10 and had about three hours to kill before half of us left for Santiago.  The rest of the group was determined to squeeze every single drop of adventure out of the trip so they planned another overnight bus trip.  Having been to Mendoza once before I wasn't dismayed to leave a little early in hopes of getting a good night's sleep.

The bus trip home was almost uneventful.  About and hour before we hit the border one of our bus' tires blew out, rocking the bus and scaring the buh-jeezus out of me and my friend, Lindsey.  Our driver pulled over and the men on the bus promptly exited and got to work putting on a spare.  I couldn't help but note the difference in the attitude of the passengers in comparison to what I would imagine would be the attitude of the passengers in the same situation in the US.  No one was flipping out, no one was getting on their Blackberrys, no one was screaming at the driver.  Everyone sat patiently until we could safely drive to have it repaired and that fact alone made the experience so much more tolerable.  The energy in the air wasn't strained and irritated, everyone was calm and chilled out.  I love this country.

We pulled into the "mechanic" which was an empty field with a shack in it that appeared to be abandoned.  After a couple minutes we saw a young boy (maybe 13 years old) cruising over on an ATV.  He dismounted and promptly began to work on the bus.  No one seemed to be concerned about this so Lindsey and I hopped off the bus and played with a local stray puppy for a while.  After less than an hour we were all back on the bus and headed to the border.  Another uneventful border experience, three more hours on the bus and I was back home in smoggy Santiago with a couple more stamps on my passport and some more good memories under my belt.

Photo credits: Jami Herring