Calabaza Craziness

Well, I must say, I've really been getting into the Halloween spirit down here. I went to El Virgel fruteria yesterday to get some pumpkin (calabaza or zapallo) for lunch. It's usually sold in pre-cut pieces, but on a whim I asked if they had a whole one that I could use for a halloween decoration. "Go to the grocery store!" another customer told me. "They have plastic ones!" When I explained the pumpkin was for carving, which they do not really do here, they took me to the back room, where there was a big crate of grayish-orange pumkins for me to choose from. (BTW, this is the best fruit market in Natales, I think, with fresh produce--even watermelon!--direct from Santiago. They also have a huge jar of amazing homemade pickles, pronounced "PEEK-lays".) I just did the classic "pumpkin face" on the front, but it looks really cute sitting on our front porch, and Ale and Benja seem to like it. I also toasted the pumpkin seeds and then made pumpkin pie last night with the other trozo de calabaza that I got from the market. I always liked to cook and bake at home in Chicago, but it was something I rarely had time to do. Here in Natales, however, I have plenty of spare hours to don the "Yo (corazón) Chile" apron my host mom gave me, ignite the oven with a match, and bake away. Gosh, in the past week, I've done chocolate sugar cookies, oatmeal cookies, and pancakes! (And I've got some keffir on the way in another day...my yoga teacher gave me the cultures!)

Hiking the "W"

We did the "W" this past weekend! The "W" is the most popular backpacking trip at Torres del Paine, and in about four days, it goes pack some of the most stunning features of the park. Kate calculated our milage to come in at 95 km, which seems awfully high, but my feet would believe it. With a full backpack, the trip was without a doubt one of the most physically challenging things I've done. We had a great little group though, Kate, Charlie, Jeff, and Evan from here, and also Dan W. from Punta Arenas. We all got along swimmingly and had a blast. I was the shortest in the pack, and the slowest walker, but I'm just happy to have made it! Here is a little bit about how we did the "W." (There's a longer 8-day hike too, el circuito completo...but the path is currently closed due to an avalanche!)

Day 1: Camping at Los Torres, hiking up and back to el base de los torres - Thursday was the rainest day of our trip. Not a great way to start, and certainly the worst day to do our hike up to what many say is the park's most stellar site--el base de los torres. The hike up from camp is steeper than it looks, and it was tough in the rain. About an hour into the hike, Charlie, Jeff, and Dan decided to turn back--I couldn't blame them since they were without rain paints. Kate and Evan and I, in our impermiable gear, pressed on to the first refugio, El Chileno, in our impermiable gear. In the shelter, I gladly dropped an exorbatant mil pesos ($2) for a Nescafe--but in the rain, it may have been teh best coffee I've had here. We decided to keep going from El Chileno up to the base, even though we couln't see los torres or any of the other mountains around us because of the clouds. My rain pants were doing a bang-up job though, so I felt good to keep walking. We met a British couple at the campsite near el base (a great free site to camp at, espeically if you want to get up and see sunrise over the torres!). They looked really, really beaten by the weather--and had just done a monster day all the way from a campsite in the middle of the park. Evan gave them a coconut cookie--"You just about saved my life," our fellow trekker muttered. We decided to keep going in the rain, and began the steep hour-long walk up to the mirador, scrambling up large boulders and creeks, with only an orange marker here or there to guide us. We were pretty sure we were near the top, but couldn't see a thing in the weather, so we headed back since it was getting dark. It still turned out to be about 7 hours of hiking just to get up there and back. "What will the guys be doing?" we mused as we walked back to our campsite. Drunk? Napping? To our pleasant surprise, they had a great fire going by the time we got home--pefect for cooking baked potatos in the first of many delcious camp meals planned by Kate. (Also, the only site in the park, I think, where campfires are allowed, so worked out perfect!)

Day 2: Los Torres to Campamiento Italiano - We had fabulous, favorable weather--enough to get down to rolled up pants and a t-shirt! Woke up to our first glimpse of the torres right from our campsite--they were there all along! The hike to Italiano was pleasant but long, with beautiful acqua-colored Lago Nordenskjold alongside us most of the way and the bi-colored cuernos fiinally coming into view. By evening, we were making our way into the Valle Frances, to a wooded (and free!) campsite at Italiano.

Day 3: Hiking up and back el Valle Frances, Campamiento Italiano to Refugio Grey - At 9.5 hours on the trail, today was our longest day. We got up at 5:30 so we could do an early morning walk into the Valle Frances. The walk is a difficult one, we soon realized, with a lot of scrambling up boulders again on the way into the valley. I took a wrong turn (the path is marked pretty poorly at first) and found myself nearly walking into a gushing waterfall. Luckily my compañneros got me back on course--although I definitely slid down a huge rock to join up with them again. Once you are deep enough, and high enough in the valley, you get an amazing 360-degree view of los cuernos, the opposite side of los torres, and el glaciar frances. We heard and saw a lot of avalanches on the mountain as we were walking. That all felt like a dream however, by the time we returned to camp at about 11 with a full day of walking still ahead of us. We had a power vegetarian chili lunch at the quincho at Paine Grande and then pressed on up to Refugio Grey. I guess it was only 3.5 hours between Paine Grande and Grey, but it seemed much longer. However, this walk was one of my favorites--a lot of high cliffs with beautiful views of el glaciar grey and the enormous campo de hielo it connects to. When we reached the refugio at long last (all of us acting pretty goofy with fatigue at that point), I enjoyed my first shower in days, which was stupendous. Probably should have delayed on the shower, however, since it was raining by the time we had dinner. Jeff, and Charlie, and Evan stayed in the tents--but heavy rain did not stop Kate, and Dan, and I from enjoying homemade pasta sauce (there was a problem cooking the actual pasta) outside!

Day 4: Refugio Grey to Administración - Morning's task was the 3.5 hour hike down from Refugio Gray back and back to Paine Grande for lunch. We were still hurting pretty badly from our 9.5 hour day previous, but somehow managed to press on back at our own pace. Had to be careful of the time, however, as our bus was leaving at 6:30. From Paine Grande, it was still going to be another 5 hours back to Adminstracion. You can also pick up a catamaran at Paine Grande for a cool $11,000 ($22), which will take you back to a bus, but we were being typically tough and cheap, and decided to hike it. It was a mostly a flat hike on a dirt track through pampa, with the best scenery (a great overview of the park, as a friend pointed out) at our backs. The worst thing about this final leg was that it was just very monotnous and desolate. Not another hiker in site. I was walking alone most of it, trailing Kate and Evan (Dan and Charlie, at 6 feet plus, were unbelieveably fast). My feet and brain were both struggling to function--I tried resorting to that "name game" (i.e. Ella Fitzgerald. Francis Ford Coppola. Celine Dion. Etc.) but was too brain-dead to play, and btw, it does not work with one person. I caught up with Evan and Kate and found them as destroyed as I was, and still a gruelling 2 flat hours to go. We made it though, back to adminstracion, and a wating bus. The CONAF ranger gave us this survey to fill out at the end of our journey. It's funny in it's own right, I suppose, but at the time we were filling it out, it was the most hilarous thing ever, with all of us cracking up in our seats and exchanging glances.

That, in short, is the "W"--we had a terrific time walking it and pushing ourselves to the limit!

10-20-08

Update from Puerto Natales

• Kalaripayattu and Capoeira - Last Thursday, Kate and Casey and I went to a workshop (taller) featuring Kalaripayattu, a martial art from India with many poses from yoga, and Capoeira, the incredible Afro-Brazilian combination of martial art and dance. A group of about 30 gathered in the high school for a lesson with two artists from India and Brazil--about half the group was Chilean and the other half from abroad. Though the workshop was just the briefest introduction, it was still quite a workout for the legs--I lack ginga pretty badly, it's the basic back and forth rhythm that Capoeira depends on. In addition to practicing kicks, walks, and stretches, we also did quite a bit of clapping, with little groups chanting and clapping their own rhythm. The two instructors, Manu from India and Jair from Brazil, were also incredible musicians, and there was a great concert afterward, combining Indian drums and cymbols, the berimbau, and Manu's strong and clear voice. He sang in a dialect from southern India, sometimes to an Indian beat, sometimes to samba. It was a really cool event--and just fabulous to have a little bit of culture at night. In Chicago, it's accurate to say that every night you could choose to experience any number of cultures--just thinking of the Summerdance schedule makes my mouth water...Slavic soul party one night, stepping the next, square dancing another. In Puerto Natales, such opportunities are unfortuantely few and far between. So it was just great that these two interesting people were able to come to town.
• Cave paintings - Ricardo, the director of my school invited me and a few other volunteers to the campo early Saturday morning to judge an "adventure triathalon" near Laguna Sofia and then look at cave paintings afterward. Students from local high schools had a pretty serious task--run up the very steep Cerro Benitez, rapel down the cliff, then mountain bike to a checkpoint and back--we were impressed! Afterward, we had a cup of coffee with the help of Ricardo's little gas stove, and also delicious fresh-baked bread from his señora (as well as incredible cheese which came out of a tube). The hike up to the cave was only about an hour or so, but it was very very steep. The entrance to most caves in side of the cerro used to be at the water level of an ancient lake, which has long since disappeared, so everything is a little hard to get to. We scrabbled up some cliff, ambling around enormous bolt-shaped erratic rocks, until we reached this underhang of conglomerate. A pile of wood had been gathered to mark the spot of the paintings--and there they were on the ceiling. We tried to decipher the messages that were left in red vegetable dye--Were those dots the scales of a fish? Were those long lines a pair of legs?--but it's going to take some study. Ricardo took lots of photos and measurements, so hopefully I'll have an update soon.
• "You're a model." At our debate watch party last Wednesday, Cristian from Malabar asked me to say yes as soon as I walked in the door. I never imagined my response would result in my modeling a white pleather jacket with white cowboy boots in a fashion show Saturday night. He had handpicked all of us gringos to participate in what he was calling an "international fashion show" for charity. Kate and I had to laugh when we saw the flyer--which featured two very sleazy looking female figures (a blonde and a brunette) looking over their shoulder on the back of a motorcycle. So Friday we went to pick out our clothes at a little "boutique" called Alem. We had free reign to pick out anything for the show--but between the pleather jackets, stretchy nylon tops, and billowing babydoll dresses, we had to get creative. (Our lucky guy voluteers simply got to wear their own clothes!) Anyway, Saturday turned out to be a pretty fun night. The show started at 1 a.m. and the bar was packed. Kate and I and two Chilean women downed piscolas and tossed around clothes and hangars as we changed in the bar's tiny bathroom. But in the end--after going from a fucsia coat, to my white jacket, to a black and yellow moo-moo--everything turned out fine! At the end of the night, Casey and I stopped by a cousin's baptismal reception, which was just winding down at 5 a.m.--just in time for torta!
• Fish tacos & Sunday brunch - Casey bumped into Laura, who was a volunteer here last year, but now live in Natales with her Chilean novio (and teaches English to Chinese students over the Internet!). We had amazing fish tacos at her house Friday and then on Sunday, the best brunch ever! It was great to get out of bed, hop on my bike, grab some fruit at the fruiteria, and then gather with a truly international group at Laura's to make pancakes, eggs, fruit salad, and chai. If I ever were to stay in Natales, I would hope I'd be able to create a situation as cozy and comfortable as Laura's--with great friends, and without having to sacrifice the pleasures of North America, like Sunday brunch! The chai brought back many fond memories of brunch at Lula and Victory's Banner.
• Head, shoulders, knees, and toes - I can't believe it, but I only have about five weeks of school left here in Natales. And the thing is, I am finally starting to feel like I'm getting the hang of things! Yesterday, I thought my fourth graders would think "Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes" was way too juvenile...but as it turns out, they loved it. Not to mention "If You're Happy and You Know It" as well as "The Hokey Pokey." (I thought the same thing when I brought a stuffed animal in to help with conversation, but they liked that too!) My classroom (which somedays is mine, and sometimes is bogarted) is finally starting to look like one--on the wall, verbs are conjugated, key questions are in speech bubbles, student postcards are on the wall, as are lifesize, labeled drawings of several bodies.

10-11-08 Canadian Thanksgiving

Canadian volunteer Kate organized a fabulous (alternative) "Canadian Thanksgiving" dinner at her and Casey's host family's house this past Saturday. I admit, I was not aware Canada celebrated Thanksgiving. "Canadian Thanksgiving"...it sounded so cute...so quaint.

But our elegant meal was anything but quaint. Kate's family set a table for eleven with all of their best dishes...even antique crystal wine coasters! Kate and Casey got a huge bucket of clams and mussels and spent all afternoon de-barnacling them. The result was a beautiful linguini with white wine, cherry tomatoes, and mariscos in their black and white shells. The best part was the salad, which included leafy green lettuce, fresh strawberries, and brie. "Salad" in Chile is generally iceburg lettuce with lemon juice, and strawberries are better known as "frutilla," which comes in a can of sugary syrup, so you can imagine how these "forbidden tastes" struck us all--we all left them back in North America at the height of summer salad season.

My contribution included homemade macaroni and cheese and a cookie tray--I was able to use some of the Halloween candy my mom sent to make a festive variety.

It was so nice being able to get together and give thanks. To Canada!

10-09-08

I met the man who makes the milodons today. The hulking figure of a giant prehistoric sloth, its arms outstretched towards the water, reaching for its cave 10 miles out, has been living at the roundabout for a few weeks now. It looks less like a prehistoric animal than it does a representation of death, because it is covered by a giant black tarp, billowing in the Patagonian wind. Only the milodn's clawed bronze feet are uncovered, as if the poor creature was an unfortunate patient in a hospital dressing gown.

I saw the man with the long yellowish white beard and sunglasses arranging rocks around the base of the milodon just as the evening was settling in, and I was coming back from a bike ride. I almost didn't stop--until curiosity took hold of me, an instinct I know is inherited from my mother (who sent me the most fabulous care package today--Halloween candy and books--yes!). So I stopped to say hello.

The man arranging the rocks is sculptor called Harold (last name--TK). He also crafted the giant milodon in the cueva--which I put my arms around to pose for a picture I'm quite fond of. The rocks, which were begining to tower up toward the milodon's feet in a graceful slant, were from what I think Harold said was a morraine deposited by the glaciers. He asked me what my language was and went on to speak in an elegant, quiet, and cadenced English. His father Për was Swedish, I think, and his family had owned land in the region. Although he had grown up around Natales and Punta Arenas, he was based in Santiago, where he worked as a sculptor. He told me some of his family had relocated to Chicago, and he had visited once--but it seemed for some reason that he was not able to find them.

He told me about a Chilean mummy--the Copper Man--which, through an auction, had wound up at the Museum of Natural History in New York. Chile has always wanted this mummy back, he said, and one of his projects as a sculptor was to go to New York to make a cast of this Copper Man to bring back to Chile.

"This is a special animal to the people here," Harold said of his milodon. "And Magallanes is a special region to me."

The tarp comes off next Tuesday.

10-07-08

Watch Parties
The "Watch Parties" that CNN flashes to during the debates look terribly un-festive. Here in Puerto Natales, we've been having a lot more fun. Even if it's hard to hear our favorite catchphrases such as "you betcha," "maverick," "wall street versus main street," and most recently "that one," the debates have been a welcome reason for a weeknight get-together, exoitc foods such as burritos, guacamole, and pizza, as well as a drink or two. Oh, and I just heard from the city that my absentee ballot is on its way. Go Obama!

Claudia
Claudia is the inspectora at my school. She is a large and severe-looking woman with a delantal that is often stained and rumpled, thick, tinted lenses that remain dark inside, and a hefty neck dotted with moles. I liked her as soon as I met her, because she is the only person in the school, it seems, to whom the students show unyielding resepct. All Chilean schools have an inspector or inspectora--an official disciplinarian. I merely have to mention the name Tía Claudia and I watch my students perk up and stiffen in their seats. She has rescued me on more than one occasion now when my class is out of order, barging into the room to shout, "Hey, la tiá didn't come from thousands of miles away to put up with this crap!" Outside of class, she's funny and kind, offering me a wad of cold bread pudding on a plate or giving me the lowdown on certain students and Natalinos--"Watch out for the ones with dreadlocks," she warned. "Lice!"

Claudia told me she liked my block-letter printing, and she asked if I could help her with a plaque she was going to leave in her mother's niche--the little box shrine visible in the wall of graves at many Chilean cemetaries. (Photographs are often also left in these displays--the country is much more inclined to show and remember what the deceased looked like in life, which makes the graveyard more personal than a name and a number.) Claudia had chosen a few words of poetry from a library book, beginning "Nunca jamás," never again, and with her guidance I wrote them on a posterboard cutout of a dove another teacher had drawn. Claudia was going to take the dove to the jail, where the inmates run a serigraph workshop for engraving wood.

10-05-08

The wind and rain caught up with our camping trip this weekend. I joined my host mom, fellow volunteer Charlie, and the Cecelia, profe de educación física, as well as 13 alumnos from the Polytechnic school, for a three-day trip to Torres del Paine. I hate to say it, but it went pretty terribly. The laid back Chilean onda did not serve us well--our route changed at the last minute (so instead of doing a chunk of the famous "W" hike, we wound up sitting in a rainy quincho all day), and our tiny two-person tent was packed with three. The alumnos didn't seem to be picking up any outdoor skills--at least one was offering me créme de menthe for breakfast (go figure, things are more relaxed here)--and three managed to come into my tent at night to ask me stupid questions. ("Elisabet, What are you doing?") Charile and I did a fair bit of lamenting, considering how we would do things differently, but in the end we just made the best of it, met some interesting folks from Hong Kong and Israel, and did get in a few day hikes, in which we were almost knocked down by windgusts. The rope suspension bridge just before the Campamiento Italiano in the Valle Frances was a lot of fun.

10-01-08

"Ahora empieza la temporada del viento," a Chilean friend mused, sinking into a cushy red chair and looking out from a large picture window. Logs crackled in a woodstove while wind lashed the air outside, which had turned frighteningly cold.

Now begins the season of the winds. How could it be? It was supposed to be spring. I thought I'd left the worst weather behind me in the Patagonian winter, but apparently awful winds arrive in the spring--and even worse ones in summer. It snowed today for the first time in weeks, and it may have been the first time I've seen hail down here at all. My now familiar mountains have been obscured in low, gray cloud whihc looks like a sinister dust storm or twister on the horizon, but it is just more cold, damn wind.