Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
took a hike this weekend....
It has been to long since I updated or anything, many apologies but I just haven't made it anywhere near the blog lately.
Here is a photo from this weekend, I will try to post some more, if I get a chance while I'm up here at the mine.
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
So I haven't managed to update lately...
It has been hard to get myself to update the blog lately, I have been super busy going between the mine, Santiago, my new internship at the Santiago Times, social life, friends, girlfriend, celebrating diezyocho, Chile's independence day.
This last weekend I went to Talca to celebrate the national holiday with some of Carolina's friends. It is starting to look like springtime, which is really nice after a succession of rainy cold weekends in Santiago. We drank lots of wine and chicha, a national drink that tastes like cider that spent a little too much time sitting the fridge. Chica is a little better, has some sugar added and all.
The weekend before that I went to the coast, laid on the beach and ate some sea food. I have several pictures from both weekends and will post them when I get back to Santiago. For now I wait for students to arrive, it is a beautiful day up here at the mine, blue sky, nice and warm. Tomarrow is the first day of spring, and I am more than ready to start some outdoor activities. Some hiking in the Andes this weekend if all goes well.
This last weekend I went to Talca to celebrate the national holiday with some of Carolina's friends. It is starting to look like springtime, which is really nice after a succession of rainy cold weekends in Santiago. We drank lots of wine and chicha, a national drink that tastes like cider that spent a little too much time sitting the fridge. Chica is a little better, has some sugar added and all.
The weekend before that I went to the coast, laid on the beach and ate some sea food. I have several pictures from both weekends and will post them when I get back to Santiago. For now I wait for students to arrive, it is a beautiful day up here at the mine, blue sky, nice and warm. Tomarrow is the first day of spring, and I am more than ready to start some outdoor activities. Some hiking in the Andes this weekend if all goes well.
Saturday, September 03, 2005
Sittin round...
In Santiago there is a cemetary that is completely full of these large buildings, brick pathways, good sized trees, large structures with small slots for bodies. I have no idea how many people are buried here, but there are alot. From Salvador Allende, to unnamed workers. Most of the space is taken up by shed sized buildings housing a family. There are bigger buildings that house soceities and groups like firefighters, military, foreigners from far away. The designs of the structures vary greatly, from simple stone buildings to ornate reproductions of Aztec temples.It is a nice place to come to and just wander around. You can sit and see all these other people walking through. Some are on bicycles just getting exercise, others are taking picures, many are visiting relatives. Every now and then you see an old woman visiting her long lost spouse, people praying to a cross in the center. There are lots of pepper trees for some reason, it is very fresh but I wouldn't even consider using pepper from a cemetary tree.
Along all the tombs, graves and buildings are flowers, old and new. Photos, figurines, plaques, and momentos all provide a visual collage that sparks curiousity about who these people were, what the did, how they died and who they left behind.
In the center is a large grave for Salvador Allende, the former president killed during the military coup of 1973. It has his last words inscribed on a marble podium. It is a very simple design.
The walls look like something build for a castle, and you enter through a large gate. It isn't a place I go very often, but when I do, it always makes for an interesting afternoon...
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
I was watching the TV...
The damage from Katrina is staggering, I knew that New Orleans was vunerable to serious flooding, but seeing on the TV is something else. It makes the flooding in Santiago seem like a spilled glass of water. There is a blog trying to post info about damage and info...
Waking up early at the mine
I don´t have much of a sleep pattern anymore since starting this job. I get up fairly early on Monday, obscenely early on Tuesday, and fairly early on Wednesday, then, my wake up time gets later and later as I move towards the weekend.
It is also a bit of a shock to go from the mine back to Santiago and vice versa. When I arrive in Santiago on Thursday morning around 3 am, it is a much different place from what I wake up to the next day. The hustle and bustle of the city is almost overwhelming. In the mine, I recognize many faces, people say hello to each other and aren´t afraid to make eye contact. All of that is out the window in Santiago. You avoid eye contact, keep to your friends, and pay attention. The smog blurs the view of the mountains, and the weather is different as well, more clouds, less sun, but warmer.
I feel like I have a double life or something. My focus and thoughts change depending where I am. The mine gives me more time for reflextion, to plot my next move, time to overanalyze everything, whereas in Santiago that sensation gets overwhelmed by the different options in front of me.
So tonight I go back to the mad world of the micro, where I have my space, and leave the cold, isolated, tight nit, and sometimes boring world of the mine until next week...
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
snow up here....
lots of snow up at the mine, I´m trying to get photos online but am having alot of problems with the photo site...
Sunday, August 28, 2005
Santiago turns into New Venice
You don´t have to go to Venice to have a romantic walk along urban canals, just come on down to Santiago and pick any major road, add a few days of rain, and enjoy...
Photos are from Sebastián Arancibia at Canal 13,
Photos are from Sebastián Arancibia at Canal 13,
Saturday, August 27, 2005
the rain continues..
Friday, August 26, 2005
from where I sleep at the mine...
Took a muddy ride...
I need a good ride after sitting too long at the mine. It 's good for the blood to take a ride as often as possible. Seems to get some sort of toxin out of the my system that the body creates when it has been enclosed in a small room, doing nothing for too long. All of those thoughts starting with "if" are pedalled out of my brain and at the end of it all, when I am finally relaxing, my life feels simplier.
So I set out, and not more than a minute after leaving it started to rain.
No problem , I thought, and headed on my way. My destination was a park in La Reina located on the edge of the mountain range. Even the edge is steep, and it is a ride that makes me want to give in. There is a hill that stands around 3,500 meters which I am aiming for, but after two attempts I have yet to make it up all the way.
The path takes me through several different neighborhoods, from tree filled, architecturally inspired part of town to muddy slums with too many metal fences. The road and side walk are full of holes, only a few curbs are anything decent to ride over. By the time I get to the base of the mountains from my apartment I have already fought through several kilometers of rough riding.
The uphill starts, and doesn't let up until you give up. It starts out on cement and goes straight up. Too steep, I always think as I stare up the road ahead of me. I thought that I would be able to handle it a little better since my last attempt. I had been on the bike more often and felt more confident about my physical condition.
Instead I found it more difficult. I was standing up while pedaling, counting my progress foot by foot. I had to stop several times in the cool drizzle that enclosed Santiago and isolated it from any sort of sun or blue sky. It also had a nasty way of holding in the smog, but that was only during the rain. After rainfall in Santiago you can actually see the mountains, in detail, and glazed with a fresh layer of Andean snow.
I continued my ascent, making progress slowly, but surely. After some time, I got to the block before the long, very steep patch of road before the entrance to the park. It was still the beginning of the ascent, but a patch of flat earth awaiting me. I stopped and took a short breather. While I was stopped, another biker, a mailman, pulled up to the intersection with his overloaded rig. It was still a drizzle, and the wet, steep street glistened, making it look even meaner. He took a look at the climb, then at me.
"Vas a subrir?" He asked me (Are you going up?)
"claro" I answered.
"puedes llevar un sobre alli? He asked (could you take an enevelope up there?)
"No problema"
I stuffed the enevelop, destined for the park office, coming from the bank, into my pocket. Pedal by pedal, I forced my way up the hill. I got to the top and delivered the letter to some confused looking workers. After all, it wasn't everyday that there was a gringo delivering bank notes.
This park consists of an event center, a luge-type slide, an equestrian club, picnic space, and several hiking trails. I started up the trails, but found the riding overwhelming. Wheezing for air, feeling a little sick from all the pedaling, I pushed my bike for awhile and then started pedaling again. It was around then that I realized that the entire time I had been using the middle gears, not the granny ones for climbing. The anguish of the push up hill made a little more sense, and I sighed seeing how much of a difference the lower gears made.
I pushed on ahead, and arrived at a wide trail, It had been cleared recently and was more of a road than a trail. I headed up and after awhile again had to get off my bike and push it. Finally I was about out of gas. The nice thing about this ride is that you can ride all you want, and without a problem find the point where you just can't ride any higher. I found some shelter under a tree and gazed out over the clouded view of Santiago. I could barely see my neighborhood, which was relatively close in the scale of things. The center of town, much less the other side of the valley ,were completly hidden in the smog and rain.
The drizzle picked up to rain, and I deceided to head back down. Coming up, the road had been dirt, going down it was pure clay. It stuck to my tires, surrounding the chain, the brakes, the derailer. I had to stop every few minutes in the ever increasing rain and clear out the clay. At one point I couldn't even turn the back wheel. It was a matter of pushing the clay clogged bicycle, but at the same town keeping it from rolling down the hill to fast.
Finally, I made it off the mud road, cleared away some of the excess mudd and headed back to the paved road. The downhill, normaly the highlight of the ride, was difficult, mud flying in my face, rain coming down, I was trying to keep my speed low but because of the grade it was tempting to just let go of the brakes and let gravity pay the bill.
In the end, I made the long ride back to the shelter of my apartment. I was completely soaked, covered in mud, had cold hands, and worn out.
In other words, one great ride.
So I set out, and not more than a minute after leaving it started to rain.
No problem , I thought, and headed on my way. My destination was a park in La Reina located on the edge of the mountain range. Even the edge is steep, and it is a ride that makes me want to give in. There is a hill that stands around 3,500 meters which I am aiming for, but after two attempts I have yet to make it up all the way.
The path takes me through several different neighborhoods, from tree filled, architecturally inspired part of town to muddy slums with too many metal fences. The road and side walk are full of holes, only a few curbs are anything decent to ride over. By the time I get to the base of the mountains from my apartment I have already fought through several kilometers of rough riding.
The uphill starts, and doesn't let up until you give up. It starts out on cement and goes straight up. Too steep, I always think as I stare up the road ahead of me. I thought that I would be able to handle it a little better since my last attempt. I had been on the bike more often and felt more confident about my physical condition.
Instead I found it more difficult. I was standing up while pedaling, counting my progress foot by foot. I had to stop several times in the cool drizzle that enclosed Santiago and isolated it from any sort of sun or blue sky. It also had a nasty way of holding in the smog, but that was only during the rain. After rainfall in Santiago you can actually see the mountains, in detail, and glazed with a fresh layer of Andean snow.
I continued my ascent, making progress slowly, but surely. After some time, I got to the block before the long, very steep patch of road before the entrance to the park. It was still the beginning of the ascent, but a patch of flat earth awaiting me. I stopped and took a short breather. While I was stopped, another biker, a mailman, pulled up to the intersection with his overloaded rig. It was still a drizzle, and the wet, steep street glistened, making it look even meaner. He took a look at the climb, then at me.
"Vas a subrir?" He asked me (Are you going up?)
"claro" I answered.
"puedes llevar un sobre alli? He asked (could you take an enevelope up there?)
"No problema"
I stuffed the enevelop, destined for the park office, coming from the bank, into my pocket. Pedal by pedal, I forced my way up the hill. I got to the top and delivered the letter to some confused looking workers. After all, it wasn't everyday that there was a gringo delivering bank notes.
This park consists of an event center, a luge-type slide, an equestrian club, picnic space, and several hiking trails. I started up the trails, but found the riding overwhelming. Wheezing for air, feeling a little sick from all the pedaling, I pushed my bike for awhile and then started pedaling again. It was around then that I realized that the entire time I had been using the middle gears, not the granny ones for climbing. The anguish of the push up hill made a little more sense, and I sighed seeing how much of a difference the lower gears made.
I pushed on ahead, and arrived at a wide trail, It had been cleared recently and was more of a road than a trail. I headed up and after awhile again had to get off my bike and push it. Finally I was about out of gas. The nice thing about this ride is that you can ride all you want, and without a problem find the point where you just can't ride any higher. I found some shelter under a tree and gazed out over the clouded view of Santiago. I could barely see my neighborhood, which was relatively close in the scale of things. The center of town, much less the other side of the valley ,were completly hidden in the smog and rain.
The drizzle picked up to rain, and I deceided to head back down. Coming up, the road had been dirt, going down it was pure clay. It stuck to my tires, surrounding the chain, the brakes, the derailer. I had to stop every few minutes in the ever increasing rain and clear out the clay. At one point I couldn't even turn the back wheel. It was a matter of pushing the clay clogged bicycle, but at the same town keeping it from rolling down the hill to fast.
Finally, I made it off the mud road, cleared away some of the excess mudd and headed back to the paved road. The downhill, normaly the highlight of the ride, was difficult, mud flying in my face, rain coming down, I was trying to keep my speed low but because of the grade it was tempting to just let go of the brakes and let gravity pay the bill.
In the end, I made the long ride back to the shelter of my apartment. I was completely soaked, covered in mud, had cold hands, and worn out.
In other words, one great ride.
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
The strange realm of the internet....
The internet is a bizarre place, or it can be. Especially its outlet hubs where people gather to view, interact, download, upload, chat, blog, copy, burn, and email. I remember in the computer labs of the UI library (UI by the way received a high ranking as one of the US's biggest party schools) people would gather and there was a strange sensation of some sort of progress being made in the world. Papers were being written, people were learning, in the internet room of the Hotel Mina, here in Los Pelambres, things are different.
There are those downloading music, some from the 80's, guns n roses, Tracy Chapman, Led Zeppellin, Chilean music, you name it. Others are playing army video games with people yelling commands in a walkie talkie style sound, screaming about this and that. Others download strange comedic performances taped in the Plaza de Armas of Santiago. Of course, no group of miners on the internet would be complete without someone downloading or copying some porn. I don't know if sites are blocked, but I doubt it. Needless to say, the noises, sights, and impressions all blend together in one very interesting medely.
Here's to the power of this strange creature known as the internet...
There are those downloading music, some from the 80's, guns n roses, Tracy Chapman, Led Zeppellin, Chilean music, you name it. Others are playing army video games with people yelling commands in a walkie talkie style sound, screaming about this and that. Others download strange comedic performances taped in the Plaza de Armas of Santiago. Of course, no group of miners on the internet would be complete without someone downloading or copying some porn. I don't know if sites are blocked, but I doubt it. Needless to say, the noises, sights, and impressions all blend together in one very interesting medely.
Here's to the power of this strange creature known as the internet...
Friday, August 19, 2005
that struggle within...
Sometimes, well maybe a little more then sometimes, life seems to be this struggle to maintain some sort of continual balance. Ever since leaving school, and shortly thereafter, leaving the US I have been engaged in this struggle to figure out when on earth I might possible be heading. My focus shifts constantly, not just in subject, but on the level in which I squint my third eye. What part of my life demands the next step? Is it my personal life that needs some extra flavor? Is a good group of friends better than a best bud? Will a girlfriend overcomplicate my life or bring another aspect more beautiful than I could have envisioned? If I let my professional side lapse, can I make up the slack with my hobbies? These questions seem to be even more difficult when there is another language, another culture, and my own unstable brain all competing for that next conscious push forward. In the end, I end up moving forward on some sort of path that almost feels predestined. I try for something in spirit but all of my conscious efforts fail. Only after a mixture of coincidence, foresight, and a lot of pure luck do things seem to move in the way that I had wanted, or maybe more honestly put, move in a way that afterwards I can accept, thereby letting one part of my life move on, and actually feel somewhat content. That is, until things change, and that feeling which suggests that things must change sometime soon comes over me once again.
So it goes...
So it goes...
Thursday, August 18, 2005
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