Happy House Hostel

My home away from home in Santiago, Chile deserves a post of its own. This is without a doubt the best hostel I have ever stayed in. It is located in Barrio Brasil in downtown Santiago on Catedral Avenue. The hostel is in a restored mansion that is beautifully decorated with soft lighting and a cozy atmosphere. Every morning, we got a complete breakfast of cereal, yogurt, coffee or tea, juice and a grilled cheese sandwich! There is also beautiful terrace where you can hang out and enjoy a view of the skyline (smog permitting). One of the best things was that the internet was always available there and people were very respectful of each other’s time on it as well.

The staff, Chris, Luis, Carolina and of course, Faby, my friend, were helpful and welcoming. All of the backpackers who stayed here were quiet and respectful and I met some really nice ones with whom to sightsee. I don't think I could have found a better place to stay. Plus, the owners are opening another hostel in the Bohemian neighbourhood of Bellavista. I'd love to see what they do with their new property.

The Stare Down

Being stared down here in Santiago at dining establishments is a common occurrence. It's as if there is no tourism industry at all in this city. Unlike Buenos Aires where there are gobBsAs staff on major street corners and in the tourism information centres, they actually give you information on the attractions. In Santiago's tourist info centre, I barely got a map out of the staff member who was too enthralled in her conversation with her friend to help me. Thank goodness for guidebooks in times like that.

Anyways, one night I went to a small cafe called Cafe La Jolie one block away from Happy House Hostel and across from the Cumming Metro Station on Av. Catedral. It looked like a warm and inviting kind of cafe from its decor and name but I stepped inside and found all of the wait staff sitting around doing a crossword puzzle. I went up to the counter and tried to order but the waiter intercepted me and took my order instead. He told me to sit by their table so I did. It took all four staff to make my one hot chocolate. One to take the order, another to make it and two to discuss whether or not I needed an ashtray. The ashtray thing was quite funny as I didn´t know the word for ashtray which is ciencero. When the waiter said it, I thought he asked if I wanted trecero which is a third. I said to myself, “a third of what?". Finally, he asked fumar or no fumar. When I said no fumar, the search for the ashtray was called off. What I noticed most was that one member of the wait staff kept starring at me. It was unnerving. Why? I'm not that interesting. Just a tourist wanting a snack. At this point, I didn't have anyone or any book, journal or magazine to keep me occupied so I was extremely conscious of everything going on around me. Luckily, one of the wait staff brought me a magazine and local arts and entertainment paper and asked if it was my first time in Santiago. After about 10 minutes which seemed like an eternity to me, the hot chocolate arrived. One of the waiters continued to stare me down so I gulped down the drink and got the heck outta there. It's hard to go into these places when you get stared down. From other traveler's stories, it is a common occurrence for a tourist when you go to a place that normally only locals frequent. Shame really, because then it's harder to get a feel for the city.

VIPs at Vina Santa Rita - May 31

In honour of my last day in Chile, I decided to experience Chile´s most important export of the last decade: wine! Jade and I decided to find our way sin tour guide over to a small town, Buin located in the Maipu Valley about an hour south of Santiago. We were originally signed up for the wine tasting and tour at 11:30 a.m. However, as time goes in South America, we were falling behind schedule. We took the metro from the hostel to the Estacion Central. At Estacion Central, I was shocked to see a CinnZeo in the station. It's usually not the case that a Canadian fast food chain will expand abroad. Aside from Tim Horton's, of course. From there, we went via MetroTren to Buin station where we had to catch a colectivo out to the winery. The colectivo was quite an experience. Again, you are in the middle of a town with no set stops and then you just wave down the nearest taxi and off you go. When we arrived, the security guard had my name on a list. It certainly made me feel like a V.I.P. Once we cleared security, we went into the vineyards passing through row upon row of grape trees already harvested for the year. The driver stopped in front of a red bunglow dotted with palm trees. A light mist was covering the vineyards and the mountains providing a perfect backdrop for the grounds of Vine Santa Rita.

Since we had missed the wine tasting, we had to "settle" for lunch at the luxurious restaurant which included a tour but not a wine tasting! With an hour to go before lunch began, we wandered off to Muse Anion. The museum was a quite a find as it was free, well curated and had a fine collection of artifacts from the native groups in Chile and Peru such as the Rapa Nui, Mapuche, the Incas, the Pre-Colombian people and even more modern ones like the waso or cowboys. I had not made it to any museums yet so was happy to learn more about the people of Chile. We only made it through half of the museum before it was time for lunch.

As we entered the restaurant, they helped us out of our jackets. We were served by a professional waiter, bowtie, vest and all. He was very pleasant and spoke perfect English, although he was gracious and allowed me to order in my poor but improving Spanish. We had a Sauvingnon Blanc and a Cabernet with my lunch of fricassee steak and curried rice and Jade's lunch of sea bass and a chileno salad made of cilantro, onions and tomatoes. By far, the best meal thus far of my trip! At 3 pm, we were supposed to start our tour, so I waived over an official looking guy. He looked surprised that I had waived him over and I asked about the tour and then he asked me if I wanted to salsa later. Cheeky! Anyways, turns out he runs the wine store downstairs and we would be able to get our wine tasting later.

Vina Santa Rita has a very modern factory with all of the best equipment imported from Italy and other European countries. Everything except some of the harvesting is done by machinery. I learned that Chilean wines have only been exported in the last 12 years and that unlike European wines, South American wines do not have good and bad years. It's always a good year in Chile and Argentina. The wine they are most proud of is called 120 as it represents the 120 soldiers who hid out in the house on the winery grounds during the War of Independence from Spain.

After the tour, we wandered into the wine cellar for our private tasting with Marcelo, the store manager. He taught us how to properly taste wine. The steps are:
1) Smell it with your nose
2) Swirl it to see if it has "legs". Red wine will have more "legs" than a white.
3) Smell it again with nose and mouth. Smell should be different this time.
4) Now taste it. For a white wine, suck it between your teeth and swallow and for a red one, gulp down a bit and then swallow.
5) Then, enjoy!

After the wine tasting, it was back to the museum. Here my Spanish got a work out because the security guards and two winery workers decided to chat me up. I must have talked to them for at least 20 minutes. One of the winery workers told me he played the guitar in a traditional Chilean folk music group. I couldn't hear the group play so I asked him to sing a traditional song. He obliged. It was a cool experience meeting these guys and Marcelo who saved us 4000 pesos by dropping us off at the Metrotren station in Buin. Awesome place, people and wine.

¿A que? Vino Dios al mundo si no tomo vino!! ¿A que? Huca vino...!!
For what? God came to the world if not drink wine. For what? Drink wine.

Por La Educacion!

In Chile, there was a major strike happening between students and the government. Some say it is a test for the new president, Michelle Bachelet.

When I was in Chile last week, I noticed a lot of student milling about on the morning of Monday, May 29. They had some protest signs up at one school and all of the students in their smart uniforms were spilling out onto the sidewalk. As I made my way down the sidewalk, one of the students shook her cup of change at me asking for a donation. I thought it was strange that the students were moonlighting as panhandlers on their way to class. But, maybe it was just one of those things. I didn't connect the strike with the panhandling until another girl begging for me asked for money and then added the exclamation, "Por la educacion!". Ok, I got it now. School must be expensive there.

Of all the Spanish speaking countries in Latin America, Chile has the strongest economy but the education costs sound prohibitive for the average Chilean. The average salary is $11,300 US dollars according to the CIA World Factbook. My Chilean friend, Faby, told me that the monthly cost of school there is expensive compared to the earnings of most and that most Chileans graduate from university with a heavy debt load. That is why some students beg for money on their way to school, she said.

The strike sounded very grassroots with 20 schools joining, then 40 and finally up to all of the schools in Santiago. When I was in Valapairso on May 30, I saw signs up at another school, too. Before I left Chile on June 1, I heard that the strike the day prior turned violent with the police clashing with the otherwise peaceful students. This week, I heard that the strike grew to one million people and that the President is agreeing to some their demands. It'll be interesting to see how the situation unfolds. After all, education is a universal human right but for many it still remains out of reach. If Chile wants to keep progressing, they should focus on educating their citizens and keeping the costs down.

Lost in Isla Negra - May 30

On Monday, I was having a conversation with roommate/new best friend, Jade about traveling. I said how, "it's the the snap decisions that get you into trouble when you are traveling." It's funny how that statement foreshadow the events of Tuesday.

I have wanted to go to Vina del Mar from before I came to Chile. When I was researching language courses, I looked into the University there so was curious about seeing the little seaside resort town where I could've been living. When I spoke to Carolina at Happy House about my plans, she said that Valapairso is much better than Vina del Mar. Since she is a Chilena, I thought she knows best and changed my plans at the last minute. After purchasing my bus ticket to Valapairso, I consulted my Footprint guide and thought that there were some interesting sites there along with 12 funiculars. Plus, it's an UNESCO World Heritage site. It's got to be good.

However, when I got to the bus station in Valapairso two hours later, I didn't have a good feeling. So, I asked bought a ticket to Isla Negra to see another one of Pablo Neruda's houses figuring it would be close. I was wrong. Isla Negra is a one and half hours south of Valapairso. The bus winds through the countryside so it takes a bit longer than if I went a more direct route on the highway. The long bus rides did afford me the opportunity to see more of the Chilean landscapes from shanty towns to vineyards to forests to small housing developments to farms and finally, the beautiful Pacific Ocean. Chile is truly a beautiful country and am at times reminded of British Columbia.

4 hours later, the bus dropped me on the side of the dusty road. Before I got off, I asked the driver where the house was and he pointed ahead. And I walked. Thankfully, there were lots of hints that Neruda was close by. A mural here, a sign there and finally, a collection of artisan stalls. I went down a dirt road to reach the house and was one of only a few tourists milling about. The house is quite quirky and there is a small museum on the grounds.





After wandering around taking pictures of the beach and garden, one of which is my user photo, Marcela, the tour guide greeted me for my English tour. I learned a lot about Neruda who has had a fascinating life. Poet, Nobel-Laureate, Communist, Diplomat, Designer: All-around Renaissance Man. One thing that blew me away was the fact that he was a diplomat at age 23. No wonder he collects so many interesting cultural artifacts like masks from all around the world. His most impressive collection is that of ship heads from all over the world. His houses are always separated into a collection of smaller buildings so he could separate his work from his social life. Looking out from his bedroom at the Pacific Ocean, it's easy to see how the setting at Isla Negra inspired him.¨

As it was getting late and the sun was setting, I went back out the dusty road in this one street town and waited for the bus. And I waited and I waited until the point where I thought I was going to be stuck in Isla Negra. Luckily, I saw couple who had boarded my bus from Valapairso. I thought they were Spanish but they were speaking in French. After 45 minutes, I finally struck up a conversation with the tourists.

I said to the girl in the couple, "Je suis Canadienne." Hoping for some connection but people from France don't really feel an allegiance with the Canadians. On second thought, the French only feel an allegiance to themselves. Anyways, a bus to Valapairso finally materialized out of the dark only to pass us by. At this point it is nearly 7 pm and am freaking out. The subway in Santiago stops running at 10:30 pm. I need to get back now. Lots of questions and thoughts run through my head. Would there be another bus to Valapairso? Would it stop? Could I keep up speaking in French? After consulting with the French tourists in my high school french which comes out in emergency situations only, we flagged down a Pullman bus headed to Santiago. The wonderful staff allowed me to hop on without paying extra. Thanks to a more direct route back, I was safely back in Santiago regaling my roommates with my muy loco adventure out to Isla Negra in less than two hours.