Learning the Travel Rules

Feb. 8th
Temuco, Chile
We are in the land of the kissing. It seems to be the national pastime. Women kiss everybody on the cheek. Once if they don't know you, and twice if they do. Men shake hands with each other and kiss the females. Little kids kiss everybody - both male and female. When families get together it takes hours just to get past all the kissing. Then just when you think conversation can continue, somebody else comes in and the whole thing gets going again.
Chile looks like a combination of California and Mexico. Set between two mountain ranges, the coast range on the west, and, of course, the Andes to the east. It is much like our Sierras and Coast range, only on a much grander scale. We pass grape vineyards, peach orchards and fields of corn along the way. It would be easy to mistake where we were. But add to that scenery, the Hispanic architecture and you realize this is not the San Joaquin Valley.
Riding on Chilean trains you have two options. One is economico where seats are first come, first served, and the other is Salon, where everybody has a reserved seat. If you ride economico with la gente then you may have one, two, or three people to share a seat with, not to mention all the standees. In this case, we choose Salon. Chilean train rides are a little like sitting on one of a water bed with someone at the other end pushing their foot deep in the mattress. At one point luggage came raining down upon us. Luckily, all the kids were running up and down the aisles or someone might have been injured. We sat across from a family with two young daughters, 6 and 7 years old. They had a patti-cake game they played with Chicle (gum) as the operative word. Since we had brought two boxes of Care Free Bubble Gum with us just for such cases, we gave a pack to the girls and we thought we were going to die of hysterics watching those two kids try to blow bubbles. They finally got the hang of it and just like kids everywhere popped on and on. We video taped them and I don't think they had ever seen themselves on film before because they wanted to watch themselves over and over. the parents were very interesting people and it make the 300 miles and 10 hour journey much easier to bear. I'm gonna have some fun with this gum. By the end of the trip we were "Tia and Tio" and, when we left to go our own directions there were, of course, kisses all around.
This country gets around town, and from city to city, by bus. There must be four buses for every person. They're like sheep in Australia. they range from modern, luxury buses, like the ones in which we travel in Europe, to some you don't think will make it to the next corner. But they all cost the same and everybody seems willing to get on the next one passing. They just took 2,600 of them out of commission in Santiago, and judging from some of the ones which are left, I can only imagine what the retiree were like.
We visited Lirquen, a small fishing village near Conception. It took an hour by bus to get there and cost a staggering 35 cents. Bus rides are a real trip, both literally and figuratively. there are bus stops, of course, but they make little difference. If you are walking and you bus comes by, they will stop and pick you up, no matter you are. Conversely, where ever you want off, tell the guy who rides shotgun and who takes the money and the bus comes to a screeching halt. Lirquen is very small and isolated and obviously doesn't get many tourists. Everybody who passed us would look at us for a long time. Kids would come up yelling "You are welcome," or "Thank you." in English, phrases which they had obviously learned in school (all students must take English classes beginning the 7th grade in public schools, and in 1st grade in private schools). We began to take a picture of one of the streets and a bus driver pulled up with a bus full of people and told us that if we would only walk down this way and up that hill we could get a nice view of the entire village. We did and it was.
The town was made up of old, wooden houses, but again Chilean pride comes to the fore. Inside they were immaculate. People do what they can here. They may be very poor, but they will not be dirty if they can help it. They take pride in their clothes as a matter of personal dignity. Children are always very well dressed.
We traveled on down to Temuco and today while waiting for the bus to leave for a small village called Chol-Chol we went down to the market area. We filmed all the produce, beef and the millions of things they sell at such places. there was a very old lady who looked like she had seen the better part of this century, drinking tea from the traditional bowl with the metal straw as they do here. When I went by with my camcorder she stuck out her tongue at me. I was really surprised, because most people want us to take their picture. She obviously did not want me to film her. I kept on walking and filming other things. On the return Carol smiled at her and she smiled back. I stopped and asked her if I had her permission to take her picture. She said that I could for 500 pesos ($1.75). I said that I would give her 100 pesos, she countered with 200 and it was a deal. She had such a great face, I wanted to have it on film. It was great. While I fumbled for my coins, she asked if we were Argentineans as most people assume. When we said that we were from California she gave us a sly smile and said, "Oh so your the ones fighting for oil (Desert Storm)." I assured her that at least I wasn't, and that my son was in the gulf. Her hostility immediately vanished. She got very concerned, and gave us each a flower. She went from protagonist to mother in an instant. It was a great moment.
So often we assume that poor people are less knowledgeable, informed, and probably inferiors just because they are poor. This old, poor woman was as sophisticated as anyone I know and certainly as wise. Her hostility had turned to understanding and she felt empathy for a father concerned about his son.
We went on to Chol-Chol and it was like a scene out of the old west. The Huasos (Chilean equivalents to gauchos) still ride their horses in the street, ox-carts are the mode of transportation around town. All streets are dirt and only occasionally do you see a car or a TV antenna. they do have electricity, but the town is a bit of a time warp. We got some great pictures.
Each place we go to seems to be the highlight of the trip so far. We have been traveling for less than two weeks, but have had one fantastic experience after another. We hate to skip any of the towns in-between one place and another because we know that they hold experiences which we must inevitably miss.