Fantasilandia

When I'm not off traveling, my weekends tend to be pretty monotonous.  Friday is market day, Saturday is cleaning day, and Sunday is class preparation day.  I'm not much of a night owl, and that's when most of the weekend socialization occurs here in Santiago, so I don't go out very often.  This Saturday, however, turned out a bit differently.  It started out as normal--I slept in, enjoyed my coffee while reading the news, and still wasn't dressed by 11:30 a.m.  It was a good day, so far.  I finally got up the motivation to start washing the dishes that I'd let pile up during the week when I noticed a strange sound.  I'd lost my phone on the way to Mendoza and had just started using a new one.  I still wasn't quite used to the sound, and ignored it at first.  But the new phone has a handy "reminder" system, so it kept vibrating every 5 minutes or so until I finally realized what it was and went to check on it.  Turned out to be a message from my friend, Heather.  I hadn't seen her since before the semester started back in August!

"Hey, what are you doing?" read the message, "do you want to come out?  Like, now?  We're meeting at Fantasilandia at noon."  Of course, by the time I'd realized it was my phone making the alert noises, it was already about 5 minutes to noon!  There was no way I would be able to get dressed and all the way over to the theme park by then!  But I didn't have any other plans for the weekend, so I texted her back and told her I'd meet the group there as soon as I got ready.  I decided the dishes could wait another day, and quickly hopped into the shower.  I got ready in record time, and and was out the door in less than half an hour.  The park is actually located fairly close to my house, but because of the metro routes, it takes a while to get there.  By the time I got to the park, got a ticket, and found my friends, it was around 1:30.

www.fantasilandia.cl

It was a group of about 12 people, only half of whom I already knew.  The rest were friends of Heathers' roommates.  It was quite an international group--we had people from the U.S., Chile, Peru, and India!  When I arrived, we went through the standard introductions, and then got down to business--deciding which ride to go on next.  The rest of the group had already been at the park about an hour, but it was so packed that they'd only managed to get on one ride!  They'd stood in line nearly 45 minutes to get to the most popular roller coaster, the Raptor.  I got a quick look at it, and decided that I didn't feel too bad about them doing it without me.

It was starting to get warm out, so before choosing our next ride we decided to take a quick drink break.  It was still fairly early for lunch, so the line at the snack stand wasn't very long.  Five of us got in line to get drinks, behind two other park-goers.  The people in front of us ordered food, so they had to wait for it to be cooked.  We figured it wouldn't affect us and continued through to order our drinks.  We forgot that we were in Chile.  The cashier took our money and gave us a receipt, telling us we'd have to wait at the other end until they called us to tell us our order was ready.

The gringos waiting for their drinks...

We were ok with that; there were a couple other people also waiting just for drinks, and all the workers were busy working on various tasks.  We waited about ten minutes, and still got nothing.  Now, the cashier wasn't doing anything because there was no one else waiting in line to pay.  There were also two new workers who'd shown up but didn't seem to be doing anything.  We went to the cashier and asked her if she could grab our drinks, since she wasn't helping anyone else at the moment.  She told us we had to wait, that everything had to be done in the right order.  Then, she continued to sit and twiddle her thumbs.  We waited another ten minutes, and still nothing.  We asked another person, who completely ignored us.  Finally, the people in line ahead of us (who had ordered enough food to feed a small army) received their food.  After a total wait time of nearly 25 minutes, we finally received our overpriced fountain sodas.  By then, it was the most delicious soda that any of us had ever tasted!

Once we quenched our thirst, we began to explore our options for the next ride.  Everyone agreed upon La Pirata, a viking ship that swings back and forth.  Unfortunately, I am not the best at chugging, so I still hadn't finished my drink.  Another friend, Kimberley, also needed some more time to finish her drink, so we appointed ourselves official photographers and sat the ride out.  We did manage get some great pictures, though!  After the ride was over, everyone (well, almost everyone) decided they were up for some more adrenaline.  That meant it was time for the Boomerang!  Kimberley and I did our best to escape, but when you've got a dozen people surrounding you, there really isn't much room to run.

www.fantasilandia.cl

We were forced to get in line and wait for what looked like the most terrifying ride known to man.  And the worst part was that the line was very long, meaning that we got to sit through the horrified screams of all our predecessors.  After enduring the blood-curdling cries of about 10 groups of people, it was our turn.  I tried one last desperate attempt to get away, but two of the guys in our group grabbed me and dragged me into my seat.  At least they were kind enough to make sure I was strapped in securely! The ride lasted just under 2 minutes (yes, I timed it), and I have to say that those were the most terrifying 120 seconds of my life.  The ride is called "Boomerang" for good reason--you are first pulled backwards up a steep incline, where you sit for a few seconds.  Then, all of a sudden, you are flung forward into a spiral that promptly turns into a loop.  After you survive the loop, you are rushed up another steep incline where you are allowed a short break to catch your breath.  Then, just when you think the worst is over, you are dropped back down the incline in the opposite direction and have to endure the whole track again, in reverse!  My eyes were closed the entire time, and my hands hurt for an hour afterwards from holding on to the handrails so hard.  It took just about as long for me to stop shaking; but I survived!

The rest of the group still didn't feel as if they'd gotten their fill of adrenaline yet, so they got in line for the Extreme Fall (have you noticed that all the rides have names in English?  That's what they're really called; I'm not translating!).  Kimberley and I had had just about enough adrenaline to last us the rest of our lives, so we once again sat this one out.  We still had fun, though!  We found a nice giraffe topiary and had a very deep conversation with it while we waited for our friends.  We discovered that most giraffes are democrats, for obvious reasons.  We even snapped a picture with him.  Kimberley apparently has quite a bit of experience with giraffe topiaries, so she wasn't as impressed as I was.  I guess I need to get out more!  Apparently, free-falling from 115 feet builds a quite an appetite, because as soon as everyone got off the ride, lunch was the only thing on their mind.  We went to a different snack stand this time, hoping for better service.  Once again, we had a momentarily memory lapse about the fact that we were in Chile.  And by now it was lunch time, so the line was pretty long, too.  I wasn't hungry yet (I'd had a late breakfast), so I was given the all-important task of saving the table.  It took about 45 minutes for everyone to get their food (not too bad, given the circumstances).  We got caught up while everyone ate.  We talked about our future plans--it looks like most everyone is planning to go home (or at least somewhere else) after our contract is up.  We also got to know the new people in the group, which was quite interesting.  It was fun to compare cultures (and discover that amusement parks are overpriced with much too long of lines in just about every country).

Lunch took about two hours, and by the time we were finished, I was starting to feel about ready to go home (besides, I had a Skype date with Scott that I didn't want to miss) .  I agreed to go on a couple more rides before heading out.  We got in line for a water ride, the Rapid River.  Just in time, too, because it started to rain while we were in line!  Everyone else  must've had the same idea, because it was probably the longest line we'd been in all day.  It took about an hour to get to the front of the line.  The line wound back and forth, and in front of us on the other side of the rope was a man with his young son.  When he saw me, he pointed right at my face and started saying, in English, "blue eyes!"  I kind of gave him a smile and tried to go back to talking to my friends, but he kept talking.  I finally said, "yes, thank you," just to get him off my back.  But then he had to point out to me that his son had green eyes (obviously making us soulmates), and try to get my life story.  Luckily, the line started to move so I didn't have to talk long.  Until we ran into each other again as the line snaked back onto itself once again.  I had to endure five awkward Spanglish conversations with them before the line straightened out and we finally got rid of them. Or so I thought.  When we got on the ride, he was waiting in the spectator area.  He shouted to get me to look at him, and snapped my picture!  I guess I should feel flattered?

I think the ride was fun, but I was a bit flustered by my new friend.  After being around the water so long, I had to take a bathroom break.  I set out to find one while the rest of the group got in line at bumper cars.  The line at the bathroom was just as long as for the rides, so by the time I got back to the group, they were next in line for the cars.  So, once I again, I became official photographer.  It was actually really fun to watch everyone fight it out in the bumper car arena!  My camera wasn't too happy about the low light and quick movements, but I got a couple decent shots.  And a whole bunch of really funny ones!  After the bumper cars, I had to head out, but everyone else decided to stay another hour until the park closed at 8:00.  We said our good-byes and went in our separate directions. It was nice to get out and do something a little different, and to meet some new, fun people while doing it!

La Chascona

By Saturday morning we were feeling rested enough to go out exploring again.  I've already done quite a bit of tourist-ing in Santiago, so I gave Mom my guide book and let her pick our destination.  She decided on La Chascona, one of three houses built by Chilean poet Pablo Neruda.  It was about a 45 minute walk from my apartment, but we didn't have anything else planned for the day so we could take it slow.  There are a lot of interesting sites on the way, so we started out on our adventure, planning to see as much as we could on the way.

We headed out towards Vicuña Mackenna, one of the main streets in downtown Santiago.  It's only a few blocks from my house, but usually my only interaction with it is to cross it each morning getting to the metro.  This time, we turned onto it and began to follow it into the heart of Santiago.   We stopped by the hostel I'd stayed in for the first couple weeks in Chile, and it was fun to remember the memories and friends I'd made there.  A few streets past the hostel, we saw a little street with quite a different personality than most others here in the city.  This one was fairly narrow, and had tall, colorful, row-style houses lining it.  Right in the middle of all the houses was a corridor covered in mosaics.  We decided to take a detour down that street to admire the houses, and were pleasantly surprised to see that spring had brought fresh flowers to the front yards.  The colors of the flowers blended perfectly with the hues of the houses, and the smell was wonderful!  I stopped to smell the flowers while Mom snapped a few pictures.

Our next stop was Parque Bustamante, just on the other side of the neighborhood.  I've been through the park before, but usually on my way to other places while in a hurry, so I've never really stopped to take a good look.  Some of the other native English teachers from my school go there to work out after class, but so far my schedule hasn't meshed up enough with theirs to allow me to go.  Plus, I'm not too into working out anyway.  But I suppose if I must, Parque Bustamante would be a great place to do it. There are a bunch of exercise machines, just like you would see at the gym.  Except these are much better because they are outside, and they're free!  Obviously, we had to try some out.  I was surprised at how well they worked, considering how many people have probably used them through the years.  There were quite a few other people working out, too, including a toddler who was doing her utmost to use one as a swing.

And, just in case you don't like working out alone, there are free, live exercise classes!  It was a nice day, so we stopped to watch for a while.  Most of the participants were having a great time and getting some exercise in the meantime.  There was, however, one woman who was taking her exercise very seriously.  Even when everyone else stopped for water breaks, she kept shakin' it.  Not only was she the most invested in the exercise program, she was probably the oldest by about 20 years.  Most of the other participants seemed to be middle-aged or younger, but this woman had to be about 60.  It's great to see people stay active!  Especially when they are as entertaining as she was.  Once we'd had our fill of watching other people exercise, we continued on our way.  We passed by a nice cafe in the middle of the park that I'd never noticed before.  It was two stories with a big pond out front.  It was packed full inside and out of people enjoying the nice weather on the weekend morning.  We'd had enough coffee at home before setting out, so we skipped the cafe and kept walking.  We reached the Mapocho river--once the pride of Santiago, but now a small, polluted stream.  And it has actually improved in recent years, apparently!  It's sights like that that makes me ashamed.  Although I guess I haven't really done anything to improve it, either, so I can't really complain, can I?

Across the bridge on the other side of the Mapocho, we came across another artisan fair.  We stopped in, just to see if they had anything more to offer than at the fair nearer my house.  We found a really awesome rainbow knitted sweater, but did our best efforts and self-control and avoided buying it.  It'd definitely be a way to get noticed, though (not that I really need to make an effort for that here in Chile)!  We stopped by another booth where a woman was selling jewelry made from recycled silverware.  She had earrings, necklaces, bracelets, and even a tree for holding the jewelry made from forks!  It was really neat, and we were very tempted, but it could only hold two necklaces or two pairs of earrings.  If you've ever glimpsed my earring collection, you'd know just how inadequate that would be for me.  Instead, we bought some necklaces to give as gifts.

www.nadir.org

Next, we stopped by a booth run by a young man, probably about my age.  He was also selling jewelry made from alpaca (no, not the animal.  It's a metal similar to silver).  That isn't too exciting in itself; lots of people sell metal jewelry.  What was so interesting about his was that it was all hand carved.  Yes, he carved designs into each piece with a very tiny hand saw.  He showed us one he was working on--a hair pin with the design of a kultrun on it.  He told us that he is very proud of his Mapuche (indigenous tribe from the south of Chile) heritage, and that the kultrun was one of the most important symbols of his culture.  He then even took the time to explain the symbolism for us, in English!  Kultrun is a Mapuche word that means "object of sound" or, a drum.  But these aren't just any drums--they are ceremonial drums onto which the whole story of relationship between heaven and earth is depicted.

pueblosoriginarios.com

The artisan explained that, first of all, the symbols on the kultrun explain the delicate balance of earth and heaven.  The circular pattern is divided into four parts by lines representing the four cardinal directions--north, east, south, and west.  Between the four points, two different patterns can be depicted.  In the example I found online, there are four representations of the wind moving always through time.  The artisan instead had two suns and two moons, also representing the passing of time.  From each cardinal direction sprout two more branches, one for each month in the year.  Long before being introduced to Western culture, the Mapuche counted 12 months in a year.  The space between each grouping of three months represents a different season.  Between east and north lies winter, the rainy season.  For the Mapuche, this was the season of fertility, when the earth received nutrients and water.  Next, between north and west comes spring.  This meant it was time for the people to move from their winter habitation to their summer residence and begin a long period of work in preparation for the fertile summer that would hopefully result from a rejuvenating winter.  Between west and south is summer--harvest time.  This is a time of great abundance and celebration.  Finally, between south and east is autumn.  This is when families began to prepare once again for the difficult winter, stockpiling their resources from the summer harvest.  It's a time to share what you have with others, both in resources and knowledge.  Once the four seasons have been completed, it's time to start again.  The circle continues with every new generation, never ending.  There were a lot more symbols within the design, as well, but I don't remember enough to give an accurate account (and it is surprisingly difficult to find conclusive information on the internet!).  

Not only was it great to hear the history of the Mapuche from a member of the tribe, it was wonderful to hear the pride in his voice as he told it.  Like most indigenous people, the Mapuche have suffered a lot through the years and have lost much of their cultural heritage.  It has only been recently, in the past generation or so, that the Mapuche are reclaiming their heritage and showing their pride.  The last time I was in Chile, I even had the opportunity to visit the only school in the country taught exclusively in Mapudungun, the language of the Mapuche.  In fact, the first class to go all the way from kindergarten to final year should be graduating about now!  We didn't buy anything from that artisan because his stuff was a little out of our price range (definitely worth the price, though).  We thanked him for sharing his heritage with us, and then decided we'd better move on from the fair if we wanted our money to last the rest of the week!

Pastel de Choclo

Although a straight walk should have taken us to La Chascona in about 45 minutes, our frequent stops drew out the time much longer.  We were starting to get tired and hungry, so we stopped over in Barrio Bellavista for some lunch before going to the museum.  Bellavista is a trendy neighborhood that is popular with young people because it is packed wall-to-wall with restaurants, bars, and clubs.  Luckily, it was just past noon so the hard-core partying hadn't started quite yet (although we saw a few people who were definitely trying).  Mom still hadn't gotten the chance to try any Chilean food on this visit, so we headed over to Galindo, one of the most well-know Chilean restaurants in Santiago.  It was a nice day, so we sat outside on the patio.  I tried to order humitas (they're like large tamales), but was told that those are only summer food.  Instead, I went for the ever-popular porotos (bean stew).  Mom opted for the world-famous pastel de choclo (corn pie).  The restaurant is popular among tourists, so we got to hear all sorts of languages and accents as we ate.  As tired as we were, we enjoyed our food quietly, trying to see if we could guess all the different accents around us.

Porotos

Once again, the portions were much bigger than we'd anticipated.  Luckily for Mom, she hadn't eaten breakfast that day and managed to make a heroic effort on her corn pie.  I, on the other hand, had to ask for a to-go box for the rest of my meal.  When we finished, Mom went to the corner of the street to have a cigarette while I waited for the bill.  During our meal the restaurant had gotten pretty busy, so I had a bit of a wait before I could leave the table.  I was surprised that Mom actually didn't get bored and come back, but when I finally went over to meet her, I saw why.  She had run into (once again) the woman from my apartment!  They told me it must be fate, because this was now the fifth time in three days that they'd come across one another.  I guess it's not that strange in the apartment (although there are about 250 units with an average of two people in each), but it was really amazing to run into her in the middle of the big city!  She had actually just come from La Chascona and was heading out to explore the rest of the city.  We chatted for a few minutes and then went our separate ways.

worldnomads.com

We thought our next stop would definitely be La Chascona (we were only three blocks away!), but we managed to get sidetracked one more time.  We walked by a restaurant with a beautiful fence that looked like vines with flowers on it.  Of course we needed to take some pictures!  Next to the restaurant was a new store that I'd never seen before (I've walked past that area many times during weekend strolls).  We weren't in a hurry, so we went in to check it out.  The owner was very friendly and explained that everything for sale was hand-made by different people.  The store was created by a group of friends who are all artisans and wanted a place to display and sell their artwork.  Mom found a neat condiment holder made from a seashell, and we were about to leave when she spotted one more thing.  It was a screen printing on canvas of some of the most famous stairs in Valparaiso.  She really liked it, but didn't want to get it because she hasn't been there.  She showed it to me anyway, just so I could admire it too.  I looked at it and realized that those stairs were particularly familiar to me--it was just a few feet from the top that Scott had proposed to me!  When I told Mom that, she got very excited (and tried to tell everyone in the store about the story).  She decided to buy it for us as a wedding gift.  But it's a surprise, so don't tell me!

www.tripadvisor.com

After dragging ourselves out of the store (there were so many unique things!), we finally made our way up the last few feet to the entrance of Pablo Neruda's house, La Chascona.  We were in luck, too, because the next English-language tour would be leaving in only half an hour!  We checked out the gift shop while we waited for the tour.  I'd done the tour before, when Scott came to visit, but the house really is marvelous so I was excited to see it again.  I was also glad to see that the tour guide that would be leading our tour this time was a different one than the first time.  It's always interesting to see the differences between different guides (and you find out which part of the stories are made-up, too, because each guide adds a different twist)!  When I went with Scott, we had a female guide, so a lot of the tour consisted of torrid love stories.  This time, our guide was male.  There was hardly any mention of romance (except what was required to explain the marriage of Neruda to the wife after whom the house is name), but there was a lot of emphasis on Neruda as a politician.  Though most of the information was the same, it was fun to be able to experience the varied presentations of it!

Pablo Neruda and Matilde Urrutia
elmercuriodigital.net

Unfortunately, you're not allowed to take pictures inside the house, so we don't have any of our own.  But there are plenty around the internet if you take the time to search!  Not only is La Chascona interesting for its architecture, but also for all the various memorabilia collected by Neruda throughout his travels as an ambassador for Chile.  There are also some pretty good stories attached to the house.  Probably the most well-known story is how the house got its name in the first place.  It is named after Neruda's third wife, Matilde Urrutia.  She was easily recognized by her wild red hair, only one of many of her features that Neruda had fallen in love with.  Because of this, he gave her the nickname "la Chascona," which means "disheveled hair" in Quechua, the language of the indigenous people of northern Chile.  It was only fitting that the house built for her should have the same name.

sopame.blogspot.com

Neruda and Urrutia's relationship began in secret while Neruda was still married to his previous wife, Delia del Carnil.  Urrutia was an artist herself and was well-known in Chile as a writer and singer.  She and Neruda met for the first time through mutual artist friends in Santiago in 1946.  They quickly became friends, but didn't see much of each other again until 1949 when they were both in Mexico.  Neruda had been sent there in exile for his participation in the Communist Party of Chile.  Here, they truly fell in love and began their secret affair.  They maintained their relationship in secret for many years, telling only their closest friends the truth.  One of these friends was Mexican muralist Diego Rivera, who commemorated the relationship with a painting of Matilde.  In his depiction, she has two heads--one for each part she had to play in Neruda's life.  One for the face she put out when she pretended to be just friends, and another she could wear when they were together as lovers.  And of course she could not be alone in a painting about lovers--take a close look in her hair on the far right; you can see the outline of Neruda's face hidden within her curls.

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By 1955, the lovers could not longer keep their relationship a secret and Neruda finally separated from his previous wife.  He had actually begun to build La Chascona for Urrutia before the separation, in 1953.  He hired another good friend to design it for him--Catalan architect German Rodriguez Arias.  The architect commented that he was apprehensive about designing a house on such a steep hill, but did his best to design around it.  It was initially designed to face towards the south to give a view of the city, but Neruda preferred the view of the mountains and had the house completely re-oriented.  He also continually brought cypress and other wood species up from the south from which to construct the house.  He also broke convention by asking Arias to build an entire room around his favorite couch and painting.  In fact, the painting is permanently installed as part of the wall of the living room.  By the time it was finished, the house was completely different than envisioned by Arias, but turned out to be exactly what Neruda wanted.

crystalacarte.com

The house is actually composed of three separate buildings--the guest house, the main living area, and the office.  The entire house is completely filled with mementos that Neruda had collected during his travels around the world.  Unfortunately, most of the original pieces housed in La Chascona were lost when soldiers destroyed the house and its contents after the military coup of 1973.  The objects now inside the house were brought from Neruda's other houses and donated by the French government for which he was ambassador for many years.  There were so many interesting details that I can't begin to describe them all here, but I'll note the most interesting ones.  In the dining room of the guest house (which was very narrow with a low ceiling, modeled after a ship), each table setting had a different colored glass.  This was because Neruda believed that color of the vessel influenced the taste of the liquid, so always had many options available for each of his moods.  According to our guide, Neruda's favorite "flavor" was green.  Another interesting detail of the guest house is the pantry.  One side is just what you would expect from a pantry--full of shelves and everyday kitchen supplies.  But the other door opens up to a secret stairwell that leads upstairs to a breakfast nook and guest bedroom!  I am most definitely getting one of those for my house!

taraandkarinagoout.com

We continued on our tour, overwhelmed by the electic mix of objects throughout the house and garden.  In just about every room, and hung on some of the trees, were giant sketches of eyes.  We asked the guide why, and he told us that they were Neruda's version of security cameras.  No matter where you are in the house, you're always being watched.  So don't misbehave!  That must explain why there seemed to be extra eyes hung on the tree next to the outdoor bar--extra temptation there!  Mom decided that the bar was the part of the house that she wouldn't mind adding to hers.  It even came complete with a giant pair of shoes, something Neruda had apparently picked up from a shoe shop in the south of Chile.  During that time period, there was an extremely high illiteracy rate in the country, so shops had to display the goods they were selling.  And if you want to sell shoes, how better to demonstrate your wares than to hang up a giant pair of them!?

artofschmidt.com

After our tour, we were starting to get tired out, but decided to try to walk back home anyway.  It was a nice day, so we thought we might stop for a drink on the way back.  We walked through Bellavista, this time avoiding all the artisan shops.  We didn't completely manage to avoid all temptation, though, as we came across a street vendor selling trees and animals made from bent wire.  He ended up having a conversation with us in English, and even offered to drop the price of his tree down from 10 mil to 5 mil, and throw in two free flowers just for fun!  We could hardly say no to that offer!  He also tried to sell us a sculpted tarantula, but Mom told him she would probably get in trouble for bringing that on the plane.  He told her not to worry, because he had, in fact, already traveled on a plane with it!  He did get momentarily detained when the customs officers insisted on searching his bag for live animals and he threatened that his giant pet spider would bite them.  Apparently, it took a while before anyone was brave enough to actually open the bag.  But he guaranteed that it would be allowed past security.  We politely declined and went back on our way with our new metallic flora.

On the way back we walked through Barrio Lastarria, a bohemian neighborhood that is mostly populated by actors and musicians.  On the weekends there is a street fair with vendors selling used books and antiques.  Of course we had to stop by for a look.  Unfortunately, all the really cool stuff was too big to fit in a suitcase, so we had to pass it up.  That doesn't mean we didn't enjoy looking, though!  Once we'd had our fill there, we walked a couple blocks more to where all the restaurants were located in the neighborhood.  We'd made it about halfway home by this time, so we figured we deserved a break.  We chose a restaurant that was built into the ruins of an old estate that had been build to resemble a castle.  We were mostly just hot and tired, so Mom ordered a glass of red wine and I ordered some ice cream.  The waitress listed off some strange flavors that I hadn't heard before, and she couldn't really describe them when I asked her to.  So, I told her just to surprise me.  I never really was sure what the flavors were, but they were pretty delicious!  And the best part was the fact that it was served in a martini glass with a fresh flower decorating the top!

By the time we finished our wine and ice cream (great combination, by the way), it was starting to get dark.  We thought about taking a cab the rest of the way home, but decided to brave the walk.  The last few blocks were a big tough, but we managed to get there pretty much in one piece.  We took a quick stop at the grocery store across the street to get some more wine for dinner, and headed up stairs.  We ate some leftover curry, watched some bad American tv, and went to bed.  For a day that started out on a whim, it turned out fairly awesome!

La Feria Libre

The next few days were pretty relaxed, and consisted mostly of CSI marathons.  We stayed in all day Thursday, just trying to recuperate.  By Friday we were feeling good enough to venture out a bit, if only to the fruit and veggie market a few blocks from my house.  I guess I've gotten so used to it that I forgot how impressive it was to see the first time!  It really is quite a sight--four whole blocks covered in stands full of fresh fruit and vegetables.  Some people also sell household goods, cleaning supplies, and even toilet paper.  Sometimes there is a fish stand, too, where you can pick out your fresh fish and they will gut it for you right in front of your eyes.  My personal favorites are the used-clothing stands  where you can get three t-shirts for 500 pesos (about a dollar).  A large portion of my wardrobe has come from there (which may explain why my students say I look like a hippie cowgirl).  So, it was fun to go with someone who had never been before and was still impressed by everything.  It can get pretty crowded, so my main objective is usually to find the best prices and get out of there as quickly as possible.  Luckily, we got there early enough to avoid the huge crowds and be able to enjoy the market at a bit slower pace.  There were more sellers than usual, too--probably because we're moving into spring here in Santiago and there is more produce available to sell.  We brought my market cart, because we knew we needed to stock up--at this point, the only food left in my apartment was a quarter bag of rice and some snacks Mom had gotten on her plane ride from the U.S.

Before we reached the food section, we passed through the used clothing/antiques/other random goods section.  I'd recently taken up knitting to pass the time between classes (sometimes I have 6 hour breaks!), so I've gotten to know "the knitting lady," as I call her.  She sells all sorts of assorted items, among them knitting supplies.  She is really friendly and is usually sitting and knitting something herself during the fair.  I've tried knitting before, but as many of you know, I'm not so good with numbers and a bit part of knitting involves careful counting.  Therefore, I have not had much success with my past attempts at knitting.  The lady at the fair, however, showed me a cool "beginners" contraption that keeps track of the stitches for you.  It's great for people with short attention spans, because no matter where or why you stop, you always know exactly where to start up again.  I'd bought the contraption from her a few weeks ago, and had been going back every week since to buy more yarn for my creation.  I'm (trying to) make an afghan.  It's going to be made up of many squares of different colors.  So far, I've finished two squares.  I'm guessed I'll need about 9 to finish it off.  Wow, I'd better get working on that!  Anyway, we took a quick stop at the knitting booth where the lady gave me some advice for my afghan, and Mom bought some yarn to make strap covers for one of her bags.

Then, we got down to business--the food!  Not only does spring mean more selection, it also means better prices!  I was excited to see that avocado, for example, had fallen from 2400 pesos per kilo down to 1500.  I've still seen cheaper, but at least it was a start.  And even at the high prices, it's always much cheaper than it ever was in the states!  We bought a few for snacking, and continued on. Like I said, I'm usually all business at the market, so I had to remember to slow down for Mom to take some pictures.  I'm really glad she did; I'm sure I'll want to show people what the market is like when I get back home.  And then I'll probably get depressed at how expensive food is in the U.S. Or England.  Why can't I live somewhere tropical, again?!

Speaking of tropical, we found some strange fruits that Mom had never seen before.  She was feeling brave again (after having enough time to recover from our parrillada), so we bought some to try out.  They're called pepinos dulces in Spanish, and I haven't been able to find a good translation for that in English.  It literally means "sweet cucumber," which is a fairly good description, I suppose.  In terms of taste, at least.  It looks kind of like a pear with a harder, more colorful shell.  They're usually purple and yellow, so obviously I liked them before I even tasted them.  The best English translation so far is "melon pear," because it looks like a pear but tastes like a melon.  I actually think they're pretty perfect, because I love melon, but I don't have much self-control and tend to eat the whole thing in one sitting.  Now, I can have the taste I crave without overindulging.  They're natures original 100-calorie packs.  I tried to convince her to try a Chirimoya, too, but she decided one exotic fruit was enough for one day.  Maybe next time!

We finished up with our purchases of the essentials (i.e. ingredients for curry), and were about to head back home when Mom caught site of the fish stand.  She went over to take some pictures and, as always seems to happen to her, managed to end up having a conversation with a couple standing in line with their baby.  Of course, they didn't speak English, but an in-depth conversation ensued despite that minor setback.  Turns out, they had just moved to Santiago from a small village in the south of Chile, and were astounded by the prices of fish in the city.  The conversation had initially started when they asked Mom if she was taking pictures of the outrages prices.  Apparently, in Santiago the fish they wanted to buy cost almost $30USD, whereas they could have gotten the same thing from their hometown for less than $7!  We commiserated for a while about our mutual dislike for big cities, and we learned that they only reason the family was in Santiago in the first place was because the husband was an internal medicine resident and had to complete a few years at a major hospital.  The wife told me they were heading back south the instant he finished.

As the conversation got more complicated, Mom couldn't understand the adults anymore, so she began to play with the baby.  Soon enough, the baby was laughing and having a grand old time.  The sound of laughter coming from her child threw the woman off guard.  She told us that her baby was usually really fickle, and absolutely hated strangers.  So obviously he would become best friends with Mom!

After saying our good-byes from the family, we started our way back to the apartment.  On the way, Mom bought some flowers to freshen up the apartment.  We also had to stop at the antique booths to see what they had to offer.  We bought a silver vase for the flowers, and Mom found a unique wall hook to take home.  With my cart (and our arms) full to overflowing, we finally made it back to the apartment.  We were pretty satisfied with our loot, and started to put it away right away.  Mom's back was still a bit sore, so sat down and read while I finished organizing our stuff.  I put away everything except what I needed to make curry.  I was nice this time, and made it as mild as I could.  Despite our long stop at the fish stand, we'd forgotten to get any sort of meat for the curry, so I threw in some crushed almonds as a protein instead.  I made a yellow curry with eggplant, onion, carrots, and almonds.  We watched some more CSI as we waited for it to simmer to perfection.

When dinner was ready, I was surprised that not only did Mom like hers, she even asked for more!  So far, I've always had to coerce people into trying curry (yes, even Scott who is now addicted to it).  After dinner, Mom went upstairs for a smoke while I worked on some school preparations.  I was deep in concentration mode when I thought I heard some voices speaking English in the hallway.  At first, I thought it might be some new neighbors (there are a lot of foreigners in my building), but then I realized that one of the voices sounded a lot like Mom's.  When the door opening, it was Mom, and another woman that I didn't recognize.

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Apparently, the woman had just moved into the building a couple days ago, but she and Mom had already run into each other about three times!  They got to talking, and Mom learned that the woman was from the states, but had been in Argentina the past few months looking for a job teaching English. Having had no luck there, she decided to come to Santiago and have a go here.  We invited her and talked for nearly an hour.  We exchanged stories about the funny anomalies in the language in Chile and Argentina, and laughed at how little our training in Spanish actually helped us in "real life." I gave her some names of English institutes that I'd heard were hiring, and lent her my book of Chilean slang.  By the time we finished exchanging details, it had gotten fairly late.  After our new friend headed back to her apartment, we got ready for bed in preparation for another exciting day to come.

Back to Chile

We returned to Chile early on the morning of September 19.  When I was looking for tickets, I had initially wanted to return the 18th, but could not find one flight to Santiago on that day.  September 18 is a national holiday, and Chileans do take those pretty seriously.  I wonder if there were any flights in Chile at all that day!  Things worked out in the end, though, and it was nice to have the extra day in Mendoza.  The flight back was pretty full (all the Chileans returning to work after the long vacation), but the process was much easier this time.

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We got to the airport really early, nervous because of our experience coming to Argentina.  We got there so early, in fact, that the check-in counter wasn't even staffed yet!  It looked like a few other people had the same idea we did, though, because we were about the 8th group in line.  Mom held our spot while I ran to grab us some coffee to wake us up and keep us warm.  Of course, the 19th was the coldest day in Mendoza so far, and the LAN check-in counter was right next to open door.  Luckily, the coffee did the trick and lasted just long enough for the employees to arrive and get settled in.  The attendant was really friendly, and even moved our seats for us--row 3, business class!  On this particular plane, that just meant that we were closer to the exit and had a partition between "us" and "them," but we felt special nonetheless.

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The check-in process went so smoothly that security for our gate still wasn't open by the time we finished.  We waited nearby for a few minutes, but it didn't look like they were going to open up any time soon.  We took the opportunity to head upstairs to the cafe for breakfast.  Unfortunately, Argentinians are apparently not into big breakfasts, and the only options available before 11:00 am were alfajores and croissants.  Disappointed but hungry nonetheless, we ordered some croissants and more coffee.  We sat for a while, eating and just observing the other people in the cafe.  It seemed that most of the people were just there to relax, or hold business meetings.  Only one other person had luggage, a sweet-looking old lady of about 70.  She ordered 6 croissants and a large coffee, gulped it all down and was on her way before our coffee even had a chance to cool down!  She obviously wasn't on the same flight as us, because we took our time and security still wasn't open by the time we got back down.  I got in the growing line while Mom went out for one last cigarette break.

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By the time she got back, the line had started to move.  A little in front of us was a large crowd, and we couldn't tell if they were part of the line or not.  They all did move forward whenever the line moved, but none of them seemed to have any luggage.  And they were all crying.  As they reached the checkpoint, all but two of them pulled back.  The two that stayed were a young couple in their mid- to late-twenties.  They were hugging, and the woman especially looked like she was holding on to the man for dear life.  She was sobbing uncontrollably.  Their embrace seemed as if it would last forever, until someone behind them yelled for them to hurry up.  At first, we all thought they didn't hear, because they didn't move.  Eventually, the man backed up and pushed the woman away.  He looked pained as he walked through the checkpoint, the whole while looking behind him at the large group left in the lobby.  The woman followed him until the glass window turned to concrete and they could no longer see each other.  As their final good-bye, they lovingly "touched" hands through the glass window, lingering until a security officer told them they were blocking the way.

I have no idea what the back story is, and I can't decide if it's romantic or maybe a little pathetic.  If he's going away for a long time, or maybe going to do something dangerous--totally romantic.  If it's just his first weekend away from home--come on, people!  I don't know how things are in Argentina, but in Chile, children live with their parents until marriage.  The average age of marriage is actually higher in Chile than in the U.S., meaning most people are almost 30 before they leave "the nest."  Families are typically very close-knit, and even after marriage the children still visit their parents weekly (if not more).  Maybe it's just my different cultural upbringing, but I personally find the attachment a little intimidating.  For foreigners like me, it makes it very difficult to make friends, because social groups are comprised mostly of family and family friends.  The only way in is to have a previous connection (or a romantic one).  I'm not trying to say that one model is better than the other--sometimes I think that we in the U.S. are too quick to become independent and often have trouble developing the deeper relationships that are so common in countries like Chile; It's just difficult for me to understand the feelings involved.

I mean, in the two years (and some months) of dating, Scott and I have only been physically together for about 9 months.  In fact, we've already talked about the importance of our own independence, and have agreed that it will most likely be necessary for each of us to periodically spend time alone (or at least not with one another) to maintain our relationship.  Of course, this mentality is strange even for people from the U.S.--we often get asked why on earth we'd want to marry each other if we already know that we don't want to spend 24/7/365 together!  Maybe we're just total oddballs, but we both agree that one of the most important aspects of a healthy relationship is for each partner to be comfortable with who s/he is alone.  After all, how can you be comfortable with another person if you can't even be so with yourself?  Just my two cents here, feel free to leave your own opinions!

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Anyways, once the romantic movie scene finished playing out in front of us, we got through security without a hitch.  There wasn't much on the other side--just an insanely over-priced cafe and a small duty-free shop.  I guarded our luggage while Mom grabbed a drink (a $5 Pepsi) and perused the duty-free shop.  She took the opportunity to buy a carton of cigarettes to last her the rest of her stay, because cigarette prices in Chile are through the roof!  I don't smoke so I don't know exact numbers, but I've heard enough complaints from my counterparts to know that it's even more than in the states.  Most of that is due to the 62.3% ad valorem tax implemented in 2010.  Moral of the story: don't smoke!

With our final important purchase in hand, we sat down to wait for boarding.  We didn't have to wait long, because they called us about five minutes later.  Being in business class, we got to board first (along with the babies).  We were even given caramel candies as we boarded!  We settled in and got comfortable for the short ride back to Santiago.  Unlike our first flight, this one was only about five minutes late to take off, and that didn't even affect the arrival time.  In fact, we touched down a few minutes before estimated!

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Back in Chile, we had to go through passport control and customs again.  This is one time I was glad that Santiago is such a big city, because they had about 10 lanes open, and we got through passport control in about 5 minutes.  We could have breezed through customs just as quickly, but for the fact that we had to wait for our checked luggage (my dress!).  We decided that Mom should get through customs with her carry-on while I waited for the checked luggage.  Of course, being some of the first to check in for the flight, our luggage was some of the last to come out.  It took so long that most everyone else had already been through customs, so I didn't have to wait much at that line either.  There was a small snag when they discovered Hannah's mask (made of seeds), but after a closer inspection they let it through.  They also had to pull out the dress because the view on the scanner made all the beading look like seeds.  After the minor delay, I was back out onto Chilean soil.

We arranged for a Transvip shuttle back to my apartment, but ended up having to wait almost half an hour to leave.  Apart from the Christmas holidays, September 19 is probably the busiest travel day in the country.  By the time we left the airport, our shuttle was packed full of people and luggage.  Luckily, we were the second ones dropped off.  When we arrived, Mom's friend (the cleaning lady) came out to help us with the luggage.  Juan, the friendly concierge, welcomed us back to Santiago although he expressed sincere disappointment at our lack of participation in the Chilean festivities.  He told me that there was still one fonda going on, and we could catch it if we went out at 8:00 that night. We thought about it, but decided that after our long day, 8:00 was just too late to be awake.  I guess this just means that I'll have to come back another year for the September 18 celebrations!

Back up in the apartment, we had a quick lunch (leftover curry, yum!), pushed our luggage out of the way, and got into bed for a well-needed nap.  The rest of the day was spent relaxing and inventorying all the goodies we'd acquired on the trip.  It was a cold day, but that was OK with us because once we got in, we stayed in.  That night, we could hear the shouts of party-goers giving one last hurrah for the much-anticipated independence holiday.  We celebrated our independence of choice, and went to bed.

Last Day in Mendoza

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Revived after a fairly relaxing day (and a great dinner), we woke up early on our last day in Mendoza.  It was still pretty chilly, but not quite as windy as it had been the day before.  Since this would be our last opportunity to savor the free breakfast at the hotel, we took our time and enjoyed as much as possible.  Plus, it was still cold enough out to encourage us to stay within the warm confines of the hotel a bit longer.  We used the time to talk about--what else--girly stuff!  Well, as girly as either Mom or I can get, which amounted to more wedding ideas.  Now that we had the dress, we had to figure out accessories!  The most important accessory, of course, is shoes.  And if you haven't noticed (I may have even mentioned it a couple posts back), I sincerely despise shoes.  We purposely had the dress fitted so that I can wear no shoes if I want.  However, it is generally recommendable to wear something on your feet if you're going hiking, so I'll probably have to come up with something, at least to wear after the ceremony.  After buying the Toms-like shoes and talking to Jaimee (who has a slight obsession with Toms shoes) a couple days before, we thought that style would be a good option.  Mom is really crafty, so she offered to jazz up a pair for me.  We'll see what transpires between now and next summer, but as of breakfast, we'd settled on some shiny pink shoes with white lace.  That's bridal, right?  As bridal as you're going to get from me!

As you can see, I (and Mom) have kind of been taking over the wedding planning without giving much input to Scott.  I haven't really had much of an opportunity to talk to him since he went to England, because he still doesn't have internet at his house, and it costs 25¢ per minute to call his cell phone from Skype.  I'd already used up more than my monthly phone allowance calling him, so I was pretty much resigned to waiting another month until he finally gets internet at the end of October.  However, Mom was nice enough to top up my Skype credit so that I could call him a little more.  Her donation allows for 400 minutes, which seems like a lot, but spread out over a month runs dry pretty quickly!  We've still got 20 more days of non-internet, and we're already having to ration pretty strictly.  Anyways, the point is that I did get to talk to him from Mendoza, and it was awesome.  I told him about some of our ideas for the wedding (leaving out the specifics of the dress), and he said he'd be OK with anything I wanted to do as long as we were married in the end.  He did have one request, however, and that was regarding the cake.

www.brides.com

Scott's favorite season is autumn, and probably the only reason we're not getting married in the fall is because of the school schedule.  To go along with his appreciation of the season comes his admiration for the colors its produces, particularly orange.  We talked about mixing our two favorite colors--orange and purple--but the hue of my spontaneously-bought dress made this plan difficult.   Strange that purple and orange can be combined well, but pink and orange rarely work.  I'm not sure why this is, but I'm sure if I ask my design students they can enlighten me!  They were getting very frustrated when I made them do an exercise arranging sentences by the color I had shaded each word.  They were annoyed not because the exercise was difficult, but because I labeled the colors as "blue" instead of "cyan" and "pink" instead of "magenta."  So maybe we're mistaken and Scott's favorite color isn't orange, but perhaps auburn or even amber!  Either way, he is adamant about somehow incorporating this into the wedding, and is determined that the cake will be autumn-themed regardless of the actual season at the time of the wedding.  That's fine with me; I never really was into matching anyways.  My main concern is figuring out how to get a cake from The Little Aussie Bakery.  If you've never gotten the chance to try one of their cakes, you haven't truly eaten cake.

Anyways, after much coffee and wedding planning, Mom and I decided we were ready to tackle the day.  In all our days in Mendoza, we still hadn't gotten the opportunity to check out any of the museums.  There were a couple close to our hotel, but we were feeling adventurous and decided to try out one that the information officer had pointed out to me yesterday.  It was a bit of a hike, but it was built right on top on the center of the "old" city, so was sure to have a lot of history.  We had a map of the city, but after our experience trying to use a map to navigate the park, we were slightly hesitant to trust it.  Nonetheless, we headed off to the north, encouraged by the few rays of sunshine poking through the clouds.  Our plan was to head straight north until we came to the street on which the museum was located, then go east until we reached it.

We walked for quite a while, just enjoying the nice weather.  It was slightly chilly, but there was no wind and the bits of sunshine that broke through the clouds made it a perfect day for a walk.  We walked in silence, admiring the architecture and the slow pace of the people in the city.  We'd nearly reached the street where we were supposed to turn, but saw a big hill just a few blocks more to the north and decided it was worth the detour to investigate.  Turns out that was the corner of the Parque Central, a smaller but nonetheless impressive city park.  This park is also much newer--it was built in 2003.  We managed to walk the entire thing without getting lost once!  It helped that it was landscaped and heavily manicured, but we were proud of ourselves anyway.  We walked past a large mosaic and through the playground and stopped to watch a toddler chase the pigeons.  She actually managed to sneak up and grab one while he snacked on a piece of bread left on the ground!  I think she was more frightened by that development than he was!

We also stopped to admire some of the sculptures scattered throughout the park (while at the same time attempting to avert our eyes from the dozens of young lovers admiring one another).  Most of the artwork is what would generally be considered "modern art," and neither of us are big fans of that, so after a few minutes we decided to continue on our way to the history museum.  We passed under a highway bridge to get to the other side of the street, and came to the conclusion that we enjoyed the graffiti there much better than the official artwork in the park.  What can I say?  We have expensive taste.

After a brief detour down the wrong street, we were once again on track towards the museum.  As we approached our destination, the architecture began to change noticeably.  Not that the buildings downtown were skyscrapers, but they were fairly tall.  Out in the "old" city, it became mostly residential, and even the commercial buildings were smaller and less ostentatious. As I mentioned in a previous post, this is because this is the area that is considered the "original" Mendoza.  Before the earthquake, this area was filled with beautiful, traditional houses and was the commercial center for the city.  When the earthquake hit, everything was destroyed and the citizens could no longer bear to see the reminders of the former glory of their crippled city.  For many years, that section of town was completely ignored and became a place for homeless and vagabonds.  Eventually, the area became such a detriment to the town's safety that it was eventually rebuilt, but never to the same degree of elegance that it had originally.

Despite the citizen's reluctance to rebuild the area, they did a very nice job.  After walking quite a while through pretty boring streets, we came upon a beautiful plaza full of flowers and monuments.  If any of you are familiar with the layout of Spanish colonial cities, you may have been surprised to learn in previous entries that the main plaza of Mendoza is Plaza Independencia.  It is typical of Spanish colonial towns to be centered around a main plaza called "Plaza de Armas."  This is because the majority of these cities were founded to serve military purposes, so the main plaza was the place around which weapons (armas) were stored.  Usually the military leaders had the privilege of living the closest to this plaza, while those of lower social classes were forced to live further away.  Even today, when the military is not as prevalent (and if it is, tends not to be located right in the center of town), most colonial cities are still centered around their original "Plaza de Armas."  So, the plaza we came to here in Mendoza was the original Plaza de Armas that was destroyed with everything else in the city in the 1861 earthquake.  When the city was rebuilt, the main plaza was moved westward and given a different name.  Even to this day, there is no Plaza de Armas in Mendoza (although many tourists mistakenly give that name to Plaza Independencia, accustomed to the traditional layout of Spanish colonies).  The plaza we came to is now called Plaza Pedro de Castillo, after the founder of the city

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At the far end of the original Plaza de Armas, next to Rio Mendoza (which actually turned out not to be a river at all, but instead an irrigation ditch dug by the Huarpes), stood the original cabildo (colonial government building).  It had been destroyed by the earthquake and nearly forgotten for many years.  In fact, a new fruit and vegetable fair was built on top of the former seat of government and life continued.  It wasn't until the late 1980s when archaeologists studying old maps realized the importance of the land underneath the fair.  They began to excavate and uncovered some of the original plaza.  Most importantly, they discovered a very well-preserved shell of the cabildo, protected over the years by the very thing that had been set up to forget it.  Excavations intensified to discover as much as possible about the history of their beloved city.  A foundation was even set up to preserve the discoveries.  Finally, in 1993, the Museo del Área Fundacional was erected directly on top of the old cabildo.

Now, before all my archaeologist friends get all nervous, don't worry.  Excavations are ongoing, so there is usually an archaeologist present to ensure the integrity of the site.  Of course, all objects were mapped and photographed in-situ before being removed for conservation and eventual exhibition at the museum.  The more fragile parts of the cabildo are visible only through a glass floor.  The other parts are visible but access is restricted.  While you can't actually go right into the cabildo, you can stand right above it and imagine its glory in years past.  The museum displays objects and information about the history of the area from Pre-Colombian times through to the present.  It's not a very large museum, but I was surprised at how in-depth the history was!  I've already given the basics of it in a previous post, so I won't go through it again.  The part that I enjoyed the most was the first-hand accounts given about many historic events throughout the history of Mendoza.  As I reach each story, I could almost imagine myself living the life of each individual throughout time.  In the end, I decided I was very glad to live in my own time period.

After perusing the museum for probably way too long (anyone who has ever been to one with me knows that I have to read every single panel about every single object), we were starting to get hungry.  It was quite a ways back to our hotel, but we figured we'd go part of the way and find a restaurant to have some dinner and restore our energy.  Mom took a quick smoke break before we started off, and I took the time to admire the statues in front of the museum.  I hadn't noticed before, but there was one story for each different era in the history of the city, and a quote underneath from a notable person from that era.  Of course, I had to take a picture of all of them.  If you want to see, check out the album on my Facebook page.  For now, you'll just have to be satisfied with  my favorite.  After admiring the artwork, we started off back towards downtown.  Of course, after a couple hours inside the museum while the weather was perfectly sunny, it started to rain as soon as we began walking.  Luckily, we made it fairly quickly to Avenida San Martin, a large street filled with shops.  Most of them had awnings, so we stuck close to the buildings, trying to stay as dry as possible.  Strangely, we weren't having much luck finding any place to eat, so we continued on.  At one point, the rain started to come down in a downpour, so we waited it out inside a discount store.  Full of imported and imitation goods, it reminded me of the dollar store.  Oh, home sweet home!

Luckily, the rain let up fairly quickly and were able to continue our search for sustenance.  We still didn't see many options, but kept telling ourselves it would be only on the next block.  About 10 "next blocks" later, we'd arrived back to Peatonal Sarmiento, the pedestrian street that we'd shopped on many times in the past few days.  Surely there would be something here!  There was actually a really delicious-looking restaurant right on the first corner, but when we got closer to investigate, it turned out they were closed.  At this point we were getting so desperate that we nearly just went to the McDonald's at the end of the block, but decided to give it one more try.  Good thing we did, too, because we came across a great restaurant!  Since this would be our last meal in Mendoza, we ordered one last bottle of wine and decided to try one more new type of meat.  We weren't quite as adventurous as day one, but we did order some grilled goat, just to round off our list of exotic meat.  I enjoyed it, although Mom wasn't a big fan.  It was heavily seasoned with rosemary, which reminds me of the food at The Little Aussie, so that may have been part of the reason I enjoyed it so much!  In the end we were glad we tried it, even if it didn't turn out to be our favorite.

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After dinner, we went back to the hotel to pack up for our early departure the next day.  We still had to go pick up my dress, but were told it wouldn't be ready until after 8:00, so we used the time to organize our souvenirs and to just relax after the long day.  Finally, at about 7:45, we headed out to retrieve the dress.  When we got to the store, we were disappointed that Monica wasn't there (she was on business in Buenos Aires).  The saleswoman showed us the modifications that had been made, and took me into the dressing room to try it on one more time.  We had a bit of a scare when they couldn't get the zipper up, but rubbing it with a bar of soap fixed that.  Good motivation not to gain weight, I guess!  I modeled the dress one more time in front of the mirrors, and felt reassured that I still felt like a princess.  The seamstress pulled out a shawl and showed Mom how she could tie it behind me so that it wouldn't fall off.  She took some pictures so that she wouldn't forget in the 10 months before the wedding.  The saleswoman packed everything up into the garment bag and we were on our way.  We had a slight delay when we set off the alarm system and realized that they'd forgotten to remove the device from the skirt of the dress, but that problem was resolved quickly.

I felt a little strange walking through downtown carrying a huge dress above my head, but the awkwardness was overshadowed by my excitement to wear the dress.  Back at the hotel, we carefully packed it up in the suitcase we had bought especially for it.  We did some last-minute preparations, asked for a wake-up call, and headed to bed.  The trip back to Santiago the next day was much easier than the trip to Mendoza!  We were very glad for that; our trip sure had tired us out!