vina del mar

I’m going to continue to avoid talking about school. I have four more days left at Obispo Alvear and that’s depressing, so I’ll tell you about my weekend instead.

Friday night was all about size. I joined the cool female teachers and their palolos y esposos (boyfriends and husbands) for dinner at a restaurant called Los Buenos Muchachos. We were a large group, sixteen I think. Not that it mattered – I can honestly say I have never seen a bigger restaurant. I got the feeling that you’d get laughed at if you tried to make a reservation for two. The place had a full stage, with screens in each of the three ‘wings’ of the hall so everyone could see the show. There was cueca (traditional napkin-twirling Chilean national dance), Hawaii-style hip swaying from Easter Island, scantily clad tango dancers, and a ‘group dance’ moment oddly reminiscent of aerodance at the Y. The food was parrilladas – a pile of meat served sizzling over hot coals. We probably started eating at around 10:30, and at 2:30 we finally decided to leave the dance floor. When we left the restaurant, it was pouring outside. Rain makes Santiago almost Venice-like – and I don’t mean that it gets any more romantic. The lack of drains makes walking across the street a cold and soggy experience. Luckily for me, one of the teachers lives vaguely near me so I got dropped to my gate.

It was still raining when I woke up on Saturday morning. I dragged myself out of bed, put my toothbrush and some clean socks in my backpack and hopped on a bus to Vina del Mar – where I was quite happy to find the only water around crashing joyfully onto the beach. The most beautiful part of Vina was of course Julia, who is halfway through a Spanish course at the Universidad Catolica. I can’t begin to tell you how wonderful it was to see her – a little taste of home. Her host family welcomed me with the characteristic hospitality that continues to impress me in Chile. We spent a lazy afternoon wandering the boardwalk and soaking up the sun. We took some ridiculous self-shots on the beach, which I am posting to show how disgustingly pale I am. Even Julia – blond and fair as she is – has more colour in her face. Ugh.

Vina is a classier, cleaner version of its sister city Valpo. There are massive palms lining the streets, glassy high-rises along the water, and the casino bulging out onto the beach. The long stretch of sand and its proximity to Santiago make Vina a summer hotspot – apparently the streets get so full of people that driving is impossible. Vina has mounds of festivals and the casino has its share of big acts. I heard plenty of English over the weekend – but I guess the foreigners are probably a lot more obvious in the winter.

The coolest thing about Saturday night was that I conversed in every single language that I know. English with Julia and her Canadian/American/Norwegian friends from school, French with Julia and the Chilean dude who just got back from a study abroad in France, Spanish with the Mexican and Columbian exchange students, and Portuguese with a Brazilian girl doing some sort of journalism internship. Our night started at a bar in Vina with a topless photo of Madonna on the wall and ended at a salsa-pumping patio in Valparaiso. Good partying, complete with piscolas (pisco + coke) and the 6 am micro bus ride that makes going out in Chile the adventure that is it.

Sunday involved waking up to a yummy lunch of casuela (a cross between chicken soup and stew), planning where will wander in August over a massive banana split on a patio near the beach and a sleepy 2 hour bus ride back to Santiago. ...