Hey readers, I sort of forgot I had a blog. Sorry for not posting for so long. I guess you could say I've been juggling my time among a 20 page essay, a 10 page essay, and my girlfriend. I'll try and recap what I've been doing for the last month or so.
September 11th has a much different significance here than in the United States. It marks the day when Pinochet enacted a coup d'etat (golpe de estado) and Allende killed himself in the capitol building. Because most of our military friends are pro-Pinochet, it's also celebrated as the day Pinochet saved the country from Socialism. That's the attitude with which we were celebrating. I could give you another account of how I got really drunk and did some stupid stuff, but I really don't want to be viewed as an alcoholic by y'all.
The next week, a delegation of cadets from Bolivia, Paraguay, Uruguay, Argentina, Germany, France, and Mexico arrived. Naturally, we were the representatives for the United States. Needless to say, it was a pretty interesting experience. The Germans only spoke German and English. The Brazilians didn't speak Spanish very well and nobody else from the delegation spoke Portuguese. The French (Amaury) speaks French, English, and Spanish. He'll actually be living with us until December. I actually had to help translate a conversation between a Chilean cadet and one of the Germans who was trying to get with her.
The week was filled with various activities to show us around Chile. First we went to the vineyard at Concha y Toro where we got to do some wine tasting and learn about wine. I'm now an expert on wine so don't be serving me cheap wine. I'll know. The next day we went up to a ski slope. We didn't ski though, we just all threw snowballs at the French guy and everyone laughed at him. I'm fairly certain that the next day was the Chilean Day of Independence, September 18th. For this we went to a rodeo and, as was customary during that week, we ate free steak and drank free wine. Then we went to a park for this grand party. As usual, we drank a bunch. The Mexican lieutenant kept wanting to take pictures with Chilean girls, so we obliged him. The next day was the military parade for which all the cadets had been preparing for weeks. So we threw on our fanciest uniforms and headed over to Parque O'Higgins to watch the parade. It started with a speech by President Piñera who talked about varioius nonsense. He also gave a shout-out to the 33 miners who were still trapped underground at that time. Then the parade started and never ended. Unit after unit streamed by without end. There were tanks and commandos and bridge-building trucks and motorcycle brigades and thousands of soldiers, sailors, and airmen. There were a frew fly-bys, which was pretty cool. After about 3 or 4 hours, we left to go drink some more free wine. Ate some more free steak. Some presents were exchanged and then we went back to the school to sleep.
As the delegation began going their seperate aways, we exchanged some uniform items and said our goodbyes. All in all, it was a very interesting experience. I got to play soccer with people from all over South America and Europe(playing is much more fun than being a referee, with which I've had experience). Needless to say, the Americans were the worst guys out there.
That's all I've got to say for now. I'm pretty hungry, so I'm going to peace out.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
Just Broing It Up With Generals
I'll start off by apologizing to my blogochochillas for not posting anything in a while. I've been sort of busy, because apparently my professors actually want me to work on this 20 page essay. I'm not sure when this event happened, except that it was a random Tuesday night some weeks ago. Antonio, my fellow West Pointer, Jordan, our ROTC amigo, and I were told that we needed to be at the main auditorium for a concert that night. This might strike you as odd, but these random pieces of entertainment are quite common here. The other day we had one that was a sort of literary quiz bowl between the six cadet companies. We also got to see one of our Chilean friends prance about dressed as none other than Bernado O'Higgins, the liberator of Chile. But I digress.
We arrived at the concert, Antonio and I wearing our formal West Point uniforms and Jordan wearing his Class As. So there we were, waiting for the concert to begin, when this Chilean officer approaches us and casually tells us that there will be a three star general there who wants to talk with us. Now, I generally like to have at least a heads up about this thing before I leave my room. This would give me time to shave again, shine my shoes, and whatnot. This time, I didn't have the opportunity to do that, so my friends and I just looked each other for anything to fix before we went to meet this general. At that point, we realized that there wasn't just going to be one general, but that there was going to be a whole slew of military officer. The concert was entertainment for a conference of Pacific nations like Japan, New Zealand, Chile, America, and others. So we tried to enjoy the concert and not think about meeting this entire delegation of officers.
Once the concert was over, the school presented an award to the three star general who we were going to meet. He accepted the award and as he was walking off the stage, he saw us sitting in the front row and pointed to us as he left. There would be no avoiding this interaction. We headed to the area behind the auditorium where all the officers were relaxing, drinking cocktails and whatnot. A bunch of officers started talking to us, but it wasn't long before some West Point grads grabbed us and had us take a picture with a West Point two star general. In doing this, they exiled Jordan to talk to some foreign officers and second lieutenants. So we talked to them for a while and we all got some generals coins. Everybody was actually pretty laid back and nobody pointed out anything wrong with our uniforms or haircuts, which is always good. They were passing around Pisco Sour and all manner of snacks, but I decided it would be best not to drink around a bunch of generals, coronels, and Special Forces officers, of which there were quite a few. I guess I still have a problem with drinking around officers. Hopefully, it's just a phase.
Everyone we talked to was pretty intent on making sure were understood how important it was to make connections in the school so we could "climb the ladder". They kept mentioning how the people we were living with in the school would be the leaders of the army and how that would help us "climb the ladder". One guy mentioned how if we joined Special Forces we would be able to "climb the ladder" to some "really fun places". Alright, they might not have said the phrase "climb the ladder" that much, but the overall impression I got was that they were career oriented people, which would explain why they were all Foreign Area Officers and embassy people. We also talked to a guy from the Canadian army and a woman from Australia. At the end of the night, they staggered off to their bus drunk. I guess you could say it was a really interactive, cultural experience.
Normally, I'm just content to drink Pisco.
We arrived at the concert, Antonio and I wearing our formal West Point uniforms and Jordan wearing his Class As. So there we were, waiting for the concert to begin, when this Chilean officer approaches us and casually tells us that there will be a three star general there who wants to talk with us. Now, I generally like to have at least a heads up about this thing before I leave my room. This would give me time to shave again, shine my shoes, and whatnot. This time, I didn't have the opportunity to do that, so my friends and I just looked each other for anything to fix before we went to meet this general. At that point, we realized that there wasn't just going to be one general, but that there was going to be a whole slew of military officer. The concert was entertainment for a conference of Pacific nations like Japan, New Zealand, Chile, America, and others. So we tried to enjoy the concert and not think about meeting this entire delegation of officers.
Once the concert was over, the school presented an award to the three star general who we were going to meet. He accepted the award and as he was walking off the stage, he saw us sitting in the front row and pointed to us as he left. There would be no avoiding this interaction. We headed to the area behind the auditorium where all the officers were relaxing, drinking cocktails and whatnot. A bunch of officers started talking to us, but it wasn't long before some West Point grads grabbed us and had us take a picture with a West Point two star general. In doing this, they exiled Jordan to talk to some foreign officers and second lieutenants. So we talked to them for a while and we all got some generals coins. Everybody was actually pretty laid back and nobody pointed out anything wrong with our uniforms or haircuts, which is always good. They were passing around Pisco Sour and all manner of snacks, but I decided it would be best not to drink around a bunch of generals, coronels, and Special Forces officers, of which there were quite a few. I guess I still have a problem with drinking around officers. Hopefully, it's just a phase.
Everyone we talked to was pretty intent on making sure were understood how important it was to make connections in the school so we could "climb the ladder". They kept mentioning how the people we were living with in the school would be the leaders of the army and how that would help us "climb the ladder". One guy mentioned how if we joined Special Forces we would be able to "climb the ladder" to some "really fun places". Alright, they might not have said the phrase "climb the ladder" that much, but the overall impression I got was that they were career oriented people, which would explain why they were all Foreign Area Officers and embassy people. We also talked to a guy from the Canadian army and a woman from Australia. At the end of the night, they staggered off to their bus drunk. I guess you could say it was a really interactive, cultural experience.
Normally, I'm just content to drink Pisco.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Viña del Mar
The next day we woke up for our trip to the coast and the city of Viña del Mar. Antonio, Jaña, his cousin, and I jumped in a car and made the hour long journey to the sea. When we got there, we found the apartment of another one of our friends where we were going to spend the night and dropped of our bags. After eating some pizza, we walked along the beach, which mind you is freezing this time of year. We checked out some sand sculptures and walked through the mall. As it started to get dark, we stopped by a supermarket and bought pisco, coke, and rum. Doing all of this involved climbing millions of stone steps up from the area near the beach. We got back to the apartment and once again began imbibing Pisco.
We drank for a while, talking about subjects of no great importance. In all honesty, I didn't really understand what we were talking about, but I was getting my slant on, so it was alright. We ordered another pizza so that we wouldn't die out there at the disco. After rapidly consuming the pizza, we headed out to the combat.
We rolled on up to The Huevo, a club that featured multiple floors and two different dance floors with two different types of music on each floor. Unfortunately for us, the earthquake caused all but two of the floors to be closed. Anyway, we paid the 8 or 9 dollars to get into the club, which left me broke. It didn't take long before we found a group of girls to dance with. Viña del Mar and Rancagua differ from Santiago in that most of the girls in those places actually want to dance with dudes.
I don't have a whole lot to say about my experiences in the disco. I spent the entirety of the night dancing with one girl, a History major who actually lives in Santiago and bears a passing resemblance to Owen Wilson, which is generally unfortunate. At one point, we went down to a level where they were playing Bohemian Rhapsody. When she tried to sing in English, it sounded like the ends of broken bones rubbing together. Other than those small details, we had fun dancing and talking. Eventually she left, and shortly thereafter, we left.
Apparently the entire population of Viña was trying to eat at McDonald's, so we had to look for one that wasn't too crowded. In a moment of hubris, Antonio suggested that we get Double Quarter-pounders, and such was our hunger that we consented. So we ate our hamburgers looking out towards the moonlit water of the Pacific Ocean, no longer drunk on account of not having enough money to buy more alcohol. We finished eating, made it back to the apartment and went to sleep.
I think it was about an hour later that I awoke with the sensation of being way too full. For about 10 minutes, I struggled between trying not to soil myself or vomit. I brought strong sack and managed to keep either thing from happening, and then went to sleep, cursing the Double Quarter-pounders the entire time.
We drank for a while, talking about subjects of no great importance. In all honesty, I didn't really understand what we were talking about, but I was getting my slant on, so it was alright. We ordered another pizza so that we wouldn't die out there at the disco. After rapidly consuming the pizza, we headed out to the combat.
We rolled on up to The Huevo, a club that featured multiple floors and two different dance floors with two different types of music on each floor. Unfortunately for us, the earthquake caused all but two of the floors to be closed. Anyway, we paid the 8 or 9 dollars to get into the club, which left me broke. It didn't take long before we found a group of girls to dance with. Viña del Mar and Rancagua differ from Santiago in that most of the girls in those places actually want to dance with dudes.
I don't have a whole lot to say about my experiences in the disco. I spent the entirety of the night dancing with one girl, a History major who actually lives in Santiago and bears a passing resemblance to Owen Wilson, which is generally unfortunate. At one point, we went down to a level where they were playing Bohemian Rhapsody. When she tried to sing in English, it sounded like the ends of broken bones rubbing together. Other than those small details, we had fun dancing and talking. Eventually she left, and shortly thereafter, we left.
Apparently the entire population of Viña was trying to eat at McDonald's, so we had to look for one that wasn't too crowded. In a moment of hubris, Antonio suggested that we get Double Quarter-pounders, and such was our hunger that we consented. So we ate our hamburgers looking out towards the moonlit water of the Pacific Ocean, no longer drunk on account of not having enough money to buy more alcohol. We finished eating, made it back to the apartment and went to sleep.
I think it was about an hour later that I awoke with the sensation of being way too full. For about 10 minutes, I struggled between trying not to soil myself or vomit. I brought strong sack and managed to keep either thing from happening, and then went to sleep, cursing the Double Quarter-pounders the entire time.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Thursday Night in Rancagua
Alright, I'm going to try and wrap up this whole Rancagua trip series of posts, considering it's been two or three weeks since we were even there.
So there I was. Rancagua. Thursday Night. I had been told that this would be the big night of "combat". And it was. We started off by heading to Jañà's cousins house to pick him up. I assumed that we were going back to Jaña's place on account of it being about 4 in the afternoon, but I was completely wrong (this happens often). All of a sudden, we're parking in front of the disco. This confuses me because it's now about 5 o'clock and we haven't eaten dinner yet. This doesn't matter to the people of Rancagua though, because when we get into the disco, it's packed. We meet up with the girls that we had met previously and we get some Cristal or Escudo (the beer so bad that everyone mixes it with Fanta).
We seemingly danced for hours, or maybe we actually danced for hours, I'm not really sure. I didn't really look at my watch a whole lot and ended up keeping my eyes closed for alot of the time that we were dancing. Fill in the blanks, dear reader. Point being, an awesome time was being had by all. Then, the girls left and we entered the down phase of the night. I was starting to get hungry and Antonio and I were lobbying for a trip to McDonald's. We ordered some fries. It took roughly 30 minutes to make and it was no Cuarto de Libra (Quarter Pounder). So we continued to hang around, talking to some mean girls. We finally left, taking the mean girls with us (not with us, as in Antonio and I). So, after traveling with 6 people in a 5 seater car for a little bit, we picked up another car and set off to God-knows-where. You can see that there's this recurring theme of me being in cars with unknown destinations. So after passing up all the McDonald's in Chile, we bought some Pisco and Coke (just what I needed right then) and set off for a park.
So there we were, being sketchy, freezing, drinking in a park, and making friends with canine passers-by. As I consumed Piscola, I thought less about my hunger and more about nothing. After finishing off the bottle of Pisco, we hopped back in our cars and drove off to the next adventure. We arrived at the Punta del Este (East Point) and walked in. We purchased another bottle of Pisco and began drinking, as we watched people singing karaoke. Now, generally, when karaoke is present, you should slow your drinking down. However, I did not. At some point, I was thrust forward by my friends, and Jaña's cousin and I asked the karaoke operators to find us an English song for me to sing. A small man in the back of my mind was screaming about how bad of an idea this was, but he was violently ignored. We returned to our friends, continued drinking and moving about until finally, the karaoke operator signaled us forward. We grabbed the microphones, looked at the screen, and began singing. Much to my dismay, the lyrics were not in English and did not belong to an English song. As the DJ realized what was happening, I saw him approach us with a look on his face that said, "You are not a good singer. Furthermore, you do not speak Spanish." He asked me where I was from, and I said, with great pride and directly into the microphone "Los Estados Unidos". He the took the microphones away from us and walked back on to the stage.
You'd think that I would have been hurt by this. Far in the back of my head, that small man, drowned in Pisco, said something about being embarassed. He was ignored however, as I had entered what is known to some as "The Golden Zone" What it means is that I was awesome. In the words of cartoonist Brad Neely, "I was important, and funny, and helpful and seemingly rich, and I had the body of a heavy lifter." The curtain behind the stage rose and revealed a dance floor and a second bar. We burst forward and danced with an exuberance that can only be fueled by Pisco or insanity. I was dancing with everyone, sometimes two at a time. So all this was happening, and I was feeling great. Then, all of a sudden, I felt sobriety hit me in the face like a wet fish, and I knew that the night was about to turn ugly.
All of a sudden I realized how hungry I was. I tried to keep up the dancing, but I was no longer the awesome guy I had been seconds ago. I danced with a seemingly mute 30 year old woman, who would only guesture wildly at my friends for them to join us. They pulled me away from the situation like a man being pulled from a burning vehicle. I wandered about, trying to bring strong sack and overcome my hunger and fatigue, but I couldn't. We stayed there until the place closed, then we all piled back into somebody's car. We once again passed up all the McDonald's in Chile. We made it back to Jaña's house. There wasn't any way to get food from downstairs, so I ate two handfuls of Coco Puffs, drank three handfulls of tap water, and willed myself asleep. By the way, if you measure food and drink in handfulls, you're doing something wrong.
So there I was. Rancagua. Thursday Night. I had been told that this would be the big night of "combat". And it was. We started off by heading to Jañà's cousins house to pick him up. I assumed that we were going back to Jaña's place on account of it being about 4 in the afternoon, but I was completely wrong (this happens often). All of a sudden, we're parking in front of the disco. This confuses me because it's now about 5 o'clock and we haven't eaten dinner yet. This doesn't matter to the people of Rancagua though, because when we get into the disco, it's packed. We meet up with the girls that we had met previously and we get some Cristal or Escudo (the beer so bad that everyone mixes it with Fanta).
We seemingly danced for hours, or maybe we actually danced for hours, I'm not really sure. I didn't really look at my watch a whole lot and ended up keeping my eyes closed for alot of the time that we were dancing. Fill in the blanks, dear reader. Point being, an awesome time was being had by all. Then, the girls left and we entered the down phase of the night. I was starting to get hungry and Antonio and I were lobbying for a trip to McDonald's. We ordered some fries. It took roughly 30 minutes to make and it was no Cuarto de Libra (Quarter Pounder). So we continued to hang around, talking to some mean girls. We finally left, taking the mean girls with us (not with us, as in Antonio and I). So, after traveling with 6 people in a 5 seater car for a little bit, we picked up another car and set off to God-knows-where. You can see that there's this recurring theme of me being in cars with unknown destinations. So after passing up all the McDonald's in Chile, we bought some Pisco and Coke (just what I needed right then) and set off for a park.
So there we were, being sketchy, freezing, drinking in a park, and making friends with canine passers-by. As I consumed Piscola, I thought less about my hunger and more about nothing. After finishing off the bottle of Pisco, we hopped back in our cars and drove off to the next adventure. We arrived at the Punta del Este (East Point) and walked in. We purchased another bottle of Pisco and began drinking, as we watched people singing karaoke. Now, generally, when karaoke is present, you should slow your drinking down. However, I did not. At some point, I was thrust forward by my friends, and Jaña's cousin and I asked the karaoke operators to find us an English song for me to sing. A small man in the back of my mind was screaming about how bad of an idea this was, but he was violently ignored. We returned to our friends, continued drinking and moving about until finally, the karaoke operator signaled us forward. We grabbed the microphones, looked at the screen, and began singing. Much to my dismay, the lyrics were not in English and did not belong to an English song. As the DJ realized what was happening, I saw him approach us with a look on his face that said, "You are not a good singer. Furthermore, you do not speak Spanish." He asked me where I was from, and I said, with great pride and directly into the microphone "Los Estados Unidos". He the took the microphones away from us and walked back on to the stage.
You'd think that I would have been hurt by this. Far in the back of my head, that small man, drowned in Pisco, said something about being embarassed. He was ignored however, as I had entered what is known to some as "The Golden Zone" What it means is that I was awesome. In the words of cartoonist Brad Neely, "I was important, and funny, and helpful and seemingly rich, and I had the body of a heavy lifter." The curtain behind the stage rose and revealed a dance floor and a second bar. We burst forward and danced with an exuberance that can only be fueled by Pisco or insanity. I was dancing with everyone, sometimes two at a time. So all this was happening, and I was feeling great. Then, all of a sudden, I felt sobriety hit me in the face like a wet fish, and I knew that the night was about to turn ugly.
All of a sudden I realized how hungry I was. I tried to keep up the dancing, but I was no longer the awesome guy I had been seconds ago. I danced with a seemingly mute 30 year old woman, who would only guesture wildly at my friends for them to join us. They pulled me away from the situation like a man being pulled from a burning vehicle. I wandered about, trying to bring strong sack and overcome my hunger and fatigue, but I couldn't. We stayed there until the place closed, then we all piled back into somebody's car. We once again passed up all the McDonald's in Chile. We made it back to Jaña's house. There wasn't any way to get food from downstairs, so I ate two handfuls of Coco Puffs, drank three handfulls of tap water, and willed myself asleep. By the way, if you measure food and drink in handfulls, you're doing something wrong.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Mi Cumpleaños
We're going to take a break from the Tales of Rancagua because it's my birthday and that's damn special. Granted, in this country 18 is the legal drinking age, and the other day I was hanging out in a bar with a 16 year old and a 17 year old. It was actually more that we were existing in the same place at the same time. I didn't ask them to come hang out with me, but I digress. The point is that it's not as big of a deal here as it is in Los Estados Unidos. Anyway, for my birthday, the mess hall has sung (sang? singed?)me happy birthday twice (once in Spanish and once in English) and I keep getting handshakes, hugs, and kisses. I alos ate lunch twice and got this special meal of steak with an egg on top and french fries. It's a pretty sweet deal and tomorrow I will tell you of my adventures on Thursday night in Rancagua.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Rancagua - Part II
I was just joking about going to the gym. I actually ended up going to the Casino (Firstie Club) to grab some Italianos with my gringo buddies. Anwyway, we return to tales of Rancagua. On Monday we woke up around noon (as is our custom) and ate breakfast and lunch in rapid succession. Then, we headed out with our friend and his uncle to see the Chilean countryside. We visited and walked around some small towns, while looking at damage done by the huge earthquake that destroyed Concepcion. Some of the older buildings in Rancagua had actually been knocked down by it. We also went to the mall, which some people will not enter because they think it was built poorly. They use the long cracks that run along the ground as evidence of this. Later in the night we went to a small town built by Americans many years ago. Our friend pointed out a mural of Che Guevara painted on the side of a nearby mountain while talking about how most of the workers supported Communism.
That night we went out to the disco pretty early. I think we were there at about 7. We drank a bunch of Cristal and Fanta, which you wouldn't think go well together but they do. Then we danced, met some chicas, the chicas left, numbers were exchanged. So overall it was a pretty good time. Then we went home and had some ice cream.
We did roughly the same thing on Tuesday in that we drove around the countryside, looked at some rivers and mountains, and stopped to urinate by this path that smelled of dead and dying fish. Conveniently, after we got back in the car, it started smelling of fish also. That night, we returned to the disco. There weren't a whole lot of girls there, so we ended up leaving and going to Jaña's uncle´s house. We drank Piscola and talked about various subjects in Spanish. I did my best to understand, but a combination of fatigue, Pisco, and the fact that I don't actually speak Spanish impeded me. Around 2 in the AM, we went back to Jaña's. I presume that we ate ice cream, but I can't really remember.
Wednesday, we once again drove around and looked at churches, rivers, mountains, and people. We mostly took it easy since we had been up so late the night before. At night we just hung out watching YouTube videos. As usual, it is to be presumed that we ate ice cream and conversed with Jaña's family at length.
Sheesh, I've been trying to get caught up on my blog, but I've been hell of busy lately. Also, my birthday is tomorrow, which is pretty cool. My next post will be about the madness that ensued on Thursday. So get stoked for Rancagua - Part III.
That night we went out to the disco pretty early. I think we were there at about 7. We drank a bunch of Cristal and Fanta, which you wouldn't think go well together but they do. Then we danced, met some chicas, the chicas left, numbers were exchanged. So overall it was a pretty good time. Then we went home and had some ice cream.
We did roughly the same thing on Tuesday in that we drove around the countryside, looked at some rivers and mountains, and stopped to urinate by this path that smelled of dead and dying fish. Conveniently, after we got back in the car, it started smelling of fish also. That night, we returned to the disco. There weren't a whole lot of girls there, so we ended up leaving and going to Jaña's uncle´s house. We drank Piscola and talked about various subjects in Spanish. I did my best to understand, but a combination of fatigue, Pisco, and the fact that I don't actually speak Spanish impeded me. Around 2 in the AM, we went back to Jaña's. I presume that we ate ice cream, but I can't really remember.
Wednesday, we once again drove around and looked at churches, rivers, mountains, and people. We mostly took it easy since we had been up so late the night before. At night we just hung out watching YouTube videos. As usual, it is to be presumed that we ate ice cream and conversed with Jaña's family at length.
Sheesh, I've been trying to get caught up on my blog, but I've been hell of busy lately. Also, my birthday is tomorrow, which is pretty cool. My next post will be about the madness that ensued on Thursday. So get stoked for Rancagua - Part III.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Rancagua
Sorry for the hiatus, blogaditos. The internet has been kind of screwy around here, but now I've got both time and internet. Last Friday, started our week long Winter Break after only two weeks of classes. After much debate and indecision concerning what to do for the week, Antonio and I ended up traveling to Rancagua with a cadet named Jaña, while Jordan went to Viña del Mar with another cadet.
Friday night, we hung around Santiago and headed to a part of town called Suecia which has a lot of discos. I did a bunch of dancing, as I am prone to do sometimes and eventually we staggered back to the school to sleep. I did get a chance to use the Chilean bus system which was pretty crowded and slow. Lots of rapid acceleration and deceleration, not cool.
Saturday we woke up somewhere around 1100, which would become a recurring theme throughout the next week. We took the bus (much less crowded this time) down to the train station and then boarded a train (very crowded, kind of unsafe) down to the city of Rancagua. We were picked up at the train station by Jaña's uncle and grandfather who took us to their house where we met an assortment of other family members who also live in the house.
Honest to God, I just sat here for about 15 minutes not remembering what the heck we did that night, but I think it went more or less like this. We went to a BBQ with a bunch of dudes from the military school. We drank lots of Piscola (Pisco and Coca-cola) and Rum. There was a singer there who sang a song in Spanish that as far as I could tell was about the act of fellatio. At some point a photographer took all of our photos and somebody bought it and gave it to Antonio and I as a present. I tried my best to convince some Chilean people that George Bush did not in fact know about the September 11th attacks before they happened. Eventually we left, but not before we all raised our glasses and somebody gave this long toast. We made it back home, drank some water, and went to sleep.
The next day was Sunday, which Chileans call Fomingo because the word for boring here is 'fomen' and the word for Sunday is 'domingo'. It was a pretty boring day as Fomingos tend to be. We woke up late, Antonio stole all the hot water in all of Chile during his shower, then we ate breakfast, then about an hour later ate lunch. Apparently it's only the military academy that serves really small portions of food, because I was pretty full the entire time I was in Rancagua, or I was starving because we went to the disco before dinner and didn't get a chance to eat. Anyway, we ended up going to Jaña's uncle's house, where we ate dinner and talked about random stuff. It was Fomingo, so we just went back to the house and did YouTube for a while before going to sleep in our heated beds, which at that point we still didn't realize were heated.
I'm going to head to the gym right about now, but be prepared for Rancagua - Part II
Friday night, we hung around Santiago and headed to a part of town called Suecia which has a lot of discos. I did a bunch of dancing, as I am prone to do sometimes and eventually we staggered back to the school to sleep. I did get a chance to use the Chilean bus system which was pretty crowded and slow. Lots of rapid acceleration and deceleration, not cool.
Saturday we woke up somewhere around 1100, which would become a recurring theme throughout the next week. We took the bus (much less crowded this time) down to the train station and then boarded a train (very crowded, kind of unsafe) down to the city of Rancagua. We were picked up at the train station by Jaña's uncle and grandfather who took us to their house where we met an assortment of other family members who also live in the house.
Honest to God, I just sat here for about 15 minutes not remembering what the heck we did that night, but I think it went more or less like this. We went to a BBQ with a bunch of dudes from the military school. We drank lots of Piscola (Pisco and Coca-cola) and Rum. There was a singer there who sang a song in Spanish that as far as I could tell was about the act of fellatio. At some point a photographer took all of our photos and somebody bought it and gave it to Antonio and I as a present. I tried my best to convince some Chilean people that George Bush did not in fact know about the September 11th attacks before they happened. Eventually we left, but not before we all raised our glasses and somebody gave this long toast. We made it back home, drank some water, and went to sleep.
The next day was Sunday, which Chileans call Fomingo because the word for boring here is 'fomen' and the word for Sunday is 'domingo'. It was a pretty boring day as Fomingos tend to be. We woke up late, Antonio stole all the hot water in all of Chile during his shower, then we ate breakfast, then about an hour later ate lunch. Apparently it's only the military academy that serves really small portions of food, because I was pretty full the entire time I was in Rancagua, or I was starving because we went to the disco before dinner and didn't get a chance to eat. Anyway, we ended up going to Jaña's uncle's house, where we ate dinner and talked about random stuff. It was Fomingo, so we just went back to the house and did YouTube for a while before going to sleep in our heated beds, which at that point we still didn't realize were heated.
I'm going to head to the gym right about now, but be prepared for Rancagua - Part II
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)