Over this anxiety-ridden time, two main thoughts crossed my mind:
1. How did people do this pre-cell phones? Well, they didn't know what it would be like to have cell phones, so they didn't think about it, and everything was fine.
2. What if she's been deported?
She was not. And I only let her get settled before taking her out on the town.
After a quick stop in Plaza de Armas, we met Karen for lunch at Blue Jar, a financial district trendy contemporary foodspot. I had a baby quiche and a salad, and Kate had some quinoa-avocado-nut-healthy thing. The meal tasted like the state of California.
Next, we went underground La Moneda, the Presidential Palace, where the feared Pinera works.
While we did not likely see the president, its possible he was one of the distant men in suits behind the gated, armed-guarded entrance.
Underneath La Moneda is an expansive cultural center with some free exhibits and some paid ones. Kate and I opted for the budget travel version and stumbled upon a theater conference. After signing in for free tickets, we ended up in a lecture hall, waiting to hear a panel on Latin American film and collective memory and identity - in Spanish.
This resulted in me being slightly bored by an Argentine woman speaking at length about the structure of her three-year thesis on Bolivian theatre culture - and, Kate taking a little snooze.
We continued on to pitstop at the National Library, where there was a strange exhibit of erotic photos hung on the cracked stone walls, sun streaming in.
We then went for a hike. Kate was up for the challenge, somehow, and we climbed Cerro Santa Lucia in no time. Halfway up, we stopped for a bottle of water, and an Asian woman with a bucket hat and a map asked me for directions - in Spanish. I sort of felt native, but I more felt way totally confused. She wanted to know how to exit, but we were on a mountain, so I basically told her, "Baja" - go down. How did she get up? It's the same way down. It's really not at all complicated. Maybe she was actually asking me where the closest coffee shop was, but the only distinguishable word she said was 'donde' and kept pointing at the park entrance on the map. I hope she and her matching-bucket-hat-hubby made it.
We then went for a hike. Kate was up for the challenge, somehow, and we climbed Cerro Santa Lucia in no time. Halfway up, we stopped for a bottle of water, and an Asian woman with a bucket hat and a map asked me for directions - in Spanish. I sort of felt native, but I more felt way totally confused. She wanted to know how to exit, but we were on a mountain, so I basically told her, "Baja" - go down. How did she get up? It's the same way down. It's really not at all complicated. Maybe she was actually asking me where the closest coffee shop was, but the only distinguishable word she said was 'donde' and kept pointing at the park entrance on the map. I hope she and her matching-bucket-hat-hubby made it.
Upon returning home, Kate napped more and I schemed for our trip to Valparaiso tomorrow. Then, we got glammed up for a night on the town. For dinner, we went out downtown in Sanhattan to a delicious brick-oven pizza place that was just poppin with people (alliteration!). After such lovely family time with my favorite Chilean grandparents, Kate and I decided we would delay our night on the town, because we were too full and too exhausted.
Those 'too's are two of the best 'too's to be.
No comments:
Post a Comment