“Hedonistic Me”

I steal my title above from a song by the Born Ruffians, two words I find capture the essence of the typical dieciochera weekend in Chile. Last Thursday I headed south to Pichilemu to celebrate festivas patrias with an eclectic group of around 30 people. We spanned the western world with our diversity, claiming citizenship from such regions as Catalonia, Basque Country, Germany, Chile, the United States and Bolivia. The common language among us all was Spanish, which I think is a rare occurrence, no matter what country your in. For three nights we stayed in a row of 4 cabañas (I’m still in debate with myself as to whether that word mean ‘cabin’ or ‘cabana’ ie. my backyard is complete with a swimming pool, bbq and cabana).

Honestly, there was not much to be done in this town but kick back, eat far too many empanadas, grill much too much meat, and begin sipping on beer from the late afternoon’s dim light into the early hours of the morning. A lifetime of Just Jayne’s meticulously scheduled family vacations have trained me to be all too conscious of trips lacking structure and productivity. While my conscious was certainly aware of the shortcomings of our four-day excursion (at least in JJ’s terms), we can blame my inaction and willingness to indulge on the daunting language barrier I had to face everyday.

Each day began between noon and 2 pm, as people began to stumble out of their cabañas still in their pajamas, squinting at the blinding rays of light, which emanated from the nearly pristine coastal sky. An early riser, I got to witness the better part of this morning precession daily, noting each disheveled hair do after the other…and let me say, the do’s only got wilder the later the person woke up! The 20 minute walk into the town became an early afternoon ritual, each time making our way down to the La Casa de Las Empanadas, Pichilemu’s esteemed empanadería, boasting more than 20 different flavors, all modestly priced at 1.000 pesos, around $2.00 US.

The beach was expansive and pretty, but generally too windy to sit comfortably for a long while. Saturday, we took the 15 minute taxi ride out of Pichilemu to explore Punta de Lobos, the lookout point from which you can watch some major surfers riding California sized-waves. From the cliffs on which we stood, the ocean looked startling similar to something you’d see at home; the sizable waves crashing against jagged rocks that poked through the surface of the freezing waters. I believe all the people surfing there had permits, it looked like some serious stuff.

As I mentioned earlier, our nights began at around 6 pm with various circles of card games, guitar playing, and the enjoyment of the evening’s first beer. Little by little, the asado (bbq) would begin, and the parrilla (grill) would be loaded up with the evening’s 5 kg’s of red meat. Between bites of liberally salted steak, we would dance to music coming from a set of speakers perched on the windowsill of a cabaña. I took various opportunities when no one was looking to plug in my ipod, and moving wildly to the sounds of The Knife, Girl Talk, or Amy Winehouse, Cate and I would close our eyes and feel as if we were back at Kenyon. I love being in Chile, but being tactfully nostalgic can be just as fun…

At around one in the morning the group would make it’s way down to the town’s fonda, the typical gathering tent for festivas patrias celebrations. The roof was made of some sort vegetation, weaved together to make a sturdy and protective ceiling. Festive red, white a blue decorations hung from the leaves. There were various bars selling the typical cicha, a type of grape cider, who’s sweet, alcoholic composition gave me a headache just looking at it. The same terrible band was on stage each night, performing a combination of Chilean folkloric music y reggaeton covers. Mostly the fonda was entertaining for me to watch people dance la cueca, Chile’s national dance. Both the man and the woman hold onto scarves and dance around one another as would a rooster perusing a chicken. Pretty fun as you would imagine.

I had a rough return from the trip. I was smacked with a case of sinusitis and had a pretty miserable week as far as physical health goes. Not until my mom yelled at me via skype to get myself some antibiotics did I go to a clinic. To put it plainly, it was the sole greatest trip to a doctor I’ve ever had…I’ve never seen a process so efficient. I have lots of meds now and am on my way to a speedy recovery. I have a presentation tomorrow in my radio journalism class, so I only hope my voice comes back by the morning!

Beach Malase

Favortie Bands: Dispatch (sooo chill); Jack Johnson (he's REALLY from Hawaii AND he surfs!); Coldplay (so great in concert)

blowin' in the wind

Religious awakenings in Punta de Lobos

...other spiritual awakenings in Pichilemu!

Peeping Cora

Vista de Punta de Lobos

Cata snaggin' Ale-->me snaggin them both

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