Surf's Up

When December arrived, we both finished our jobs and began the process of preparing for the big move... fitting our lives into a few suitcases again.  We only had a couple of weeks to do everything, so obviously, that included fitting in a little more travelling.

We took a short 3 hour bus trip to the sleepy beach town of Pichilemu, apparently, the Surf Capital of the world.  I can't imagine what this place looks like during January and February, but in the first week of December, it was wonderfully abandoned.  This was by far my favorite beach experience in Chile.  We also tried our hand at surfing.  Having grown up in West Texas, this is the closest I had ever been to surfing:

We walked along the beach and found a surf shop that had lessons beginning at 3pm.  We killed about an hour and returned, where we would put on our wetsuits (because the Pacific is like ice yo) and begin what ended up being a private surf lesson in Spanish.

After our instructor taught us the basic moves, he took us to the water, where he helped us catch waves.  Michael improved like a natural where I spent a lot of time falling (err flopping) into the water.  After our lesson was over (about 2 hours), they let us keep the equipment for another two hours, so we took turns trying to be all Blue Crush, and playing photographer.  We were both sore in muscles that we didn't know existed the next day, but we had a great time.

The next morning, we took the collectivo over to Punta de Lobos where many world surfing competitions are held.  Here we watched the REAL surfers scale rocks and and ride waves for extreme distances.

It was only a two day/one night trip before we returned to Santiago, but it was lovely.  I would definitely list Pichilemu as a "If you're ever in Chile" don't miss destination.

Ciao Chiquillos

When we decided that we would officially be returning the good ole US of A, I told my co-workers and kids of CPH-CJA goodbye.  My co-workers threw one despidida one week, (which was so much fun, we forgot to snap pictures) and my 6th graders pulled out another surprise despidida on my last day.  They brought food and gave me a signed Chile-flag with grammatically perfect English sentences one it. (Read:  Please return to Chile soon)  So cute it almost made me forget that they were little turds.... like most 6th graders all over the world are.  

That night, I had one more despididal dinner with a few of my coworkers.  Admittedly, the people I worked with at this job were just wonderful.  Having never really worked with a large group of women, I was a little taken aback at first, but it was impressive the lack of cattiness in a department of 19 women.  Next year there is going to be one guy.... Bless his little heart.  

Holidaze

One of the strangest parts about living in another country is the part where your forget that the random Thursday in November that seems like any other late spring day is actually Thanksgiving.  All of your friends and family back home are stuffing themselves with Turkey and preparing to fight the crowds of Black Friday while you just get up, go to work, and... yeah.

Sarah (the other gringa at my school that arrived in August) and I had a mini-party when the cafeteria happened to be serving turkey and mashed potatoes that day for lunch.  We also had our coworkers tell us what they were thankful for... coincidentally teaching some of them the word thankful.

That evening, rather than try to create a sub par traditional Thanksgiving dinner in our shoebox of a kitchen, we decided to create our own tradition by heading out for a terrifically Chilean Thanksgiving dinner complete with Chacarero (green beans abounding), papas fritas (potatoes.. duh) and beer.... that is just a given.  Our "Gracias-giving" was a great and pleasant success.  

We finished the night with some Bravissimo cheesecake and our fancy-ish bottle of wine from Argentina, officially making it a very multi-cultural  evening.  

For Jacqui's last weekend in Chile, we took her to the artisan town of Pomaire about an hour outside of Santiago.  Michael and I had been a few times before to walk the streets of artisan shops full of clay made pots, and pigs.  (The "chanchitos" only have 3 legs.. this is good luck... I don't know).  Pomaire is such a great little piece of Chilean charm.  We souvenir-shopped, empanada-ate and posed with the world's largest clay pig.  Yes that is a thing... and yes it is as awesome as it sounds.

The 90 degree weather didn't deter the placement of ginormous Christmas trees throughout town.  Honestly, without Thanksgiving to get in the way, the Christmas decorations began popping up around November 1st. Indoor trees like this guy looked happy:

 While this guy looked like he was sweating and hating his life: (we feel you bro... seriously)

We rounded out November, sweaty and thankful.

Mendoza, Argentina (Jac Attack Part Two)

The second weekend that Jacqui was in town, we hopped over the Andes to the city of Mendoza, Argentina.  By hopped over, I mean we took the overnight bus through the winding switchbacks.  The ride was about 6 hours including a stop at the border.  We arrived to our hostel at the not-so-bustling hour of 5 am, and slept on the couches in the common room for a few more hours.

Mendoza is known for its wines and various bodegas, so we obviously wanted to get in on that action. Rather than take a traditional group tour, we took a city bus out to the vineyard area of Maipu and rented bikes from Mr. Hugo's Bikes.  Mr.  Hugo himself was there to give us a very warm welcome and soon we were on our way, map in hand.  Side note:  renting things in South America is such a different experience.  No ID, no names, no collateral... In fact, on the notepad keeping track of the number of bikes... It said "3 chicos".  

Anyway, we rode around visiting a couple vineyards along with an olive oil factory and a beer garden.  The weather was fabulous and the scenery was equally as awesome.  We drank and biked, ad nauseam until 6ish hours had somehow passed.  We finished our day with Argentina's other claim to fame... A big hunk of bife de chorizo and... More wine.

On day two, we geared up for a hike up Cerro Gloria, which according to the online guidebooks, would offer splendid views of the city AND take about 3.5 hours.  Exactly .5 of that was true.  Going up the hill took exactly 20 minutes and the views were good, but not a superlative form of good.  The statue depicting border battles and such, was however, quite rad.

We spent the rest of the day just walking through the park and city.  Being Sunday, it was super pleasant to do just that, without having to constantly mentally curse at youths.  We stopped for another steak--- this time it was literally the size of a puppy, and then walked some more.

The entire time that we were in Mendoza, I felt like I had been transported back in time.  The city was full of older cars and one-stop mom and pop shops to buy washing machines like from That Thing You Do.  All of that was charming minus the emissions of these bad boys... 

I saw this on a wall and loved the quote which says:  "Education doesn't change the world, it changes the people who are going to change the world.". Right!?!  So true. Points for inspiration on your street art Mendoza.

That night we just chilled at the hostel, played some cars, and drank one of our bottles of wine we had acquired from the day before.  The next morning we set off on our 6 hour bus ride, during the day this time, to get the sweet views of the cordillera that were rumored to be spectacular.

The bus ride this time ended up including a 3.5 hour stop at the border while we waited on the two people working customs to search every car and every bus that went by.  There was some pretty excellent scenery, and they say every picture is worth 1000 words, but is every picture worth hours stuck on a bus?  The jury is still out.  Although, the jury is not out on the fact that the next trip to Mendoza via Santiago (whenever that is) will definitely include a 45 minute plane ride.

But, alas, for your enjoyment, may I present the Andes: