Nos Vemos, Not Goodbye

The crew in the desert

 When people ask, "How was Chile?" I often stammer or simply become silent for a few seconds. They might take this to mean that I didn't have a good time or that I was too homesick, but it is really quite the opposite. When I'm asked that question, my mind is flooded with memories; friendships - those made and those solidified, conversations with my host mom, the full breadth of landscapes I walked within including desert, glacier, forest, ocean, mountain etc., and nights at the bar with friends, laughing harder than I can remember. How do I put that in a way that won't breach the rules of small talk, sound like a litany, or make it seem like I'm bragging about all the fun I had abroad? I simply say, "It was pretty amazing. I saw a lot of things and went to a lot of places while meeting some great people."

It's definitely strange being back. Obviously, the snow and sixty+ degree temperature difference play a large role in that. Having to drive twenty minutes to get somewhere also doesn't compare to walking for ten or hopping on a bus accompanied by an under-appreciated Chilean musician or two. I've also had plenty of people fail to recognize me at first glance, something that surprised me because I didn't think I changed all that much physically, their excuses being my changed complexion.

But, it was within my renewed interactions with old friends and family that I came to the realization that my semester in Chile had become a sort of time capsule. Not the Narnia sort where one side progresses while nothing has changed in the other, but rather more like two roads that diverged in a yellow wood  (couldn't resist the Robert Frost reference) only to rejoin together later on. The best comparison I can draw upon is the adventure of a few choice hobbits who returned home after an extended period of time experiencing something vastly different from the rest of their community. Although we try with photos and videos, my group's memories are truly our own. They've changed us in multiple ways, most of which we might not even be able to recognize about ourselves quite yet. But, small or large, my gut tells me those changes were for the better. The small town, running-laps-around, getting-his-head-checked-for-ticks-at-sundown kid in me feels like a rubber band that had been stretched for a semester only to be released and return longingly home to a whitewashed Hoth-like environment that would make Ned Stark from Game of Thrones cringe. But he's got his wide-eyed, do-or-die, I'd-better-try-this other side to compete with; one who feels that, after having spent a mere 4 months in another country, has just noticed a thousand windows of life swing open at once. I think I found where those two sides meet while sitting in my aisle seat on the plane away from Chile. I relished seeing family and friends, but not at the expense of leaving a country that had welcomed, adopted, and cared for me so well. I wanted to return to one home, but hated leaving another. As I sat in that plane, I felt as a part of two cultures as I ever had, a feeling I hope to feel again someday.

So, how was my semester abroad in Chile? It was pretty amazing. I saw a lot of things and went to a lot of places while meeting some great people. And I'll never, ever forget it. More importantly, as my hand hesitates over the button that finalizes this post, I sincerely hope that this isn't goodbye, but rather nos vemos.

JJ

Patagonia: My Last Chilean Adventure

Last week, our group finally went on the adventure we'd been waiting all semester for. Having purchased flights to the south of the country back at the beginning of September, we were ready to hike through Torres del Paine National Park in Patagonia, Chile. One of the most popular destinations in the world for hikers as well as outdoor and nature enthusiasts, the park offers two main trails: You can hike the "W", which is the most popular hike because it offers the majority of available scenic views in around 3-6 days, or you can follow the end of the W all the way around for a total of 7-11 days (called the Circuit, or the "O"). Though hiking the whole circuit would have been a blast, both time and money were running short and many of us had other post travel plans ahead of us. So, we decided to tackle the W.

Two possible routes. We started at the lake below the left V, up the left side, back down and to the rest of the W

Although thousands of people make this hike each year, it is by no means a walk in the park. Well, technically, that's exactly what it is (National Park and all). But, it's not easy! Roughly 80 kilometers, the terrain of the trails is never desirable whether it's extreme uphill or downhill and/or lathered in loose rocks and rubble. And when the trail does appear to be a leisurely stroll, you're hit with gale force winds racing across the plains that you have to lean into to avoid loosing your footing and landing in one of the many numerous thorn bushes that line the way. With less than six months separating my knee from a nasty scalpel or three, I knew this trek was going to be a challenge; a test on it's progress. Sounds crazy, no? (<In Tevye’s voice) But it held up better that I could have imagined, mostly thanks to the trekking poles we rented. Seriously, if you're going to hike this park or any other, use trekking poles. They are a knee/calf/quad saver.

Patagonia was incredible. I put some photos up here as well as on Facebook, but neither they nor a string of adjectives or metaphors can truly describe how amazed and awestruck I was whenever I looked up from my careful foot placement on the trail and took in just how impressive this place is.

The Torres of Torres National Park

See what I mean? Pretty early on in our journey, I simply started taking video panoramas of where I was standing since a picture (or five) couldn't do any sort of justice to landscapes so breathtaking.

Apart from the views, one of the most interesting components to hiking in a park comprised mostly of foreign visitors is the variety of people you meet. On the ferry across Lake Pehoé south of the W to Refugio Paine Grande where we began, we shared glances with the rest of our crewmates, not knowing that we would see all of their faces again and again over the next 5 days. There was the Swiss couple that offered us food when they heard us discussing our near failure in rationing towards the end of the trail, the British gentlemanly duo who travel the world together and who I got to take a picture of me in front of the Torres, a guy from Cork, Ireland (where my brother studied abroad a thousand years ago) who quit his job and has been in South America ever since, a group of Israeli students on vacation (making my half-Israeli friend, Ari, feel like Balto watching the wolves howl), other Minnesotans(!), a couple from Washington who were travelling before tackling the real world and who ran up to our bus with my alien green shoes after I had left them (on purpose) at the end of the trail, as well as friends from both our group and school and other study abroad groups from other schools.

As many differences as there are between the hikers, there is just as much variety in the climate, meaning one could start the day in a fleece, shed to a T-shirt by lunch, and be in a parka by afternoon to protect from the snow (yes it snowed). Quick changes in harsh climates meant that there’s very little wildlife in the park, leading to probably a better conservation effort but potentially lonely trails if all you see is the occasional bird. Such varying climate also gives hikers a kaleidoscope of landscapes we were on. The first day we started on a ferry across a turquoise blue lake and ended at a massive glacier (Glacier Grey). On day 2 we walked through rolling hills covered in brush, through a small forest stripped of bark and most branches by a recent fire, and ended in a valley (the middle of the W). Day three we went further up the valley into view of mountaintops and rocky outcroppings (like the view of the Torres from the back) and ended at a rocky beach similar to those found in Duluth (Los Cuernos). On the fourth day we hiked up more prairie into a huge river ravine that we followed to the camp below the Torres. Day five we beat the sunrise to the top of the Torres before ending at the end of the trail. After that we spent a sixth in nearby Puerto Natales and on the seventh day, we rested (back in Viña).

As previously stated, it’s difficult to wrestle onto a page exactly how incredible Patagonia is. It didn’t take us long to question Peter Jackson on where he filmed his trilogy as our whole trip was filled with Lord of the Rings quotes. I also felt like the age of this place was palpable. The lack of wildlife as a marker of time gave the mountains an ominous I’ve-been-here-forever-and-will-be-long-after-you-leave vibe. And the preservation of all these landscapes made me wonder if we were going to turn a corner and see the not-too-distant cousin of a dinosaur or two.

Needless to say, this hike was one of the coolest things I've experienced, and my face practically hurt each night from my eyes wanting to stay open and my mouth agape all day. It was highly indicative of how I've felt this whole semester, and a fitting end to the greatest four months of my life.

JJ