I realized in adding Rhea that two members didn't have posting privileges, only reading privileges. Sorry about that; I am a terrible hostess! I reinvited them so they are free to click on new post and blather away like the rest of us! ;)
I also haven't updated my mileage on the map and I will be forgetting it if I don't hurry up and do that. Later... I'm off to work for now, where Iris is already hard at it, I am sure.
Thea's Fitness Journal Map
Friday, June 12, 2009
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Venting
I need to complain a bit, those not up for listening to me whine will have to skip this entry :-P
Next week I’m traveling to a mining show as a representative of not 1 but 4 companies. I have never worked with these clients before, nor have I worked much in the industry. However I have to suck it up and represent these 4 very different mining companies to at least 4 potential Chilean counterparts, per company (i.e. 16 meetings in total) in one day.
That’s not the bad part. It makes me nervous, but it is part of my job, will be a good learning experience and talking point in the future, not to mention that it will help me make contacts for the next time I have to do something like this.
Now, we would have liked to bring companies down to represent themselves, but 6 months ago when we looked for hotels there simply were none. The show is in a small town and the hotels book up about a year in advance. So the second-best-thing was that Danny and I go as their representatives (each with 4 clients). We were to leave on the first flight in the morning, work the show all day, and come back on the last flight in the evening. That kind of stuff actually appeals to me in some ways, believe it or not. You run on adrenaline all day, get an amazing amount accomplished, then get a day to relax and reap your rewards.
However Danny decided that the first flight was too early, as he would have to get out of bed by 5, and wanted to take the next one. Arnold, (the boss-man) is smart enough to check the flights before approving this, and realized that the second flight would cause us to miss half the day in the show once you factored in taxi times. So Arnold wants us to fly up the night before and stay... Remember that I told you that there were no hotels available 6 months ago? There still aren’t. Luckily our parent company has an apartment there for their workers that have to travel there often…but it’s occupied. Long story made slightly shorter: we’ll be staying in that apartment with the guy currently living there, plus Danny and I, and perhaps the other guy’s family!
Again, this is back-story, not even the reason I need to complain ;-)
ANYWAY, so here I am, nervous about the show, trying to find companies whose booths I need to visit on behalf of companies a, b, c and d, already with too little time to do it because we leave on Tuesday, when the second-in-charge calls an emergency meeting. (The office boss is in London for a few weeks, so her backup is in charge). One of the missions that Office Boss contracted comes in 2 weeks and we are apparently in danger of breaching the contract because we don’t have enough meetings. Now, before these companies signed up our office did market overviews for them and told a few of them that they had very little potential in chile. I guess they decided to come anyway though, and our office is supposed to schedule 20 meetings, over 3 days, on behalf of each company. If we get any less than 10 for any company we are in breach of contract and thus the office doesn’t get paid.
In all honesty, this happens fairly often. Office Boss has the habit of offering and guaranteeing too much and we often barely scrape out enough meetings (and they are so-so meetings, not good quality) to get by. So, as usual we all sat down and brainstormed about what other types of companies we could contact, and to see if any of us had contacts within those companies. I, of course, didn’t have any contacts. Soooo… instead of making 1 or 2 useful phone calls to established contacts, I have spent my ENTIRE day calling companies for this mission, updating information etc. I HATE COLD CALLING!
I’m not very good at it either. And you know what? That’s ok because I’m not supposed to be cold calling companies. I’m an International Market Analyst, not an administrative assistant. I already hated having to cold call the companies to make my own agenda for the show next week, now I haven’t even been able to do that because I’m cold calling for the lasñkdfjñalsfjk mission!
On the upside, I have gotten up early every day this week to study. Go me. But I have discovered the flaw in my plan: I now get up 2 hours earlier that Flaco, which means I go to bed at least a half an hour before him. Which means that by the time he gets home we get just a couple of hours to visit and take care of all the bills and other annoying stuff (like cleaning). And on most weeks at least one of us has a few after-office things to do, and the other is asleep before we get home. Since he is my only social release here, not having him to talk to in the evenings is a big drawback.
Oh, and that makes it only too easy to reason as to why I don’t need to go to the gym tonight :-P. Because it would mean: I got up at 6am this morning and left while he was still sleeping. Long day. I get home, change and go to the gym until 9:30. Once I’m done at the gym I’ll see flaco while we make dinner, eat and clean up. And then I’m going to sleep asap.
Ah well, that’s a problem to solve another day. At least I’ve studied for 4 hours this week, that’s probably equal to the entire past 4 months!
Thanks for letting me vent ;-)
*sigh
Next week I’m traveling to a mining show as a representative of not 1 but 4 companies. I have never worked with these clients before, nor have I worked much in the industry. However I have to suck it up and represent these 4 very different mining companies to at least 4 potential Chilean counterparts, per company (i.e. 16 meetings in total) in one day.
That’s not the bad part. It makes me nervous, but it is part of my job, will be a good learning experience and talking point in the future, not to mention that it will help me make contacts for the next time I have to do something like this.
Now, we would have liked to bring companies down to represent themselves, but 6 months ago when we looked for hotels there simply were none. The show is in a small town and the hotels book up about a year in advance. So the second-best-thing was that Danny and I go as their representatives (each with 4 clients). We were to leave on the first flight in the morning, work the show all day, and come back on the last flight in the evening. That kind of stuff actually appeals to me in some ways, believe it or not. You run on adrenaline all day, get an amazing amount accomplished, then get a day to relax and reap your rewards.
However Danny decided that the first flight was too early, as he would have to get out of bed by 5, and wanted to take the next one. Arnold, (the boss-man) is smart enough to check the flights before approving this, and realized that the second flight would cause us to miss half the day in the show once you factored in taxi times. So Arnold wants us to fly up the night before and stay... Remember that I told you that there were no hotels available 6 months ago? There still aren’t. Luckily our parent company has an apartment there for their workers that have to travel there often…but it’s occupied. Long story made slightly shorter: we’ll be staying in that apartment with the guy currently living there, plus Danny and I, and perhaps the other guy’s family!
Again, this is back-story, not even the reason I need to complain ;-)
ANYWAY, so here I am, nervous about the show, trying to find companies whose booths I need to visit on behalf of companies a, b, c and d, already with too little time to do it because we leave on Tuesday, when the second-in-charge calls an emergency meeting. (The office boss is in London for a few weeks, so her backup is in charge). One of the missions that Office Boss contracted comes in 2 weeks and we are apparently in danger of breaching the contract because we don’t have enough meetings. Now, before these companies signed up our office did market overviews for them and told a few of them that they had very little potential in chile. I guess they decided to come anyway though, and our office is supposed to schedule 20 meetings, over 3 days, on behalf of each company. If we get any less than 10 for any company we are in breach of contract and thus the office doesn’t get paid.
In all honesty, this happens fairly often. Office Boss has the habit of offering and guaranteeing too much and we often barely scrape out enough meetings (and they are so-so meetings, not good quality) to get by. So, as usual we all sat down and brainstormed about what other types of companies we could contact, and to see if any of us had contacts within those companies. I, of course, didn’t have any contacts. Soooo… instead of making 1 or 2 useful phone calls to established contacts, I have spent my ENTIRE day calling companies for this mission, updating information etc. I HATE COLD CALLING!
I’m not very good at it either. And you know what? That’s ok because I’m not supposed to be cold calling companies. I’m an International Market Analyst, not an administrative assistant. I already hated having to cold call the companies to make my own agenda for the show next week, now I haven’t even been able to do that because I’m cold calling for the lasñkdfjñalsfjk mission!
On the upside, I have gotten up early every day this week to study. Go me. But I have discovered the flaw in my plan: I now get up 2 hours earlier that Flaco, which means I go to bed at least a half an hour before him. Which means that by the time he gets home we get just a couple of hours to visit and take care of all the bills and other annoying stuff (like cleaning). And on most weeks at least one of us has a few after-office things to do, and the other is asleep before we get home. Since he is my only social release here, not having him to talk to in the evenings is a big drawback.
Oh, and that makes it only too easy to reason as to why I don’t need to go to the gym tonight :-P. Because it would mean: I got up at 6am this morning and left while he was still sleeping. Long day. I get home, change and go to the gym until 9:30. Once I’m done at the gym I’ll see flaco while we make dinner, eat and clean up. And then I’m going to sleep asap.
Ah well, that’s a problem to solve another day. At least I’ve studied for 4 hours this week, that’s probably equal to the entire past 4 months!
Thanks for letting me vent ;-)
*sigh
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Day Three from the Southern Hemisphere
Trip to the desert, continued...
On Day 3 we pulled out all the stops. The preparation actually started the night before when we had to trick ourselves to go to bed early. Turns out it wasn’t that difficult. The day’s activities had us hungry earlier, and the lack of electricity meant an extreme darkness set in and a calm we never hear in Santiago.
On day 3 we got up at 3am to go see the Geysers del Tatio. The tours leave this early so that you can get to the geysers just before sunrise because that’s when you see the best contrast between the steam and the freezing air outside. Literally freezing! It was -14°C (6.8°F) when we arrived! We were dressed in many layers as we walked among the steaming geysers. The first place we stopped had been left completely natural so you could walk right up to the geysers at your own risk. After about a half an hour freezing are butts off there, the guide made hard boiled eggs, coffee and hot chocolate (which I loved and am still craving!) by putting all of these things directly in the geysers. Then we drove a little further to see some more geysers. The locals had built paths and walls around these geysers and even made a large enough hot spring that we could get into.
Now, how many times in your life do you get to go swimming at 4,500 meters in a natural hot spring when it’s lower than freezing outside? You gotta do it, right? At least that’s what I told Flaco. He fell for it too! So there we are, in the freezing cold, trying to strip down as fast as possible (which is not easy because of all the layers) so we can get into what we are told is hot water…it’s not. It’s luke warm water…ah well… So how many times do you get to go swimming at 4,500 meters in a natural WARM spring when it’s below freezing outside? The really hard part of course comes when you have to get out. Somehow I was elected to get out first because I “know how to change under a towel by myself” and Flaco doesn’t. (did I mention that there are no changing rooms or privacy of any sort?)
The good thing is that after you’ve shocked your body by climbing out of the water into the below freezing air, you don’t need more than a sweatshirt and pants to keep warm. Forget the parka, gloves, scarf and other inner layers you had on before! After that we all piled on the bus to head back to San Pedro. We stopped along the way at a small village and again along the side of the road to take a picture of the view.
But our day did not end here, I assure you!
After lunch in San Pedro we got on bikes to head to the Lagunas Cejar. Yes, ladies and gentleman, bicycles. Please remember that it has been many years since I have been on one, but then again the old saying “it’s just like riding a bike” has to come from somewhere, doesn’t it?? As it would turn out, that saying does not seem to account for the butt-bicycle seat factor. Flaco and I were worried about our legs getting tired, having trouble breathing at the high altitudes, and general body exhaustion due to our largely sedentary lifestyles, but none of those things were problematic. I did feel like I was getting a leg cramp at one point, but my muscles were never tired or anything. The butt was a different story. It was a 17km trip each way (34km total or just over 21 miles).
The scenery was of course beautiful, the road was a different story. We were just riding through the desert so it was EXTREMELY bumpy (extremely in this sentence is pronounced with the same enthusiasm as my grandmother’s “ENORMOUS”) and when it wasn’t bumpy you were trying to ride through 6-12 inches of very fine sand. Now someone who is experienced (with recent experience that is) at riding a bike would spend most of the trip standing up and pedaling. I, however, did not have that option. It was difficult enough to muscle-steer the bike through the bumps and sand that I couldn’t stand up.
So I sat.
On the tiny bicycle seat.
For 17 kilometers.
Of very bumpy roads.
Actually, on the way to the lagoons it wasn’t that bad (you know, with a fresh butt and all). The lagoons are very pretty. Part of their lure is that it isn’t logical that they are there. Nobody can explain why the water came up from so deep to form them. And the water of course is very salty so even I could float! Your feet literally pop out of the water. Now I know why Grandma Sandy finds it so relaxing to float in the water!
Unfortunately there are extreme temperature differences in the water in the lagoons. Theoretically the top of the water is very cold and the bottom (where your feet float if you push them down) is hot because that’s where the hot springs are coming out. In practice however I found it to be largely variable. Your right hand may be very hot and your left, freezing. And for some reason there are currents, so the hot and cold places are constantly changing.
Our guide brought a bottle of tap water so that we could rinse the salt off our arms before we left. The problem is that when you swim in salt water, salt tends to get in places that salt should not go. And then you have to get back on a bike with a tiny bicycle seat and ride for another 17km over very bumpy roads! Ah!
Needless to say, the ride back was not pleasant. My behind was already battered from the ride in when I got on the bike to go back. Every single bump was like some sort of Chinese torture. At the beginning we could talk about unrelated things to help occupy our minds, but by mid-journey that did not help and by the end there was nothing to do. It was pitch black by the time we got into town and after turning in our bikes we went to the room.
As soon as the door shut I broke down into tears, “my poor butt!” Ufff…live and learn: getting back on the bike is easy, it’s the bumps that screw ya!
We planned to have a nice dinner at Adobe that night with a nice bottle of wine since it was our last night in San Pedro. Well, after getting up at 3am to go up to 4,500 meters then coming back down and riding 34 kilometers to the lagoons, we were a bit tired. We went to the nice restaurant, ordered the nice food and the nice wine and immediately regretted it. We both sat in relative silence as we waited for a food, both daydreaming about crawling into bed (laying on sides or stomachs of course to avoid more damage to the buttocks) and going to sleep.
But the food was good and the wine was excellent and crawling into bed was even better!
On Day 3 we pulled out all the stops. The preparation actually started the night before when we had to trick ourselves to go to bed early. Turns out it wasn’t that difficult. The day’s activities had us hungry earlier, and the lack of electricity meant an extreme darkness set in and a calm we never hear in Santiago.
On day 3 we got up at 3am to go see the Geysers del Tatio. The tours leave this early so that you can get to the geysers just before sunrise because that’s when you see the best contrast between the steam and the freezing air outside. Literally freezing! It was -14°C (6.8°F) when we arrived! We were dressed in many layers as we walked among the steaming geysers. The first place we stopped had been left completely natural so you could walk right up to the geysers at your own risk. After about a half an hour freezing are butts off there, the guide made hard boiled eggs, coffee and hot chocolate (which I loved and am still craving!) by putting all of these things directly in the geysers. Then we drove a little further to see some more geysers. The locals had built paths and walls around these geysers and even made a large enough hot spring that we could get into.
Now, how many times in your life do you get to go swimming at 4,500 meters in a natural hot spring when it’s lower than freezing outside? You gotta do it, right? At least that’s what I told Flaco. He fell for it too! So there we are, in the freezing cold, trying to strip down as fast as possible (which is not easy because of all the layers) so we can get into what we are told is hot water…it’s not. It’s luke warm water…ah well… So how many times do you get to go swimming at 4,500 meters in a natural WARM spring when it’s below freezing outside? The really hard part of course comes when you have to get out. Somehow I was elected to get out first because I “know how to change under a towel by myself” and Flaco doesn’t. (did I mention that there are no changing rooms or privacy of any sort?)
The good thing is that after you’ve shocked your body by climbing out of the water into the below freezing air, you don’t need more than a sweatshirt and pants to keep warm. Forget the parka, gloves, scarf and other inner layers you had on before! After that we all piled on the bus to head back to San Pedro. We stopped along the way at a small village and again along the side of the road to take a picture of the view.
But our day did not end here, I assure you!
After lunch in San Pedro we got on bikes to head to the Lagunas Cejar. Yes, ladies and gentleman, bicycles. Please remember that it has been many years since I have been on one, but then again the old saying “it’s just like riding a bike” has to come from somewhere, doesn’t it?? As it would turn out, that saying does not seem to account for the butt-bicycle seat factor. Flaco and I were worried about our legs getting tired, having trouble breathing at the high altitudes, and general body exhaustion due to our largely sedentary lifestyles, but none of those things were problematic. I did feel like I was getting a leg cramp at one point, but my muscles were never tired or anything. The butt was a different story. It was a 17km trip each way (34km total or just over 21 miles).
The scenery was of course beautiful, the road was a different story. We were just riding through the desert so it was EXTREMELY bumpy (extremely in this sentence is pronounced with the same enthusiasm as my grandmother’s “ENORMOUS”) and when it wasn’t bumpy you were trying to ride through 6-12 inches of very fine sand. Now someone who is experienced (with recent experience that is) at riding a bike would spend most of the trip standing up and pedaling. I, however, did not have that option. It was difficult enough to muscle-steer the bike through the bumps and sand that I couldn’t stand up.
So I sat.
On the tiny bicycle seat.
For 17 kilometers.
Of very bumpy roads.
Actually, on the way to the lagoons it wasn’t that bad (you know, with a fresh butt and all). The lagoons are very pretty. Part of their lure is that it isn’t logical that they are there. Nobody can explain why the water came up from so deep to form them. And the water of course is very salty so even I could float! Your feet literally pop out of the water. Now I know why Grandma Sandy finds it so relaxing to float in the water!
Unfortunately there are extreme temperature differences in the water in the lagoons. Theoretically the top of the water is very cold and the bottom (where your feet float if you push them down) is hot because that’s where the hot springs are coming out. In practice however I found it to be largely variable. Your right hand may be very hot and your left, freezing. And for some reason there are currents, so the hot and cold places are constantly changing.
Our guide brought a bottle of tap water so that we could rinse the salt off our arms before we left. The problem is that when you swim in salt water, salt tends to get in places that salt should not go. And then you have to get back on a bike with a tiny bicycle seat and ride for another 17km over very bumpy roads! Ah!
Needless to say, the ride back was not pleasant. My behind was already battered from the ride in when I got on the bike to go back. Every single bump was like some sort of Chinese torture. At the beginning we could talk about unrelated things to help occupy our minds, but by mid-journey that did not help and by the end there was nothing to do. It was pitch black by the time we got into town and after turning in our bikes we went to the room.
As soon as the door shut I broke down into tears, “my poor butt!” Ufff…live and learn: getting back on the bike is easy, it’s the bumps that screw ya!
We planned to have a nice dinner at Adobe that night with a nice bottle of wine since it was our last night in San Pedro. Well, after getting up at 3am to go up to 4,500 meters then coming back down and riding 34 kilometers to the lagoons, we were a bit tired. We went to the nice restaurant, ordered the nice food and the nice wine and immediately regretted it. We both sat in relative silence as we waited for a food, both daydreaming about crawling into bed (laying on sides or stomachs of course to avoid more damage to the buttocks) and going to sleep.
But the food was good and the wine was excellent and crawling into bed was even better!
Day Two from Southern Hemisphere
On Day 2 we went to the Salt flat, one of the largest in the world. A small part of it is sectioned off for us common folk (aka tourists) to enter. The entire ground you are walking on is large, I’m talking rock and boulder large and just as hard, salt crystals. It’s strange because walking along the paths feels just like walking over a recently salted, ice-covered sidewalk. If you look from further away it seems like the ground is covered in snow because of the color.
Oh, and did I mention that this is where the flamingos go in Chile? Unfortunately we were there after most of the types of flamingos had already migrated to Bolivia and Argentina, but we still got to see a few. Apparently fewer and fewer are coming back each year. Biologists aren’t sure why but think it is related to the decreased water due to global warming, which affects their mating seasons.
After chasing after the flamingos we boarded back on the van to see the Lagunas Altiplánicas, beautiful lagoons located at 4,300m of altitude (about 14,000 ft). The ride up the mountains was plenty bumpy and the obnoxious Canadian (yes, I know it seems like an oxymoron) told the driver to slow down. The lagoons were beautiful though (again, refer to pictures to understand).
At this point I started to get antsy and wanted to see just how thin the air was up there so I ran a few meters to test it. Actually I was surprised I wasn’t more out of breath than I was, I figured it was best not to push it any further though!
*Sidenote about the obnoxious Canadian. The man was around 50 and was traveling with his daughter who had just graduated college. They basically hit all of the big tourism spots in Chile on their two week trip and San Pedro was the last stop. Unfortunately neither of them spoke Spanish and our guide’s English wasn’t up to snuff according to the Canadian, so I spent a lot of time skirting so that I could take pictures instead of translate for him the whole time. And the best part was when at one point the father said how he would have to learn Spanish because they vacation in the Caribbean every year (poor baby) and his wife wanted to go to Barcelona this year...and his daughter responded, “but they speak Italian in Barcelona.” Oh, DO they now?
That’s news to me!
Anyway, after the Lagunas Altiplanicas we went stopped in a village called Toconao. The town was established because there is a tiny little stream nearby which allows an ecosystem to evolve. It’s amazing how much green can come from such a small stream in the desert. And how abruptly it ends also. Each family that lives in the village is given a small plot of land near the stream (outside of town) for their own use. Many of them farm the land, though some make more of a garden patio to enjoy. And the local kids all play in the water there. There is a typical white stone that comes from this area also, I can’t remember what it’s called. The locals are allowed to take as much stone as they need for their personal use so all of the houses are white. People who aren’t from the area though have to buy the stone and it is one of the sources of income for the town.
Oh, and did I mention that this is where the flamingos go in Chile? Unfortunately we were there after most of the types of flamingos had already migrated to Bolivia and Argentina, but we still got to see a few. Apparently fewer and fewer are coming back each year. Biologists aren’t sure why but think it is related to the decreased water due to global warming, which affects their mating seasons.
After chasing after the flamingos we boarded back on the van to see the Lagunas Altiplánicas, beautiful lagoons located at 4,300m of altitude (about 14,000 ft). The ride up the mountains was plenty bumpy and the obnoxious Canadian (yes, I know it seems like an oxymoron) told the driver to slow down. The lagoons were beautiful though (again, refer to pictures to understand).
At this point I started to get antsy and wanted to see just how thin the air was up there so I ran a few meters to test it. Actually I was surprised I wasn’t more out of breath than I was, I figured it was best not to push it any further though!
*Sidenote about the obnoxious Canadian. The man was around 50 and was traveling with his daughter who had just graduated college. They basically hit all of the big tourism spots in Chile on their two week trip and San Pedro was the last stop. Unfortunately neither of them spoke Spanish and our guide’s English wasn’t up to snuff according to the Canadian, so I spent a lot of time skirting so that I could take pictures instead of translate for him the whole time. And the best part was when at one point the father said how he would have to learn Spanish because they vacation in the Caribbean every year (poor baby) and his wife wanted to go to Barcelona this year...and his daughter responded, “but they speak Italian in Barcelona.” Oh, DO they now?
That’s news to me!
Anyway, after the Lagunas Altiplanicas we went stopped in a village called Toconao. The town was established because there is a tiny little stream nearby which allows an ecosystem to evolve. It’s amazing how much green can come from such a small stream in the desert. And how abruptly it ends also. Each family that lives in the village is given a small plot of land near the stream (outside of town) for their own use. Many of them farm the land, though some make more of a garden patio to enjoy. And the local kids all play in the water there. There is a typical white stone that comes from this area also, I can’t remember what it’s called. The locals are allowed to take as much stone as they need for their personal use so all of the houses are white. People who aren’t from the area though have to buy the stone and it is one of the sources of income for the town.
Email from the southern hemisphere - Day 1
Hello again everyone,
After a long hiatus, I am sending another update. Actually, it is more of a trip summary than an overall update. Last Thursday (May 21st) was a holiday here in Chile and that plus my Friday off meant that I had a four-day weekend! (I love having every other Friday off. It is definitely worth the longer workdays!)
Well, you all know me and therefore know that it was unlikely that I would spend that time at home. Plus, Flaco had ‘given’ me a trip to San Pedro de Atacama for Christmas and this was the first time we were able to take it. So off we went!
One of Flaco’s clients is located up north and he travels there often…and hates it! Of course he goes to Calama, not San Pedro, which is a town full of miners and nothing else. I can’t really blame him for not liking it. However, he had never made the short drive to San Pedro, which is a beautiful town and major tourist destination. It was a good trip though because it was a first for both of us. (I have never been to any sort of desert, so it was very new for me)
San Pedro is a very small town with less than 2,000 inhabitants, but it pulls in a lot of tourists because of the natural beauty around it. It also has some of the clearest skies in the world and there are many important observatories for that reason. We stayed at a hostel right on the main street of Caracoles (well, to be fair, you are never far off the main street) called Don Raúl.
We left directly from our offices on Wednesday (May 20th) and went to the airport. Once we got to San Pedro we dropped off our bags at the hotel and went to Adobe, a nice restaurant on Caracoles. The restaurant doesn’t have a roof over the main seating area which gives you a great view of the stars and they have a fire in the center to keep you warm(ish).
The air is really dry in San Pedro and you are at 2,400 meters (about 7,800 ft) above sea level so they suggest drinking plenty of water and taking ibuprophen at the first sign of a headache. Flaco, who never drinks plain water, drank probably 2 liters a day! It astounded me! I laid off the water a bit because lots of water also means a full bladder and we were never really guaranteed to have restrooms. There are also no bushes to hide behind in the middle of the friggin desert! Luckily there was only one evening, after lots of up and downs in the mountains, that I felt the beginnings of a headache, and with a couple ibuprophen it was gone. Flaco struggled to sleep because of the dry air, but neither of us got altitude sickness (thank goodness! I still remember an unpleasant afternoon at Lake Tahoe because of the altitude. I also remember a few fellow MCE+3ers who got sick when we went into the Andes).
Anyway, on Day 1 (Thursday, May 21st) our ‘trip coordinator,’ Rene, took us to the nearby Incan ruins. The natives that lived in the area, Atacameños, were first conquered by the Incas. Not long after that, the Spanish came and conquered the Incas…Karma? We saw ruins of both, but in reverse order. First we saw the Incan ruins and then we went to Pukara de Quitor, an Atacameño stronghold. The stronghold is built near the San Pedro River on the side of a steep hill, the back of which is so steep that it was impossible for their enemies to climb.
Back in San Pedro we stopped for lunch at a pizza place called Casa Piedra. They had the best pizza! Not sure what it was about it, but it was good! This is also where we figured out that almost every restaurant in San Pedro has an open roof and bonfire in the middle of the dining room (so much for being impressed with Adobe’s creativity).
In the afternoon we went to the Valle de la Muerte (Valley of Death). There are apparently many stories about how the place got its name but the two most common are:
Nothing lives there (plant, animal or fungus)
A Belgian archeologist (or geologist??) traveled there many many years ago and was the one to name the area. The twist is that he named it the Valled de Marte (the Vally of Mars) because of the red rock and the strange land formations. It is said that he had a strong French accent which is why they reporter that was with him at the time thought he said Muerte when he in fact said Marte
Then we went to Valle de la Luna (Valley of the Moon) to watch the sunset. The sun sets over the salt mountains but paints the Andes in wonderful reds, pinks, purples and blues as it goes. For those of you who look at my webshots, I apologize. I couldn’t stop myself from taking a bunch of pictures of the same thing as the colors changed!
Ok, so that’s it for Day 1.
After a long hiatus, I am sending another update. Actually, it is more of a trip summary than an overall update. Last Thursday (May 21st) was a holiday here in Chile and that plus my Friday off meant that I had a four-day weekend! (I love having every other Friday off. It is definitely worth the longer workdays!)
Well, you all know me and therefore know that it was unlikely that I would spend that time at home. Plus, Flaco had ‘given’ me a trip to San Pedro de Atacama for Christmas and this was the first time we were able to take it. So off we went!
One of Flaco’s clients is located up north and he travels there often…and hates it! Of course he goes to Calama, not San Pedro, which is a town full of miners and nothing else. I can’t really blame him for not liking it. However, he had never made the short drive to San Pedro, which is a beautiful town and major tourist destination. It was a good trip though because it was a first for both of us. (I have never been to any sort of desert, so it was very new for me)
San Pedro is a very small town with less than 2,000 inhabitants, but it pulls in a lot of tourists because of the natural beauty around it. It also has some of the clearest skies in the world and there are many important observatories for that reason. We stayed at a hostel right on the main street of Caracoles (well, to be fair, you are never far off the main street) called Don Raúl.
We left directly from our offices on Wednesday (May 20th) and went to the airport. Once we got to San Pedro we dropped off our bags at the hotel and went to Adobe, a nice restaurant on Caracoles. The restaurant doesn’t have a roof over the main seating area which gives you a great view of the stars and they have a fire in the center to keep you warm(ish).
The air is really dry in San Pedro and you are at 2,400 meters (about 7,800 ft) above sea level so they suggest drinking plenty of water and taking ibuprophen at the first sign of a headache. Flaco, who never drinks plain water, drank probably 2 liters a day! It astounded me! I laid off the water a bit because lots of water also means a full bladder and we were never really guaranteed to have restrooms. There are also no bushes to hide behind in the middle of the friggin desert! Luckily there was only one evening, after lots of up and downs in the mountains, that I felt the beginnings of a headache, and with a couple ibuprophen it was gone. Flaco struggled to sleep because of the dry air, but neither of us got altitude sickness (thank goodness! I still remember an unpleasant afternoon at Lake Tahoe because of the altitude. I also remember a few fellow MCE+3ers who got sick when we went into the Andes).
Anyway, on Day 1 (Thursday, May 21st) our ‘trip coordinator,’ Rene, took us to the nearby Incan ruins. The natives that lived in the area, Atacameños, were first conquered by the Incas. Not long after that, the Spanish came and conquered the Incas…Karma? We saw ruins of both, but in reverse order. First we saw the Incan ruins and then we went to Pukara de Quitor, an Atacameño stronghold. The stronghold is built near the San Pedro River on the side of a steep hill, the back of which is so steep that it was impossible for their enemies to climb.
Back in San Pedro we stopped for lunch at a pizza place called Casa Piedra. They had the best pizza! Not sure what it was about it, but it was good! This is also where we figured out that almost every restaurant in San Pedro has an open roof and bonfire in the middle of the dining room (so much for being impressed with Adobe’s creativity).
In the afternoon we went to the Valle de la Muerte (Valley of Death). There are apparently many stories about how the place got its name but the two most common are:
Nothing lives there (plant, animal or fungus)
A Belgian archeologist (or geologist??) traveled there many many years ago and was the one to name the area. The twist is that he named it the Valled de Marte (the Vally of Mars) because of the red rock and the strange land formations. It is said that he had a strong French accent which is why they reporter that was with him at the time thought he said Muerte when he in fact said Marte
Then we went to Valle de la Luna (Valley of the Moon) to watch the sunset. The sun sets over the salt mountains but paints the Andes in wonderful reds, pinks, purples and blues as it goes. For those of you who look at my webshots, I apologize. I couldn’t stop myself from taking a bunch of pictures of the same thing as the colors changed!
Ok, so that’s it for Day 1.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Run Crabbers Run
I just started reading RCR this weekend and he wrote about his first run in the woods today. I wonder if he'll end up finding himself in the woods more and on the roads less...like me.
Sadie is going with me so much more now. I am really not much on going by myself anymore and Sadie is only too happy to oblige. But that means I walk instead of run so it is a mixed blessing for me. Sometimes I go out and run first and then come back and get her. The problem is that there is only one way to go from here and it takes a long ways before I can choose a different path. The repeat is monotonous...especially when I am already tired!
Talking with Lydia yesterday. She is struggling with the season change this year more than usual. She has had a whole year of summer, which means not only warmth and sunshine, but more hours of both. Coming into winter, she finds herself "done" when she comes home from work in the dark. Oh how I know that feeling! But what makes it much worse for her is that everyone she talks to "back home" including several American shows and/or broadcasts are talking about spring. It was hard for us to hear about her summer, but it was only one person talking about it...for her it must seem like the whole world except for her corner has sprung!
I am supposed to be working on my internship tonight, but oops, it got dark. And I am DONE...
Sadie is going with me so much more now. I am really not much on going by myself anymore and Sadie is only too happy to oblige. But that means I walk instead of run so it is a mixed blessing for me. Sometimes I go out and run first and then come back and get her. The problem is that there is only one way to go from here and it takes a long ways before I can choose a different path. The repeat is monotonous...especially when I am already tired!
Talking with Lydia yesterday. She is struggling with the season change this year more than usual. She has had a whole year of summer, which means not only warmth and sunshine, but more hours of both. Coming into winter, she finds herself "done" when she comes home from work in the dark. Oh how I know that feeling! But what makes it much worse for her is that everyone she talks to "back home" including several American shows and/or broadcasts are talking about spring. It was hard for us to hear about her summer, but it was only one person talking about it...for her it must seem like the whole world except for her corner has sprung!
I am supposed to be working on my internship tonight, but oops, it got dark. And I am DONE...
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Way to go, Shelby!
Jann: Thea sent me a note about Shelby's prowess on the mound. Good for her! I'm always in awe of any young woman who has athletic abilities. In the first place, it wasn't admired in my day. In the second place, I was always the "Charlie Brown" who was chosen last, and then only because the teacher made them choose me!
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Pajama stories from Chile
I was afraid this would go unnoticed, so I am reposting it here. Lydia, you have privileges to post as well as comment, I think. I am still learning my way around the site...
From Lydia:
My grandmother and my mother have been writing on these boards for sometime. I’ve only recently been invited into the mix, just in time for my grandmother’s Pajama post; and what a post it was. (I read them backwards, grandma’s post before mom’s, even though they were written the other way around) It got me thinking of my own relationships. My circle of influential people has come up in several recent ruminations, as my recent move to Chile has more clearly defined the list.Back to the Pajama topic…I am lucky enough to have found my ‘Penny,’ her name is Rhea. Rhea and I were in many overlapping circles of friends for 3 years of college but never really formed a bond until senior year when we shared an apartment with 4 other girls (Oh that is full of stories, but I will save that for another day). In that house we learned to do all of the cooking and cleaning things without getting in each-others’ way, much like grandma mentioned in her post. And there were many talks with laughter and tears, a few couch-potato weekends with lots of junk food, many Grey’s Anatomy viewings and a few random dance-parties as well, all in pajamas.After college we both moved for jobs but ended up only about 1.5hrs apart. As I was in a small town with little weekend entertainment, most weekends I packed up my overnight bag and left directly from work to go spend the weekend with Rhea. No need to stress about what to bring, we’d make do with whatever I had and whatever she had. Now I have moved to Chile and it is a 10 hour flight rather than a 1.5 hour drive in order to visit…Grandma wrote in an earlier post about her personal “circle of life.” What she didn’t mention is that working with children for so long, then with their parents and now with the elderly, she has become a wonderful conversationalist, or better perhaps better put, storyteller. For me, going from child to teen to adult brought many different topics to conversation between my grandmother and I and she has never ceased to surprise me. Like so many others, I conveniently forgot that she had a life before me! I hope she continues telling me stories… And I can speak from the other side of my grandma’s comment regarding mother-daughter pajama time. I am a little older now than my mom was when she and my grandmother moved from parent/child to parent/friend/grown-woman-child, yet I have grown to treasure that same bond. When you stop to think about it, it is really the best of both worlds. I get to be a friend when I want, but still reserve the right to act completely childish when I want to, what could be better??My mom and I used to meet halfway between our respective residences on some Saturday nights. We would take a bottle of wine and spend one night talking in the hotel then head back to our homes. Again, then I moved to Chile and one day meet-ups are no longer an option…Fortunately the magic of Skype does occasionally provide some pajama-esque conversations, though they are fewer and farther between. Even more fortunately for me, both my mom and Rhea have visited me in the past few months, and for that I consider myself truly lucky. But I have to say that even the visits are not the same. Too many expectations and the addition of the SOs (my dad, my bf - Pololo - and Rhea’s bf) mean that the mix is different and conversation is not as easy. Pololo is happy to do his own thing while I talk for hours on end, but language barriers and no-bonds between him and the other SOs mean that they do not go off on their own and leave us ladies to talk until our throats go dry. Such is life, I guess. And I am happy to have these people with whom I can so easily talk for hours. No pretences or pressures, just gabbing. Now if we could only figure out a way for mom’s wish to come true everything would be perfect! We could all go about our respective lives, but regularly end up in pajamas and recliners with bottles of wine…the perfect recipe to solve all of the world’s problems.
From Lydia:
My grandmother and my mother have been writing on these boards for sometime. I’ve only recently been invited into the mix, just in time for my grandmother’s Pajama post; and what a post it was. (I read them backwards, grandma’s post before mom’s, even though they were written the other way around) It got me thinking of my own relationships. My circle of influential people has come up in several recent ruminations, as my recent move to Chile has more clearly defined the list.Back to the Pajama topic…I am lucky enough to have found my ‘Penny,’ her name is Rhea. Rhea and I were in many overlapping circles of friends for 3 years of college but never really formed a bond until senior year when we shared an apartment with 4 other girls (Oh that is full of stories, but I will save that for another day). In that house we learned to do all of the cooking and cleaning things without getting in each-others’ way, much like grandma mentioned in her post. And there were many talks with laughter and tears, a few couch-potato weekends with lots of junk food, many Grey’s Anatomy viewings and a few random dance-parties as well, all in pajamas.After college we both moved for jobs but ended up only about 1.5hrs apart. As I was in a small town with little weekend entertainment, most weekends I packed up my overnight bag and left directly from work to go spend the weekend with Rhea. No need to stress about what to bring, we’d make do with whatever I had and whatever she had. Now I have moved to Chile and it is a 10 hour flight rather than a 1.5 hour drive in order to visit…Grandma wrote in an earlier post about her personal “circle of life.” What she didn’t mention is that working with children for so long, then with their parents and now with the elderly, she has become a wonderful conversationalist, or better perhaps better put, storyteller. For me, going from child to teen to adult brought many different topics to conversation between my grandmother and I and she has never ceased to surprise me. Like so many others, I conveniently forgot that she had a life before me! I hope she continues telling me stories… And I can speak from the other side of my grandma’s comment regarding mother-daughter pajama time. I am a little older now than my mom was when she and my grandmother moved from parent/child to parent/friend/grown-woman-child, yet I have grown to treasure that same bond. When you stop to think about it, it is really the best of both worlds. I get to be a friend when I want, but still reserve the right to act completely childish when I want to, what could be better??My mom and I used to meet halfway between our respective residences on some Saturday nights. We would take a bottle of wine and spend one night talking in the hotel then head back to our homes. Again, then I moved to Chile and one day meet-ups are no longer an option…Fortunately the magic of Skype does occasionally provide some pajama-esque conversations, though they are fewer and farther between. Even more fortunately for me, both my mom and Rhea have visited me in the past few months, and for that I consider myself truly lucky. But I have to say that even the visits are not the same. Too many expectations and the addition of the SOs (my dad, my bf - Pololo - and Rhea’s bf) mean that the mix is different and conversation is not as easy. Pololo is happy to do his own thing while I talk for hours on end, but language barriers and no-bonds between him and the other SOs mean that they do not go off on their own and leave us ladies to talk until our throats go dry. Such is life, I guess. And I am happy to have these people with whom I can so easily talk for hours. No pretences or pressures, just gabbing. Now if we could only figure out a way for mom’s wish to come true everything would be perfect! We could all go about our respective lives, but regularly end up in pajamas and recliners with bottles of wine…the perfect recipe to solve all of the world’s problems.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
comments
Iris, my pajama neighbor from yesteryear tried to leave a comment and I had things a little TOO locked down for that. So hopefully this works. The settings are confusing. Basically, I opened it up to "anybody" for comments but since you pretty much have to be invited, that should mean it is "just us".
I started to "Blog" to Iris in our school mail and ended up saying I would move it over here, off the server where it is archived for a bizillion years.
I would rather archive here of my own free will!
I was saying to Iris how I ALWAYS consider her one of my "true" friends at school, whether we talk or not. It goes back to pajama days for sure and the great friendship we built but also to our journaling days when we each wrote about work and only the two of us there knew about it. It's like having a secret handshake.
I was telling some of my kids at school about Iris having a pen pal, too. (Do you still keep in touch with her, and how many years has it been now? Tell the story here, if you want to...and if you have the secret handshake to post a comment!
Here is the link to Mom's journal index, BrightEyes: http://www.angelfire.com/ny2/manatee/index.html
Monday, April 20, 2009
Pajama Distance
Okay, all right, so then...
Remember, I am really not blogging, and this site was just an experiment, actually for my mom and for J to see if they liked blogger.com for THEIR purposes...not mine. But here I am, writing an "entry". It is almost dark, but because it is spring I can hear the birds singing outside. None-the-less, here are my thoughts...
Tonight I am not feeling much like working on my paper, my internship, or my job. I am pacing around in a funk, instead.
Isn't it hard not to be in control of your own perfect world? In my perfect world, my parents, my children, and my dearest friends all live within pajama distance. You know, that distance wherein you can grab your coffee and your breakfast and are out the door in an instance to show up at THEIR door and slouch at their kitchen table. OR if it is evening, you can grab your cocktails and crackers and curl up in their recliners, but you are STILL in your pajamas.
I used to have that relationship with my neighbor before we both moved to new neighborhoods. She would sneak down to my house, or I up to hers, when no cars were going by to see the pajamas, and we would start our days around the table with coffee and/or tea, before the sun made it's way over the hill that blocked our view of the wide world. Funny, we work in the same building now, and rarely can exchange more than smile across the hours of a school-darn-day.
J and I had just one such evening pj visit recently. She brought all sorts of cocktails and came in her slippers to curl up in the recliner at my house and we solved the world's problems one glass at a time. It was grand. Not as productive and healthy as our walks/runs where we not only solve the world's problems, but dream up new ones. Anyway, it worked for me.
I wish we could do that every night, after our run. Only I would expect my daughter, my mother and my daughter-in-condo to join us. I would wait for my son to show up half way through the evening and sit cross-legged on the floor with my dog while my dad arrived with his newspaper in hand and a story or two. My husband would entertain us all with his caustic humor, warm up my bed and curl around me for the rest of the night.
That's my perfect evening.
Not that I mean to limit the lives of any of the players. Everyone should go about sailing the panama canal, climbing volcanos, receiving job offers, training for 1/2 marathons, making congressional visits, accumulating degrees, awarding new contracts, building new international relations, buying cars and houses and organic coffees.
But why can't they end up in my den, or the livingroom, or cross-legged on the kitchen floor at the end of the day...or the week...even the month???
It is spring...I should not be pouting at all.
So Sadie and I will go watch another netflix and call it a night. My dreams will have to replace the pajama chats tonight.
Did I mention it rained torrents all day?
Remember, I am really not blogging, and this site was just an experiment, actually for my mom and for J to see if they liked blogger.com for THEIR purposes...not mine. But here I am, writing an "entry". It is almost dark, but because it is spring I can hear the birds singing outside. None-the-less, here are my thoughts...
Tonight I am not feeling much like working on my paper, my internship, or my job. I am pacing around in a funk, instead.
Isn't it hard not to be in control of your own perfect world? In my perfect world, my parents, my children, and my dearest friends all live within pajama distance. You know, that distance wherein you can grab your coffee and your breakfast and are out the door in an instance to show up at THEIR door and slouch at their kitchen table. OR if it is evening, you can grab your cocktails and crackers and curl up in their recliners, but you are STILL in your pajamas.
I used to have that relationship with my neighbor before we both moved to new neighborhoods. She would sneak down to my house, or I up to hers, when no cars were going by to see the pajamas, and we would start our days around the table with coffee and/or tea, before the sun made it's way over the hill that blocked our view of the wide world. Funny, we work in the same building now, and rarely can exchange more than smile across the hours of a school-darn-day.
J and I had just one such evening pj visit recently. She brought all sorts of cocktails and came in her slippers to curl up in the recliner at my house and we solved the world's problems one glass at a time. It was grand. Not as productive and healthy as our walks/runs where we not only solve the world's problems, but dream up new ones. Anyway, it worked for me.
I wish we could do that every night, after our run. Only I would expect my daughter, my mother and my daughter-in-condo to join us. I would wait for my son to show up half way through the evening and sit cross-legged on the floor with my dog while my dad arrived with his newspaper in hand and a story or two. My husband would entertain us all with his caustic humor, warm up my bed and curl around me for the rest of the night.
That's my perfect evening.
Not that I mean to limit the lives of any of the players. Everyone should go about sailing the panama canal, climbing volcanos, receiving job offers, training for 1/2 marathons, making congressional visits, accumulating degrees, awarding new contracts, building new international relations, buying cars and houses and organic coffees.
But why can't they end up in my den, or the livingroom, or cross-legged on the kitchen floor at the end of the day...or the week...even the month???
It is spring...I should not be pouting at all.
So Sadie and I will go watch another netflix and call it a night. My dreams will have to replace the pajama chats tonight.
Did I mention it rained torrents all day?
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