#4: January 19-25, 2024: Viña del Mar, Museo de la Memoria y los Derechos Humanos

On Friday, January 19, our program went on a weekend trip to the coast, ninety minutes west of Santiago. We started in Valparaíso with a trip to the Valparaíso Fine Arts Museum located in the Palacio Baburizza, a 20th century home-turned-gallery featuring the once-private collection of Pascual Baburizza. As enjoyable as the art inside the museum was, those in our group were particularly struck by the amount of art outside it. Indeed, Valparaíso is known as a "bohemian" city full of street art and culture. Like in Santiago, graffiti abounds. We then went to the Dunas de Concón, beautiful sand dunes overlooking the coast. There, we rented what are essentially snowboards which we covered in wax and used to sled down the dunes. It was physically demanding, and some in our group fared better than others...I myself was respectably middle-of-the-pack in terms of velocity and distance.

Later in the day, a smaller group of us (8) split off from the main pack, who were headed back to Santiago, and boarded a bus to take us from Valparaíso to Viña del Mar. This bus experience, which we endured four times over the course of the weekend, was strange to say the least. The fare was only 450$ CLP (about 50 cents) but the bus itself was packed like a can of sardines. In fact, during the ride I began to get jealous of canned sardines; at least they don't have to be conscious of their acute compression, and are free from the gut-wrenching lurches made by our bus as it careened around corners, rocketed down winding roads, and frequently slammed to halts as it arrived at its numerous stops. Just before I hurled, mercifully, we arrived.

I loved Viña del Mar because the ocean reminded me Lake Superior in Duluth, which reminded me of home. There is something about that sheet of blue, defining the endless expanse of space and erasing the distinction between water and sky, that grounds me. With this grounded feeling, I began to wade into the water. I got comfortable with the temperature and the pulsating waves--water would flow in, and with strength it would pull back--but I soon found myself with a little more than I could handle. A much bigger wave, the kind just not present on Lake Superior, came forward. Being a midwestern boy, I did not know how to react, and I did what turned out to be the wrong thing, jumping high up into the wave (rather than down through it). The wave threw me back, bobbled me around, and spit me back out onto the beach. I was able to laugh it off without getting my pride hurt too bad, but I can't help but feel that the ocean beat me that day.

Head full of sea salt, I headed with the group to our hostel and we got on with our weekend, trying local food and spending time with each other. We came back Sunday afternoon, exhausted and sandy.

The week that followed, leading up to this present moment, has been perhaps the most difficult period so far. We are in a strange space in between the initial "honeymoon phase" (as our program advisor's called it) and the rest of the semester. For me, I think I am in a unique position, where I have lived in the same city for my entire life. I don't know if I have ever been away from Iowa City for more than a couple of weeks! I am breaking new ground here, but it is difficult. Amidst my gratitude for Santiago, which is such a beautiful place, and my excitement to continue with this incredible experience, I really do miss Iowa City and the family I have there. I am taking comfort in the fact that it will be there for me in a few short months. Also, I am present in the knowledge that this program will fly by. There are 15 weeks to go and I know they will be over soon. Time works very strange.

Oh yes, the Human Rights Museum. A group of us, led by our Government and Politics professor Andres, went there yesterday, Thursday. Andres led us through the museum, reading for us and explaining various exhibits, testimonials, and historical events. Fundamentally, as Andres told us, the museum's function is to remember the horrific events of the Pinochet Dictatorship in Chile (1973-1990) through information and testimonials of its victims. The first step toward reconciliation, justice, and the maintenance of "fragile" democracy in Chile, he says, is uncovering truth. A potent form of this truth is in simply collecting and displaying basic information about the victims of dictatorship, their names, ages, and the places they were seen before being killed, tortured, or made to "disappear". It was a solemn experience, but Andres was convinced that it needn't be; it should function to remind us of this wonderful thing that we have, democracy, and what is at stake if we don't protect it. Indeed, it made me see the best in this place that I am a guest in.

#3: January 15, 2024: Gran Torre and the Metro

 Last night, my voltage converter stopped working, so today I had to go get a charger. I decided that this was a good excuse to visit Gran Torre Costanera, the tallest building in South America. It was the farthest I have been from my student housing close to metro stop La Moneda—but still only twenty minutes away on a single metro line. Truthfully, I didn’t make the most of my stop. I only went as high as the third floor, where the technology section of a Falabella caught my eye, I purchased my charger, and went home. The interesting part of the experience mostly came from the metro ride itself. Spending 11 stops on the metro where I had previously only spent two or three, it began to sink in more viscerally the incredible nature of the metro. Our program advisors had remarked on its large ridership (two million riders per day) but standing there, bodies all around, was a physical reminder of the relationship that seems to exist between people here and this transportation system. It is fast, efficient, widely used, and (from my perspective) affordable. Though it was crowded, I had a great time.  

I’ll leave it there—short post just remarking on the rad metro here! 

EDIT, January 16: Weirdly, I went back to Costanera Center today and went to the top. It was totally amazing. This place is so beautiful.

#2: Thursday, January 11, 2024

 Where to begin? 

On the evening of Monday, the 8th of January, it began to snow in Iowa City. We had only had one “real” snow prior to this, a few weeks previous, and it melted off quickly. This snow was different; it piled on, and didn’t stop. Tuesday afternoon, we needed a team of five to clear our grandparents’ driveway. Tuesday happened to be my last day to pack before leaving for Santiago. I had sublet my apartment, so was spending Tuesday at my moms. The snowstorm knocked a power line down in front of her house, so I was forced to pack without power. I finished packing and (only then) the power came back on. After a long Tuesday of saying goodbyes to friends and family, I came to rest around 11:30. At 3:45 a.m, I awoke. My mother, stepdad, and I had breakfast, said our goodbyes, and my dad picked me up at 5. By 5:45 we were at the Cedar Rapids airport. 

7:00-9:00 a.m: Flight to Minneapolis, short and frantic layover. 

9:00-1:00 p.m: Minneapolis to LAX. 

3:00 p.m-6:30 a.m: Overnight flight to Santiago. This is where I was meant to get back the rest I had missed on Tuesday night. Unfortunately, I decided instead to sit in discomfort for ten hours, watching Titanic as the night passed me by. 30 mins of sleep maximum, then coffee generously provided by LATAM Airlines. I mustered enough energy to get through customs, get my bags, and get to our group chaperone around 7:00 Thursday morning. Over the next hour, people flowed in and assembled. We took a bus to the city center, where our host university is. Orientation, meet-and-greet, brief tour, and we were off to our housing. Then, grocery shopping. And now I am here. It is 7:00 Thursday evening as I write. I have gotten five hours of sleep total in the last two nights. But, I have gotten a glimpse of the place I will be living for the next four months, and it was very exciting. 

When we rode the bus from the airport to the city, we spent a long time on a road that runs parallel to Santiago’s Mapocho river. I was fascinated by it. The water level appears low, and trash was gathered at various points on the river’s edge. But the river still flows, through a strange path; the river appears to run dry at various points, but does not end. I am struck by the question of how the river works. Looking the opposite direction from the river, I saw many mountains. And walking through the city, I saw streets that looked new, cars that drove differently, and a warmness in the air that was impossible to fathom just a couple of nights ago. I feel that I have a lot to learn about this place that I am in. 

 

#1: Monday, January 1, 2024

 I have made this blog for a few reasons:

1) To document my upcoming semester-long study abroad trip to Santiago, Chile, my last full time semester as an undergraduate student.

2) To gather my thoughts as I continue my study in environmental history.

3) To exercise my writing muscles in a variety of ways.

I am not certain what the length and regularity of these posts will be--when I get settled in Santiago (trip beginning the 10th) I will get a better idea of what is feasible/desirable to do. For now I'll just say that they would ideally be somewhat regular, perhaps once a week, and preferably at least five hundred words or so.

So, what is going on right now? Well, it is a new year. I am moving stuff out of my room, and getting close to being essentially ready to go. I am deciding which books I can bring and which I must leave at home. This is proving difficult. Beyond that, I am doing some information gathering about Santiago. I will confess that I am nervous as my Spanish has not progressed beyond my (even then limited) high school abilities. I try and remind myself of the long game here, and that it is ok to struggle to communicate as long as you are trying your best. I feel that once I secure a metro card, get to my housing, and find a grocery store, my nervousness will dissipate. 

As far as my study in history goes, I am at an interesting time. I just finished my undergraduate thesis, which was about Iowa City's 2008 flood, and about a century of events leading up and through the event--floodplain development, flood control measures, land use change...then the flood itself and responses to it, which were infrastructural, cultural, and procedural. All centered around a particular relationship between the river and the city growing around (and through) it, and how this relationship changed through one hundred years of flooding.

Having "completed" this work, I now have the opportunity to assess what I am doing more broadly, and explore further different geographical areas, time periods, methods and methodologies. A naturally following progression might suggest I begin to focus on the Midwest as an integrated region of study, or something along those lines. Maybe the history of rivers, incorporating industrialized agriculture, something about waste, or a broader history of disasters (My thesis advisor, Dr. Robert Rouphail studies tropical cyclones in his work on Mauritius. A faculty member once told me jovially that he is the university's "master of disaster".)  Or, I could study Latin American history. Or some integration of the Americas as a coherent geographical area of study? Not sure...but I have some time to figure it all out.

I also want to improve my writing in addition to these things mentioned above. I had a fairly excruciating time at many points during my thesis writing. I understand that the difficulties, mistakes, imperfections, and deep sense of self loathing seem to be a natural result of this process, but I nonetheless feel that if I improve my ability to express myself, the process may go smoother (famous last words, I know.) I might also try less academic and more, I don't know, expressive writing. We'll see how it goes.

Anyway, that's all I have for now. See you next week.